#anyways this is your reminder that its never too late to start masking again <3 its one of the most punk things u can do!!!

[hairscare]

not too fond of being immunocompromised

[imjusttpeachy]

the early bird gets the panini (c.h.)

well this is quite the change of pace isn’t it. lmao i figured u guys needed a break from the crying so here’s... whatever this is

thank u all new followers!! u jus made a big mistake💞🦋

u guys should search up “my very real collab with 50 cent” by corpse if you haven’t heard it yet, i ascended the first time i listened lmaoooo

playlist

the wombats - greek tragedy

aminé - heebiejeebies

free nationals - beauty and essex

the marías- let my baby stay

summary: Corpse interrupts the reader’s morning livestream after she left him alone in bed that morning. Fluff and fuckery ensues.

word count: 2, 326

WARNINGS: she/her pronouns, coarse language

>>>

“Okay, Tom Nook is the most bitch-ass motherfucker I’ve ever met. I could fold him like a panini with a slap I swear to god.”

Mornings were definitely one of your favourite times to stream. Of course, you loved staying up into the early hours of the morning only kept awake by the energy drinks running through your veins and the screaming of your friends over your headset, but nothing could beat the sweet simplicity of waking up with your watchers. It was always so calm, your anxiety levels at a low with the small audience building up slowly as more of them woke up. Reading those good morning messages saying that you helped to start their day off on a good foot— nothing would beat that.

The only downside to these scheduled morning streams was having to tear yourself away from the cozy warmth of your bed, especially if there was a certain someone blanketed over you silently persuading you to stay there forever. It was always a rare sight, bruised eyes sealed shut, long eyelashes kissing pale cheeks as small snores escaped from slightly parted lips. Glancing down at the messy black mop that rested on top of your chest, you sighed softly. You knew he’d only been asleep for a few hours, if that, thinking back to the night before where you crawled into bed alone after kissing him goodnight before leaving him to finish editing for his latest video. He worked too hard, but despite you reminding him this every single time he stayed up into the dark hours of the night to finish his work, he always never seemed to be satisfied. Most of the time you were able to coax him from the stuffy confines of his gaming office, bribing him with sweet kisses and promises of cuddles; when he was in the zone, though, nothing could steer his sore eyes away from the monitor. So with a sweet kiss goodnight, you’d make your way to the bedroom, falling asleep to the faint click-clacks of his keyboard.

It was funny how different you were in that aspect. You always loved mornings, the sun shining through the blinds always brought a smile to your face holding the promise of a bright day ahead. It felt good to never be in a rush, to enjoy the still air, and watch the world around you wake up as people settled into their daily routines. The day’s chaos always seemed to leak through into the dark of the night, but in the morning everything felt new and refreshed; the perfect new beginning to another chapter in the story of your life. Though, allowing yourself the guilty pleasure of staying in bed tangled together with your favourite person every so often wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Okay, maybe it was almost every day.

But who could say no when those strong arms encased you so perfectly, holding you so close you couldn’t figure out where you ended and where he started? Who could say no to his warm skin pressed against your own, the weight of his body grounding you as you pulled yourself from the darkness of sleep? Who could say no to being able to study his face up close, running your fingertip ever so lightly along the curve of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, the apples of his cheekbones, watching his eyelids flutter as he stirred softly in his sleep? Who could say no to the pillow talk you shared once those pretty eyes opened, the deep grumble of his morning voice that prickled goosebumps over your skin as he muttered those 3 sweet little words?

Definitely not you.

Well, not often anyway.

Reluctantly pulling your gaze away from the sweet face resting on your chest, you glanced over to the alarm clock on the nightstand. Red numbers reading 9:37 AM that seemed to be glaring back at you pushed any thought of indulging in your morning pleasures straight from your mind. You’d need to be live in 20 minutes. Puffing another sigh from your lips you slowly worked your way out from underneath your personal weighted blanket, trying your best to maneuver him softly onto the pillows to not wake him. Of course, you’d never be that lucky. Hissing through your teeth as your feet hit the icy top of the hardwood floor, you whipped your head around as a warm hand encased your wrist in a loose grip. Beneath messy bed head that could barely be seen from underneath the comforter that you had pulled back on top of him, you see the glimpse of tired eyes clouded with confusion peering out from underneath.

“Angel?” The deep grumble muttered underneath his breath almost made you throw all your plans to the wind and crawl right back into the fluffy clouds you longed to once again get lost in. Huffing out a sigh you slowly turned around, pulling your hand from his grasp only to bury it in the dark locks buried among the pillows. You leaned down softly, pushing your hands through his hair to reveal soft pleading eyes staring back at you, doing nothing but making your heart ache for having to leave so soon. Trancing your thumb along his eyebrow to try and smooth the small furrow that had made its home between them, you sighed softly.

“It’s Thursday, gotta stream puppy.” You watched as a small flash of recognition passed across his bleary eyes, a puff escaping his lips from under the comforter as you watched his chest fall slightly. Pulling his head up from the comforter, you smiled as you felt chapped lips press a small kiss to the inside of your wrist in understanding. Allowing yourself a bit of fun you leaned down pressing your lips to his briefly, giggling softly as a whine escaped his mouth as you pulled away. “Promise I won’t be long, I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me.”

“Too late for that.”

>>>

Smiling as you glanced up at your monitor that held your live chat, you watched as your viewers lost it with your threat to an animated shopkeeper. Times like this are what remind you of how grateful you are to your subscribers, they were practically family at this point and you felt you couldn’t be luckier to have such genuine, warm-hearted people that wanted to watch; even when you were cussing out characters that did nothing to you. You were laughing as you read some of the chat replies out loud when you saw your phone light up with a text from where it was sitting on your desk. Excusing yourself for a moment from the stream you grabbed your phone seeing a message from Corpse. 

Corpsie💞💞: did you order coffee? someone knocked on the door and there’s a paper bag on the step

Cursing to yourself quietly for forgetting, you answered him quickly saying that you just needed to cut to a break on stream and you’d be out in a minute to grab it. He was wary of even opening the front door these days, and honestly, you couldn’t blame him. The last time you had driven out to pick up whatever was sent into his P.O. Box, there were people waiting outside the building. When you went inside to grab everything, you asked the teller what exactly they were waiting for, to which he told you that they were hoping to catch a glimpse of this faceless internet star as this is where he’d go to get his mail. You don’t think you’ve ever walked faster to your car— trying your best to not grab their attention though your body was shaking with adrenaline, knowing they might’ve seen him while he was waiting there for you. Practically throwing open the driver's door, you tossed everything haphazardly into the back seat, telling Corpse to pull up his hood and mask as you started the car and peeled out of there. That was the last time he left the house.

You sighed, dropping your phone back on your desk as well as the switch that had been sitting in your lap, beginning to explain that you needed a quick break to get your coffee and starting to click through the settings to set up your break screen when you saw your phone light up again.

Corpsie💞💞: nah don’t worry i got it

You barely had time to sit back in your chair as you stared at your phone in disbelief before there was a soft knocking on your office door. 

“Just kidding guys, apparently we have a kind guest who’s bringing it to me instead.”

Corpse hearing your voice from behind the door, it swung open to reveal your mop-headed lover sporting his cute plaid pyjama pants and yesterday’s hoodie as he held your coffees and bag in his hand. You grinned to yourself, moving out of the frame of the webcam as you reached out to grab everything, placing it on your desk before turning back to him with a wide smile. Reaching back for his hand, you pulled it down toward you, his body following as your other hand reached up to bury itself in his bedhead. You leaned forward and pressed a small peck onto his lips, mumbling a soft thank you against them as you kissed him once more. While this may have looked like the most simple gesture you knew how difficult it must have been for him, almost wanting to cry at how sweet he was to go to those lengths to do something a little special for you. As you pulled away, you smiled as his face mirrored yours, those soft rosy lips pulled into the sweetest grin you’d ever seen. Resting his forehead against yours, he mumbled back a small “anything for you princess,” the deep rumble of his morning voice sending a chill up your spine as you leaned forward again to steal another sweet kiss. Finally pulling away from you he stood up to his full height, a yawn escaping his mouth; though as he looked back toward the door you could sense his hesitation and grinned widely up at him.

“Do you wanna sit with me for a bit? I can just turn off the camera.” Giggling softly, you watched his head practically whip back toward you nodding a yes as he squeezed your hand, still intertwined with his. Reluctantly pulling it from his grasp, you pulled yourself back toward your monitors as you began to click through your stream settings. 

“Well, your favourite guest has decided to grace us with his presence for a little so I’m gonna have to turn off face-cam, but I don’t think you guys will have a problem with that.” You laughed out, watching as your chat began to surge with messages about him. Making sure there was no way you could accidentally turn on the webcam again, you gestured him over to you starting to stand from your chair to grab the other one sitting in the corner of the office when a hand grasped yours, a strong tug pulling you completely off it with; a small yelp escaped your lips as you fell clumsily into your boyfriend's chest. You could hear his laugh from above you as he maneuvered you around in his arms before falling back onto your chair and pulling you into his lap, his face burying itself into the crook of your neck where you could feel that smug grin that was surely painted on his face. With his arms wrapped around you completely, holding you securely to his chest you knew you weren’t going anywhere. Looking up at the chat a laugh was pulled from your lips as your watchers conspired against you, message after message accusing you of doing something unspeakable behind the camera as being the reason you turned it off.

“Guys, literally nothing is happening.” You laughed out, watching as the chat passed so fast you couldn’t even read a full sentence. “Corpse just decided he wanted to share a chair instead of getting his own.”

“Yeah, my bad.” With no trace of any remorse in his monotone answer, another laugh escaped from your lips. Leaning forward to grab your switch and actually start playing again, you settled back into Corpse’s lap knowing this is exactly where you wanted to be. You were only a few minutes back into the game, Corpse and you occasionally reading out some live chat comments excited about his surprise appearance as viewers slowly climbed— his own watchers joining to watch the stream, when he inevitably started to fuck with you. A chill snaked up your spine as you began to feel small kisses trailing up your neck, you should’ve known this was one of the reasons he wanted to have you in his lap— it was easier to get your attention this way. You could feel that smug little smile drift back onto his face as he heard your voice start to shake slightly; at those moments he’d pull away and start replying to messages before turning back and starting all over again. It was the fourth time he began to press those soft lips to the base of your throat when you shrugged him off and shoved the breakfast sandwich you were snacking on into his face.

“Okay, if you want to share a chair you’re gonna have to behave.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry baby, sorry.” Corpse laughed out, voice muffled from behind the sandwich; taking a bite of it and placing it back in front of you, his chest still shaking with laughter. Deciding to hook his chin over your shoulder instead, he went back to watching the live chat, chatting and answering questions— that is before he came across a certain comment that had him furrowing his brows in confusion.

“What’s this about you folding Tom Nook like a panini?”

>>>

[dancingamongstdust]

Creepypasta Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 3)

I’ve opened requests now, if anybody is interested. Here’s the post:

Requests

Lost Silver

As stupid as it sounds, the game didn’t scare you.

It had started as a joke, something passed around your friend group after it had been discovered. The cartridge was just a janky version of a Pokémon game that was apparently spooky and so, everybody had taken turns messing around with it. They all said creepy things started happening but nothing too bad.

When it was your turn, you had been fully expecting something out of a horror movie. Instead, you had gotten a game that just had audio cut offs and weird notes warning you to stay out. It wasn’t all together scary.

You mentioned this to the next person you gave the game to in your friend group and they had laughed, saying it would probably ring true for them also.

But for some reason, your ally didn’t manifest.

Less than two days later, they practically threw the game at the rest of you and ran away sprouting things about curses. After that, the appeal of playing it kind of went away.

Nobody wanted to buy it and apparently throwing it out wasn’t a suggestion. So you ended up getting it.

Curiosity soon got the better of you and you booted up the game again, really sure that it would do something absolutely crazy but it never did. It ran like it always had with only that one file being completed.

So you deleted the file.

And nothing happened.

The next day, when you booted up the game, the file had simply returned as though you hadn’t deleted it in the first place. A similar thing occurred the next time. And the next.

Eventually you gave up and just started your own game. There, everything ran like it was meant to and you were beginning to think that your friends had all been imagining stuff. Maybe their paranoid got to them or something like that?

But eventually, the nightmares started. And they were bad.

You couldn’t remember exactly what happened during them. They were a swirling mess of games and glitches, horrible things spelled out in letters and blood covering everything. You would always wake up right when they seemed to be coming to a pivotal point. You’d find yourself dragged into a graveyard and then you’d wake up screaming

It was awful. You hardly got any sleep during them and they seemed to haunt you every night, keeping you up until the early hours of the morning.

But the worst only came when you didn’t wake up.

When you were dragged to the grave and looked down to see the ellipsis where the name should be. A punch to the gut that reminded you of what the game file was called. A confirmation of what was causing this dream.

You stared at it for ages before your eyes drifted up and you met his gaze. He was covered in blood, it leaked from every orifice and limb. It stained his dirty clothing even worse.

While you were staring, the world seemed to distort even though he didn’t. The game world melted away and your bedroom slowly reappeared.

It wasn’t until you saw car headlights move past your window – casting awful shadows across the room – that you realised you were no longer dreaming. He wasn’t a figment of your imagination.

The temperature in the room plummeted and you began to slowly reach for a weapon of some kind. He turned to look at what you were watching. His head tilted to the side and a glitch raced across his body before he vanished into thin air. Flicking on the lights didn’t show him hiding or cowering.

Perhaps your friends weren’t crazy after all.

Masky

“You know, if we had been a little more patient, none of this would have happened,” your sibling lectured. “We could be relaxing inside the car without having to worry about a bloody flash flood coming down from the sky.”

You shoved their back, forcing them to stumble a little as they went through the door. “Chances are the river’s going to burst its banks anyway. We would have been stuck in traffic for hours because the bridge is blocked off.”

“At least we would have been dry,” they muttered, running their fingers through their hair. “And not trapped inside an abandoned building.”

You rolled your eyes and made your way over the rubble to settle down on a camping chair. “Don’t even start. This place has been a hangout for my friends and I for ages. There’s never been a single problem bigger than a few spiders.”

“Till a landlord shows up,” they scoffed.

“Then we’ll move to the forest,” you joked. “I’m sure there’s a good bear cave we can use.”

“I’m going to be an only child,” they said, rolling their eyes. Still, they made their way over and sat. “How long do you think we have until the storm dies down?”

You relaxed back into the chair and smiled up at the asbestos-filled ceiling. “From the sound of it, a while.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time you had taken a nap in the building. You were scared of giant cockroaches coming to eat you once. You had gotten used to it since then but this time when you woke up, you were uneasy.

Glancing around, nothing was out of the ordinary. Your sibling was snoring in the chair next to you and outside the rain was pounding the roof.

You sat upright. Sometimes was definitely wrong.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you got up from the chair and began walking as quietly as you could through the house. It had always been tiny and practically void of furniture, but the few rooms provided ample hiding spots.

Nothing but rubble was in most of the rooms but, in what you presumed had once been a bathroom, you found a person.

He had his back to you but when you pushed the door open to peer in, he spun around, his hand flying to his side. He was wearing a white mask, dark features etched onto it, and an orange jacket. A dark stain ran up the right side of it, emanating from under his hand. The oddness of his clothing made you immediately back away from the door, finger twitching on your cell phone in case you needed to call for help.

The two of you stared at each other in silence.

You were lost about what to say or do. The stain on his jacket was spreading and the more you stared at it, the more you became convinced it was blood. “Are you okay?” you finally managed to ask.

It took him a while to respond but then he nodded. The mask was unnerving you. You didn’t like not being able to see a person’s facial expressions.

“I don’t mean to pry or anything, but it really looks like you’re bleeding,” you said. “And quite badly. I can call for an ambulance or something although…” you turned your attention to the window behind his head. “I’m not sure they’ll be able to get anywhere with this weather.”

He stepped backward. “I’m fine,” he said, so soft you barely caught it. “I thought this place was abandoned.”

“It normally is,” you answered. “But we had to avoid the storm. I’m guessing that’s why you’re here also?”

“Yes,” he responded.

You waited or him to say something more, but all you got was silence. He had moved further away and now he had his back against the window. Part of you wanted to turn around and go back to your sibling but you were unsure about turning your back on the strange man.

The mask made you scared he could stab you or something.

Somebody calling your name made you turn your head on instinct. Your sibling must have woken up and realised you were missing.

Quickly, you turned back to the man, but he had disappeared. Rain spat through the now open window.

Nurse Ann

Everybody always warned you about exploring old buildings. They would yell about how many things could injure or kill you. Stray animals, drug addicts, old equipment, and all that. You had heard just about every warning imaginable. Ghosts were pretty commonly mentioned also.

But killer nurse was a new one.

“Come on, just give me a little more information,” you nagged. “I’m going there whether you’re with me or not so you may as well just tell me what you’ve heard.”

Your friend (and partner in crime for most ventures) groaned. “It’s not much. They just say that she guards the place and if you get too close, she’ll run you off with a chainsaw. Some people have died from injuries they got while there. Let’s just give this one a miss, alright?”

But you were not in agreement at all.

“Maybe she’s cute though,” you teased.

They didn’t find that funny and you didn’t push them to come with you. So later that evening, you snuck in by yourself.

The hospital was old with crumbling walls and smashed windows. It was hidden from the public by means of a tall barbed-wire fence and a substantial distance of open garden. Nothing too extreme for you and definitely worth the potential items you’d find inside. When hospitals went under, they often left tons of awesome stuff just scattered around.

You’d never sold anything you found in your abandoned building dives. They were more collectables than anything else but they meant quite a bit to you.

There weren’t any signs of crazy nurses as you approached the place. Nobody came running at you with a chainsaw at least. You didn’t even find evidence of squatters who could sometimes pose some danger.

After deciding it was safe enough, you lifted yourself through one of the windows and began to explore.

Honestly, it was creepy. Everything was way too old to be worth collecting and there were too many unidentifiable stains for your liking. The water damage was bad. It looked like the ceiling was there for aesthetics only and several rooms creaked too much for you to comfortably cross them.

And that was even without the awkward feeling of being watched.

You told yourself that it was just superstition but you couldn’t shake it. Every few seconds saw you looking over your shoulder in anticipation. It distracted you from keeping your eye on the path in front of you and the loud crack reached your ears too late.

The floor gave out and you fell through. Your shoulder hit some kind of metal object as you landed in the room below. Painful shocks ripped through your body and your head knocked against the floor with a heavy thud.

Stars danced in front of your vision and you raised your hand to the top of your head. Blood coated your hand when you lowered it to look.

Shit.

Shakily, you tried to pull yourself up but quickly found that your arm was too sore. Instead, you pulled your phone from your pocket and sent off the emergency text to your friend.

The world faded to black not long after that.

When you woke up next, you were in your room with a bandage wrapped around your head. You had felt like absolute crap but still gotten up to thank them for the save. They had nodded and warned you to be more careful, happy that you had been outside the hospital so they didn’t have to look for too long.

Before you could even think about how you had crawled there, they asked how you had managed to do your own stitches so nicely.

Puppeteer

Your camera was on 10% battery.

Grumbling, you shoved it into your bag and cursed your past self for forgetting to put it on charge. In order to get the best sunrise photos, you had found yourself waking up earlier and earlier. It was tiring but it was worth it… most of the time.

You just hoped that at least one of your pictures was usable but you could only check on them once you got home.

The streetlight above your head flickered as you walked past. It wasn’t unusual but when you were the only person awake for miles around, it was awfully creepy.

Putting your hands into your jacket pockets, you continued strolling back home. The neighborhood had never been dangerous and despite living in the area for your entire life, no incidents made you want to stop walking around at night.

Deciding that you wanted to take a precautionary shot, you headed for your neighbour’s house first. They had an arch covered in jasmine flowers that made for some perfectly safe photos and they never minded your presence.

After making your way there and getting a few photos, you were treated to the fright of your life when their began howling and barking. It wasn’t aimed at you but you didn’t like the noise regardless.

As you rounded the corner of the house, planning on racing back to your own home, you encountered the dog’s target.

A man – cloaked in the darkness and barely illuminated by the streetlight – opening one of the windows with ease. Irritated by the dog, he didn’t notice you until your finger twitched around the shutter of your camera. There was a flash.

His head snapped up and you screamed.

The man’s complexation was literally grey. He wasn’t just ill, he was the colour of storm clouds. Golden eyes with no pupils glared at you and froze you in place. Whatever he was, this man was the furthest thing from human.

Your scream woke your neighbors. The sound of movement began coming from inside the house.

He abandoned the window, stalking towards you. The air tingled like it was expecting a lightning storm. Golden tendrils grew from his fingertips and shot towards you. They had you pinned in an instant.

You struggled against them and opened your mouth to scream again but they wrapped around your head, forcing your jaw shut.

This was how you died… tears spilled down your cheeks at the realization. You were going to be an unsolved murder. All you hoped was you got a good picture of him.

Your neighbor’s front door opened and great dane let out an ear-splitting bark as he raced toward you.

The man, or creature, or monster, or whatever he was, released you to face the dog. He let it approach before vanishing into a cloud of smoke as its jaws reached him.

“What was that?” the timid voice brought you back into reality.

“It was trying to get into your house,” you said. “I screamed when I saw it and then it grabbed me.” Your voice changed to a whimper as reality hit you. You nearly died.

The small child of the house came over to hug your leg. “I’m sure Puppet didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. “He always comes to visit but he doesn’t like it when people make noise. You shouldn’t scream when you see him again.”

You made eye-contact with the parents and they wore expressions of horror at their daughter’s words.

“Puppet?” you asked in a small voice.

She nodded rapidly. “He says he stops by because he likes watching people. I think that he’s watching us all right now! But he can hide in the shadows too well.”

“I’m going to go and call the police,” somebody said.

You weren’t all too focused. The feeling of being watched grew heavier and you clutched tightly at the camera in your hands.

Slenderman

You couldn’t tell if they were being serious. You hoped that they were joking. They weren’t genuinely going to…

“No,” you stated.

The two younger children both turned to look at you simultaneously. Guilt flashed across their faces as though they weren’t aware you were listening. It was as though you were asked to babysit them because you didn’t pay attention. These two should have realised that by now.

“Do you think all the stories are true?” the boy asked. “I think that they are. One of my friends said she saw a huge dog in the forest and then it ran away after eating a whole cow!”

“No way!” his twin sister shouted. “Dogs don’t eat cows, so it can’t be true!”

You put on your best intimidating expression and crossed your arms. “I don’t care if they’re true or not. There is absolutely no chance that either of you are going to go running off into the woods with bears, wolves and all kinds of other creatures.”

The two children glanced at each other and bolted for the tree line before you could grab their shirts.

Thankfully your legs were longer even if they had a head start and you managed to catch up pretty quickly. Once you caught the boy and picked him up with ease, the girl dashed behind a tree.

“Can we please just leave?” you asked nicely. “If we forget about the forest adventure thing, I promise I won’t tell your parents and I’ll get you ice cream.”

The boy was trying his hardest to get out of your hold. You were starting to think babysitting didn’t pay enough.

“I don’t want ice cream,” the girl said. “I want to go and find a unicorn.”

She darted off into the forest and you let out a deep groan. Shifting the boy’s weight over your one hip, you started walking after her. If you wanted to give chase via running, you would have to put the kid down and trust him to follow or stay.

It was obvious that wasn’t happening.

It didn’t take you too long to find the girl. Mostly because she had stopped in the middle of a weird grove in the trees. She was just staring off into the dark shadows beyond it.

As you approached her, static popped in your ears. You shook your head in an effort to displace it but the closer you got, the louder it became.

The child in your arms whimpered, clutching his head.

You softly called her name and then it appeared. It was a man-like monster, standing just in the shadows of the trees. Easily over 7ft tall and insanely thin with no facial features. Your heart jumped into your throat and your stomach tied itself into a knot.

Without taking your eyes off it, you reached out a hand and fumbled around until you grabbed the girl’s shirt.

The static was getting louder and louder. You tried to shut it out as you started moving backwards, tugging the child along after you. She wasn’t willing to move her legs. She was entranced but whether by fear or magic, you couldn’t tell.

And then it was much closer.

You stumbled in fright, letting go of the girl’s shirt and landing on your ass. The boy fell on top of you but scrambled away and hide in the bushes within the blink of an eye. You sent a silent prayer to him to run back home to the other adults.

Once again, the creature was stationary but now the static was growing to such a volume that you could imagine your ears were starting to bleed.

You reached out for the girl again slowly, but something wrapped around your leg and yanked you into the air.

It took almost a full second for you to realise that the screaming ringing in your ears was you. Whatever was holding you tightened and whipped your body through the air. It was like your leg was being ripped away.

Then you were falling.

It was some feat of luck that you managed to twist your body, so you didn’t land on your head. You lay there for a while before something poking your back made you unbury your face.

The twins were staring at you with wide eyes and the monster was nowhere in sight.

“What was –“ you couldn’t finish.

“Slenderman,” they said in perfect sync.

Splendorman

Another stop…

You couldn’t help yourself. Every time you walked past one of the posters fluttering lightly in the wind you had to stop and stare at it.

A few days ago, your dog, your beautiful and sweet puppy, had disappeared from your house without a trace. The missing posters were depressing reminders that he wasn’t home. It hadn’t taken long for your mind to spiral into the negative thoughts about how close the road was.

Damn your coworkers. One of the had suggested the road in the first place and while they hadn’t intended anything malicious, it was definitely not helping your fears.

The dog had been with you through thick and through thin… if it was dead, you may as well have lost a close family member.

Hanging your head, you dragged your eyes away from the poster and kept walking.

People bumped into you, but it was your fault. You refused to look up in case another poster distracted you. Getting home before the sun set was your only focus now.

You had tried going out and searching in all the places where your dog once spent time to no avail. Always willing to try again, you chose to drop off your bags and head out later that evening when you ran out of distractions.

As you walked through the gates in front of your house, a gust of air gently messed up your hair. A gust of wind suspiciously similar to a laugh.

Your logical mind told you it came from the street, but something made you stop in your tracks.

The walls around your property towered. There’s no possibility that somebody could be in your garden. To try and scale one of the walls, they would have been in full view of your neighbours who would have undoubtedly called the cops.

“You’re sad,” the wind whispered before you could brush off your suspicion.

Spinning wildly, you searched around for the source. You backed up until your entrance gate was behind you. You could run down to the main street with ease if you could just get your fumbling fingers to unlock things.

“Don’t run,” the wind said, this time blowing from a separate direction. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to know why you’re upset.”

Is this what going insane was? Nobody around and the wind was talking to you. You had always feared losing your mind and now it was happening.

“I’m real,” the wind said. “I’m hiding because I’ll scare you if you see me.”

“I’m going mad,” you muttered, shaking your head. “If this is somebody pulling a prank on me I swear….”

The wind quietened for a bit and then it picked up again, ruffling your hair as it spoke. “If I show myself, it’ll prove that you’re not going crazy, but I don’t want to make it worse by frightening you… you’re so sad already.”

“I lost my best friend and people have been telling me he’s most likely dead,” you hissed. “Obviously I’m not in the best mood. Now I’m losing my fucking mind and talking to air.”

The atmosphere around you dropped, like it does moments before lightning strikes. You glanced at the sky in confusion. As expected, no clouds in sight.

You lowered your gaze and a 7ft tall creature covered in bright polka dots stood in front of your house.

Once you screamed, it disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” the wind said. “I knew I would scare you, but I had hoped it would show you that I’m not imaginary. I’m just trying to help.”

The gate finally opened behind you and you stumbled backwards through it, your heart sitting in your throat. A monster was in your house and it was probably going to kill you. Spinning on your heel, you took off full speed back towards the main street.

You were fully expecting it to give chase now that you hadn’t fallen for its claims of harmlessness but it didn’t.

Instead you reached the main road and only got a few strange looks because of how much you were shaking. Nothing followed you.

The wind picked up once more. “I’ll try and help,” it promised.

People walking around you should have heard it as well but none of them so much as blinked.

Ticci Toby

While you had been told that a noise limit for the forest existed, your laughter refused to cooperate. It rang through the trees and probably chased off all the animals nearby. A picnic out in a national forest was a fantastic way to reconcile with nature and to scare it all away.

With eleven people in your picnic party, chances of any creatures coming into view were already slim though so you didn’t worry too much.

“We didn’t bring nearly enough fruit,” you muttered as you dug in the basket.

“Excuse you, I brought a whole watermelon but you ate it,” somebody answered your grumble. “If you want fruit, it is spring. Go and forage for some berries.”

You snorted. “Yeah, right. I’m going to go out by myself in the middle of the one season where bears are irritable as fuck. I know I sometimes act a little impulsively, but I don’t exactly have a wish to die at the claws of a grumpy teddy.”

Your friend leaned towards you. “Is that so? What if we split into teams and made a bet? Loser has to take a dip in the river.”

“A bet?” you asked. “I’m interested.”

She grinned and snapped her fingers. “Okay, there are eleven people so I’m feeling groups of two with one impartial party as a judge. We should be fine if we make enough noise and stick within close vicinity to each other. See how many berries we can gather?”

Tipping out the picnic basket’s contents, you smirked and pushed it into her chest. “Oh, I hope you brought a swimming costume.”

Everybody teamed up with ease and grabbed one of the many containers lying on the blanket. You headed out with your partner and gave a wink to the other teams. All you needed was to find one good bush first and you had it won.

“We should split up,” your partner said. “Cover more ground.”

You nodded. “We meet up back here once we’ve found a good bush,” you agreed. “And we shout if we find any animals.”

Obviously, your plans hadn’t involved losing your footing almost directly after the two of you split.

Tumbling down the small hill, you tried your hardest to protect yourself from the bushes as you went through them. At some point, you lost your basket and by the time you had finally rolled to a stop, you had no idea where it was.

Grumbling, you stood up and started searching until something dark caught your eye. Thinking it was your basket, you made your way over.

The clearing you walked into housed a scene you could never have imagined.

A dead bear lay slumped against a tree, its fur being what had caught your eye earlier. A hatchet buried in its neck was spilling blood onto the floor around it. All that hardly compared to the man leaning against a tree.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

His head immediately snapped up, allowing you to see that he was wearing a mouth guard and a pair of goggles. Blood seeped from between his fingers where they clutched against his chest, but he hardly noticed. A hatchet was hanging from his belt.

Suddenly, you were wishing you had kept your mouth shut.

He stared at you blankly for a while, an occasional twitch minorly affecting his body. Reaching up, he took off his mouthguard. “I can’t feel any pain,” he said. “So, I’m fine. Why are y-you out here? The hiking trail is far.” He struggled with one of the words, seeming to hiccup a little on it.

“I was searching for berries and I slipped down a hill,” you answered. “Are you sure you’re okay? It looks like you got into a fight with a bear. Your shirt is all bloody.”

“I did fight a bear,” he laughed, gesturing to it. “I won.”

Your eyes grew wider. “I think you should get to a hospital. What’s your name? I can call somebody for you and we’ll get you medical attention.”

“Toby,” he said. “That’s my name. What’s yours?”

You gave him your full name and pulled out your phone. “My friends are close by,” you said. “Don’t worry, they’ll be here to help soon.”

When you raised your attention from your phone, he had disappeared and so had the hatchet from the bear’s neck.

Trenderman

Work was hard. It made your feet ache, it made your back click and crack, and it felt like the problems would never end.

Would you give up working in the fashion industry? Not a chance.

Your boss walked past where you were calming down an irate customer over the phone and dropped the keys to the front of the building in front of you. “Close up for me,” she mouthed as she left.

Nodding, you moved them to the side of the desk where they couldn’t be lost.

Once you had finished calming the customer, you glanced around to check how many people were left in the room. Three still working and one in the process of leaving. You were technically going into overtime at this point, but you didn’t mind.

There was a reason you were promoted so quickly.

“We need to set up cameras!” one of the floor managers snapped, storming into the office. She marched straight over to your desk and glowered at you. “I put this request in a week ago.”

Scrolling through the documents, you quickly opened the file. “I see but it looks like it’s been bumped due to a shipment malfunction, I’ll flag it. What’s the problem?”

“Customers or members of staff are moving items around and throwing things out without warning. We need to catch the culprits!” she snapped.

“What has been thrown out?” you asked. “I’ll add it into the information.”

The woman started listing quicker than you could type. “I’ve found crocs, toeless thigh-high boots, bellbottomed jeans, coloured faux fur jackets, luminous lipstick, w-necks, and jeggings all in vast numbers in the trash can. Every time I put them out on shelves, they disappear again.”

It took everything in you not to snort. “I’ll mark this vital.”

She stalked off and you went back to inputting the shipping requirements. You were meant to be organising what was coming in for the latest line and subtly omitting anything that wouldn’t sell well enough.

Slowly but surely, your co-workers trickled out of the office after finishing off their daily tasks. You kept going, trying to make sure you could have a longer break the next day.

Finally, when the sun had already set, you relented and started getting ready to go home.

You sung as you finished packing up for the day. Being the last one in the building (thus having to lock up) made you a little more confident as you danced around getting everything together. You slung your bag over your shoulder and happily trotted over to the door.

It made you so happy that your boss entrusted you to be the last one around. She was so hyper-protective of company secrets that you were proud of yourself for winning her over.

Your talent with people was something you attributed to dealing with painful customers.

As you passed through the store-part of the business you stopped to rearrange a mannequin. Every morning when you came in, you always noticed something had been changed with this specific one. You figured you could move something small and see if it would be a good place to set up a hidden camera.

Though you weren’t expecting it to suddenly grab your arm.

“You may be one of the few workers here with good taste, but I advise you don’t try and change my outfit,” it said. It didn’t have a mouth, but the words rang in your head, nevertheless.

You screamed and pulled away, tearing your arm from its grip. Shelves were knocked over and clothing was sent flying as you tried to escape.

The mannequin just watched you as you fumbled madly for the door.

The glass rattled in the frame from how hard you slammed it shut behind you. You sped off down the street, moving faster than you ever had before. You collapsed on your lawn by the time you reached the house, taking deep breaths.

Nothing had followed you. Everything was okay.

With shaking fingers, you dialed your boss’ number and told her you would be taking a sick day. There wasn’t a chance in hell you were going anywhere near there again.

Not to mention the mess you made… you were definitely getting fired.

[eliemo]

Something Long and Stupid (Part 2)

Summary: Remus knew he wasn't a good person. He was Deadpool, a killer for hire, "the merc with a mouth." He'd come to terms with what he was a long time ago. He didn't need Spiderman to remind him of what he was.

He didn't need Virgil to come into his life and make him question it for the first time

Notes: Violence, blood, gore, sexual inneundos

I didn't make a taglist for this story but I know @teamplutoforlife wanted to be tagged <3 And thank you @cheshirevalentine for editing

Part 1

Remus was falling, twisting onto his back as he plummeted towards the ground, the buildings around him nothing but a blur as he flew past. He could faintly hear the construction on the ground over the pounding of his own heart and the howling of the wind rushing past him, barely hearing the alarmed shouts of the workers watching him fall.

Virgil was nothing but a speck in the distance now, perched on the edge of the roof. Lifeless white eyes watched him fall, unfeeling and still.

Pain exploded in Remus’s back as he slammed into something sharp, legs hitting the ground when he finally stopped falling. He could just barely make out the rusty, blood stained spike in front of him, poking through his chest from his back where he'd fallen, blood pooling around the wound and into his suit.

-

“Hey.”

Remus jumped so hard he nearly fell off the roof, scrambling to his feet and reaching for his gun as he whirled around to face whoever the fuck was stupid enough to sneak up on him.

Spiderman was perched beside him, apparently fine after his near death experience last night, and holding… a pizza box?

“Hey,” Remus said carefully. “What the fuck?”

Spiderman shrugged and held out the box in his hand. “I have pizza. You asked for pizza.”

Remus stared for a moment, frozen where he stood with his hand hovering over his gun, trying to figure out if this was a joke. “You… actually brought it?”

“Yeah?” Spiderman said, like he didn’t understand how this was in any way strange. “Oh did you… were you joking? Did you not actually want it, or—”

“No, I did.” Remus stayed right where he was. What the hell was this? Was this a prank? Was he being pranked?

“Then… here,” Spiderman said. He held out the pizza box, close enough for Remus to cautiously take. “I didn’t know what you liked so I just got cheese. But cheese is good. Everyone likes cheese.”

Holy shit. Spiderman was a dweeb.

Remus carefully opened the pizza box, and when there wasn’t a bomb or some kind of spider-themed booby trap inside, just a freshly baked cheese pizza from some local place he’d vaguely heard of, Remus let his shoulders relax and barked out a laugh.

“Well shit,” he said, pleasantly surprised. “Thanks, Webs.”

Spidey was shuffling a bit, looking ridiculously awkward, and Remus was suddenly reminded that they were both just… people under their masks. “Uh, yeah. No problem.”

Remus hesitated, because he hadn’t been kidding about Spiderman owing him a pizza he just… hadn’t actually expected him to follow through. There was no way Remus was eating all of it on his own, he barely ate much as it was.

“Do you, like…” he paused, wondering if this was going to get him punched or laughed at. “Do you want a slice?”

Spiderman actually startled, like him being asked to lunch was just as rare as Remus asking someone to lunch. Jeez, he’d have figured people begged Spiderman to eat with them all the time.

“I, uh… I bought it for you, so—”

“Yeah, and I’m offering. Christ, do you want some pizza or not?”

Spidey still hesitated, and while it was annoying as hell Remus supposed he’d be a hypocrite to judge when he’d been half convinced there was a bomb in the pizza box two minutes ago.

Well, it wasn’t like it would have been the first time.

“Uh, sure,” Spiderman said, still visibly wary. “Thank you.”

Remus ignored him in favor of opening the pizza box and setting it down, motioning for the vigilante to take as much as he wanted.

It wasn’t until Spidey turned away slightly to hook his fingers under the bottom of his mask that Remus remembered- duh- they both had to pull up their masks to eat.

It wasn’t a problem, it wouldn’t be nearly enough to risk exposing their faces to each other, but Remus really wasn’t in the mood to be gawked at. A glance at his jaw might ruin Spiderman’s lunch.

“I’m not looking,” Spidey said, and Remus realized he’d been hesitating for a few too many seconds. “I can go, if you don’t wanna pull up your mask around anyone.”

Remus waved him off, even as he continued to fiddle with the leather. “I’ve got some scars, is all. Like… a lot. People think they’re gross.”

“Oh,” Spiderman said, and then simply shrugged. “That’s fine, I don’t care. Scars happen, dude. I’ve got a bunch.”

Remus still hesitated, a little caught off guard from Spiderman calling him ‘dude' while so nonchalantly eating his pizza just a few feet away, but he quickly pulled himself together and tugged his leather mask up just below his nose.

It was just a few inches of skin, and still enough to reveal a handful of scars littered across his jaw, and the one that stretched down from his cheek.

Spidey barely glanced at him, which Remus guessed he should have seen coming. It’d be a little out of character for New York’s hero to be an asshole about someone’s scars, but you never knew with heroes. Some of them were pretentious assholes.

They ate their pizza like common civilians, perched on their rooftop and watching the people of New York mingle below.

Remus barely ate two slices. He didn’t really eat much to begin with, and it was far more entertaining to watch in silent awe as Spiderman easily finished the rest of the box. The hero was a good two heads shorter than Remus, and looked like he barely weighed a hundred pounds. If Remus didn’t know better, he’d think the guy never ate at all.

“My metabolism is different,” he explained sheepishly when he caught Reus staring. “I eat more than… you know. You. Regular people.”

Remus scoffed, because this was definitely the first time anyone had described him as a ‘regular person’ but he let it slide with an eye roll and a thanks for lunch.

They parted ways, and Remus let himself relax at the thought of having one less enemy roaming New York.

Remus hadn’t meant to start hanging out with Spiderman.

Really, he hadn’t. The impromptu pizza date was supposed to be the end of it, just a slightly awkward peace offering that made it clear neither of them would actively try to kill each other in the near future.

Remus had saved Spiderman because he was bored, and Spiderman had bought him a pizza. That was all.

But then less than a week later Spiderman had swung (literally) by with takeout- coincidentally from Remus’s favorite place a few blocks away- and Remus hadn’t been able to say no to sharing.

They’d shared a meal together three times in the last two weeks, and Remus was starting to think it wasn’t an accident.

It probably wasn’t helping that Remus had started carrying snacks on him.

Remus wasn’t going to eat them himself, and Spiderman was always complaining about how hungry he was, so he’d just started keeping packets of gummies or granola for when he saw the hero swinging past. Chucking them at his head was good target practice, anyway.

That didn’t mean they were friends. Remus didn’t have friends, because being friends with Deadpool was possibly the dumbest idea anyone could ever have.

Remus had seen what happens when people get close to him. He wasn’t going to go through that again.

Apparently, Spiderman had other ideas.

It had been just another fight that Remus had happened to run into, watching for a moment as Spiderman took down what was probably his third armed robbery of the day.

He knew he probably could have just continued on his way and gotten lunch, but there were five of them, all armed, and Remus didn’t feel great about those odds despite Spidey’s reputation.

So Remus had decided to return the favor, Spiderman had introduced himself by butting into Deadpool's fight after all, and stepped in to finish the job twice as fast.

And it had gone fine. Spiderman had greeted him with stupidly cheeky finger guns and unfortunately insisted they keep all of them alive, which wasn’t Remus’s specialty but he’d manage.

It had been easy, some druggie civilians no match for New York’s hero and the merc with a mouth, three of them encased in webbing within two minutes, another on the ground with a bullet in his knee.

It had been fine, until Remus was shot in the chest.

Which, to be fair, wasn’t a big deal. He was shot in the chest all the time. It’d be a hassle if he didn’t get the bullet out before his skin healed around it, but it wasn’t like he could die.

It occurred to him a bit too late that he had forgotten to tell Spiderman that.

“No!”

The raw panic and emotion In Spidey’s voice caught Remus off guard as he stumbled backwards, pain he was unfortunately used to by now exploding in his chest as the bullet met its mark. There had been a fifth goon, hiding out and biding his time, which would have been a great plan if it didn’t end with a face of webs and a swift punch to the temple.

Remus lowered himself to the ground, the wind knocked out of him, dark crimson blood pooling around his hand and flooding through his fingers as he clutched the wound.

Spiderman was rushing over, and Remus could practically feel the worry behind that lifeless mask. He skidded to a stop and dropped to a crouch, hands hovering, frantic and unsure.

And maybe Remus was just an asshole, but this was fucking hilarious.

“Deadpool?” Spidey called, the vigilante leaning over him as Remus dropped to lay on his back. “Jesus- hang in there okay? You’ll be fine.”

Remus forced himself to cough, wet and ragged, biting back a smile. “This is it for me, Webs. I can see the light.”

“Deadpool shut the fuck up!”

“Everything’s getting dark—”

“I said shut up,” Spiderman snapped, and Remus gasped involuntarily, arching his back when gloved hands pressed down on the wound. “You’re gonna be fine, you’re… just- just stay awake, okay? Don’t close your eyes.”

Remus coughed again to hide a smile, blood splattering his chin, closing his eyes anyway and letting his head fall back on the concrete. He stopped listening to Spidey’s rambling, committing to the bit of playing dead- very obviously playing dead, for the record. He stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth and everything, waiting for Spiderman to catch on and tell him off.

“No!” Except Spidey still sounded genuinely distressed, only pressing harder on the wound. “No, no, no! Deadpool! Wake up!”

Well. This wasn’t any fun if Spiderman was too panicked to even pay attention. He sighed, opening his eyes again to sit up slightly and whack the vigilante’s shoulder.

“I can’t die, stupid,” he said, grinning when Spiderman scrambled back. “Cut it out. I’ve just gotta get the bullet out so it doesn’t heal around it. Those things hurt like a bitch, so—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Remus opened his mouth to respond, because there were lots of things wrong with him and he had a list at the ready. But he didn’t get the chance because suddenly Spidey was throwing himself forward, wrapping his arms around Remus and pulling him close, probably getting blood all over his suit.

Haha, what the fuck?

“You’re such a bitch,” Spiderman said, muffled since his face was practically buried in Remus’s shoulder. “You’re the fucking worst.”

“Aww, were you worried about me?” Remus asked, burying his shock. “That’s so sweet, Spidey.”

“Shut the hell up,” Spiderman growled. “I thought you were going to die.”

“You were so worried! It was so cute, oh my god!”

Spiderman finally pulled back, only to rear back and punch Remus square in the shoulder. Hard.

Remus barked out a laugh, now nursing two injuries. “Fucking- ow. I still feel pain.”

“Sucks.”

Remus crossed his arms, wincing when it pulled at the bullet wound still in his chest. “Rude.”

“I’m rude?” Spiderman asked, incredulous. “You thought it would be funny to play dead!”

“To be fair,” Remus argued. “It was funny.”

“No it wasn’t!”

Remus shrugged, already turning his attention to the bullet in his chest. “If you had known it would be funny.”

“Well I didn’t,” he said, the mask’s white eyes glued to Remus’s hands. “I thought you were dying.”

“I can’t die,” Remus said. “That’s not a joke, Webs. I don’t just regenerate fast, I can’t be killed.”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know that?”

Remus shrugged, a little put off because this was not how he’d expected this to go. Damn Spiderman and his stupid savior complex.

He turned his attention back to the bullet wound, the pain already faded to a familiar numbness, but two gloved hands grabbed his wrists before he could start digging around for the bullet.

“Here,” he said, obnoxiously soft. “I’ve got it, let me help.”

“Nah, it’s cool,” Remus said, tensing against his will at the thought of someone else caring for a wound. “It’s not too deep, I can get it.”

“Are your gloves clean?”

He took a minute to consider that, calculating the swords he’d been holding, the gun he’d reloaded that morning, coming up blank when he tried to think of the last time he’d properly cleaned any of his weapons. Not to mention he had to climb buildings with his hands, lacking Spidey’s abilities to walk up walls and propel himself across the city in seconds.

“Probably,” he lied. “What am I gonna do, get sick?”

Spiderman hesitated. “Do you do that?”

“No.”

“I can still get it,” Spidey said. “Let me help.”

Remus scoffed, trying to cover up his own uneasiness. “You wanna stick your hand in there? You know it’s gross, right?”

“I know how to remove a bullet, Deadpool,” Spiderman said. “I’ve gotten shot before, I can get it.”

There was no reason not to drop his arms and let Spiderman do what he wanted. The asshole was stubborn, but he obviously meant well. With how shaky Remus’s hands were, Spidey getting the bullet out would probably be quicker anyway.

And he was the city’s hero. He’d made it clear he didn’t mean Deadpool any harm, especially not when the Merc had so graciously dropped in to save his ass today.

Remus didn’t know why it was so hard to just relax.

“This is dumb,” he said, wondering if he could annoy Spidey into giving up. “I can handle it fine.”

“I know,” the vigilante said. “But I want to help. It’s like...returning the favor or whatever.”

Remus sighed, a little shaky now, but reluctantly nodded. The longer they argued, the faster the skin would heal over the bullet still lodged in his chest, and Remus would really like to avoid that happening. Again.

“Fine,” he growled. “Jesus, you’re stubborn.”

Under the mask, Remus was sure Spiderman was smirking at him. “Look who’s talking.”

Remus hadn’t expected Spiderman to be so gentle. He was digging a bullet wound out of Deadpool’s chest, there wasn’t really a way to make this a pleasant experience, but Spidey was taking his time, moving carefully as he dug into the wound.

“Could you hurry up?” Remus growled, teeth clenched. This would have been over in seconds if he was doing it himself. It was so much easier to just stick his hand in the wound, dig around for a second, and rip the bullet out. “I’m not exactly a fan of having someone else’s fingers in my chest.”

Spiderman didn’t even spare him a glance. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I got shot,” Remus snapped. “We’re well past that.”

Spidey didn’t respond after that and Remus for once stayed quiet to let him concentrate, breathing heavily to try to ignore the panic that came with being vulnerable like this. The vigilante couldn’t kill him, but he sure as hell could cause him a shit ton of pain.

But he wouldn’t. Remus had to keep reminding himself that he wouldn’t. Spiderman was insufferably good- he wouldn’t kick someone while they were down.

Eventually Spiderman’s fingers found the bullet and Remus gasped, forcing himself to shove the pain away and make a lewd sounding moan when Spidey’s fingers left the wound.

“Jesus,” Spiderman muttered, and Remus laughed when he tossed the bullet dripping in dark blood to the side. “You okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Remus said, and he was. Physically at least. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a civil conversation with someone, let alone had someone willing to help patch him up. “See? All good. It’s already healing itself.”

True to his word, Remus’s chest was fusing itself back together, skin closing up over the still bleeding wound, the rest of the pain fading to a background throb. It’d be like nothing ever happened in ten minutes.

“Holy shit,” Spiderman muttered, leaning in close to watch. Remus tensed uncomfortably. “That’s...fucking wild.”

“Yeah, it’s great.” Remus brushed it off, scrambling to his feet and ignoring the way Spidey moved to try and help. “Anyways. Are there any more fights you need me to hold your hand through, or can I go take a nap?”

“Oh please,” Spidey scoffed. “I was fine. All you did was get in the way and get shot.”

“I saved your ass,” Remus retorted, smiling behind the leather mask. “You’d be dead if it weren’t for me, Webs.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Spiderman mumbled, but Remus was willing to bet money he was smiling too. “Go take your nap, Deadpool.”

Remus gave a mock salute, sheathing his sword and turning away from the remnants of the battle and starting for his apartment.

Maybe Spidey wasn’t so bad after all.

[softcallofdutyimagines]

More Then a Woman | Frank Woods x Fem!Reader | Chapter 5

Summary:

I once again expose myself for being into older men, and you and Woods go on your first date

Tags: Slow burn, fluff, age difference

Chpt 1 | Chpt 2 | Chpt 3 | Chpt 4 | Chpt 6 | Warnings: strong language and some age difference, in case you don't like that

“Anyway, can I help you with something?”

Your friendly voice and sweet smile pull him out of his thoughts. Frank looks down at you, and instantly lets his nerves get the better of him. This was a mistake from the beginning.

He looks away, attempting to mask his insecurities with a gruff exterior, “Uh, it’s nothing. Sorry, may-”

“Oh no no, it’s fine, really! I just have to deliver these papers and then I can be right with you”, you smile encouragingly, and then… he decides to stay. More due to the fact that he feels unable to say no to you rather than by his own resolve, however.

He’ll have to watch out for that.

So he waits. There’s exactly one other chair in your office, a squat cube shaped thing sitting on the other side of your desk. Clearly this is something you own and brought in, rather than a piece of furniture that was given to you like that plain old black office chair behind your desk. The chair looks like it was brightly colored once, and smacks of something salvaged from the early 70s and dragged into the modern era. Still, it’s rather comfortable despite the faded, slightly sagging state of it.

Frank traces his fingers up and down the angular arm rest, thinking of you. You know, now that he’s had the chance to look around… There’s actually quite a few things of the past in here. He sees a bulky old camera and even a typewriter tastefully displayed amongst a few other nik naks on your shelves, both of which look like they were rolled out around the time he was just a child.

For a moment, he feels uncomfortable again and far too old to be trying something like this with you. But then, the anxiety is washed away with the musing that perhaps…. You like old things.

He can’t help but huff a laugh at that. A wishful thought on his part, maybe, and yet… not completely untrue.

“What’s so funny?”, your curious voice pulls him out of his thoughts as you suppress a small laugh of your own.

“Huh? Oh, nothing just… That camera’s gotta be older than I am”, he chuckles and points to the black box of a thing just above you. “What are you doing with a piece of junk like that anyway?”, he laughs.

You gasp in mock hurt, “It’s not junk! It works!” Suddenly you seem to grow quite excited, trotting up to retrieve the object in question. Cradling it carefully, you swing around your desk and take a seat on the hardwood, showing off your treasure, “This is a Kodak Cartridge Hawk-Eye from 1926!” You enunciate the date excitedly as though it were a relic from the dinosaur days, meanwhile all Woods can think of is that that was only a mere four years before he was born.

For a few minutes longer, you go on giving a whole info dump on all you know about the little device, wave upon wave of building excitement adding to your voice and before long, Frank finds himself being swept up in it all. No offence, but… he really doesn’t give a single fuck about the camera. But, the way it has you grinning bright as sunshine. The electric spark in your eyes. The way you give his arm a gentle touch to brace him for what you seem to think is a very riveting fact…

He would listen to you talk about that damn thing all day, just to see you like this.

Before he knows it, the lecture is over and he couldn’t be more disappointed. You shake your head, just now realizing you’ve gone off on a tangent once again. “Ugh, sorry…”, you laugh it off and go to put it away, “I just get so excited about my antiques. I love that stuff, you know? Anyway, before I go off again… What was it you wanted to see me for?”

Suddenly, Frank can feel his heart clench tight. He had almost forgotten why he came, and now… he’s wishing you would’ve too.

“Oh? Uh, why… Why did I-? Uh… Yeah, um, so-”

Damn it! He never thought he’d say this, but he’d rather be in a gunfight right now. Anything then this… juvenile, high school shit. You’ve since returned to your spot on the edge of your desk. Despite his highly suspicious stuttering, your expression remains polite and even encouraging as you wait for him to formulate a coherent sentence.

While his mind reels for some sort of excuse, anything to get him out of this situation he’s dug for himself, his nervous gaze lands on the very last thing it needs to right now. Your eyes are glittering in this afternoon light. Do you know that?, he thinks. You’ve locked eyes right back at him, but the situation is anything but awkward. He appreciates the way that you aren’t afraid of him. That you’re willing to show him patience and understanding… Like he’s a fucking human being, instead of some crazy old veteran that you’re just indulging until you can finally get rid of him.

The longer he looks back at you, the more and more he can feel the tension melting out of him. Each muscle in his body slowly but surely unclenches, allowing him to relax at last as he leans back into his seat. He can’t lie to you. You don’t deserve that.

Damn it…

Frank breaks eye contact at last. He flexes his hand gently, working out the nervous energy, as he makes a fist. “I uh… I was just wondering if, maybe… you wanted to get coffee sometime…”

Immediately he braces for… well, he’s not sure what exactly, but rejection for sure. He closes his eyes so he can’t see the disgusted face you must be making, and all the muscles he’d just set at ease jump back into bands of iron across his chest, tensed so tight, he feels like his heart might stop. It’s only been a few seconds, but it feels like years have passed when you finally respond…

“Sure! What time would work for you?”

His eyes snap open as he jerks his head around to look at you, not entirely sure he heard you right. But then… there’s that same, sunny smile and electrified eyes that tell him you mean it.

“I-I uh…”, and just like that, he snaps out of it. Woods sits up straight, fixing a strand of hair that’s strayed from its place, and grinning excitedly himself. He hasn’t felt like this in… years. “W-well what time would work for you? I’m sure as shit not doing anything”, he laughs.

You think for a moment, “Oh! Say, do you go for a run on Saturdays too?”

Pft, not lately. “Yeah! Why?”

You light up, “Great! Tell you what, let's meet up and we can go for a run together then hit that coffee shop we met at last time. Would that be alright? Could be fun!”

As though you even needed to ask, he’s already agreeing. The two of you make some more concrete plans like the wheres and whens specifically before preparing to head your separate ways. You stop him and scribble down your number on a torn sheet of paper. “Just in case”, you smile. “And hey… Loser pays”, you break out into laughter.

“Oh yeah?”, he smiles back, “Don’t think I’ll go fucking easy on you!”, he calls, half way down the hall by now as you wave him off.

When you’ve retreated out of sight, Woods takes a look around. Alone again. Good. He reaches into his pocket and gingerly retrieves the slip of paper. Over and over again he reads and re-reads the chicken scratch handwriting you’ve produced. To him, it’s wonderful.

By the time he gets to his car, he feels like he knows that number better than his own dog tag ID. He slips the precious sheet into his wallet, the first of a few select reminders of you that he’ll keep safe in there.

As the few short days go by, he waits restlessly until he can see you again. And finally… Finally, Saturday morning comes.

5:26 am, and he’s up before his alarm. He doesn’t even need to check the digital clock to see what day it is. He already knows as he jumps out of bed and races to get ready. In no time at all he meets you early at the nearby park you agreed to meet at. You’ve come prepared in your high tops, short shorts, and nylon catsuit. Stylish and modern, but thankfully not as over the top as what the fashion industry would have you in.

It takes every ounce of willpower within him to keep his eyes up.

“Ready?”, you stretch your arms up high, only accentuating your body as you do so.

Frank can feel himself turning red as he status out an affirmative, earning… is that a smirk? from you.

“Alright then, ready… set…”, without warning you bolt off for a head start.

“Hey!”

He wants to be mad, but… He’s just having too much fun, damn it. About half way through, it’s a fair race, and although he’s beating you it’s not by that much. Once he’s proved to himself that he’s still got it, Woods allows himself to fall back, giving you the ego boost you need to stick it out and sprint to the finish, tired as you are.

Frank trots to a stop behind you shortly, only slightly more out of breath then you are. He may have let you win, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t give him hell in the first half.

“Cheater”, you give his shoulder a light punch and a knowing look.

“Me?”, he laughs, ignoring the accusation that he would ever let someone else beat him in a competition, “What do you call that stun at the start?”

You merely laugh, wiping some sweat from your brow as you head towards the door of the coffee shop. The bell chimes as you enter and walk up to the counter together. You place your orders, and Frank pays. You wait in silence for your orders, merely taking the time to completely catch your breath.

Drinks and breakfast in hand, you sit by the large bay windows together. The sun has just peeked over the horizon, filling the room with a golden glow. A halo of light shines around you, catching every perfect curve and angle you have to offer as you grace him with your presence. The food and coffees are nearly forgotten as you both get caught up talking about everything and nothing all at once. Conversation topics turn and change like leaves in the wind, easily transitioning from one to the other as you slowly yet surely get to really know one another.

Frank is on the edge of his seat, waiting eagerly to hear what you have to say next as he talks with you. It’s the most excited he’s been to hear someone else drone on and on in his entire life. By the time you’re both feeling talked out, the sun is well on it’s way to rising and the morning dew has since evaporated.

But, it doesn’t matter. How could he ever feel time was wasted when it was spent with you?

The two of you walk back towards the park, making sure to take it slow so you can get the most out of what little time you have left together.

“And then I said, ‘Looks don't count for shit in the jungle. This is 'Nam baby!’ “

You burst out laughing, “Did you really? And then what happened!”

He grins, “Well, the- Oh, wait, we’re uh, we’re here…”

The two of you stop at the edge of the parking lot. It’s practically empty aside from your lone car only a stone’s throw away. At that, the mirth seeps from you as well as you agree.

“Well… I guess… thanks. I had fun, you know”, Frank turns to face you, hoping more than anything that you enjoyed yourself as well.

“Yeah, me too!”, that familiar little smile that he’s grown so fond of slowly makes its way back. “Maybe… Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Besides,”, you act on a jolt of courage, stretching up on the tips of your toes to press a little kiss to his rough, stubbly cheek, “you have to tell me the rest of your story”

You lick your lip and give it a little nervous bite as you shyly take his hand in yours for comfort.. It feels huge, more like a bear paw than a human hand, compared to yours. “Well… See you later…”, you turn and begin to back away, holding his hand until you can no longer reach, forcing you to let go. You offer him one last smile, but all he can do is stand there, frozen amongst a roar of emotions.

Woods lifts a hand to his cheek, reverently caressing the spot your lips touched. The depth, breadth, and complexity of feeling circling in his mind are far too much for him to ever put into words. But, out of them all, one rings out loud and clear. He’s so, so…

Happy.

[eveningstar1516]

Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 11

Rise of the Demon King

Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: I gotta Discord server guys! It's primarily Obey Me but other fandoms are welcome as well. It's kinda baby and dead so me and the other members are looking to revive it and we'd love for you to come join us. A roleplay area is included :) https://discord.gg/F3YEmDZCPS Please remember to read and accept the rules once you join for access to all the channels. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously:

After that day, Beel would take responsibility for waking the youngest whenever he slept for too long and Belphie took responsibility for making sure Beel ate whenever he was awake. From that day forward, you’d never find one twin without the other close by. Their relationship strengthened, one relying on the other. Always being there when needed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ CHAPTER 11 - 2 Realms, 2 Families (2003 words)

Making my way up the palace steps, I took notice of the lack of angels tending the gardens or palace. Oh well, I thought to myself. It is still too early for any of them to get to work. Michael led me through the castle towards the throne room. It was the same route we took on my first day here, only this time, I had a sneaking suspicion that it was about to be my last. Stopping in front of the door, Michael announced our presence and waited for the angels inside to open the doors for us. I’ve been in the throne room a small handful of times since my first day. Today, however, the atmosphere felt a little off. Normally, one would feel a sense of dread walking into this room, as it usually meant punishment. All ceremonies took place in the garden, the throne room being deemed as an unofficial courtroom. Today the atmosphere felt almost, denser than usual. Michael and I made our way towards the throne and kneeled before Father.

“Rise”

Both of us responded with a “Thank you Father” as we stood. God turned to face me.

“I apologize for calling for you this late. I do hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Not to worry Father, I was actually up finishing this week's work when Michael came to get me. If I may ask, why did you want to see me?”

“I called you to make an offer. I have observed how you ran the council this past millennium. I’ve seen your leadership and your dedication to your job. I’d like to offer you a permanent spot on the council.”

“Father, I’m sure-”

“I’m well aware of our initial deal. Bear in mind that this will not impede on your ability to see the Sins again. As head of the council, it will be your job to oversee business in the Devildom as Michael had been while you were here. You will be able to travel between the realms for business and visit the brothers while you’re there.”

“But I’d have to return and continue serving you, won’t I?”

“That is correct. You are a unique individual Y/N. You are a human with the blood of a fallen, you accepted the demons and was still elevated to the Celestial realm. As such, you have experience from all three realms. This is a powerful tool to have.”

“For you. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I am not interested in staying, nor am I interested in allowing you access to this “tool” as you so crudely labelled my experience. I made it abundantly clear that I serve you under the condition that I return once Lord Diavolo has been crowned. As the Father of the Celestials, I expect that your promises would be kept. Unless that is your telling me I’d have more luck trusting a demon if I wanted promises kept?”

“Y/N! While you’re here, you still serve Father. You cannot speak to him like that!”

“I’m not wrong though am I? If that is all, I’d like to get some rest before reporting in. Good evening, or should I say morning?” I didn’t wait for a response as I bowed to Father and walked out of the throne room without so much of a glance back.

“I apologize Father. I will see that they don’t speak that way to you again.”

“That’s quite alright Michael.”

“Father?”

“I find it to be one of their more enduring qualities. They don’t take anything from anyone, regardless of their position. It’s a valuable trait to have, if used correctly.”

“Father, you weren’t really going to cement their position as the leader of the council, were you?”

“No, I knew they wouldn’t have agreed anyway. I wanted to test them. By offering the position permanently, they would have gained an abundance of power and authority.”

“Instead they turned it down to be with Samael and his brothers. I still don’t understand what they see in them.”

“It would be wise to re-think your opinion on Lucifer and his family. Contrary to what you think, they haven’t changed much. If you looked at it from an outsider's perspective, perhaps you’ll find that they’re still very much angelic.”

“Are you seriously telling me that with a straight face? I appreciate your suggestion Father, however, I highly doubt my opinion on them could change.”

“I am not telling you to change your thoughts about them overnight.” Standing up God stepped down and put a firm hand on Michael’s shoulder.

“I’m just reminding you that Pride is a sin.” God exited the throne room towards his personal chambers leaving a perplexed Michael standing in the throne room.

“I’m not prideful.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was wrong.

~3 Months Later~

“That is all for today. Does anyone else have anything that needs to be brought to attention before we leave?” I looked around the council table and took note of Azrael's continued absence. The angel of death was called for a quick meeting with God before the start of this meeting and had yet to return.

“Alright then. This meeting is adjourned. If anyone has anything they’d like to drop off, I’ll be working by the fountain." The council of 7 stood and started chatting amongst themselves as I packed up and left. A few weeks into leading the council, I found that much like the Devildom, I couldn’t find much peace anywhere indoors. As such, I turned to the gardens, in particular, the stone fountain. It reminded me of the one in my old village square back on earth and found a sense of peace here. I’m guessing the other angels got the hint of me needing some peace and quiet to complete my work as I’ve never been disturbed while I worked here. Anywhere else though, and it’s anyone’s game.

About halfway through my work, I decided it was a good time to take a break and get something to eat. Making my way to the makeshift kitchen area in the council building, I passed by Azrael and Michael conversing with each other. We exchanged some polite hello’s when something Azrael said caught my attention.

“I apologize for not making the meeting. There was an issue with a soul’s candle that was fluctuating that I had to deal with.”

“Fluctuating? I was under the impression that a soul’s candle can only slowly burn until the soul’s time runs out and the candle burns out or someone snuffs them out. How can a candle fluctuate?”

“It’s more like the candle was shifting, evolving. The flame itself is fine but the stick itself was changing. You see, the flame is just that, a flame that will never burn out until its designated time, or if as you put it, someone snuffs it out. It’s the stick that holds most of the magic. The type of wax used identifies the soul, its nature, and where it’s destined. Only angels of death, or reapers, can tamper with the stick and alter it, however, it seems this stick is changing itself without outside interference from myself or another reaper.”

“The stick is evolving on its own and this is a cause for concern because this type of thing shouldn’t be possible and has never happened before?”

“Essentially.”

“What did you do about it?”

“For now, nothing. We’ve tried manually altering it ourselves but it keeps rejecting the change. I have a junior reaper watching it now. He’ll update me if anything changes. That is all I can tell you for now.”

“That understandable, thank you for sharing anyway. Good luck with the candle.” At that, my stomach rumbled.

“Go enjoy your lunch” Azrael replied, walking away with Michael.

“Why did you tell them all of that?” Michael demanded of Azrael.

“They have a right to know. Besides nothing would be gained by hiding it from them. It’s best they are aware of the situation.”

“That’s not your call to make Az.” Michael responded angrily as he stopped. Azrael turned to face him, a calm mask slipped on.

“Yes, it is Michael. It’s my call as the leader of the reapers and the overseer of their candle. What isn’t right is how you keep insisting that they be left in the dark, blissfully ignorant. Despite what you may think, they are a bright soul and have brought much light with them, even to the brothers. I understand why you feel about them the way you do, but times have changed. They have changed, and so have the rest of us. Everyone but you. It’s time you change too before you do something you’ll regret.” With that, Azrael left, leaving Michael standing there thinking about what the reaper had said and thought back to what their Father had said 3 months ago. Threading his fingers in his hair, he made his way to his office, hoping to distract himself from these thoughts with some extra work.

~7 Years later~

“Y/N'' I woke up realizing that I fell asleep at my desk again. Looking up, I saw Uriel looking down at me. His hand on my right shoulder shaking me awake.

“Father would like to see you. Go get dressed please. I’ll be waiting outside.” Uriel left, closing the door behind him. I leaned back thinking about why God would want to see me, especially this early in the morning.

Not wanting to Uriel waiting for too long, I tidied up the papers at my desk, and sleepily made my way to the bathroom to take a quick shower and get ready. Once I finished, Uriel and I set out except this time, instead of heading to the palace, we headed for the gates.

When we arrived, I found that the rest of the council including Azreal and Simeon were already there and waiting for us. We landed and bowed our respects towards Father. Uriel joined the council in a semi-circle behind God.

“Y/N, as I’m sure you realized, the time has come for you to return to the Devildom. I offer you one last chance to stay here. You should know that once an angel falls, they’re not allowed back. Y/N, if you through with this, you will be cast out from the Celestial realm. Are you ready to make that sacrifice?” Looking to the council standing behind God. I recalled the past millennia I spent with them. While I tried to keep a professional relationship with them, they ended up growing on me and we became a little family of our own. I realized that I was going to end up missing them. None of that matters though, not anymore. I’m finally going home, to my real family. To the brothers. Ignoring God, I addressed the angels gathered behind him.

“Thank you, all of you. Despite our differences, you all still accepted me and let me into this little family of yours. I’ll be sure to remember all you’ve done for me and I hope we could meet again someday. Oh and Mike.” Michael looked at me, surprised that I singled him out. “You don’t belong down there. Don’t forget that.” I turned back to God giving him my answer.

“Yes, I am willing.” Giving me a nod of affirmation, God addressed me for the last time.

“Y/N, Virtue of Loyalty and former leader of the virtues.  I hereby strip you of your angelic status and cast you out into the Devildom for the sin of misplaced loyalty.” I faced the edge, ready to jump when I realized I had forgotten something. Turning around, I looked God straight in the eyes and threw the strongest right hook I had ever thrown in my life before jumping backwards, tucking in my wings and closing my eyes. A content sigh leaving my lips as I let the darkness engulf me whole.

I’m coming guys. Wait up for me

[minaslittleone]

Fission & Fusion (Part 2)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: How did the refined and proper Wilhemina Venable end up working for two coked-up tech bros out of the back of a van?

An origin story of sorts, dedicated to the amazing @lucyintheskywithxanax who has developed such a beautiful and nuanced depiction of Mina. This was inspired by her incredible story "And I failed to climb the mountain".

Word count: ~2700

The hours after that were fuzzy. After storming out of her parents house with little more than the bare essentials and no intention of returning Wilhemina didn't really have much of a plan. She had never fantasized about running away as a child, she hadn't even been brave enough to rebel vicariously and yet here she was, with no plan and no where to go. And terrified.

But Wilhemina was nothing if not practical so she sequestered all of those doubts and anxieties down into the deepest corners of her brain to be dealt with later, she told herself. Really to be dealt with never.

Practically speaking, money was her first concern. She knew that her mother's threat to cut her off had not been idle, but she also hoped that her mother would continue to underestimate her long enough that she would be able to clear the remaining funds out of her account before her mother froze it. Her pride raged against the idea of taking the idea of taking the money religiously placed into her "allowance" once a month by her father, hating how spoiled that made her sound and wanting to be free of any lingering ties to her parents. She would have gladly traded every last dime for any other monthly ritual with her father, for anything with him really. But she was a casualty of her parents' failing marriage, the only thing that they hated more than each other was the idea of acknowledging that their marriage had long since fallen apart. Her father avoided the house like the plague, and her by extension, throwing himself deeper and deeper into his professional life to mask the failure of his personal one. And so their relationship had become almost completely transactional, her father attempting to atone for his absence by providing her with everything she could ever dream of, save for the one thing she truly wanted - his affection. But as much as she hated the money and everything it represented, she really wasn't left with much of a choice.

That was how she found herself standing in front of a bank teller at 1:30pm on a Wednesday afternoon, lying through her teeth and praying that her voice wasn't shaking as much as her hands. Exactly how she had got there she wasn't sure - a bus? Surely she hadn't walked this far - she was completely focused on getting what money she could and getting out.

The process was certainly made easier by the fact that she had been coming to this branch since her father had opened the account on her sixteenth birthday. And maybe for once in her life her twisted frame would be an asset - it was difficult to forget a girl her age with flaming red hair and a cane.

So she lied. She told the teller that she was using the money to put towards a car but that her parents were unfortunately too busy to accompany her. That part wasn't even really a lie, her parents were always too busy. Either way the teller didn't seem to see anything unusual about depositing the entire $5000 balance into Wilhemina's hand, before politely wishing her a pleasant day.

She had thought she would feel safer with the money in hand, feel like she had more control over the situation. In fact all it did was make her realise how vulnerable she was. How she would never be able to defend herself if someone decided they wanted to take it from her. Maybe her mother had been right, maybe she really was too broken and useless to survive on her own.

She could feel her heart racing. She had to find somewhere to stay. Find somewhere that she could get off the street. Maybe then she would feel safer. Maybe.

Except she didn't know how long she would need to make that $5000 last. She had no job and had effectively forfeited her degree the minute she walked out her parents' front door. Any future prospects she had were tied to their connections anyway. Oh god, what was she going to do? She had no experience and no qualifications, and any jobs that would have been open to her without those were made impossible by her twisted spine. She wouldn't have been able to stand for long enough to finish a shift as a waitress, let alone carry much whilst also maneuvering her cane.

So she would have to make the money last. At least until she managed to come up with a better plan. Which is how she found herself unpacking her meagre possessions into a battered shell of a room in a run down hotel that offered rooms by the hour. As she eased herself down onto the bed, finally allowing her back some respite after hours on her feet, she reasoned that this was the best choice for now. And she would think of something, this was only temporary.

But it hurt. The adrenaline from her triumphant exit earlier that morning was long gone and now she was left with the painful reality of what life on her own would look like. At the moment it consisted of a sea of mismatched floral patterned fabrics, a green melamine kitchenette and far too many questionable stains.

She felt like she was suffocating, that the battered walls with their pealing wallpaper were steadily encroaching on her, squeezing the last ounces of calm and confidence out of her by force. She had to get out, had to keep moving, had to keep busy lest the reality of her situation catch up to her and drown her in its melancholy.

She burst from the room, shaking fingers struggling clumsily against the lock. She had to get away, to be anywhere but here. Away from the stale smelling room with the pealing wallpaper. Away from the lumpy bed swathed in garish floral covers of questionable cleanliness. Away from the suffocating reminder of how alone she was.

It shouldn't have surprised her that she would end up back in the college library, it's where she spent most of her time any way, finding any excuse she could not to go home. It was quiet and it was safe. Between the warm, dim lighting and the earthy smell of the old wooden shelves and the books themselves Wilhemina finally began to calm. She could feel the tension to funnel out of her trembling fingers, feel heart finally stop racing and draw her first real breath in hours.

She didn't know how long she sat there, not really seeing or hearing the world around her, just being, adjusting. Letting her body and mind begin to come to terms with her situation. Start to reset her parameters and realise that she wasn't going home tonight, that there wasn't a home to go anymore. Perhaps there never had been, not in the ways that mattered.

She was drawn from her haze by the gentle but insistent whispering of her name that indicated that this wasn't the first time the owner had tried to rouse her. As her vision cleared she was met with the kind, if not slightly concerned countenance of her adviser, Professor Thompson.

"Is everything alright, Wilhemina?" She could only nod dumbly in response. "I missed you in class this morning" the older woman added. "I know you said had a specialist appointment and might be late, but I got worried when you never showed up. Did everything go ok?" Wilhemina couldn't find the words to answer, couldn't find a way to explain how her life had been pulled out from under her in the preceding few hours. Her mouth guppied in response, producing several sounds that could have been the start of ideas but nothing intelligible.

Professor Thompson's brow furrowed. Over the years that she had known Wilhemina Venable she had always been impressed by her tenacity. For all this young woman had endured, she had refused to let it define her. She was always the first present in class, sitting front and centre, attention never wavering, even on the days Professor Thompson could see the tell tale signs of pain breaking through her indifferent facade. The tension in her brow and jaw, the twitch of her lips and narrowing of her eyes at each spasm, the shifting in her seat in a desperate effort to find some level of comfort. There was a hardness, a determination in the eyes of that girl which said she refused to give up which was notably absent now, replaced by a glazed, foggy expression that made Professor Thompson's heart hurt.

"Wilhemina," she tried again, "would it be easier if we discussed this in my office?" The redhead's eyes rolled up to meet hers almost drunkenly, obviously still not entirely processing the world around her. She managed a small nod, vacant eyes focusing somewhere in the middle distance. "Here, let me take your bag" she offered, hands floating just beyond Wilhemina's shoulders as the redhead hoisted herself to her feet, swaying slightly as she found some semblance of equilibrium.

Professor Thompson couldn't help but bring a hand to gently cup Wilhemina's upper arm, causing the younger woman to finally meet her gaze. Oh and didn't it just break her heart, the pleading terrified desperation she found in those deep brown eyes. "Come on, dear" she coaxed, "this way."

Wilhemina felt herself start to come back into her own body as she sat in Professor Thompson's office, old worn leather chair beneath her and warm cup of sweetened tea pressed into her trembling hands.

Professor Thompson noticed the change as well. "Easy, dear" she cautioned, as Wilhemina's shaking hands tried to raise the warm mug to her lips. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes" Wilhemina managed to rasp.

Professor Thompson reached out her hand to rest on Wilhemina's knee, rubbing slow comforting circles. "Do you think you can me what happened? Was it something at your appointment? Do you need another surgery?"

"No" Wilhemina whispered, teeth worrying her bottom lip before lifting her eyes to the older woman, who's warm gaze encouraged her to continue. "The surgeon doesn't want to do anything, doesn't think it's necessary to do anything. My mother on the other hand is not satisfied and won't be until I look *normal*"

"I'm sure she just wants the best for you" the older woman tried.

"She wants me to stop being an embarrassment. She flat out told the surgeon she doesn't care about my pain, she only wants him to fix how hideous I look." It was happening again, Wilhemina realised, the years of repressed pain and frustration spewing out of her unbidden. "The surgeon stopped recommending procedures when I was eighteen because they weren't likely to help but my mother kept insisting because I looked so hideous she couldn't stand it. She put me through years of pain because I was so ugly and she was so ashamed of me." Her voiced cracked as the tears she had tried so hard contain broke free down her cheeks.

"She was trying to do it again" Wilhemina choked. "She was trying to convince him to operate again and I finally told her no."

"And how did she take that?" Professor Thompson asked, almost fearing the answer. Wilhemina let out a self-depricating laugh through her tears, rolling her eyes. "Wilhemina," she added urgently, gently squeezing her knee to get her attention, "she didn't hurt you, did she?"

Wilhemina stopped at that. "Not physically, no." A beat of understanding passed between the two women before Wilhemina continued. "She threw me out, cut me off, told me I was completely on my own unless I agree to have the surgery. Told me I can kiss my degree goodbye." The older woman gasped. "I told her she could have it, I was done with her controlling my life."

Professor Thompson reached out to take Wilhemina's hands, squeezing them in her own. "That was so incredibly brave." Wilhemina let out a wry chuckle "You don't think I'm completely mad?" Another warm squeeze of her hands. "Absolutely not. I think you are so strong."

Wilhemina raised her eyes again to meet those of her professor, searching them for the signs of a lie. Finding none she felt her chin begin to tremble as she fought against the tears.

She lost. The tears came bubbling out of her against her will. Tears for the years of pain she had endured, both physical and emotional, at her mother's hands. Tears for the little girl who spent years in pain trying to convince her parents that it wasn't all in her head. For her childhood that had been stolen from her. For the little girl alone in a hospital, who's parents were far too busy to visit, who was left to rely on nurses for comfort and support. For the twenty four year old woman who had just lost everything.

She curled in on herself as much as her twisted spine would allow, rocking rhythmically backwards and forwards, trying in vain to offer herself some comfort. She felt the chair next to her dip and then she was being cradled in her advisors arms - how embarassing. But try as she might she couldn't quiet the hysterical sobs.

Eventually pulled herself out of the older womans arms, trying to regain some level of dignity. Professor Thompson gave her hands one last squeeze as she let her go.

"We will find a solution to all of this" she assured "but for now all of that can wait. You need to eat and you need to sleep. You must be exhausted" Wilhemina nodded, still frantically pawing at her tear-stained cheeks. There was no point hiding anymore, not after her earlier display.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Professor Thompson asked. "You're welcome to my spare room if not"

"No it's fine" Wilhemina replied, glad to avoid imposing on her professor further. "I have a hotel room."

"Ok I'll drive you" Wilhemina tried valiantly to rebuff Professor Thompson's kindness, but the older woman would not be dissuaded. And once Wilhemina realised how dark it had gotten she was secretly grateful.

As the car came to a stop in front what currently passed for Wilhemina's lodgings, Professor Thompson took her hand once more. "After work tomorrow" she pressed "I am picking you up and you are having dinner with me. It will give us a chance to come up with a plan for what happens next. I refuse to see someone as smart and driven as you are, Wilhemina, be sabotaged by negligent parenting. We will figure this out."

Wilhemina couldn't even bring herself to try and rebuff such kindness, for how her heart ached for it. Instead all she could manage was a watery "okay" and tremulous smile. As she walked back to her room she felt lighter than she had all day, tension finally beginning to drain from her body like water trickling down her arms and plummeting from her fingertips.

Exhaustion quickly rose to fill vacancy making her limbs heavy and fingers clumsy. Almost there, she told herself as she struggled with foreign keychain, not much longer. Just inside the door and then you can rest. But try as she might her exhausted mind could not make sense of the lock nor could it co-ordinate her trembling fingers well enough to keep hold of the keys which fell limply to the concrete just beyond her door.

It was as if the universe was laughing at her, she thought, as she gingerly squatted down, bending her legs to compensate for her immobilised spine. After all the humiliation she had endured today she could not be allowed to rest without at least one more reminder of her inadequacy. So fucking useless, the voice in ear chided, so fucking stupid. Hurry up and pick up the god damn keys and open the door like a normal, functional human being. Can you manage that much at least?

And maybe she could have managed it had the hand she extended to reach for her keys not been firmly crushed into the concrete and pulled away from her by a steal-capped boot, upsetting her precarious equilibrium and sending her sprawling face first into the concrete.

"Now, what's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?"

A/N: Ok, so number one - I'm sorry (ducks). I promise I won't hurt her too much. This part wasn't even in my original plan but then the angsty little plot demons took over and here we are. Number two - for those of you who are interested I wrote Professor Thompson with Prof. Stromwell (Holland's character from legally blonde) in mind because I think she is exactly the type of tough but caring person that baby Mina would be drawn to. But also because I'm dying to see Sarah and Holland work on a project together, so this was my own vicarious little head cannon.

[janekfan]

What about Jon, crying frustrated tears back either pre Canon or in S1 and Tim comforting him and helping out until the breakdown has passed, contrasted with Jon, crying frustrated tears either from being so overwhelmed or from something Tim did in seasons 2/3????

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27581069

Finally! Sorry it took so long!! <3

It was cold. Of course it was, it had to be to protect the documents packed in boxes floor to ceiling all around and everywhere he looked there were more and there was no way he could do this!

Inhale, exhale. Calm down.

He’d have to remember to bring a spare jumper so he could work because as it was now his fingers were too numb to work properly and when he tucked them under his arms it only made him feel worse. Made him feel small and alone. Reminded him of a lonely childhood.

Stop it.

But Jon didn’t know where to begin. He could pretend. He could keep his assistants busy with real work, that wasn’t a problem but what was he to do? What did an Archivist do, really? Archive? Organize? How? When everything was a giant, muddled mess filed, a generous term, in no real order or catalogue he’d been able to understand. It was all just.

Overwhelming.

A splash of wet warmth collided with his wrist and embarrassed, Jon scrubbed hastily at the tears streaming down his cheeks. This was, he was stupid. Stupid. He should be able to handle this. At the end of the day, wasn’t it just shuffling papers around? Putting them in some semblance of order that only had to make sense to him? It had certainly worked for Gertrude. The sorrow and frustration came anyway, falling from his eyes and heating his skin and he was so caught up in his own discomfort that by the time he processed someone entering his office, it was too late to hide.

He tried anyway.

“Oh, Tim. Yes. Wh’what can I do for you?” It was a useless misdirection; Tim was sharp eyed and protective and honestly, it was a relief to see him because if Jon was going to continue crying (and it didn’t seem like he would be stopping anytime soon) there was no one better.

“Jon? What’s wrong? What’s happened?” And the tears which he’d managed to slow, came back full force and Jon tucked his chin to his chest and shook. “Ah, hey now, can’t be as bad as all that.” Gentle, Tim tugged him close, holding him around his shoulders and allowing him to bury his hot face in his stomach. “You’re alright. Whatever it is, we’ll help, okay, Boss?” A palm swept up and down the seam of his spine. “We’re a team! We can do anything if we’re together.” Jon pulled in a hitched and shuddery breath, nodding resolutely. Tim allowed him a few more quiet moments before ushering him out of his office where Martin and Sasha were certainly not waiting for them. Martin approached first, compassion shining clear in his expression, and took up his hands.

“You're freezing! Here, come with me. I’ll make you some tea and get you warmed up straight away.” Martin would hear nothing of his protests, pulling him gently away to the breakroom, warm fingers curled around his own. Just this once, Jon would let it happen, the reassuring glow of being surrounded by friends soothing the remnants of panic that had overwhelmed him so thoroughly before Tim found him. They were speaking easily around him about nothing important and Jon let himself drift in the current of their familiar voices.

It was cold down here. And dark, though Jon could See just fine, like he couldn’t hear them but Knew they were searching and feared the worst, that he’d gone hunting in the streets for first-hand accounts of terror. He welcomed the chill seeping its way beneath his skin, numbing his fingers and toes. It meant some part of him was at least close to human.

He reveled in the weird, sharp hunger that gnawed on tender nerves, appreciated the gravity of it and let himself sink into the deep, syrupy ache. He's on the brink. Can feel it in the heavy throbbing in his chest, behind his heart, taking up every empty space and making it difficult to breathe. The weight of his mistakes he supposed, a breadcrumb path he could follow all the way back, beginning with accepting the Head Archivist position instead of walking away. Then again, he’d never known when to stop and that didn’t seem like it was going to change anytime soon; that need for answers, to understand, to connect every dot, to soothe the sting of losing all his friends in favor of embracing a monster.

But Lord he missed them and they were right there. They just weren’t there for him anymore and he had only himself to blame.

Jon doesn’t ask for comfort, he’d be the first to admit he didn’t deserve any and is...content he thinks is the word, to wait until Tim and Martin and Melanie and Daisy and Basira decide he’s suffered enough to prove his worth and let him back in. It was cold down here. It was colder alone and the temptation to give in was so strong if only because he’d be warm again and he’s so, so tired of being lonely.

But he could get something nearly as good. Recognition that something happened to him, that he was still here, still Jon even if he was unwanted, there was enough of him left to hate. He knew how to be that. He'd always been that. Static, now always a low, persistent hum in the back of his mind, shoved forward suddenly with the Knowledge that Tim had decided to look in the tunnels.

Tim wanted to hurt him and he wanted to be hurt. To let it assuage the guilt even for a moment.

Jon already Knows he's spoiling for a fight.

Of course he was the one who would find Jon. Arse is mere meters down the tunnel and leaning with his back against the wall, arms hanging loose over knobby knees and looking for all the world like someone had kicked his puppy.

And what right did he have when he was the cause of all this fear and paranoia and death.

“Tim.” Bland recognition and it sent a shiver racing up his spine because it wasn’t like he had to turn and check, not with his spooky powers. No. He just knew everything now, didn’t he? How convenient. Tim could barely reconcile the figure in front of him with the friend who used to work with him in Research. This Jon was a slip of a man. An intruder he didn’t know and didn’t want to know. This Jon was lies and secrets and silvery scars mapping out the tragedy he’d led them all into willingly in his search for more and more and more. Damn the consequences, never content to let things be. No. This Jon was disorder and disarray, wild curls and no tie and the buttons leading up to his rust stained collar undone. There was dirt caked under the nails of his unbandaged hand and cobweb mingling with the premature grey in his hair and the nervous, twitching energy, the inability to stay still, conspicuously absent.

This Jon was a stranger who didn’t care who he harmed.

This Jon threw them all away like they were less than rubbish and the only way Tim could stomach interacting with him was behind a mask of contempt and hostility.

“Thought you’d be out looking for victims.” Involuntarily his lips curled up in a sneer.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Meticulously enunciated and condescending, strange eyes fixed to the wall in front of him. It angered him that Jon wouldn’t look at him. He could at least have the decency to look him in the face when he lied to him.

“Why are you down here anyway? Hiding? Plotting?” Jon snarled in response, low and dark, brows knitted in scorn.

“And what business is that of yours?” Bare more than a keen hiss and all Tim heard was an invitation to the party because it was so much easier on his conscience to paint Jon as deserving rather than admit he might be as much a victim here as the rest of them. Such a convenient target to aim at, to focus the knife edged anger and rage and agony at and Jon is so good at pushing every button. It was like he wanted this. Wanted to fight.

“Someone has to keep track of you and your secrets! Your lies!” Tim closed his eyes and tugged on his hair. “They’re killing us and you don’t even care!”

“You don’t know that.” Well now he had his attention and the flash of unnatural viridian had to be a trick, a reflection.

“I don’t need supernatural powers to know you!” He saw the hit land in the way Jon’s expression slipped and Tim felt good, the rush of adrenaline flooding his veins was heady and strong. “You’re running. From everything. And it all started when you began running from us.”

“I’m not.” At this point, Tim wasn’t sure Jon was capable of standing because surely he wouldn’t take this sitting in the dust and he didn’t care. This was the most he’d felt since this all began. He didn’t want to give it up. Not yet. Not before he’d made Jon understand.

“You're not even trying!” He spat, watching his shaking hands curl into fists, watching shadows soak into the bandages. “You just let things happen to you--”

“Oh yes, Tim!” Hurling his name like a curse, Jon stared up at him, narrow chest heaving fast. “I just let the Circus have me. I just let Daisy beat me unconscious and threaten to put me down.” For a moment, Tim thought he saw tears glittering on his face. “What do you know about how hard I'm trying?” The whole of him was shaking now, trembling as he sucked down noisy breaths. “Always sulking about this place! Maybe if you’d been paying better attention you’d have noticed Sasha was gone!” He collapsed against the wall, lazy grin carving up his face. Like he’d won the game. Landed the finished blow. “You may claim to know me. But clearly, you never knew her.” Lunging with a hoarse cry, Tim snatched him up by his collar, so close to the healing slash crusted with old blood bisecting his throat.

He only smiled wider. Manic. Frantic. Fingers grasping automatically at his wrists and Tim could feel sticky warmth marking his arm.

"Go on then! I know you want to.” Jon was whispering, words tripping over themselves in his haste to spit them out. “You can't stand me. Just like Daisy can't stand me. You want this. I Know yo--"

An echoing crack followed after the back of Tim’s hand collided with Jon’s mouth.

Replaced soon after by blessed quiet broken only by Jon’s harsh and strangled panting.

Tim dropped him back to the floor. Shaken. Disgusted. He didn’t know with whom. Maybe both of them.

"You never shut up."

Jon tongued the cut on his lip while Tim watched a bead of ruby so dark it was almost black roll down his chin and drip down onto the white fabric of his rumpled dress shirt where it would dry and age and match the rest that was there before whatever this was. He didn’t bother wiping it away.

“Feel better?”

“You know I don’t.”

Shaking out his hand, Tim collapsed beside him in silence, staring resolutely ahead, lips pressed thin until Jon’s head tipped slowly forward, chin coming to rest on his collarbone and smudging more red. Even in his peripheral vision Tim recognized it for what it was and knew if he looked properly he’d see tears steadily falling from his damned eyes despite how hushed he remained. He peeked anyway, witnessed him cave in and bring arms up to hug himself in a desperate bid to hold his pieces together. But he doesn't look at Tim. Doesn't reach for him like he used to.

"I am trying." He whispered, voice immeasurably limned with exhaustion.

Like a switch had been flipped, he was Jon again. Tired and drawn. Overwhelmed and lost and isolated. Tipped so far over the edge he goaded Tim into striking him because it was the best he could expect. Because at least he had Tim's full attention for a moment. And Tim walked right into it, led easily like a moth to a flame.

What a pair they made here at what might be the end of all things.

Troubled, Tim pulled him roughly into his side, hardening his heart against the whimper of pain and the stiffening of his entire body. Jon was skin and bone. Had dropped at least two stone he couldn't afford to lose. Tim had watched it happen and done nothing.

There were no apologies exchanged and when Tim dragged him stumbling into the light of the Archives, no one commented on the split lip or the new bruise or the blood dried and flaking that traced his jaw.

Jon was just a stranger.

No one cared if he'd been harmed.

[cesabutterflywrites]

Will Bring You to Your Knees

Part [3] in An Angel’s Smile Series

“In his naked glory, the mortals wept at the witness of true divinity-and confessed to their many sins”

Summary: Janus Ethan Dannecker starts college with only a box, backpack, $300, and a ton of emotional baggage that is overwhelming. The broken home he came from cast a shadow on him that he refused to let anyone see. The scars on his body were no match for the scars on his soul. He made it his mission to never let anyone see where he came from. See what he was really made of. See how messed up he would always be.

That is, until Patton Mavers smiled at him.  Ao3 [First Part] [Previous Part] [Next Part Coming Soon] [Spotify Playlist]

Word Count:  1761

Story Warnings: past abusive childhood, angst, untreated/undiagnosed mental illness symptoms, detailed descriptions of abuse, cursing, implied/referenced substance abuse. Rated M for Mature audiences. Let me know if I need to add more, and read with caution!

Will Bring You to Your Knees

Janus woke up to the sound of Green Day’s ‘Holiday’. Well, more like he startled so hard he fell off of his bed and hit his head on the desk next to him. The sound of Virgil’s alarm blared in the small room obnoxiously. It was too early for that garage music, in his opinion. The assault on his ears seemed to have no effect on Virgil, who was the one who set the alarm  in the first place.  

 Janus hissed in pain, rubbing the spot and watching his roommate shuffle in his bed to turn off the alarm. Virgil didn't even get up, he just rolled over in his bed and immediately started snoring. Janus took a moment to stare incredulously. Who set an alarm so loud and startling only to just fall back asleep after turning it off? 

He cursed himself immediately. He had no right to judge how Virgil conducted his mornings. He was rude for even thinking about it. It was one more thing to hate about himself-the silent snap judgements about something that wasn’t that big of a deal. 

 He closed his eyes. He was so weary from his fitful sleep. He had once again been dreaming about his true self. The self he hid at all costs- the one who was evil. The version of him who was always screaming in his mind. He had dreamed of what his true self would say to Patton. He would break down. Scream in his face about how he would never be fine. 

 He sat there, leaning against the desk while he ran his hand through his greasy hair. He hadn’t been able to clean himself for a while before he arrived. He knew that the dorm had community showers, similar to what locker rooms were like. He had read about it in his brochure, and had dreaded the day he’d have to navigate the challenges it would pose.

 Janus sighed after he pulled himself up. He had his first class in two and a half hours, he noted after glancing at the clock by his bed. He took out his phone-an old model on its last legs, which would need replacing soon-and gazed at it intensely, as if begging the device to magically tell him whether or not he had time for a shower and crisis before getting to class.

 Realizing time was slipping away, he decided to go for it. He’d be in a dorm for a year, at least, and he needed to get over the fear of community showers at some point. It was ridiculous to be so embarrassed.  He could probably easily avoid having people see the scars all over his body...he hoped.

 Part of him thought it was too early in the morning to be paranoid. The other part laughed, because it wasn’t like Janus could ever settle down enough to let go of his insecurities. It was useless to even think he’d be done with his fear of the world. As long as his skin was marked, he would never be convinced of his freedom. 

 As he gathered his things, he started thinking of lies he could tell if anyone saw the marks covering his shoulders, back, and abdomen. He could say gruesome animal attack, but quickly discarded that. Too many follow up questions. Maybe a bully at school? No, too much sympathy. He grew frustrated at the lack of preparation for the inevitable question. 

 There was always the option of...not answering. Of saying it was private. There was the option for answering with that. Perhaps his father had been right after all.

 It was better for him to be silent.

 Especially his...if  the  angel were to ever see him bare chested. Those wonderful green eyes losing their light to the horrible sight. Janus conjured the image of Patton’s carefree face curled with disgust at the sight of him. He didn’t think of what he’d do in that scenario, and he wasn’t going to entertain that line of thinking further. 

 He grabbed his bag and towel. His heart was pounding as the worried thoughts fluttered through his mind like eagles diving towards their prey. He  felt his heartbeat in his ears. The halls seemed to grow never ending as he made his way through the groups of students also just waking up. He felt like everyone was already staring at him. Gazes of disgust were surely being thrown against his back as he walked past. If it weren’t for the tags scratching his neck, he’d think he was already naked. 

 Finally, as if the walk was five years instead of ten minutes, he made it outside the doors to the showers. He steeled himself, put on his brave mask, and walked in. 

 He nearly ran into a shirtless Roman. 

 “Woah, hey there Janus!” Roman greeted enthusiastically. His strawberry blond hair was dripping wet, which was a compliment to his wide grin. He seemed a little too chipper for that early in the morning. How was this man with someone like Virgil?

 “Hi,” Janus replied lamely. “Um…” 

 Roman was smarter than he looked, it seemed to Janus, because his face morphed into one of sympathy. His eyebrows scrunched together as he looked down at Janus. It was...unnerving.

  The pair scooted out of the way as another person came in. 

 “You’ve never used one of these before, huh?” Roman’s voice was quiet, and he held that damn oversweet sympathy in his eyes. What had Patton said to him?

 Janus just shook his head. He felt sick with himself, being so obviously out of his element, and the fact that Roman was being so kind about it made it even more of a slap to the face. Still, he stuck with the shy approach because defensiveness would not be helpful to him. Roman was probably trying to be kind.

 “Well, it’s not as scary as it seems. You hang your towel and bag on the hook right next to the door inside your stall, do your thing, and get out to change your clothes in the changing stalls if you don’t want to do it on the shower bench.” Roman winked at Janus, “Unless you forget your shirt like I did.” 

 “It looks like they’re all in use…” Janus commented, feeling very aware of the time ticking by. What if he was late to his first class? What if he couldn’t do this after all? How much time had passed?

 “Patton’s almost done I think, you can use that one after he’s done I’m sure.” Roman eyed Janus, his ocean blue eyes must have noticed more than Janus was choosing to show, because he offered to stay until a stall became available. 

 It was infuriating, on some level, to have people suddenly care about him. It was a blatant reminder that he was a fake. He wasn’t worth the attention. The only reason he was being treated nicely was because he had fooled Roman and the others that he was a likable person. 

 Then he had been rude to Patton. The angel with the loveable smile. His easy acceptance of Janus had been a shock, and he was met with dishonesty. Necessary little lies that Janus lived by. It was enough to affirm the belief that he wasn’t worth it. It was enough to make him want to confess it all to Patton-to keep him and the others away. 

 Janus denied the offer, but Roman stayed anyway. It was two minutes when the angel, that beautiful angel, walked out with a baby blue towel wrapped around his hips. His curly hair was a darker color from the wet, and barely touching his shoulders. The blue streak in his bangs was leaking some of it’s dye-Janus wondered if it would stain Patton’s skin.

 He was holding a black net bag that held his things.  His arms were thicker than Janus had realized, and it was obvious that Patton did some form of working out. He didn’t have a six pack, but his chest and abdomen were defined-with hints of softness where his hips and waist were. Janus refused to glance further, choosing to look back at the angel’s face again.

 Heat of attraction that he never felt before was at the edge of his consciousness. Blood made of desire made its way to his cheeks. He was sure that his heart had quickened its pace. The beauty, the magnificence, the light of this beautiful man’s aura caused Janus to feel grounded where he stood. 

 Janus’s mask crumbled. He knew he was ogling, but it was as if there was a halo of light in the mist around Patton as he made his way with his clothing bag to one of the changing stalls. The spell broke, and he was grateful Patton hadn’t noticed him. He let out a breath, and looked to see Roman grinning at him cheekily. 

 “Did you like the view?” Roman teased. He wasn’t being mean, of course. Roman didn’t seem the type to be malicious. 

 Janus’ annoyance with Roman slipped through as he rolled his eyes. He refused to acknowledge that he was still blushing. “Thank you for your help Roman. Have a good day.” 

 Janus passed as Patton walked out of the stall dressed in a blue polo shirt with khaki pants. His face was clear of the leaked dye, miraculously. His hair was starting to curl again. He was wearing his glasses, framing his face perfectly. He looked like a baseball dad more than a college student. His hair was still wet, but shaggier from the towel. His face brightened when he caught Janus’ arm.

 “Hi Janus,” he smiled, “Hope you have a good day. Good luck!” 

 Janus held onto that phrase. His arm was caught in tingles from the brief gesture of affection. He hadn’t even flinched! Even after he had acted rude the other night, Patton was still nice to him. Maybe the care the angel had for the stranger was real after all. Or maybe he was just nice to everyone. Either way, Janus felt a spark of what could be considered genuine joy. 

 “Darn it Roman, where is your shirt?” he heard Patton chastise his roommate. Roman naturally laughed off the question

 Janus giggled to himself, and braved his first shower with ease. As he made his way to class after, all he could think about was Patton telling him to have a good day. He hadn’t even had time to worry about how he looked in front of the angel. 

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TAGLIST: @omgsomeonesomewhereonearth , @deceits-left-glove ​ , @louistownsmyass

Let me know if you wanna be on the taglist for this story or any of my other ships!

[Masterpost of all my writings]

[zhonglishrine]

Between The Lines

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x Reader Word Counts: 3.5k Note: Dedication to @yokelish​ -senpai uwu <3 **It’s about a girl who’s hopelessly in love— maybe not— with bandaged bastard. Why am I doing Dazai and not my beloved Gogol? because SENPAI that’s why, haha ily <3 and thank you so much for @soukokuwu​ for editing and proofread this one cringy fic! <3

You entered your apartment. You didn’t even bother to check the time, you just knew it was later than when you usually got home. The sun was setting; the sky was painted in beautiful different shades of gold, but all you saw were the dark clouds casting gloomy shadows. Dragging your feet, you closed the door. Did you even lock it? Not that you bothered to check. You were too tired to care or even think of it anymore. Every breath you took felt so heavy and you were exhausted from working long hours. Every day it was the same thing on repeat. Every move you made felt so strained and the bag you carried felt like a burden. You flung it on the floor and started undressing, strewing your clothes aside, and entered the bathroom.

You turned on the tap and let it slowly fill the bathtub, impatiently getting in even before it was full. You felt the cold water against your skin and watched the bubbles forming near the mouth of the tap. In contrast to the quiet surroundings, the thoughts in your mind were deafening, not allowing for a moment of relaxation. But you weren’t surprised. There was never a break given from such intrusive thoughts. How you wished you could get rid of them, how you wished it was as simple as dirt being washed away, but no matter what you did they stayed like a stubborn stain. Why did you have to feel this way? It only served to hurt you more inside. And the worst part is? You knew better, and yet there was nothing you could do about it. It felt like there were thorns wrapped around your heart, painfully digging into it each time you breathed. Ironically, what made you feel like dying, was also the one thing that reminded you that you were alive.

But it felt so lonely, so unfair, for you to be the only one feeling this way.

How you wished things were different from the start, but now you were the only one left to handle the consequences. You loved someone too hard, and now you were paying the price for your futile pursuits.

*****

With eyes as dark as the dead of the night, he drew you in from the first time you met; an irresistible attraction that pulled you in and eventually crushed you with its weight, leaving you behind in the rubble once it exploded. You thought you had met your ideal man at last. He was handsome, charming, funny.  Even though you didn’t know him long, you believed he could be the one. Or at least, you thought so.

He seemed to be interested in you at first, as though he was curious to know everything about you when you first joined the Armed Detective Agency. There had been a vacancy for a clerk, and you had gone for the interview the moment you saw the notice.

You were nervous even before the interview started. You couldn’t even get much sleep the night before. They had told you that the President was not in yet and brought you to see him instead. Your heart was pounding erratically by then. If this person was filling in for the President he must be important; he must have a vital role in the agency, one of high authority.

“So tell me, one interesting fact about yourself.” Dazai was the one who asked that.

Anxiously tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and biting your lips, you answered him with as much confidence as you could muster. You were saying it with a serious face, but all you got was Dazai laughing at your answer, wiping at fake tears. What? Did you say something funny? You were confused, unamused. But he merely welcomed you and said that you passed. Just like that, you became one of them.

It wasn’t easy to adjust to the work environment at first, but they were all nice and Dazai had been the one tasked to guide you, much to the disagreement of his partner. But it didn’t matter, because before you knew it, you were already attracted to him.

Dazai always wore bandages, covering his forearms, even his neck. Where else he had it on you didn’t know, but it definitely wasn’t normal. You wondered why he wore them at first, but you came to learn that he was a ‘suicidal maniac’, or so Kunikida called him that. You felt conflicted about it, given how comedic he made it seem. But you knew it had to be deeper than that. You could see it in his smiles, they felt empty. You could hear it in his laughs, they sounded hollow. It was all a mask; an illusion, something that he created to shield his true self; something to manipulate people into thinking that fake, comedic Dazai was the real Dazai. Though, if you were completely honest, you knew nothing about who he really was, nothing about his past, and even his present seemed murky. He never let anything personal about himself slip through his mouth. Dazai calculated everything - his steps, his speech, his body movements, even. You were beginning to realize that you would never be able to understand the brunette at all, but of one thing you were sure: you had fallen for him, and it was too late to turn back.

The line between admiration and infatuation is obscure. A simple, innocent feeling can turn into one of obsession and possession just like that. A simple, innocent feeling can turn into some sickening emotion that some people can’t handle logically. All rationality will dissolve and dissipate like froth in the vast ocean until there is no other choice but to drown oneself in the sea of madness. All because of love, that which makes us blind; a concept that distorts nearly all rationality. Without restrictions or self-control over it, the one madly in love would ultimately be driven to self-destruction and despair if their feelings go unreciprocated.

And it was unfortunate then, if you already knew of the consequences but yet you fell for the trap anyway. You were already in too deep - too deep in these feelings that held your heart hostage and suffocated you with its strong grip; these feelings that rendered you breathless as you struggled to pine for something you couldn’t have. It felt like it was draining the life out of you like it was sucking your soul dry. It felt like stretching out for a mirage of an oasis after an endless chase in a scorching desert, only to find that in the end, it was yet another hopeless endeavor.

Yet, no matter how futile it always seemed, you were too blinded by love to learn your lesson, continuing to be hopelessly in love with Dazai, letting him lead you on, time and time again. You clung on to every hope he held out to you, no matter how flimsy it was. You wanted him to look at you and you alone, to feel the same way you felt about him. Something told you it was the same as asking for the impossible, but you ignored that voice in your head each time. Just like how you ignored it when it told you the brutal truth - that Dazai was not yours and never would be. Still, it didn’t stop you from trying for him. Your heart longed for him, it prayed for his love each night before you slept. He was the only thing on your mind, etched into your heart and flowing in your bloodstream. You knew not what life would be without him. Your love for him consumed you; you would do anything for him, even if it meant pulling a knife against your throat to prove it.

Before you met him, you had nothing; no ambitions - you lived your monotonous life, just going with the flow. If you hadn’t gone out that day, if you hadn’t seen the poster about the job vacancy, you wouldn’t be where you are right now. You would probably just rot away at home with no job, no will to live, and no hope for tomorrow. Your life was entirely empty and meaningless. But the moment you met him, you found a reason; a purpose. He filled the void in your heart even when you thought it wasn’t possible. Dazai is completely the opposite one, and it’s funny how he was the one to give you a reason to live, when he couldn’t even find one himself; when he was the one with the hopeless and pessimistic outlook on life; when he was the one that wanted to die.

Dazai was the only one who saw through you. He was the only one who called you out on it - for being a people pleaser, for being pretentious and superficial with everyone. It was the first anyone had done that to you. It made you feel offended, exposed. Because it was true. What a hypocrite you were, hating that Dazai put up a comedic facade only to put up one of your own. You acted the way you thought people wanted you to, and you threw your real feelings away in the process. It was disgusting, really, how easily you were able to put on a smile and spout sugar-coated words just to appease other people’s egos. You felt a little quiver in your heart when Dazai pointed that out to you. Was it out of fear of being exposed? Or maybe, just maybe, it was because you finally met someone who understood you.

“Senpai, I love you.”

“I know~”

You could feel the butterflies in your stomach when Dazai responded to your little confession with a playful smirk. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling and blushing and feeling exactly like a high school girl giddily in love. It was fleeting happiness that you hadn’t felt for a long time. You only said such things when no one else was around like it was a sort of secret routine between you and him, and you wanted to keep it that way.

Just between the two of you.

It wasn’t wrong to hope, right?

*****

You always looked forward to talking with him and found yourself searching for his figure whenever he wasn’t around. This was all part of your downfall. It was little things, like this little routine you had with him, and the feelings of hope you tied to him, that would ultimately cause it. You needed his constant attention, getting all clingy and possessive whenever someone else would try to get close to him. You texted him every single day to ask about his day, getting upset over the smallest things like not getting a reply or when you were ignored. It felt incomplete to you if you hadn’t heard or seen him for even a day. You’d always try to get a hold of his whereabouts and would constantly be worried about his absence. You got attached way too much and got too emotionally dependent on him, and you fooled yourself into thinking it was all out of love.

You fell for Dazai too hard, and it wasn’t something you could easily recover from. Seeing him was like having a fever dream. He was all you could think about, and what you centered your life around. Every aspect of him and his life piqued your interest. You even fantasized about a life with him, to be together with him, physically, emotionally. It slowly turned into an obsession, and you weren’t totally dense. You knew how unhealthy it was.

You were no Snow White and he was no Prince Charming, but if given a choice, you’d still consume the poisonous apple and risk your own life if it meant he would save you and love you for the rest of his life. You’d do anything to prove that you loved him. Even if it meant gouging your own heart out and carving his name on it, even if you had to bleed out and let your bones turn to ash, or even if you had to be buried alive. You would do it. But despite all you would do, all you would get was his signature head-pat, as if he didn’t take you seriously and never would. As if you didn’t know already, he would never love you back, or do as much as you would for him. You thought you were fine with it, content to be in this position, with being just his friend, but you weren’t.

How could you be fine when you felt anger just seeing him talk to someone else? How could you be fine when you felt the anger boiling up as he was flirting with other people? How could you be fine when he gave his attention so freely to anyone else but not you? It drove you to the brink of madness and frustrated you to no end because it was as if he did it intentionally, knowing the fact that you would be jealous. And the fact that you couldn’t do anything about it but accept it left you exasperated. It almost drives you crazy. But you were still sane enough to control your impulsive thoughts. Or else, you were tempted to get rid of anyone who tried to get in your way. He was like a poisonous drug, consume too much and you would drown yourself in its toxins, losing yourself in the process. But there was no one else to blame. After all, it was your decision to love him despite all the red lights you saw; the warnings other people gave you.

How silly of you, to turn a deaf ear to their words. You thought you knew better but how wrong you were. You couldn’t see it yourself - how you started losing your mind the closer you got to Dazai Osamu. You didn’t see how your friends started to be concerned about your well-being, a consequence of always putting Dazai first. And it’s always Dazai this and Dazai that - he was all you could talk and think about. It started as a crush at first, but now it just became overbearing. And you know you were being selfish for wanting him all to yourself.

Dazai was the prime example of how you wouldn’t always get what you wanted in life. It was nice to be observed by him, and he himself was endearing to watch, but trying to embrace him was like trying to embrace mist, it would just slip out of your grasp, and never be within your reach. Chasing him was like running in circles, and it was as though something kept tripping you, making you fall over and over again, but you were too stubborn to give up. Dazai always seemed close to you, almost within an arm’s reach - but yet he appeared so far. It was like a distance you would never be able to close. But then again, the distance between you and him never existed. Because you never had a chance with him in the first place. It was all but a fragment of your imagination.

But still, you continued with your routine.

“I love you, senpai.”

And he always said the same thing, “I know.”

But did he really? It wasn’t as throwing it around for you. He may be used to it, but you weren’t. How could you even begin to explain how much he meant to you? He already had your heart, it already belonged to him, and he could crush it anytime he so pleased, and yet he didn’t. He did something much worse. He did nothing. It was like he didn’t care, like it never mattered at all to him, no matter how many times you confessed. His answer was always the same. Maybe if you put more feelings into it - would he finally understand? Would he finally stop taking it so lightly? You were past the point of being embarrassed. You didn’t bother to hide your feelings anymore. You felt like you had to show more, just to get him to understand. After all, why wouldn’t he say anything else? It felt like a hopeless desire, but still, you wished for it anyway. For anything but that same, mundane ‘I know’. You wanted to cross that imaginary line that separated your heart from his, but the barrier always stood strong and it’s impossible to breach.

He wouldn’t let you in no matter how hard you tried. And you were slowly losing your mind and you couldn’t take it anymore. You wanted - needed - him to know. You were desperate but the words you want to say always stuck in your throat each time you tried to bring it out. You don’t want to make him overwhelmed, in fear of losing what you have now. Even if it just one side, you can’t help it, you can’t stop it no matter how hard you tried. It’s easier said than done. Your friends think it was better for you to let him go, that you don’t deserve to hurt yourself and deserved better. They told you to wake up from this fever dream and move on. But you know, even if you try, you will always come back for him. Again and again. No matter how he appeared to be with you, or what persona he created, he is still the same person. The one that you were in love. And it has taken deep root in your heart now.

“Senpai… I’m in love with you.”

Hopelessly. Helplessly. I’m drowning in it. I can’t live without you, do you know that? I would do anything for your sake. You are my life, you are my love. You are my pain and my relief. You are everything to me. Even if we don’t have any significant relationship, I still can’t afford to stay away from you for even a moment. I live for you every day, my time and heart are devoted only to you. No moment is ever complete without you. Your name is etched into each breath of mine. I have lived only for you and I am prepared to die for you. Because it is you. Only you. I have loved you so much. And I will continue to love you dearly. You are all that I want. And it’s not solely due to my obsession that I’ve come this far. I genuinely feel for you. You are the only one who can make me feel this way. I love you. I love you. I love you. I really do. And it hurts. It hurts. It hurts. Because I can't find it in myself to express all of this to you.

His expression subtly changed. He wasn’t surprised by what you said, no. Dazai knew of your feelings, but hearing it with such a resolution from you was a different thing. Your love was there. It was evident in your eyes as you kept looking at him, unwavering. Perhaps, he could just say he didn’t care for it and one day it might disappear. Everything was fleeting after all, even love. But would your feelings go away so easily?

“That’s unfortunate, for you…”

“I know,” you replied, wincing at the familiar sound of his signature words coming from your mouth. Even if he didn’t point it out, you knew it already. You already knew it from the start.

“I am so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“Isn't that a thing people say in unfortunate situations?” He chuckled at his own nonchalant response, hoping to keep the conversion light. But you could say that it just hurt you instead. Like a needle is pricking your heart when you heard his response. 

“Well, that's true. But saying sorry would only make me look pathetic here. Not like I wasn't one already,” you said, an air of self-deprecation surrounding you. How unfortunate, indeed, for you, though you had accepted that fact a long time ago. You could just laugh at how stupid this all was and cry at its sheer ridiculousness. But now it was nearly impossible for you to act like you were fine anymore. You tried to act tough but really, you were falling apart inside. He tore you piece by piece and yet he wasn’t even aware of that. 

“I’m sorry.” Again, he apologized. He sounded more sincere this time. Was it truly genuine, or was this another lie coming out of his facade? Frankly, it didn’t matter at this point anymore.

Dazai closed the distance between you two, reaching out his hand to give you his signature head-pat. He ruffled your hair and you could feel the warmth radiating from him. It was so gentle and cruel at the same time. He sounded so sincere, apologizing for it too. He didn’t turn you down completely but instead accepted your feelings silently, without returning it back. Such a cruel way to torment you further. But you knew it already, you knew the consequence of your decision from the start. However, you still kept clinging on to him as if he was the only support you had as you floated out in the open sea, but yet was also the reason why you might drown in the first place. It suffocate you and you can’t breathe. It hurt so much. But falling for him was something you would never regret even if what awaited at the end was just a void that would envelop you. Even so, you aren’t afraid of drowning in it anymore if you could keep this feeling you had for him. Even if it resulted in hurting you. It was fine. If it was the only way you could love him.

And as repetitive as it seemed now, you would still say it no matter how many times it will take for him to truly understand it.

“Senpai, thank you… I love you.”

“I know.” 

And you would keep it that way until your feelings slowly cease to exist, much like a dying star. It burned brightly in the beginning and eventually will fade away, disappearing back into nothingness.

[thereluctantinquisitor]

Another Year

OKAY so it is @frenchy-and-the-sea’s birthday and I am HERE with a terrible gift that is just... okay, listen. LISTEN. I had feelings and I just wrote them down and if it is wildly out of character please just pretend it is a really weird AU! 

Aaaanyway, Alex and Tahir belong to the wonderful Frenchy and live in her amazing original work, Seven Cities. If you haven’t already, join me in this glorious rabbit hole and come fall in love with all her characters!

Happy Birthday Frenchy <3

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

If someone had told a young Alex that her life would be shaped like a cradle of wood, set adrift over the ocean chasing fairytales, she would have laughed them out of the room and told them not to bother coming back. Hell, sometimes she felt like laughing herself out of the room when she paused long enough to think about what they were doing. Seven cities. Sitting cross-legged by the Ranger’s bow, her head resting against one of the railing posts, those two words alone were enough to stir something deep and quiet in her chest. It was hard, not to long for answers to unasked questions. Particularly when they had been planted in your head by someone else. Some days, that meeting with Jon, and all the things that followed, felt like a dream. A story that had happened to someone else, a long time ago, that she just happened to overhear at a pub in some piss-soaked harbour town. A story full to the brim of adventure and triumph. Fuller still of mess and mistakes.

“Another year, huh?”

Alex huffed, not bothering to pull her eyes from the waves. “Not sure what you mean. Not sure I care to know, either.”

Of course, she knew exactly what he meant. Maybe at another time, in another place, Tahir might have laughed at her almost dramatic sullenness. But not this time. Instead, he just hovered for a while, before finally lowering himself down beside her with a soft grunt. Exhaling, he tipped his head back. Dark circles framed his eyes, same as hers. There had been some long days, of late, and even longer nights. They wore them about as well as could be expected. “You know, after all this time, I thought you’d soften up to people wanting to celebrate your birthday.” His gaze flicked down, and Alex’s averted just as fast. “It’s a good thing, lad. Means you’ve eked out another year in this mad place. And there’s no one alive who can take that from you.”

“If you’re feeling like waxing poetic, Tahir, there are better audiences for it.”

“Ah, well, Adelina is asleep.”

“Try Duchess.”

The pair exchanged a flat look, like siblings poised to push each other’s buttons. Normally, Alex’s glower was a thing of legend, but this time she felt the corners of her lips twitch traitorously and had to break the contest, masking it by casting her attention back out over the water with a huff. Rather than reveling in his victory, Tahir just allowed a faint smile to spread freely across his face. He was a spot of brightness in the inky dark. Somehow, when she needed him to be, he always was.

The silence lingered until she broke it. “I don’t make a fuss or demand a song and dance because I don’t care about it, Tahir.” Alex wasn’t sure why she started speaking. Normally those kinds of words had to be pried from her like a coin from a miser. “So unless you’ve been spending your lonesome evenings knitting a cape from old hemp sacks and sail rope, best to just treat it the same as any other day.”

There was a pause. “Well,” Tahir began slowly, “I’m not sure about the knitting, but if I’d known you wanted a cape made out of old hemp and---”

He broke off with a surprised grunt as the heel of Alex’s boot connected solidly with his thigh, then quickly caught her foot in one large hand. He raised it slightly, as if to say don’t make me confiscate this, then set it back down on the wooden deck at a pointedly safe distance. “In seriousness,” he continued, one eye still watching for any further signs of attack, “have a drink, at least. Even if it’s just with me or Adelina. Celebrate a little.”

Alex arched a brow. “That an order?”

“It’s a suggestion, Alex. From a friend.”

“Yeah, well…” Alex reached up and ran a hand through her hair. Or at least, she tried it, tangled as it was from the salt and wind. “Consider your friendly suggestion noted. I just…” Her arm suddenly felt heavy. Too heavy. She let it fall to her lap like an anchor to the seafloor. “I just don’t feel in a celebrating mood. Not of late. It’s… there’s so much to do, Tahir.”

“Like what?”

“I…” Alex hesitated. There were things to be done. Of course there were things to be done! There was always something to finish, or begin, or re-do because some half-asleep idiot fucked it up the first time. They were all tired. All drained dry. That meant something was leaking – something that needed to be fixed. Something she needed to fix.

Yet, when asked what that thing was, she found herself at a loss.

Tahir shifted his weight, boot scraping over the deck as he bent his knee and propped his elbow on it. “Sometimes, we have bad weeks. All of us, together, on this ship.” He was looking at her, waiting for her to meet his gaze. When she didn’t, he continued anyway. “None of us blame you for it, Alex. We’ll blame the gods, or the weather, or a bad hand at a tarot reader’s tent well before we’d ever blame you. This is just… how things go sometimes. We can’t change it any more than we can change the tide.”

Finally, Alex turned to face him. “So… what? I’m just meant to accept that sometimes everything goes to shit for no reason? Make my peace with it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because punishing yourself doesn’t make it any easier.”

Alex opened her mouth – to retort? Argue? She wasn’t sure. But once again, she found the will to fight had abandoned her. Or maybe, just maybe, Tahir had a point, and she’d just rather cast herself into the sea than admit it right now. 

Instead, Alex just grunted; a quiet kind of acquiescence, open enough to interpretation that she could stomach it well enough. Tahir, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, accepted it with wordless grace. They sat in silence for a little while longer, side by side, lulled by the creaking of the ship. Then, there was a rustle of fabric as Tahir reached into his side-pouch and extended a further sign of peace.

A flask.

“What’ve you got in there today?” Alex took the flask and set to unscrewing it with half-numb fingers. The night-chill was starting to rise already. She convinced herself the drink was just to chase it away. Nothing more.

Tahir relaxed back against the rail, stretching his legs out again. “Something you’ll like.”

Frowning, Alex eyed him warily as she slowly raised the flask to her nose. The first inhale was short – a test, of sorts. When she didn’t keel over from a poorly conceived prank by one of the twins, she relaxed and allowed herself a deeper breath. What met her was something rich, lightly spiced, and possessing just enough edge to promise a good, trickling warmth that curled its way to her fingertips. Even without tasting it, she knew one thing for certain: it was good. “When did you even get this?” she asked a little accusingly. Last time they were at port, he’d insisted on staying with the ship while the others enjoyed a well-earned shore leave. 

Apparently not.

As though reading her mind, Tahir quickly raised his hands. “Easy there, Captain. I convinced Davin to take my place for a bit. The Ranger was in good hands.” He hesitated. “Well, reasonably good hands. He was still sober enough to stand.”

It was easier to laugh, somehow, with that flask in her hand. Not just because its contents sent a comforting warmth straight to her stomach, but because it was something she hadn’t known she needed. It was a moment with someone she trusted above anyone else, sitting on the bow of her ship, letting sea and sail carry them towards a distant point of the compass.

Some leaks are small. Barely even noticeable, at first. But god, it feels good when someone takes the time to patch it.

“That good, huh?” Tahir asked eventually, after Alex had helped herself to a third hearty swig. Humming contently, she smirked and held out the flask.

“You tell me.” When Tahir raised his brows, Alex just rolled her eyes. “Listen - given you probably owe Dav a favour now – a thing no man alive would envy – you can at least partake in the spoils.”

Laughing, Tahir shrugged his large shoulders. “Well, when you put it that way, how could I say no?”

There it was again. That smile. The one that reminded Alex that she had her own. And she found it, then, as Tahir took the flask and allowed himself a long, deep swallow. Then another. Then another…

“Hey - don’t go emptying it!” There was a moment of frenzy, Alex grabbing for the flask, Tahir twisting away, keeping her at bay with a frantically extended elbow. Eventually, Alex managed to snatch it back and tipped it up, peering inside as though to measure the precise depth of his betrayal. “You rat bastard.”

But Tahir wasn’t listening. He was too busy laughing, one hand on the rail, hauling himself to his feet (and, more importantly, out of range). Once upright, he swayed slightly, then stretched his back. Cat-like. Content in his flagrant hubris.

 Duchess would be proud.

 “Come on, then,” he said. “Up you get.”

“What?” Alex was still fuming, trying to fish out the last few boozy drops with her finger. Traitor. “Why the hell should I?”

Tahir just grinned. 

“Because the rest of the bottle is with Adelina, and you’ve kept her waiting long enough.”

[voidstilesplease]

Attractions

Demigod AU Ficlet [3]

Stiles

"Stiles?"

Stiles turns around to the source of the call. He finds himself facing the new Ares camper. The boy gives him a tentative but wide, slanted smile, stepping closer. Stiles is not going to lie; the excessive gushing he hears from the Aphrodite cabin about the guy are well-founded. But he's not going to say that out loud. He replies, "Hey,"

"Chiron said to look for you," the boy tells him, looking far brighter and good-natured than what Stiles anticipates from an Ares kid speaking to a child of Athena.

"Give me a sec, will you?" At the boy's nod, Stiles rushes inside the cabin to retrieve the materials he prepared for their brief session today. He assigns one of his half-siblings to take over the cabin clean-up while he's out. When he returns outside, the Ares boy is standing patiently, hands in his pockets, watching the flurry of activities inside.

"Your cabin looks like a library," the boy comments when Stiles is near enough to hear. He doesn't sound mocking and what he said isn't in particular insulting, but Stiles gets defensive all the same. From his time at camp, he gets this automatic response to the Ares bunch.

"And yours look like," he pauses, and they both turn to look at cabin five right across from Athena. Its blood-red paint job is giving Stiles goosebumps. Not to mention the stuffed boar's head on the doorway with soulless eyes that seem to be following everyone's movements, and the ugly barbed wires on the roof. It's an angry-looking cabin that's very fitting to its aggressive and violent occupants. "-a nightmare."

Stiles expects the boy to sneer, but he gets a different reaction. The new Ares kid laughs. "You think it looks bad outside? It's absolute chaos inside." The boy turns to him, smiling cheekily. "You should come and visit sometimes."

Stiles stops short and takes a moment to consider the boy. He's never made an Ares kid laugh before, at least not that isn't derisive. They all think Stiles is stuck up even when he was only new to the camp. Only Fred, the head counselor, tolerates him, and he only does so because Stiles handed his ass to him in capture-the-flag last summer. His grudging respect is because he got beat by a rookie. Typical. This boy, though, doesn't seem to be corrupted - yet. It's only been a few days. Stiles replies with a serious, "I will," the boy's face lights up in return, probably mistaking it as Stiles flirting back. So he adds, "When it's my turn for cabin inspection. I give decent scores."

The quick shooting up of his eyebrows means he doesn't quite believe that.

But Stiles does. Last summer, he gave them 1/5. It would have been zero, but Fred had made an effort to upturn the bunk beds back in their upright position and shove all strewn underwear inside a box. He only hopes those were burned after and not distributed back to their owners. Stiles is a saint, considering.

He moves them forward, tracing the steps to the Big House. They walk side-by-side in surprisingly companionable silence for a moment, then Stiles begins introduction. "So, as your official welcome wagon, albeit a few days late," Stiles spreads his arms in an all-encompassing gesture. "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood!"

The boy laughs a little and regards him with amusement. He looks pleasant, but it's disconcerting and just a tad suspicious. An Ares kid is not supposed to be a charmer, newcomer, or otherwise.

"My name is Stiles," he says, pausing in his tracks to politely offer his hand to the boy. "I'm Athena cabin's junior counselor."

The boy smiles and takes Stiles's hand in a firm grip. He mentally registers that the boy's hand is mildly calloused and only slightly bigger than his. And the boy's eyes are blue, like the sky and ocean on a fine day. 

"I'm Theo."

Theo is a nice name, too, his brain whispers kindly. Probably short for Theodore. Stiles knows another Theodore from his previous school. That Theodore is bland; this one is far from it. But he's not going to admit that out loud, either. 

Stiles clears his throat, breaking their contact. His mind runs on him sometimes (all the time); he hates when that happens. The last time it did, Stiles got humiliated by his crush in front of the others during combat training. What a fun memory. He really shouldn't be thinking about that right now. So he picks up his steps, and Theo follows dutifully, not losing the open expression.

"I'm supposed to give you a starter kit today: the camp's map, our camp brochure, and your study guide for our next sessions." Stiles holds up the book and papers on his other hand. "As much as I'd like to tour you around, we don't have that much time."

Stiles waves a hand to one of the Hermes kids, who's carrying a trunk-load of garbage for disposal. The boy smiles back brightly despite the strain on his face from the weight of the junk. Ever since day one, everyone from cabin eleven has been friendly to Stiles, most especially the head counselor, Kira. So, Stiles always makes a way to return their kindness.

He shifts back to Theo to find him observing the interaction with attention. It's not malicious, though, which still baffles Stiles. He didn't know there could be nice ones from his cabin. 

He continues as they near the Big House. "There's a meeting with Chiron and the cabins' head counselors in an hour. Haley, our head, went with Demeter and Dionysus' cabin leaders to Manhattan to deliver strawberries. You know, the camp's source of funds? You'll see that in the brochure," he says, raising the object in question. "I'll have to attend as a proxy."

They arrive at the porch, and Stiles motions for Theo to sit on a bench. He passes the materials to him, "I'll let you check these, and if you have questions, you can ask me."

Theo shuffles the papers absently before lifting his head, "I do."

Stiles is pretty sure he hasn't read a thing yet, but he gestures for him to proceed.

"How did you manage it?" He asks, a genuinely curious look on his face. "You're here for one summer, but you're already second-in-command."

Stiles searches his face and tone for ridicule. He doesn't find it, still suspects it, so he schools his expression to its neutral - not friendly, but also not dismissive. It's a sensible question, anyway. It's not every day that he gets one from an Ares child. "It's not all about tenure here at camp," he starts, gauging.

Theo leans forward to indicate he's listening.

Stiles takes a seat adjacent to his position. If this kid is civil to him, there's no reason not to act the same - even if Stiles still thinks their cabin is the worst. "The eldest or the longest camper automatically gets the head counselor post, and they assign their seconds. Usually, they pick from the next eldest campers, but they can also base on achievements disregarding age or length of stay."

Theo inclines his head, eyes level on Stiles. "Achievements?"

"Yes. Like winning in the camp's games, or successfully returning from a quest."

His eyes flash in thought, and it is with revere when he says, "And you did both."

Stiles blushes embarrassingly. He tries to mask it by ducking his head and rubbing at his cheeks. Stiles is suddenly self-conscious when he is usually gloating. Stiles never passes up an opportunity to rub it in an Ares kid's face how he's defeated them in capture-the-flag like he's born for it.

When Stiles looks up again, the boy is smirking at him, blue eyes darting around his face in a thorough examination. Stiles's guard kicks in again, feeling measured. 

He straightens in his perch, lifting his chin haughtily. "Yes," he makes sure that his tone is sharp. "I led my team to victory against yours. If you have any doubt to the legitimacy of that claim, you can remind Fred how he uselessly hung upside-down like a wet market chicken while I plucked the flag from his hands."

Stiles waits for the offended snarl and stream of profanities, but once again, he's knocked off his careful balance. Theo's face splits in a wide grin, and he laughs. "So, that's why he doesn't share details, the loser."

Stiles goggles, starting to feel annoyed by the unusual behavior. "Aren't you going to mock me and defend his honor?"

Theo snorts, "What honor?" He snickers for a few more and then puts his attention to the reading materials when he recovers.

Stiles finds the situation peculiar, so he stays quiet and allows Theo to read, answering when he has more questions and volunteering information that isn't in print.

Later, when they adjourn, he prepares to leave when Theo leans to tell him, "I'm not like my siblings. I don't hate clever people." He pauses, and with an easy grin, adds: "Fred might even be right. I think I'm attracted to one of them."

He doesn't wait for Stiles's reply - not that Stiles has one to that statement. He only stands there, taken aback, and red as a startled tomato.

Theo, finally displaying the familiar audacity comparable to his kins, winks. "I'll see you later, Stiles."

And well, it's impossible not to notice him everywhere now.

~•~

[1][2][companion]

[itstittycitybaby]

From the Ashes We Are Born (Part 7)

A/N: Finally we’ve made it to part 8! I apologize for the wait just been dealing with things but here we are! Thank you so much for your love and support throughout this series I really appreciate it.

You knew V was either going to be livid or disappointed at what was currently smothering you in the shadow gallery. There hadn’t been a discussion about pets in the gallery so technically you weren’t breaking the rules right? He was a mountain of a dog; he reached up to your hip and his hair shed everywhere. The moment you saw the dog spread across V’s beloved sofa you almost had a heart attack. Oh, you were in for it now. Hopefully V wouldn’t be too upset about the hair that littered the couch and the big friendly dog. What were you supposed to do anyway? The poor thing was wailing loud enough that you were afraid that chancellors men were going to find it. Unbeknownst to V, you figured out the latch on the bedroom window and snuck out into the night. The dog’s soft whines led you to him and that’s how you got a scrape on your arm once it tackled you and licked your face. He was intimidating considering his mountain of a size but he was a gentle giant. He reminded you of V. Scary as hell but a sweet angel underneath it all. The dog had a worn collar around his neck but no tag. Your fingers were numb from the cold streets of London and the rough material of the collar didn’t help either. “C’mon,” you cooed, setting a fast pace for the dog to follow. You’d be thoroughly fucked if a henchman caught you. Your shoes thumped underneath the cobblestone and the dog’s little click of the paws were the only thing you heard as you made your way back to the gallery.

You paced as you waited for your masked lover to come home. Nerves made you jittery as you moved around the kitchen. The dog watched you curiously, his head tilted as he watched you loose your mind. V would ask how you left the gallery in the first place. The bedroom window wouldn’t be able to open once V found out. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he glued the damn thing to keep you from leaving. “It’s dangerous out there darling,” he said one night, trying to convince him to let you out. It was snowing that night, the white puffs fell from the sky gracefully. You grumbled in reply much to V’s amusement. The dog’s tail wagged as he looked at you. He was smiling at you as you stood there debating the poor thing’s fate. Your masked boyfriend was kind and gentle. V’s voice was soft spoken unless he was excited about his next anarchist plans, or was cheerful that day. Surely he would have sympathy for a dog. Right?

“Where is my love?” Shit. The clock blinked 3:23. You almost dropped your favorite mug in your hands. The dog perked up as it heard V. His tail wagged happily and his big jaws grinned and his eyes twinkled. “In here,” you yelled, cursing softly at the voice crack. V’s footsteps hurried. Have you been hurt? “Darling?” Panicking, your fingers clutched the dog’s collar as you forced him behind you, right as V turned the corner. The fluttering in your heart never seemed to stop once you saw V. It had been a year since being with him and yet here you were still enraptured by the man. God, you felt like stupid teenager all over again. His head cocked to the side. You missed the man and his grinning mask. He’d been busy, staying out late and sleeping for a couple hours and then heading out. V’s head would sink like a scolded child when you saw the wounds he was trying to hide. “Is everything alright?” “Yea,” you replied a bit too cheerfully. Fuck, I’m a bad liar. V’s eyes narrowed a bit under the mask. His lips tugged into a small frown. Your blood ran cold as he raked his eyes over your figure. More importantly, what you were trying to shield from him. “Darling,” he started, “what did you do?” You grinned sheepishly, shuffling in front of the friend you had made. “U-uhhh,” you stammered. You knew you couldn’t hide anything from V, let alone a giant dog that was trying to wiggle it’s way from your grasp. 

“My little minx has brought something home,” he commented. “Uh..No.” V sighed. “Darling I can see the paws of a dog between your legs.” On cue, the dog wiggled from your grasp and pounced on V. A little yelp of surprise came from V as the dog stood on its hind legs and started attacking his mask with kisses. “Down,” V demanded between breaths, snapping his fingers. You giggled, once again catching V’s attention. Once the beast’s hunger had been slain (V’s words not yours) did V turn to you. The dog was oblivious to the obvious tension in the air. “Okay just hear me out,” you started, clasping your hands together and giving your boyfriend the best puppy eyes you could muster. V crossed his arms. He was amused at your efforts of keeping something so trivial as a beast from him. Let alone in his own home. “I heard him crying out there in the cold and I didn’t want him to get hurt! Look he’s so skinny that his ribs are showing V,” you exclaimed waving your arms around. V did admit he was admired by your stubbornness and you did look quite adorable looking so passionate. That was until it struck him. You left the shadow gallery. His clever little minx found a weak spot in the gallery. V was a little disappointed that you had left. His love knew the rules and how dangerous it was to leave without him by his darling’s side. “Darling, how exactly did you manage to get the dog?” 

Oh you were fucked. The question that you were waiting for. The grimace that pulled onto your face said it all. V sighed, his curtain of hair following the shakes of his head. “Show me.” Your head sunk low.  The dog licked your fingers wanting to be pet. Your heart hurt as you realized this would be the last time you pet the sweet thing. Giving his ears one last scratch you left the kitchen as V and the dog followed your lead.

V was impressed. Your efforts into saving just a dog on the cold harsh streets of London made him chuckle. More importantly, how you managed to squeeze you and the beast through the bedroom window. A huff of amusement left him once you showed him how you managed your great escape. The window was big enough for you to wiggle your way through. “I hope you do realize my love, the consequences of this.” A sad smile graced your lips. “I know V,” you muttered. You glanced at the sweet dog, grinning at the both of you who was oblivious to its fate. He sat between the both of you with his tongue dangling out of his mouth. “He is a charming one,” V said as he followed your gaze. You perked up a bit. Hope bubbled in your chest. Your eyes pleaded with his. V smiled underneath his mask. “Is there something you’d like to ask darling,” he asked smugly. Watching you squirm and be teased under his wavering gaze made him laugh. “C’mon V,” you whined, a pout gracing your lips. “You know what I want.” V cocked his head, “I’m afraid not my darling.” You huffed in frustration especially at the mock of innocence in his tone. “Use your words.” You felt your cheeks heat up a bit. Huffing, you mumbled, “canwepleasekeepthedog?” 

“Klaus,” V hissed. It had been a week since the beast had become a part of the household. Klaus was good for the most part, however V grumbled everytime he had to clean the hair from the couch. Klaus looked up from his spot on the bed. Next to him his darling slept peacefully blissfully unaware at the predicament V was in. The dog side eyed him and let out a huff. V stood there dumbfounded. Of all things he did not expect a dog to have an attitude. V grabbed the dog by the collar and gently shoved him off. He grumbled at the awful hair on his side of the bed. The sheets and blankets had just been cleaned and already they were dirty again. V looked at Klaus again who just smiled proudly and wagged his tail. He let out a sigh and pet him before he slipped into bed with his darling. 

It was noon when you woke up. V’s spot was empty and Klaus was nowhere to be found. The sight of hair on V’s side of the bed made you cackle. He would grumble about it during lunch you were sure of it. The thought made you snicker even harder. Trudging out of bed with a blanket wrapped around your body, you left the room. The crackle and the heat from the fireplace made you hurry. Winter had always been harsh in London but in the shadow gallery it was absolute hell. Once you reached the living room your heart warmed at the sight of your boyfriend and Klaus. V sat on the couch, book in hand, and Klaus stretched over his lap. You laughed. V closed his book and looked at you. “Good afternoon love,” he said. You grinned, “I see you and Klaus have been getting along well.” As if on cue Klaus let out a loud snore. “You could say that,” your boyfriend replied, “though he has a talent for leaving his hair around the place.” You rolled your eyes. “He’s a dog V.” The masked vigilante just huffed in retaliation. “Yet, my darling, you brought him home.” “Yes, my darling, but you were the one who named him,” you bantered. “Klaus is a charming name,” V replied. “I know honey,” you said, leaning over giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m gonna fix something to eat. Want anything?” “I’ll do it dove,” V replied, trying to get up from the couch. You rolled your eyes. You appreciated V’s sentiment, you really did, but V deserved to be pampered too. Klaus woke up and side eyed the masked man. You laughed as V struggled to gently push the dog off of him. Klaus was too heavy to move and stubbornly refused to do so. V sighed as the predicament got hair onto his clothes. “You’re a bit occupied V,” you giggled. He sighed, “It seems so my darling.” Giving your boyfriend one last kiss and a kiss to Klaus’ head you left the kitchen to prepare a meal for you and the one you truly loved.  

[suggiebabe]

A Whisker Away

Imagine (Part 5)

↳ “The line between human and animal starts to blur after a girl transforms herself into a cat.”

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki × Fem!Reader

Warning! NO quirks (this is an au), characters may seem ooc

Word Count: 1.4k

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5

A/n: This was made a collab with @bozowrites​ so check her out! We actually worked on this SUPER COLLABORATED LOL!!!! Like I would stop in the middle of a sentence, then she would continue it, then vise versa, ITS CRAZY IF U THINK ABT IT!!! 

L/N laid in Bakugou’s arms, a warm feeling spreading through her heart. It was strange being so close to someone who she used to only admire from afar. Now she was seeing a whole different side of him and feeling his calm heartbeat against her paw. She felt his breathing become calmer, and when she looked up at his face, he was asleep.  

Slowly, she removed herself from his embrace, deciding that now was the time she should probably go home. Though she’d rather stay there and remain in his warm embrace, she knew her dad would eventually find her missing from her room. She quietly snuck out of his room, through the window.  

“Did you tell him?” She heard a familiar voice came from a nearby vase. The suddenness of his words and form popping from the small vase scared her. “What? No, of course not!” 

“So, at this rate, you’re never going to tell him, you may as well stay a cat forever then... You’re closer to him this way anyway.” 

“No way! I can’t do anything for Bakugou if I’m a cat!” She yelled out at the larger cat. 

“You can’t help as a human either.” The mask seller grinned, knowing he was getting under her skin. It was all part of his plan... 

“That’s not...” 

“It’s not true?” He interrupted. She looked down in defeat, knowing he was probably right. “As a cat, you’ll be able to stay close to Bakugou! You’ll be able to observe him, sleep, have him feed you, sleep, poop, sleep! Isn’t that wonderful? Bakugou will be happy too-” “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” L/N yelled, shaking her head. Not wanting to hear any more of his words, she ran back to her house as fast as she could, turning back into a human in the process. 

When she got back to her room, she had this strange feeling that someone had been inside. Like, something was different in the atmosphere of her room. “Something doesn’t feel right. Was Ms. Kaoru in my room?”  

She lightly walked over to her living room, where she heard both of her parents conversing, trying to figure out where she went.  

Her shoes are still here... She must’ve gone out the window, she’s been sneaking out lately.” she leaned closer to the door, trying to listen some more. As she turned her head to put her ear up against the door, she noticed Kaoru’s cat sitting across the hallway staring at her. L/N swore this cat had something against her, because as soon as she noticed her, the cat began to meow loudly, then she pounced on L/N, making her fall on her butt. 

“Y/N?” She heard her stepmom call out to her. Slowly, she got up, glaring at the cat, and walked to the living room to face her parents. 

“What is it?” She asked, quietly closing the door behind her. “Did you go somewhere? I went into your room to see if you wanted to have tea together, but you weren’t there.” She could hear the worry in her stepmom's voice. “Oh... I was on the roof!” She lied straight through her teeth. “I just wanted to uh, to feel some air on my face is all! Well, I’m feeling pretty tired, goodnight guys!” She faked a yawn and quickly walked out of the room back to her own. “Goodnight...” Her parents said in unison, confused as to what their daughter could be up to. 

She sat at her desk looking at a blank piece of paper. She knew she what she wanted to tell Bakugou, but she didn’t know how to put it into words.  

“I don’t want empty words to protect myself. I’d rather have Bakugou’s scathing instead.” She shook her head as she read what she wrote down out loud. “That just doesn’t sound right...” Her hands found their way into her hair as she tugged on it in frustration. “Who needs Y/N L/N? Y/N Bakugou...  That sounds better.” 

The next morning, as L/N sat at her desk she let out a loud yawn, tired from staying up so late into the night. “Did you really stay up studying? That’s unlike you...” Jirou asked, looking over at her. “I was thinking about my life.” She said, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.  

“Hey, Bakugou!” Kirishima yelled out as he saw Bakugou enter the classroom. The blond just grunted in response and stomped to his seat. L/N had her eyes on him the entire time, silently whispering a “good morning” as he walked past her desk, to which he didn’t respond.  

It was weird to L/n. Bakugou could be this angry person at school, but at home, he showed small smiles and laughed. He was someone completely different at school and she could only wonder why. He’d never tell her of course. Why would he?  

Her eyes followed him, and once he sat down, she knew it was her time to strike. She stood up and marched over to his desk. When she reached him, she held out an envelope with his name on it. He looked up at her, his usual scowl turned to slight confusion. “The fuck is this?”  

“That’s a good question, Mr. Sparky! What exactly is this?” Monoma asked, that well-known smirk across his face. “Go away, Monoma.” She glared. Her heart was beating hard already, but the added tension from Monoma made things worse.  

“I don’t think I will. So, L/n, let us see.” L/n retracted the envelope. She didn’t need the whole class to see it, just Bakugou. Bakugou could only look between the two. He didn’t care, nor did he want to know what was in the envelope.  

Bakugou sat at his desk, a bored look on his face as he watched L/N and Monoma wrestle for the piece of paper. Once Monoma was able to shake her off, he ran to the front of the classroom and stood behind the podium so she couldn’t reach him. He grinned at the frustrated girl, and stuck out his tongue. After she seemed to accept the fact that she wouldn’t be able to reach him, she just stood there, her face painted with a rotten expression.  

“Now... let's see what's in this piece of trash.” He said as he started to tear into the envelope, L/N’s eyes widening. She didn’t think he would open the envelope! Her feet were frozen, the thought of her letter being read out loud caused her head to go blank.  

Monoma tore open the envelope and started to read her words out loud for everyone to hear, especially Bakugou.  

“Bakugou... You remind me of the sun on a warm summer's day! Words cannot describe the way I feel about you...” he read the letter dramatically. Once she heard the words coming out of his mouth, she came back to her senses and jumped towards him, trying to get her love note back. Seeing how upset Monoma was making L/N, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Jirou all also tried to catch him, running around the classroom.  

Though he hated to admit it, Bakugou felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach, but he still sat at his desk, not feeling guilty enough to do anything. Monoma once again ran to the front of the classroom, L/N trailing behind him. He raised it over his head making her jump up to try and get it. “Is this that embarrassing for you?” He grinned. “My feelings aren't for you to make fun of! Give it back!” She yelled at him, continuing to jump up, trying to reach it. Monoma narrowed his eyebrows, almost feeling a bit of remorse for the poor girl. Once he remembered his task, he looked over to Bakugou. 

“So, you gonna accept her confession boom boy?” He said, the grin on his face becoming wider. Bakugou stood up and marched over to the bully, snatching the paper away once he reached him. L/N looked at him, a bit of hope in her eyes, would he accept it? He had told her he admired her personality while she was a cat, would he accept her feelings?  

“Bakugou...” He looked at her, with what looked like a glare? “I-I just wanted to make you feel better, I’m just like you! I have a hard time saying how I feel too!” “Shut up idiot,” he said coldly, sending shivers up her spine, “You don’t know how I feel. Don’t you understand that this is just a distraction? Gosh... I hate people like you.” He said, turning back to his desk, the whole room silent. “Th-then if I were to tell you in person...” “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! I SAID I HATED YOU, NOW BUZZ OFF!” 

“You... hate me?”

Taglist: @katsushimaa​ @effmigentlywithachainsaw​ @sir-knight-slytherdor​

[marshmallow-phd]

The Anormic

Part of The Experiments Universe

Genre: Lucky One/Obsession AU

Pairing: Kris x Reader

Summary: You were everything he needed to feel human. But not even your presence could keep the nightmares away. The years had gone by and it seemed his dreams were all that was left of his trauma. When his past comes back and snatches you away, the human mask he’d worked so hard to create will be ripped away and he’ll stop at nothing to get you back.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3

**

Kris lifted the glass to his lips, letting the harsh alcohol slide down and sting the soft tissue of his throat. Emotional pop music blared from the worn out speakers hanging from various places on the walls. Bungie cables held the heavier boxes in place, wrapped tightly around the frame to keep them from crashing to the floor. He felt pathetic, sitting there on that bar stool, sipping on drinks that did nothing to cure him of his nightmares. Every time he closed his eyes and let his mind wander, he saw the doctors hovering over him, with their needles and toxins and tests. It seemed no matter how far he ran, he couldn’t escape the memories.

“Another one?” the pretty bartender offered. She smiled at him flirtatiously. A curtain of black hair hung from either side of her angular face, landing near the crooks of her elbows, and dark eyes shined under the low lighting. She probably saw his kind all the time. The burdened who thought they could fix whatever was broken in them with a strong drink. But this was only a band aide. His real medicine was elsewhere.

“No, thank you.” Kris pulled his wallet out of his pocket, threw down a bill, and stood up. “Keep the change.”

Disappointed, the bartender took the cash and rang it into the register.

It wasn’t hard to flag down a cab and give the driver his address. At this time of night, they flocked to the bar district, eager to pick up as many intoxicated passengers as they could before the parting ending for the night. Within fifteen minutes he was home. Outside, he looked up at the commonplace building, insignificant brick that blended in with the rest of the street. The apartment wasn’t anything fancy or luxurious, but it was enough. It was better than some. More than what he used to have.

All the lights were out when he stepped through the door. The only sound came from the air conditioner humming as it did its job. Tossing his keys down on the table, he shuffled his way through the dark until he made it to the bedroom. He closed the door as softly as he could before sitting on the edge of the bed and taking off his shoes. The world felt heavy on his shoulders. He was lost, feeling like he should be doing more with his life, but he didn’t know what it could be.

“Kris?”

Sighing, he turned to look over his shoulder.

You sat up and rubbed your eyes so they’d adjust to the darkness. The blankets fell down to your lap and exposed you to the cold given the camisole top you’d warn to bed. Shuffling closer to him, you rested your chin on his shoulder, rubbing his arm comfortingly. “It’s late.”

“I know,” Kris sighed.

He wasn’t even sure why he stayed away, why he went on these excursions as if he’d find the answer to his life out there. As soon as he came back here to your arms, he felt better. Like a warm fire in the middle of a harsh winter, you comforted him, thawed what had once been left for dead. No matter what he did you were there for him to fall into. You made him smile when happiness felt out of reach and your touch grounded him. There was only one problem with this perfect life with you. You thought he was normal.

As far as you were concerned, he was an orphan who grew up in a home and then went out on his own. He wasn’t rich or stable or open, but you stayed around anyway. There were times you’d ask about his past, a detail or moment you were curious about. Kris had mastered the ability to dodge such questions or give a vague enough answer that it wouldn’t technically be a lie. So many times he thought about telling you the truth. About sitting you down and explaining how he wasn’t entirely human, about how his nightmares weren’t random or forgettable. But he could never do it. He was too afraid of losing you.

“Everything okay?” you asked softly.

Kris nodded, not trusting his voice. It didn’t matter. You still didn’t believe him. Perhaps that was your own superpower, the ability to hear a lie, even the silent kind. Shoving the blanket off your lap, you threw a leg over his lap so you were now facing each other, your fingers interlocked behind his neck.

“What’s going on? Please, tell me. I want to help.”

Kris sighed. He hated seeing you frown like that. “It’s nothing you can help with. Just… thoughts in my head.”

“What kind of thoughts?”

“Nothing bad,” he insisted. “I’ve just been thinking about… the orphanage. My past. Wondering where I’m supposed to be going. It seems all I can do is look back when I’m trying to go forward.”

“Well,” your frown morph into a small smile as you played with the hair at the nape of his neck, “I don’t know if I want you to go somewhere. I kind of like you here.”

That made him laugh, just once. “I wouldn’t go anywhere without you.”

“Good.” You pressed your lips to his, sealing that promise. Kris wrapped his arms around your waist and shifted so you were now lying back down on the bed. He hovered over you, taking in every feature he could, from the shape of your nose to the outline of your lips. The way your eyes were filled with so many words when you looked at him would be burned in his memory forever.

“I love you, (y/n),” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”

And with your soft kisses and warm touch, he found himself forgetting about his worries. Finding you after wandering for so long was the small light in his life. What good thing had he done to deserve you?

Whatever it was, he was thankful. Oh, so thankful.

**

The sun trickled in from between the blinds, oh-so kindly beaming on your face to pull you from the wonderful land of sleep. As your consciousness came to the surface, you groaned. Why must the morning always come? You like the night, the cover the darkness gave. It lingered on the feeling of anything could happen. When the morning came, the desired mystery ran for the shadows to bring back the average, the dull.

A hand instinctively reached out to the space beside you. Upon feeling the cold sheets, you opened your eyes and sat up. You frowned. Any normal morning, you would be the first one awake and struggling to coax Kris out of the bed to get started on the day. But today brought you the surprise of an empty bed. You worried that Kris hadn’t slept at all. Climbing out of bed and stealing one of his jackets to fend off the cold air, you shuffled out into the living room. The smell of breakfast filtered in through your nose.

“You’re… cooking?”

The giggles couldn’t be held back. You were too astonished. Of his many talents, putting together an edible meal wasn’t exactly one of them. Barely glancing over his shoulder at you, Kris said, “I wanted something specific today.”

“You could have just asked. I would have made it.”

“You looked like you needed the sleep.”

That was a lie. If anyone needed sleep, it was him. But you let him stick to that story – this time. The sudden urge to be close to him pulled you into the kitchen where you wrapped your arms around his torso and laid your head against his back. His skin was warm, the steady pulse of his heartbeat reminding you that he was indeed real and not simply a figment of your imagination, a perfect daydream made up to shine up your dull life. The day you met Kris hadn’t been the greatest of your life, but each day after… you called them your little miracles.

With you still attached to him like an overgrown child, he reached up and took two plates out of the cabinet. Filling them up with the mouthwatering (albeit slightly burnt) food, you finally let go and gave the poor guy room to move over to the table that doubled as your studying space. Kris started to move the small cardboard boxes that currently occupied the table, but one of the lids began to slip, you jumped in and took it to the living room. The last thing you needed right now was for him to see what that particular box contained.

“Everything alright?” Kris asked, confused at your slightly frantic manner.

“Yeah,” you slapped on a smile, playing the part of innocence. “These are just old cases for my research project. I’m supposed to be careful with them.”

Kris took you at your word. “How’s that coming?”

“Pretty good. I’m about halfway through it.”

School had never been easy for you. Over the years, you’d lost count over the amount of times you’d started and stopped, never sure of what direction you wanted to go in. You were jealous of the others on campus, so sure of what career they were going to pursue, what major they were focused on. You never had such direction. Since you were young, you’d always had an interest in law and seeking the truth, but you neither wanted to be a lawyer or a detective. It wasn’t until right before you met Kris almost two years ago that you figured it out from a TV show. One of the characters on the drama worked for a law firm, fact checking and tracking down leads that might help the client in court. After researching and learning that, in fact, such a job did exist, you’d realized you’d found your calling. A way to satisfy your constant curiosity and help those who might not be able to help themselves. Funny how the good things came to you almost all at once.

Shaking his head, Kris blew out a long breath from between his lips, scoffing at the end like a period to his wordless sentence. “I don’t know how you do it.”

You moved the last of the boxes, careful to pile the rest so the first wasn’t easily accessible. “Do what?”

“Everything. Your classes, your papers, the internship.”

You shrugged. “It’s all just to get me where I’m going. You could do it, too, if you wanted to.”

Kris shook his head again. “No, you’re the ambitious one in this relationship. You’ve always been smarter than me.”

Feeling mischievous, you walked over and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Oh, hun, you don’t make it that hard.” Big mistake. Kris gaped at you, clearly offended. Then he puffed himself up and you knew you were in for it. “No, no, I was just kidding! I’m sorry!” Too late. You ran from the kitchen, hurrying to get to the bedroom and shut the door, but you were too slow. Pick you up, Kris jumped onto the bed with you in his arms. You wiggled and fought to get out of his grip, but he was too strong so all you could was laugh. His own deep chuckle rumbled in your ear as he tortuously tickled your sides.

“Do you give?” he asked, pausing but still not letting go.

After regaining your breath, you pushed out a “Yes, I give!”

He kissed your lips. “Good. Now, come on. I don’t want to eat cold food.” You stuck your tongue out at him in response, but let him hold your hand as he pulled you to your feet and back to the table. Perhaps mornings weren’t so bad after all.

**

Kris was sore when he walked through the front entrance. It’d been a long day out at the farm he worked on and he was ready to relax the night away with you, but there was something he had to do first. He was back at the bar, but this time it wasn’t to drown his sorrows alone. Waiting at a high-top was a tanned skin, platinum blond glued to the phone in their hands.

“You’re going to ruin your eyes if you keep staring at it,” Kris teased as he sat down.

Tao scoffed. “If a bullet can’t kill us then I hardly doubt some blue light will hurt our eyes.” The punk was probably right. Modern concerns like that were hardly on their list of worries. Putting the phone off to the side, Tao narrowed his eyes. “Are you still not sleeping?”

“I was, a bit,” Kris corrected. “But lately… not so much.”

“Have you talked to (y/n) about it?”

Before he could answer, a waiter came over to check on the two of them. They ordered drinks and Tao threw in some sort of appetizer platter. Kris had hoped the conversation would naturally turn in another direction, but he was let down. Tao was not going to let his worry over his closest friend go.

“Have you said anything to her?”

“No, I haven’t.” He almost did this morning. While you sat across from him at the table, he could tell that you were holding back, wanting to question how he was up before you when most days he didn’t want to leave the covers. Even after being with you, feeling you breath evenly beside him, he couldn’t get his mind to turn off. He couldn’t relax. It felt as if his body was preparing for something – something bad. He opened his mouth several times to start that conversation, but other words came out instead. “Do you ever wonder if it’s really over?”

What he had expected was reassurance. For Tao to laugh it off and tell him to quit stressing over what didn’t matter. It had been years since they escaped, years since they ended it. Now, they could be like everyone else, at least on the surface. But that wasn’t what he received.

Tao frowned, his eyes lowering to the table between them. “I feel like something’s coming. I don’t know what, but… there might be a reason to be wondering that.”

Swallowing thickly, Kris replied, “Have you seen anything?”

“No,” Tao admitted. “I haven’t. But I can’t make the feeling go away.”

“Damn it!” Kris slammed his fist on the table with enough force to tip over the plastic cup of water that sat on the edge. Before it could tip over completely, everything around them froze. Only Tao and Kris were mobile as the former caught the glass while it hovered in the air and placed it back on the table. Time resumed once again. Kris raised an eyebrow. “You’re getting better at that.”

“I’ve been practicing,” Tao smirked. “You?”

“No. I don’t use that… gift, just in case I get caught.” Especially by you.

Tao rolled his eyes. “You’re going to have to tell her someday, you know that right? Stuff like this doesn’t stay a secret forever.”

“I can at least try.”

Seeing the lack of progress this conversation was having, Tao changed the subject. He filled Kris in on all the places he’d gone, his favorite being an island in the south pacific. Paradise, he called it over and over again. Kris filed that information away for later. Perhaps when you were done with the semester, he could take you there. The two of you could get away for a little while, pretend this city didn’t exist and simply be with each other.

 Normally when Kris came home you were either studying away in the living room with your textbooks and notes spread out all over the floor or you were cooking dinner with your favorite songs blaring from your phone’s small speaker on the counter. But he was greeted by neither scenario as he stepped through the door.

All was quiet in the apartment. Too quiet for you to be home. Thinking maybe he’d missed a call or text, he checked his phone, but there was nothing. Odd. You never did that. A cold sweat emerged from his very pores.

“(y/n)? (y/n)?”

No answer.

He flipped on the lights and fell to his knees.

The place was a disaster, signs of a fight around every corner. The bookcase was overturned, the glass coffee table that you were so proud of was smashed to pieces, and so much more was in utter chaos. His heart raced when he saw the blood. There were only small traces, but he still knew that you’d been hurt. Running through the rest of the apartment, he searched for any clue as to what had happened or who might have taken you. Just when he was about to dial the police, he saw it.

It was too perfectly placed for it to be an accident. Whether you were the one who left it or your kidnapper had put it there to taunt him, he wasn’t sure, but it gave him a place to start.

Lying on the floor of the bedroom was a piece of black cloth with ripped, frayed edges. The emblem stitched into the cloth was one he knew too well when he was undercover in EXO. It was the symbol for Regeneration Science, a red R & S intertwined in a sinister, almost snake-like way. Or maybe it was just Kris’ experience that made him see it in that light. Right now that didn’t matter. Right now, he needed to find out why they took you. Why, after all these years, were they coming after him again? They’d destroyed the research and files EXO had on all of them and Moo San was dead.

Fury pulse through Kris. The only danger he’d ever considered you to be in was from himself, not his past. It was supposed to be over.

Kris flipped. Fear was gone and in its place nothing but determination. Shoving the emblem into his pocket, he started making his way around the apartment. In a few spots around the bedroom, he’d hidden various weapons in places he knew you wouldn’t find. They were for emergencies. In the back of his mind, he must have known that this would happen. Tao was right, something bad had come. And now you were in the middle of it. His anger surging, he threw whatever clothes his hands landed on in a duffel bag, his wallet, a few toiletries, along with other necessities. As he made one last trip to the bathroom, something crinkled under his foot.

The cracks that formed in his heart were nearly audible as he crouched down and picked up the rounded piece of metal that had fallen on the floor. In the palm of his hand was the charm from the necklace he’d surprised you with on your one year anniversary. It was a small bird with wings that would never have been big enough to carry them through the air. Wrapping the charm in his fist, Kris closed his eyes and kissed his fingers. Then he snapped them back open.

They would regret this. They would regret coming after him, they would regret taking you away from him. If you were hurt in anyway, they would pay. He would make sure of it.

Throwing the bag over his shoulder, he flipped off the lights and left the apartment, refusing to come back until he was with you again.

Hold on, (y/n). I’m coming for you.

[nad-zeta]

Hello, could I use your talent again? I was thinking: How would lords from ikesen react to the quarantine because of pandemic like we have today? You can choose historic or modern settings, it's up to you!

Hey there, love! Thanx so much for the request! Hope ya enjoy it! 

Sidenote I don't how thing are in other countries so I'm writing this from the perspective of mine, hope that's okay! Let me know if you want me to do the rest of the warlords 

Modern AU: Warlords reacting to quarantine

Nobunaga

When the news breaks the two of you suit up to go to the shops like you are suiting up to go to battle, and sprint to the nearest store to buy all the candy you can.

Turns out the the only thing you bought was candy lol not one other single necessity ooops

Mitsuhide visits the two of you in a trench coat late one night and delivers you guys some necessities like gloves, masks, and sanitizers in the most shadiest way possible.

He is surprisingly well informed about the virus

Two of you aren’t too bothered by the happenings of the world, cause his whole world is in the small apartment *cough that would be you cough*

Probably powerful enough to buy the supermarket supply chain, and low key distributes food and essentials to the less fortunate during this time

The two of you are stocked up enough to not leave the house for a loooooong while, thanx to all your friends and fam

NETFLIX AND CHILL ^_~

Two of you don’t really watch the news but rather opt to watch movies snuggled up to each other.

Will probably live off of candy during the whole quarantine time

He turns his phone off cause Hideyoshi won't stop calling reminding him to stay safe and stop eating so much candy

Somewhere along the line I can see the two of you playing Strip Go, a past time favorite 😂

Spends the whole quarantine in each other’s arms playing video games, the two of you will probs conquer the virtual world by the end of the quarantine

Hideyoshi:

The two of you will be cuddled up together watching tv when you hear the news of the COVID-19

He low key freaks out, you tell him the two of you should go and stock up on supplies before the lockdown

Looks at you and smiles, “I have prepared for this moment my whole life.”

Walks to the grocery cupboard opens it and gestures to the bottom shelf

HOLY SHIT! Looks like he bought all the hand sanitizes in the shops

Leaves the news on in the background to stay informed about the new numbers and updates

Have you washed your hands? Are you wearing your mask? You better not leave this house young lady, can’t have you getting sick?

Spends hours on the internet getting more accurate information about the virus

This mother hen will spend hours and hours on the phone, calling and texting all your friends and family to make sure they are staying safe!

WHY THE HELL IS NOBUNAGA’S PHONE OFF!

Sneaks Mitsunari to you house cause he low key doesn’t trust this boy on his own

You just pull Hideyoshi to a big hug while kissing his cheek telling him to calm down, and that panic and social media are probs more dangerous than the virus itself.

The two of you do yoga in the morning to calm the nerves and stay healthy. Followed by the two of you sitting together while having a nice warm cup of tea with honey in the morning sun

Mitsuhide

Knows before anyone else there is going to be a quarantine before it happens

Has already fully stocked your apartment to last you for the whole year, never mind just a few months.

Does a crazy amount of research to make sure he is well informed about all the ins and outs

The night before the lockdown is due to start, he drives to Nobunaga and shadily hands him some essential supplies he forgot to buy.

Makes sure his little mouse doesn’t get panicked. Will watch murder mysteries all day with you.

The two of you will be nestled in each other’s arms under a fluffy blanket, while he gently rubs your back to keep the anxiety at bay

Will make his little mouse takes vitamins in the mornings to keep your immune system up!

Will TEASE you causing you to get angry and chase him around the apartment. This is how he makes sure his lil mouse gets in enough exercise! This will probs end in another form of exercise…. (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄  ahem

Will spend hours on the phone trying to get Hideyoshi to stop worrying about everyone

Will make your time in quarantine fun! Turn your apartment into a murder mystery for you to solve

Will let you put make-up on his face and play with his hair to turn him into a pretty princess

He will return the gesture by letting you fall asleep in his arms while soothing playing with your hair

Mitsunari

Lots of cuddles from Mitsunari to keep the nerves and anxiety at bay

Two of you will build Blanket forts to keep the two of you safe from the outside world

Will spend so much time cuddling up together while reading in you little blanket fort that you low key lose track of time

The two of you will probs avoid the negative vibes from the news and get most of your info from Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi!

Mitsunari will make sure to keep both of you healthy by making sure u guys take the multivitamins Ieyasu dropped off  

And also eat the yummo nutritious food that Masa kindly dropped off

The two of you would binge-watch all the Disney movies! Will probs sing and dance to all the songs, using the remote as a microphone

You guys never run out of fun activities to do!

Will learn how to paint and paint the most terrible portraits of each other but beam at each other at how terribly good they are and hang it up around your house regardless

The two of you spend most of your time sitting together in your reading nook, with your head on Mitsunari’s chest while he reads to you

Masamune

Makes the best most nutritious foods for his lass to ensure the both of you are healthy and well nourished

Will land up making enough food for an entire army

Will package the extra food and give it out to friends and fam to make sure they also stay heathy during this time- specifically the troublesome trio (Mitu’s+ Nobunaga)

The two of you will use humor to deal with the panic of it all, cause everyone knows laughter is the best medicine for every situation.

Will have meme making competition, where the loser has to give the winner a kiss

You convince masa to do your favorite workout with you from your favorite fitness YouTuber. This ends in both of you breaking out in laughter at how ridiculously the two of you look. You both will continue anyways cause the best way to stay healthy is to stay fit

Masa makes sure that every day in quarantine is a new fun adventure

Each day you guys will play a new game twister, risk, monopoly, 30 seconds, you name it the two of you will probably play it

Masamune will do the food runs for the two of you, he doesn’t want to risk exposing his precious kitten to the outside world will drop off his food packages on his food runs!

All and all you, and Masa will turn being in quarantine into one big adventure whether is ticking fighting each other, playing games or just spending quiet nights together in each other’s arms, it will be a good time

Ieyasu

The two of you live your lives basically social distanced from other people anyway, so its business as usual.

When the news breaks Ieyasu will rescue as many stray animals he can, to care for them during this time

Luckily the two of you live on a big plot filled with rescued animals so what’s a few more cats and dogs off the streets

The two of you keep fit by playing with all the animals on your farm

Ieyasu will make medicine packages, packed with multivitamins and flu fighters for you, and all your friends and family

During a food run Ieyasu will drop off his medicine packages

Will serve you herb tea and breakfast in bed to make sure you stay healthy and well

Even though he will never admit it he worries about Mitsunari, felt better when he heard that Hideyoshi had taken him in for the time being!

He will be as prickly as always, making contradictory comments as usual. One day after he makes a slightly cheeky comment, you smack him in the face with a pillow! OOOOh, this is war. The two of you engage in a full-blown pillow fight!

I can see the two of you sitting for hours on hours together building a 3000-piece puzzle

The two of you are often snuggled up together while Ieyasu gives you the sweetest little Eskimo kisses and cheek kisses.

Hope ya enjoyed it! and as always if its shit..... I'm sorry I haven't done many HC’S😞 >”<

Anyways hope everyone is staying safe and healthy!  Remember to wash your hands, not touch your face, and stay inside as much as you can! Sending all my love <3