#but its here now.... he's not singing about just any woman he's singing about.... her....

[dennisboobs]

I've decided the only way to try to make my brainrot even slightly coherent is by offering up a playlist that orders things chronologically, so. here it is. Dennis' life, as narrated by Trent Reznor and Mariqueen Maandig as Victoria

Incredibly rough/quick notes I took while putting this together, mostly in terms of timeline and mental state. I didn't bother for Pretty Hate Machine or Downward Spiral because they're way more straightforward to me, either taking place pre-show or skipping ahead a bit to correspond with seasons 5-9

Pretty Hate Machine (and Broken) sets the stage, with Dennis coming to terms with his trauma, and realizing that sex and drugs are going to be his coping strategies of choice after Klinsky's abuse also Sin and The Only Time are him sucking and fucking dudes this whole album is certified faggotry. Downward Spiral is in large part the DENNIS system and torturing women. Throwing himself headlong into automation until he runs almost completely on autopilot, becomes emotionless, hates the monster he's become, always trying to seize control through sex. Jealousy of the women that he fucks, both for what he perceives as an inherent power they hold over him thank you barbara and klinsky, but also because this is where Victoria first appears in the form of what Dennis perceives as his own sexual deviance.

[letorip]

kiss with a fist [iii]

"your slaps don't stick, your kicks don't hit, so we remain the same"

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: you can't help but feel like maybe you and tara are more than frenemies, and it culminates in a night where you finally share some truths with each other.

warnings: a somewhat traumatic dream sequence lmao, mentions of sex, kissing (almost), curse words, blood

word count: 5.8k

A/N: hope y'all like this one because i definitely liked writing it. definitely a whole lot more kissing than fisting.... wait a minute....

it's 5 am, my ass is grass. anyways, part 4 relatively soon because woo wee theres still so much to explore in this story i legitimately cant believe my idiot self said it'd be done in 2 parts originally

===+++===

===+++===

"(Y/n)," a voice calls to you, sing-song and sweet as your eyes fade to darkness. It's a gentle woman's whisper, but it manages to hit you like a truck, pulling you down from wherever you came from, and plopping you wherever you've arrived. Or, rather, wherever you've always been. "(Y/n), look, darlin'."

A gust of wind gently strokes over the plane of your cheek, and when you open your eyes, all you can see is rye. On one end, it reaches out towards a sharp cliff, overlooking a lake, with nothing but rocks and the water below. On the other, it runs far up the plains of land in front of you, stopping in front of the white house you know all too well, with its rickety porch and broken tire swing.

You take a few steps forward, as if ready to run right inside, and then before you know it, you're running. Like the world is about to end, like the house is burning down, like you'll never see the place ever again. Foot after foot, you dash towards it, hearing Alisha's piano flit through the front window for the first time in years, and the smell of a pie right along with it. "(Y/n)!" the voice calls again. "Dinner time, kid!"—

But your foot catches on a root, just like it did in your memory, and in an instant, you've fallen down into the rye, with a painful thud, right on your face. You let out a grunt, feeling the dirt on your new, white shirt. The one your mother never let you wear when you were playing outside.

And when you right yourself again, sitting up out of the field, the house isn't any closer than it was before. It sits, perfectly far away, only all that stuff is gone now, and the house looks about as dark as it did the day of Mitchie's funeral.

"(Y/n)!" an excited voice calls from behind you. "Wanna play tag?"

"(Y/n)'s too old for that, Mitchie," another voice chides, and you whip around like Calvin would actually be there to chide him like that. Like he used to. But he isn't. All you can see is the rye. It stands in thick stalks, reaching up to your knees in lush groupings, tall and abundant, strong and growing.

Another voice. "Read me a story?" It's soft and it's a little girl's and it's far away, and you get to your feet and spin in a circle, waiting for her to appear. It seemed to reverberate through your ears, washing through the pathways of your brain before seeping into your heart. It fills it up, and before you know it, you can feel yourself hastily searching for her.

"'Randa?" you called into the open field. "Miranda? You there?" but she continues on like she didn't hear you.

"Would you read me a story? Please?"

"I will Miranda, but where are you?" you called back, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the barrel of the hot sun.

"I'm gone, (Y/n). You're supposed to be gone too," she says back, with a sweet giggle. "Why aren't you gone with us?"

"I—" you stammer, whipping your head around the field in search of your siblings. "I don't—"

"Do you really think that's fair, (Y/n)?" Calvin asks.

"Why aren't you here, (Y/n)?" Miranda asks again, this time her voice wavering like she was about to cry. "Why aren't you in the rye with us?" Your hands came up to your head, trying to squeeze your eyes shut and block out the noises, but they seemed to reverberate into your skull.

"Mitchie was your fault, you know," Peter chides. "We would've never let that—"

"—Why did you get to stay, (Y/n)?" Came Tomas' voice. "We're supposed to be cursed, and you're supposed to be cursed too." He was always the quiet one, but now his voice had a sharp edge to it. One of jealousy. One of anger.

"Why didn't you catch me?" Mitchie asked. "If you just would've caught me..."

"Come play piano with me, I'll teach you," said Alisha, in her light, airy laugh.

"Why did it get to be you?" snarled Calvin. "And why are you getting closer to Tara? You want to curse her, too?"

"Stop—" you stammered, squeezing your eyes shut tighter.

"Wanna play hopscotch?" said Mitchie.

"Do you miss us, (Y/n)?" Alisha said, in between tears.

"Yes, of course— I—" you tried, but now the voices were filling up your head, threatening to spill over and knocking you to the ground. You curled up into a ball as your brain filled up. Words piling up on top of words, piling up on top of words, about to split you open. "STOP!" you yelled.

And everything went silent. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself still in the field, but your siblings' voices had gone entirely. Now it was just you, in the field, alone with the rustling of the wind and the rye, as it grazed gently against your legs. You hadn't remembered standing up, but you were now.

In a flash, you could see a shape, running through the rye in a line that was very visible from where you were. You recognised the dark hair, and the yellow jacket he always wore. With the realisation came the looming dread, and you realised with very little time left what this exactly was a memory of.

You took off running, faster than you had to the house, faster than you had ever run, and faster than you had run then, chasing after him as he took off towards the cliff-end of your rye field. "Mitchie!" you yelled, trying to be louder than the buzzing cicadas, but it seemed the moment you yelled, the cicadas got even louder. He was too short to see over the stalks, but you could see him go, running in odd shapes as he got nearer and nearer to the cliffs edge.

"Catch me if you can, (Y/n)!" he called back with a gleeful laugh.

"(Y/n), grab your brother," called your mother. She didn't seem too worried, and she hadn't been, then. No one had been, until it was too late.

"Mitchie! Stop!" you cried out, feeling tears already beginning to fall down your cheeks. "Mitchie!" you tried again.

"Come on, you've gotta be faster than that if you're gonna be it!” Mitchie called back. "Catch me! Get me! C'mon! I'm gonna make it hard for you to win, Duck."

"MITCHIE! PLEASE!" you screamed, but all he did was giggle. “STOP! DON’T GO!” But the moment you reached the end of the rye, he was gone over the edge, just he had been when you were 13, and there was an arm shaking you awake.

===+++===

"Oh my god, you're about the least peaceful sleeper I've literally ever seen," Tara laughed, grinning at you from over her textbook. She had it pulled into her lap from her side of the table and titled against the table edge, and spread out in front of you were her papers galore, with notes scribbled all over them in preparation for her upcoming exam.

Mindy sat next to her, playing a stupid game on her phone, while Ethan was also studying in his own textbook. He had stopped trying to avoid you as much, as had Chad. You and Tara "dating" seemed to offend them less and less the longer it went on.

"Uh," you mumbled, still feeling a little bit disoriented from the dream. It was like a dose of adrenaline had been shot directly into your heart, and you struggled to adjust to the calm, peaceful library that actually was around you. "Shut up," you grumbled, but not like you were actually upset by her teasing.

Tara watched you with her eyebrows raised. "You look tired."

You sat up in your chair, running a hand through your hair. There was a small layer of sweat on your forehead. "Aren't you never supposed to say that to someone? Pretty sure that's how you get someone at the bar to throw their drink in your face."

"It is," Ethan nodded. "I made that mistake once. I was trying to be sweet."

"Good thing I'm not seducing you, then," Tara shrugged. "You've seen me puke everywhere. Pretty sure that ruined my chances right-out, and yet you love me anyways."

You grinned, leaning back to stretch out your arms. It was meant to be a gentle teasing from Tara, but you had only gotten better and better at deflecting the longer you were around her. "You'd be surprised, actually. That was super pretty. That was the prettiest you've ever been." Mindy snorted next to Tara.

Tara glared at you, unappreciatively. "And you're pretty when you do not speak."

"I'm pretty all the time, Tara," you mockingly shook your head. "And you think I'm joking. Find yourself a girl who looks nice covered in sweat, with her hair going everywhere, and puking in the toilet. That's my girlfriend."

"You're such a dick," Tara scoffed, but you could tell part of her was stifling a laugh. It was funny to her too, and you both had laughed at it together for days, afterwards.

If anything, it had gotten easier and easier, to act like the both of you were actually dating. You weren't too sure why, maybe Tara had become less annoying, or you had become less annoyed by her, but you had definitely at least become a better actor. That's what it was, after all. "Oh, also," she continued.

"Yeah?"

"Someone tried to call your phone, while you were sleeping. I think it was your dad."

You frowned. "You didn't pick up, right?"

"No," Tara said, shaking her head. Then she paused. She dropped her voice to speak just to you, guarding the conversation from Mindy and Ethan. "Do you and him not get along?"

You shrugged. "Eh. He was probably just checking in. We have a fine relationship." It wasn't true but it was an easy lie, that rolled off the tongue like nothing. He had already called twice, that day, and you knew why.

"Seriously, though," she said with a frown, looking up from her book. "You look fucking horrifying—"

"—Thanks," you said, flatly.

"—I mean, even more than normal, it's crazy—"

"—Thanks," you repeated.

"—Have you not been sleeping, or something?"

You shrugged. "I mean, I'm an architecture major, and it's midterms... so not really."

"Hm."

"What?" you asked, propping your head up on your arm. "What's the 'hm' for?"

She shrugged, trying to turn back to her textbook. "Hm, nothing."

You furrowed your eyebrows down at her. "Well, obviously the 'hm' was something, Tara." Mindy shot you a look again.

"Or it was just a hm."

“Would you two shush,” she said to you, rolling her eyes. “You bicker like an old married couple.” But you both ignored her.

"It's never just a 'hm.'"

"I say hm all the time. It's literally just a hm."

"No, it means you've got something to say but don't want to say it."

She frowned at the accusation but was obviously even more displeased that you were correct. "I was gonna suggest we go to the OBK party tonight, but maybe you should just go home and sleep. I was trying to be nice.”

You shrugged. "I won't be doing either, actually." Tonight was not the night for parties. You were somewhat grateful, that you had a legitimate excuse to busy your time, or else you would've spent even longer thinking about the dream. "I have to do homework. My final is due tomorrow."

Tara furrowed her eyebrows at you. "Wait, but I thought classes ended today."

You shook your head. "Nope. I've still got some stuff do."

"Oh," Tara frowned.

"Not all of us can have easy majors," you teased, trying to lighten the mood away from what was clearly concern.

"Hey! You chose the stupid thing," Tara shot back. "Not my fault I chose something fun." She stood up, gathering her things into a neat stack. The time was nearing for her midterm exam, and you stood up with her, grabbing her textbook to be helpful.

"Thanks," she said, then she wandered over and held out her hand. You grabbed it in yours, lacing your fingers together, just like you had practiced together.

The library was a tall building on the far side of campus from where you lived. It was a trek and a half to get there, which is partially why you had been a little annoyed, when Tara said she needed to go there. It ended up being the perfect place to fall asleep in, with the quiet signs and only a few murmurs now and again, and though it had been a less than peaceful dream, it was more than you had been getting for the past few days.

"I don't see why you can't just go without me," you shrugged, adjusting her book in your hands. "Just tell Sam I'll meet you there. Besides, Chad and Mindy are going to the same party, right?"

"Yeah, but I what if they realise you're not actually there and mention it to Sam, or something? And, I'd have to go there alone, since Chad and Mindy are going early."

"They are?"

"Yeah. Helping with set up. Mindy literally just mentioned that. Shows how much you listen to her.” She shook her head in a mocking disappointment in you.

“I was asleep, jerk.”

“I know,” she said, grinning.

You looked down to her, where she walked next to you, gently swinging your joint hands back and forth. "It's not a far walk to OBK. You could probably make it there in five minutes. It's well-lit, and—"

Tara frowned, shaking her head adamantly. "Not alone. Not without you, no way. Sam would want to see you at the door to pick me up. She'd probably hate the idea of it."

"Fair enough," you shrugged. "Find a movie at home tonight, then. Relax, or something. I'd kill to be done with this stupid project."

"What are you even making?" Tara groaned, breaking your hands to shove hers into her pockets. Actually, it was your jacket, and therefore technically your pockets too, but she had taken a liking to it, after your date. You had been less than pleased, when she asked to borrow it, considering how much the jacket meant to you, but she insisted it was assisting her to keep up the act. You figured you could part with it, at least for a little while.

"Architecture," you said with a thick layer of sarcasm. Tara rolled her eyes at you. She nudged you, and you couldn't help but laugh as her elbow pointed into your side.

"Oh, you think you're funny, huh?"

"I'm hilarious."

"You wish..." she scoffed, shaking her head.

It was a beautiful day in autumn, and the weather was soon to leave the sigh of brown leaves and rainy days and move into whispery winds and icy pavement. You didn't mind winter, but you didn't like the chills, even though it was undoubtedly what gave summer's warmth a certain sweetness. Still, nothing burned like the cold.

You walked her all the way to the door of the exam hall, stopping out front to hand her the textbook you had been carrying. You went to speak, but the moment you tried to open your mouth, your phone started ringing. You grabbed it from your pocket, sighing and declining the call, while Tara stared at you.

"Is that your dad, again?"

"No," you said. "Telemarketer."

"Right..." she said, frowning. "You're a terrible liar."

"Am I?" you challenged. You were, it was true.

"Why don't you want to talk to him?"

“I just don’t.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m asking why, (Y/n).”

"Why don't you leave it alone?" you shot, in frustration. You could see Tara's eyes narrow at your tone, and you felt a bit bad. There was the occasional reflex still, to bite each other's heads off. You weren't sure what it was about her, but something about Tara Carpenter always seemed to rile you up inside, and do the same for her with you.

"Sorry," you said, looking down at your shoes. "I just don't want to talk about it."

"That doesn't mean you have to be an asshole," Tara glared.

"Right... I'm... sorry."

Tara sighed. "I guess I'll see you next week?" She asked.

You nodded. "There'll be plenty of time after this, I just need to get this thing done."

"Okay," she nodded, failing to hide her excitement. Tara seemed to really love parties, the more and more she went to, and you were somewhat glad you could help her find something she enjoyed. It was nice to see, not that you'd ever say that to her. Doing that would absolutely result in her teasing you again, or something even more annoying.

"Good luck on your test," you said.

"Good luck on your project, babe," she said, drawing the name out.

“Now who’s hilarious,” you said with an eye roll. Tara winked at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Me.”

===+++===

It seemed you were having no good luck on it whatsoever, actually. Laid out in front of you was all of your materials, in a messy pile of cut-out pieces and foam boards that were there, sure, but not likely to just jump together and put itself together on its own.

The clock had already ticked away to 12:33 in the morning, and your design was barely finalised to where you could get to work and finish quickly. All of the other students had left at a much more reasonable hour, and it left you standing at your table alone, quietly working to classical music in the empty modelling lab.

At this rate, you could be here for another two or three hours, and the project was due at eight. You were sluggish, slowly working through the plans you had set out days ago and working through the kinks.

Every few minutes, when you stopped for even a second, the dream seemed to rush back to the forefront of your brain. Your mother had been the one to call, that evening while you were eating a poor excuse of a dinner, and you had declined that call just like you had declined all the rest.

You were hunched over your work, probably unhealthily so, with your face buried in your iPad, hastily throwing out sketches of the various shapes. You were settling on a design that would have to do, heading for the woodcutter, when you heard a noise.

It resembled a door shutting, and you froze right where you were. "Greg?" you called out. There was no one else in the building except for you and Greg, at his usual security post, and you waited with bated breath for him to return your call.

But there was no response, and all you could hear was the sounds of classical music gently floating in the background. Usually, it set you at ease while you worked through whatever you were doing in the lab, but now all it did was raise your heart rate to match the increasing tempo. It was completely dark, except for the overhead light above you, which illuminated the table you were working at and a few of the stainless steel cabinets that held tools and supplies.

Then, off to the side, you heard a rolling. An odd, wooden rolling, slowly drifting towards you. On the ground was a pencil, gently pushed towards you, playfully rolling as if perfectly in front of your toes. You hopped to your feet. "Hello?" you called, squinting in the dim light, in case anyone else was there. "Is anyone there?" you called out again. "Greg?"

Now you could really feel the thumping of your heart. The modelling lab had always been creepy late at night, but this was a new level of unease. It was as if someone was watching you, playing with their food, and you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "Is someone there?" you said to the rest of the room.

"Hey!" said a voice, and you jumped what felt like five feet into the air.

"Fuck!" you shouted, spinning around and seeing Tara behind you. She jumped at your reaction, raising her hands up. In one of them was a tray with two coffees on it. “You scared me!”

"Woah, woah, are you okay?" she asked, face etched with concern. She walked towards you slowly, and you put your hands on the edge of the table, trying to calm yourself.

"Don't just sneak up on me like that, dude," you glared at her.

"I literally didn't, I fucking announced myself, loud as can be," Tara said, rolling her eyes at you. Then, it melded into concern. "How long have you been here?" she asked, looking around the place and its emptiness.

"Since I left you at your test," you shrugged. "How'd it go by the way?" Tara's eyebrows furrowed, ignoring your question instead for one of her own.

"Did you at least eat dinner, or something?"

"Yeah," you nodded.

"Good."

“Yeah…,” you trailed off, turning back to your work. “How did you know where I was?"

“I asked Chad. He’s still a little snippy with me about, well, thinking we're together. Tried to tell me that if anyone would know, it would be me, and I said, yeah, that’s true, but it’s only been three months, now.”

“Well,” you said, gesturing around to the lab. “This is the modelling lab.” You were a bit of a nerd about the whole place, showing it off like it was your cool superhero lair.

“I know,” Tara mocked. “I saw it on the giant sign above the front door.”

“Ha ha. Does Sam know that you’re here?” You asked, grabbing your pen and resuming your work while you continued to talk to Tara. She plopped herself down on the edge of the table, letting her feet swing.

She looked a bit sheepish at the question. “Uh… no.”

“You know she’ll kill me like she did that one time, if you’re not home when she wakes up,” you frowned, wandering over to the supplies and grabbing out a box cutter to help trim the pieces you needed.

Tara nodded. “I know. But I snuck out, so I’ll sneak back in.”

You turned back around to reply, maybe say something stupid, but you had to stop yourself from laughing, when you saw her legs hanging off the counter and not reaching the ground.

“What?” Tara asked, furrowing her eyebrows. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head and returning to the table. “…Dwarf.”

“Hey!” she said, smacking you on the arm. “I brought you coffee, don’t make me take it back.”

“That’s true,” you frowned, weighing your options. “Guess I can’t make fun of you; you brought me caffeine.”

“That’s more like it."

You worked in silence for a few minutes, feeling Tara watch your every movement. It was harder to work, under her scrutiny, but you were grateful that she was there. It wasn’t lonely in there, any more. A few months ago, you would’ve hated her guts for sitting around while you attempted to work. But not with Tara anymore. Not on that day.

“This might be an all-nighter,” you warned, sending her a small smile as you sliced a piece of foam in half and went to work to attach it to your board.

“Fine with me,” Tara shrugged. She just continued to watch you, in a calm silence. “Actually, I have beef with you,” she hummed.

You laughed, looking up while you secured the base with glue. “Why’s that, Tara?”

“You got that song, stuck in my head.”

“Which one?” You asked.

“The one you sang for me. I found it online.”

“Which one?” you teased, smiling again. Your face was tired and the smile certainly didn’t help, but you couldn’t help the newfound peace washing over you again. You had completely forgotten the weird happening from earlier.

“You know, don’t play dumb.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I really don’t know.”

“You literally do,” Tara scoffed.

“Sing a little bit. Refresh my memory.”

“Nuh uh,” she said, crossing her arms. “This is a trap.”

“It isn’t,” you insisted, sticking your pinky out to her. “Swear.”

She wrapped it in her own, rolling her eyes. She definitely knew it was, but she obliged anyway. “If you need a friend, don’t look to a strangerrr. You know in the end,” her voice broke on the low note like yours did, and you laughed while heat rose to her cheeks. “I’ll always be thereeee.”

“And when you’re in doubt,” you sang back to her, in between laughs. “And when you’re in dangerrr.” You both were tone deaf and the rendition was awful, but the mood in the lab was getting lighter and lighter the longer you were together.

“Take a look all around,” Tara sang, coming back in. “And I’ll be there.”

It was impossible not to laugh at how bad it was on both sides, and you grinned at her toothily, before turning back to your work. “Thank you for reminding me.”

“You’re welcome, idiot,” she teased, nudging you in the side again.

===+++===

You went back to working on your model, finishing the first floor in about an hour. You and Tara occasionally talked now and again, but mostly she just watched you while you worked. “Why are you doing this all tonight?” she asked.

“Uh…” you stuttered. “I didn’t have time the past couple weeks…cause of… well, you.”

She shot up to her feet, mouth dropping open. “Why the hell didn’t you say no to me?! I didn’t know you had all this to do.”

You shrugged. “I never mentioned it. Plus, you were having fun. I’m glad someone was enjoying themselves.”

“Oh…” she said, and it sounded small.

“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“…Nothing."

“It’s fine, Tar. Seriously.” She blinked at you.

“Tar?” she asked, looking amused.

You looked up from your work, feeling the change in the atmosphere. “What?”

“I don’t know, you’ve just never used the nickname for me, before.”

“Yeah, I guess not. Is it weird?”

“Well… no. I kind of like it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she agreed, nodding a little. “My mom was the one who gave me the nickname Tar. Haven’t spoken to her in a little while, though.”

“Do you still miss her?” you asked, glueing your second story onto the base successfully.

“Sometimes…” she trailed off, staring out at the pitch black night through the window that hung over your workspace. "She calls me once in a while."

"Do you answer?" you asked.

"No," she admitted. "It's usually about Woodsboro. I gave up on her a few months ago, but she still calls sometimes about the town."

"You never talk about it..." you comment, trailing off with a hand on the back of your neck. "You don't have to, if you don't want to." You leaned back against the table with a curiosity, watching her face move as she struggled to answer.

"Well... it's cause I don't want to that I don't talk about it. You know how people say that shit about manifesting happiness?" you nodded, knowing what she was talking about. "Well, I keep saying I'm fine, and I'm moving on, but it just keeps following me everywhere. It's like this chronic cough I can't shake. This constant thing. No matter how much I run, it's always there. People don't see me as anything but one of the survivors."

You swallowed, feeling her words hit you. "I know what you mean." Tara's eyes snapped down to yours, but when you didn't volunteer more information, she sighed.

You frowned, turning yourself back to your work and hunching over, so she wouldn’t see the heat rising to your cheeks. “I, uh… I listened to that song you said you liked, too.”

“You did?” she asked, lighting up at the mention of it.

“Yeah… added it to my playlist… so…”

“So…” Tara laughed, amused by your awkwardness. It was somehow less awkward when you hated each other. The fact you could tolerate each other now was unusual but not unpleasant, and you still found yourself grappling with how pretty Tara’s eyes looked in lamplight. "If I get a nickname, you absolutely have to have one too."

You scoffed. "That's not at all what that means."

"You had to have had one at some point."

"No, I haven't had one," you said.

"Liar!" Tara said with a giggle, pointing at you with her finger. "You're so bad at lying it's remarkable. Now spill. What is it?"

"I'm not lying!" you insisted, but now you were laughing and it was even less convincing.

"C'mon, promise I won't say it in public— unless it's really bad."

You stared at her for a moment, when she clasped her hands together in a begging plea.

"Please?"

"No," you shook your head.

"Please?"

"Nope."

"Pleaseeee?"

"Fine," you sighed. "My family, they used to call me Duck."

"Duck?" She asked, leaning back to look at you as if the nickname would re-contextualise your entire appearance. "Where'd that come from?"

"It's dumb. I used to wear this yellow raincoat when it was storming outside and these orange booties, so my little brother Mitchie saw me, when he was like five or six, and said I was a Duck. And so I was Duck."

She smiled at you, genuinely pleased with the explanation. "That's adorable. Where is Mitchie, tonight?"

You opened your mouth but shut it. Then, you opened it again. "Probably watching cartoons, or something. Back in Nebraska." (A/N: my ass genuinely did not know that was a U.S. state until right now)

You couldn't tell her that today was the day he had died, several years ago. That a year or two before that had happened, Calvin had gone, and a few months before that, Tomas and Alisha had passed too. That Peter had gotten sick, or that Miranda had gone missing before any of that mess had happened. That you were the only one left.

It was a bad lie, and probably one you would regret later, but it was one you ushered past, and Tara didn't seem to pick up on. From one cursed person to another, you figured it was probably best that you keep your own curse to yourself. It's part of what had made you hate Tara so much at first. She walked around knowing her days were likely numbered, so carefree and careless. And then there was you, you who was so careful in order to keep living.

But you couldn't resent her for that. It had melted away with seeing the Tara underneath. The real, beautiful Tara underneath.

"Duck is good, though. I'll bring it out when I want to embarrass you," Tara smiled, inching closer on the table.

"Yeah?" you grinned back at her, standing up to gently tap against the glue. It was set, and your model was finally finished at 4:42 in the morning. Tara leaned close, watching the glue with her own eyes, cheek almost up against yours in curiosity.

You finished the thing, looking over at her and her large, warm brown eyes, staring at the model you had made with so much curiosity and genuine interest. Tara hadn't lifted a finger to help, but you couldn't help but feel like it was partially hers.

You went to pull back but found your face turning towards hers, looking at each other for a long moment. Your eyes lingered on the slope of her nose, down to the curvature of her soft lips, turned up in the corners like Tara always did when she smiled. They looked so soft, and before you knew what was happening, you could feel Tara's hands coming up to the sides of your face, thumbs gently stroking against the skin there.

You couldn't breathe, feeling the warmth of the pads of her fingers on your face and the faint brush of her breath upon your nose. "Tara," you whispered. The pull was magnetic, and just as you were about to say to hell with it all, her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, and you both leapt apart from each other.

You wandered a few feet away, trying to seem busy while she answered it. You could feel Tara watching you while she spoke on the phone, so you did your best to hide the blush that was certainly spread wide across your cheeks.

This was the very girl you had spent the past several months hating. You suddenly felt dizzy, like the world would slip out from under your feet. Tara, the very same annoying girl who had pestered with you and bickered with you. The one who had so much more to her that what you had ever thought possible. The one who drew you in. The one in search of a hook up, for which you were only the decoy. You cleared your throat, whipping around when you heard Tara say "What?!"

"What's wrong?" you asked. "What's going on?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at you like she was about to cry. "They're questioning Sam again. They think Ghostface is back."

===+++===

DUN DUN DUNNNNNN anyways my ass is going to bed now. also i do not recommend anyone lie to someone they're interested in about who they are, ESPECIALLY an attempted murder victim

[jinwoosbabyboo]

"Safe and Sound.....Kinda" pt. 1

You went M.I.A and the LADS Men are stressed!

Zayne

MC: Lets get dinner when I get back from this three day mission Zayne: Im not sure whether you're brave or idiotic MC: What do you mean? Zayne: A hunter with ample heart issues agreeing to go on a three day excursion its risky MC: I'll be fine besides I have you to take care of me Dr. Zayne Zayne: How many of you are going on this mission MC: There's eight of us in total and I'm partnered with Tara

Two days have passed since Zayne spoke to you. Just one more day and he'll see your pretty face again. He smiled to himself "How childish" he mumbled to himself as his leg bounced with anticipation of seeing you soon. Just then his work phone rang "Dr. Zayne speaking"

"Dr. Zayne we need you in the ER stat" Yvonne's voice was much more stern compared to her soft easy going tone. This was serious. He stood quickly moving around his desk; throwing on his white coat not missing a beat as he made his way to the ER.

"Give me a rundown of the situation" Zayne said as Grayson jogged the catch up with him. "We have seven patients, two unconscious, and all severely injured, the hunters association told us they were on a mission that went wrong a frenzy of wanderers appeared through a rift"

Time seemed to slow as Zayne's mind swam through the possibilities that this could be for squadron. "Give me the names"

"Ceila 21, Terrance 24, Mico 21, Tara-"

"Tara? is MC among these patients?" If looks could turn someone to stone Grayson would be a statue in the courtyard by now. He quickly flipped through the pages on the clipboard searching for your name. "I don't see her name here"

"You said there were seven ... is someone missing?" Zayne asked as he could feel his blood pressure rising.

"Zayne!" Someone was calling his name. "Zayne!" The voice was coming from a pale woman with short brown hair. She had lacerations scattered across her body; her torn uniform hanging on by a thread. She was covered in bruises and was about to pass out from blood loss any minute. "You have to help her..."

"Help who?"

"MC ... she's still ... she's still fighting ....... alone .......... you have to find her" Time seemed to slow as reality set in. MC was alone with the wanderers who did this to her team. All the oxygen left Zayne's body in an instant.

"Dr. Zayne they're calling for you in the operating room" Yvonne yelled snapping Zayne out of his mental spiral. "Right, right tell them I'm on my way"

Your profile was flagged as M.I.A. after that day no one knew where you were

Three days.....

Five days.....

One week....

One week three days twenty seven minutes....

Time ticked by slowly tormenting Zayne. He couldn't sleep and his appetite was non existent. Dark shadows formed under his eyes from his late nights going out and searching for you. "Where did you go?" He dropped his head in his hands trying to control his emotions. Just then an unknown number flashed across his phone screen.

"Hello?"

???: Hello, this is Jenna I'm MCs Captain you are listed in her file as an emergency contact. I'm just calling to let you know that we found her, but she's unresponsive. She's being transported to Akso Hospital now......she has a faint pulse.

Zayne dropped his phone and booked it out the door heading straight for the hospital. You were battered, bruised, and bloody but you were breathing and that was enough for Zayne. You had to be put in a medically induced coma so he and the other doctors could stabilize you.

Zayne stayed by your side adjusting your pillows, checking you vitals, and settling into his nightly position sitting bedside with his head in your lap. Rubbing small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb as you lay there motionless. Slow steady breaths with nothing but the sound of the heart monitor melodically singing in the otherwise silent room. He'd wait as long as it would take for you to wake up. You have to wake up.

Rafayel

You were supposed to be back two days ago. Rafayel was losing his mind. "She has twelve hours to contact me before I burn the hunter association headquarters to the ground" he seethed through gritted teeth.

Thomas stood back as Rafayel's anger was radiating off him in waves. He could almost feel the heat of his evol burning his skin.

Next day...

"Are you even looking for her?" Rafayel yelled in Jennas face.

"You're not the only one worried about her sir she's M.I.A. with a damaged hunters watch we're having trouble getting a lock on her coordinates" Jenna smoothed her skirt as she stood from her desk to size up Rafayel. "If you have any suggestion I'm all ears"

"Find her or you can say goodbye to this entire organization"

"Is that a threat?" Jenna stood tall under Rafayel's searing gaze anyone else would have cowered away.

"Its a promise"

One week later...

There's a loud bang on the door of Rafayel's art studio. The sudden noise startled him. "Raf....." The softest voice came from the other side just as he could hear the person sliding down the door and the soft thud of them hitting the ground.

He rushed to the door recognizing your voice. "MC!" You fell backwards as he opened the door. He managed to catch you under you arms. "What happened? Where were you? Don't tell me this is your blood" A blood trail tracked the path you took he could tell you'd fell a few times just trying to get to the door. Blood was smeared down the door and was now slowly pooling underneath the two of you.

"I was so badass" You smiled as you looked up at his blurry face going in and out of focus. "This is not the time for jokes" Your eyelids were so heavy. You tried to respond, but your words came out slow and slurred. "I just....wanted.......to see...........you.....before I.........died" Your head fell back as you passed out from blood loss.

Rafayel scooped up your bloody body and rushed out the door trying not to slip. You were dead weight and your breaths were shallow he knew he didn't have any time to waste. He ran with you in his arms to the nearest hospital begging for help as he fell to his knees with you in his arms.

Like I said safe and sound....kinda.

Xavier & Sylus here ♡

[good-griief]

losing game pt. 1

HEYYYY i'm actually back with a lil smutty angsty ellie fic bc i needed to write for this woman... anyway here's part one its only a lil angsty i just wanted an excuse to write rly gay smut so enjoy and p2 tmrw!!

as most of yall know any reader i write (as a poc writer) has no race, i just wanted to use a picture of taylor momsen bc i love tpr and that's definitely the vibe of the music in this fic

part two part three

read me click me

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Being in the rock scene was your dream. You started with small gigs, then small venues and festivals, and now you had a band to go along with your music. Your career was kicking off and it felt like heaven; every performance, every song, all the adrenaline made for some of the best nights of your life. 

When you picked your band, you hand-selected each member, and to say you picked your guitarist for any reason other than how pretty she was would be a lie. Yes, she was amazing, but you also couldn’t speak when she walked in for her interview. She just smiled, laughing at the way you stared at her before your manager started talking for you. He often did, she came to realize. 

She still accepted the moment you offered her the position, but she made it clear that she didn’t like your manager. She accepted for you; to be with you.

And she slowly became your favorite part of performing. You had this way of connecting with each other — of course, you were close with all of your band members, but she was different. You’d spend time together one-on-one, smoking a joint and talking about nothing until one of you had to force yourself to go. You’d get coffee together, have dinners, and even spend the night at each other’s apartments. Whenever someone asked about you two, you said you were best friends. Even when she was waiting for you at the end of the carpet, and you both laughed at your answer like it was some kind of inside joke. 

Even when you were onstage, on your knees, singing your most sensual song to her as she melted to your level, smirking as her hips thrust against the electric guitar. Sometimes, she even sang with you. You’d hold her face, or thread your fingers through her hair as you held eye contact or rested your forehead against hers with shut eyes, and if there was a break in the song you’d kiss her hard — a stage kiss that the crowd would erupt in cheers over. But they happened offstage, too… after a shared joint or during a party. Nothing more.

She’d let you place your fingers on the strings of her guitar to find the chords as you stood behind her, her head leaning back on your shoulder in a way that showed the muscles on her neck as she breathed in heavy, hot breaths. She let you wrap your hand around her throat, groaning in your ear as fans caught pictures of you dragging your tongue over her sweat-ridden jaw or biting her shoulder as she grinned. 

There was one night you let her take over the mic as you danced along. She played her guitar, singing and watching you until you sang with her. Your hands drifted down her thighs as you kneeled behind her, the crowd screaming as you lifted her shirt and came around to kiss the line of hair below her belly button. She smirked, stopping her playing and fisting your hair to pull your head back as you laughed. 

Nights when you’d take off your shirt, tossing it into the audience and pouring your water on yourself before she came to lick it up, tongue dragging over top of your breasts as you sang breathlessly. There were times she had to wrap her arm around your back to keep you standing when she did that, the action so intimate, so arousing, that it was hard to remember why you were on stage and not in your dressing room, alone with her. Some nights she’d take her shirt off and give it to you if she didn’t want anyone else to see you, smiling at you with her shirt on before you came over to kiss her cheek. 

There were moments with other band members, but none of them were like her. They didn’t make you feel the same — none of them were her. 

So, when the end of her contract came up and she talked to you about leaving to pursue other things, you were devastated. You didn’t think she’d leave, but after a talk with your manager, her decision was set. 

“I think you should,” you told her anyway. “Whatever makes you happy, Els, seriously. I’ll support whatever you do.” She smiled, taking your hand to kiss. On the inside of her fingers, and yours, you could see the matching tattoos you got months ago, threading your fingers together so they match up. 

You dedicated your last show with her to her. It was a surprise, and she cried when you said it in the beginning, but she just turned away to shake it off quickly. At least, she did until you started crying during a song you wrote for her — it was another surprise from you and the rest of the band, but the minute she saw you crying she couldn’t keep it together. She came over to hug you, kissing the top of your head as she let you hide your face in her chest. The crowd awed, but Ellie took the mic to say you’d be back. She set it down and lifted your head to make you look at her. “I love you, pretty girl,” she said, away from the microphone so no one heard her, but they could sound it out if they wanted to. “Please don’t cry.” She wiped beneath your eyes, ignoring the camera flashes and screams from the crowd. “I hate that I can’t do anything about it right now.”

You smiled. “I’m gonna miss you so much.” 

She laughed at you. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” She nodded to the microphone. “Finish my song, I wanna hear the rest.”

“You’re an idiot,” you said, now standing at the mic and making the audience laugh. 

You were such an idiot. 

She never told you what other things she wanted to pursue, but you should’ve known. 

Of-fucking-course she was pursuing her own music. Of-fucking-course she was starting her own band. With yours. Of-fucking-course all of their contracts ending over the course of a few months would amount to this. Of-fucking-course each last show you dedicated to them meant nothing. 

You couldn’t even be mad. It was smart. But you were beyond hurt. 

And she still dedicated her first show to you. She texted you herself, asking you to come. 

When would you learn your lesson?

“I just want to thank you guys for coming,” she said to an audience of mostly your fans. “You might know me — us — from a backup band, but we got a little tired of being backup, didn’t we?” The band laughed. “So, uh, my name’s Ellie if you don’t know�� probably don’t,” she laughed as if you’d never thanked or introduced your band before. “And I just want to dedicate this show to the previous artist I worked with. I wouldn’t be here without her, so she means… a lot,” she said it so fucking snarky, “to me, and… I have a few songs for her… if you all wanna guess which ones they are.”

And her first song was the biggest Fuck You song you’d ever heard. 

Still, she texted you after the show. 

She didn’t ask you to come to another show, and maybe that was because you announced a break from music, or because she was getting so much attention that she didn’t care. You saw her at award shows sometimes, and she would cheer when you won. Of course, you’d cheer for her too, but it never went beyond that. Almost like it was an unspoken rule that you weren’t on speaking terms. 

But the minute you came back to the scene, almost a year later, she texted you for the first time since her first show. 

You didn’t reply at first. You hadn’t kept up with her at all during your break, your manager telling you to stay away from any of her and her band's promotions and interviews. He had you block all of them and their numbers, but you couldn’t bring yourself to block Ellie’s. And you were glad you didn’t. Usually, you didn’t have your phone on you until late at night, your manager having your assistant handle your messages and social media, but you were about to fall asleep when she texted. As if she remembered your schedule. 

And it prompted you to look her up. Then her and you, and you could see countless videos. 

every time ellie has mentioned “her” compilation was what you decided to click on. It was made by an account that was clearly a big fan of hers, so you readied yourself for any hate that’d be thrown your way. 

The first clip was an interview, asking her why she split from your team. “You know, I really loved her and her team,” she said, “still really love her. It’s just hard being reminded, constantly, that you're a stepping stone and your time is running low, you know? We might’ve held her back if we stayed, and she was moving on to better things,” it sounded like she was quoting someone else. “—I mean, she always wanted us to shine, and I’m so grateful for her. I really miss being on stage with her, but I don’t miss anything else besides her and I think that says a lot.” 

Another was on her way into a hotel, a reporter asking if you congratulated her on an award. You could remember seeing her at the show before your manager called you over just as she was walking your way. She laughed, “haven’t talked to her in months.” 

Another of a sit-down interview with the whole band, your name being brought up and Ellie snapping at them, “You know I really wish people would stop asking me about her.” She got choked up as the others answered, nose reddening when the question finally circled back to her. “We’re not friends, we don’t talk, she doesn’t want anything to do with us, so...” She shrugged, pissed off. 

The next was another interview. It seemed she was just having to get used to being asked about you. “I’ve tried to reach out,” she said, “maybe she changed her number.” 

Another. “She was my best friend, I miss her a lot. I hope she’s doing okay.” 

And another, asking about her songs. “Yeah, I wrote a lot about her — No, I don’t regret it. I feel like it reflects a moment in time, you know? It was a really nice moment — I mean, I still have our matching tattoos,” she laughed, showing the tattoos on the insides of her fingers. 

Another, after a show. She was always emotional after shows, and it made it harder to watch as she wiped her eyes when the interviewer asked what your relationship really was. “I don’t fucking know,” was her answer before she walked away. 

Some of them were sweet, memories you shared that made you laugh. Others made you sick with guilt, like when she mentioned your lack of response or you blocking the band. Some just made you sad. And you felt like an idiot for doing this, but after reading the comments, some defending you for not running your socials or phone, or angry with you for the same reason, you played a compilation of the two of you together from the same account. 

Then you called Ellie. 

It rang once before sending you to voicemail and you just hung up. You kept your attention on the video to distract yourself from how much that stung. 

But she called right back. 

You stared at the phone for a moment, seeing the contact poster of the two of you at her last show with you lighting up your screen and feeling your words get caught in your throat as your eyes stung. You grabbed the phone, answering quickly. “Ellie?” It was silent, “Ellie, I just wanted to say, I had no idea… I understand if you never want to talk to me again, but I—“ You cleared your throat, trying not to sound like you were about to cry. “I’m really sorry.”

“I thought — I didn’t think you were going to — It feels so good to hear your voice,” was what she settled on after stammering through a few sentences. “You have no idea how much I’ve, just, wanted to talk to you…”

You bit down on your lip as you listened to her. She didn’t sound angry, but she clearly had so much to say to you. Her voice was filled with feeling as she went on, trying to get everything out as if she thought you’d hang up the phone at any minute. You just listened, shutting your eyes and bringing your hand over your face as hot tears spilled down your cheeks. You couldn’t bring yourself to understand why you were so emotional, maybe it was the fact that you misunderstood her so easily, or that your manager had ruined your relationship with her, or maybe it was even that you were just getting to hear her talk after so long, but she paused the moment she heard you trying to calm your breathing. 

“Please don’t cry.” She already knew. “I hate it when you cry and I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “Keep talking. What were you saying?” You looked at your computer, auto-playing something else of the two of you. It was clips of you on stage and during interviews, heads on each other's shoulders, hugging, kissing each other’s cheeks, singing together. You pursed your lips, tears coming quicker as you slammed your laptop closed. “Ellie,” you cut her off, biting at your lip as you looked at the empty spot on your bed she used to take some nights, “what are you doing right now?” 

“I’m on my way,” she said quietly, and you could hear her shuffling on the other line. She was probably getting ready to go to sleep, and wake up to no response just like every other time she messaged you. And you would have woken up with no idea she even texted you. “Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

“If you’re already headed to sleep—“

“I’m coming over,” she said. “I’m already in the car, I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

“Okay…” Now you felt bad for making her leave her house, looking outside at the snowfall and sniffling as you tried to wipe your eyes. “I’ll see you soon.” You hung up the phone and groaned at yourself, shoving your head in your pillow. 

You opened your laptop, typing in the song names people speculated she wrote for you and queuing them all. Not one was the one you heard during her first show, and it made you feel even worse by the time the doorbell rang. You moved off of your bed, wiping your eyes and going to the door to buzz her up to your apartment. 

You waited by the door, balls of your feet kicking at the floor as you crossed your arms and waited for her to knock. It was the same rhythm she used to knock in, and where it usually made you smile, it made you cry more. God, you missed her, and you didn’t even realize how much until now. You took too long to open the door and you heard the lock click. She still had her set of keys, and that made you feel worse, too. She’d probably texted you about returning them, and you never got to see it. Nothing was making you feel better as she opened the door, and seeing her face just made it worse. 

“God,” she muttered, immediately bringing her arms around your waist. She tucked her head into your shoulder, shutting her eyes as your arms went around her shoulders. Her hands held you like you’d disappear the minute she let go, thumbs running soothingly back and forth over your shirt. “I missed you so much,” she said. “They all wanted me to get over it, but I knew there was no way — I knew we had something more than just — fuck, I know you better than they do. I know I do.” Her lips brushed your skin with every word. “I missed you so fucking much,” she repeated, hugging you tighter. 

Just her touch made your tears slow to a stop, relaxing into her hold and hugging her so tight, but she didn’t care. She was happy to be back in your arms. Your hand drifted to her hair, cradling her head to your shoulder. You could remember the nights you spent playing with her hair until you fell asleep and the thought made you run your fingers through it. She sighed, pulling her head back but refusing to let you go. 

There was a silence as you moved her hair out of her face, tucking the strands behind her ear. Slowly, your hand cupped her cold, flushed cheek. She leaned into your touch, eyes falling to your lips as your thumb stroked her cheek. 

“Ellie,” you muttered and she hummed, turning her head to kiss the inside of your palm. “I missed you, too,” was all you chose to say despite the wanting in the way you said her name. Her hand took yours as she kissed the inside of your wrist. “So much…” Her kisses trailed up your arm, with more of a meaning behind them than any of the kisses you’d given each other before. 

You moved your hand back to her face, turning her head toward you. She met your eyes, hers shining in the low light. They fell to your lips again and she leaned in, kissing your cheek. She kissed away every tear stain, still wet and warm. She moved closer and closer to your mouth, but never kissed you, kissing away the stains on your other cheek instead. 

Then you turned your head, catching her lips for a brief moment before she pulled back. There was a moment of hesitation, neither of you able to speak before she pressed her lips to yours. They were still cold from being out in the snow, but they warmed as you kissed her back, pressing your body impossibly closer to hers as she sighed into your mouth. She couldn’t tell you how long she had wanted this, but she knew it was long enough that her waiting for you was pathetic.

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Series Masterlist is here.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, heartless Soldier Boy, reader gets hurt, mention of violence, mention of drugs, betrayal, Soldier Boy being a dick, reader is a supe, Crimson Countess is a bitch

Word Count: 1796

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

“Get lost fuckface and bring me a coffee,” Ben said telling the the poor guy who was trying his best to make Soldier Boy happy till the broadcast start.

The announcement of the new Payback member to the American public was scheduled for today. The company's executives had already made the decision to bring on a new employee, despite the fact that the team already had enough members. Everyone on the team opposed this idea, with the exception of Soldier Boy and you, but nothing changed.

You didn't mind if a new person joined the team because they were assigning Soldier Boy all tasks, regardless of importance, and you could see he was growing more and more irate with each passing day. Given that Black Noir was the team's second-strongest member, it was obvious Soldier Boy didn't appreciate the concept of being used for insignificant tasks constsantly. It was obvious that the team definitely required one more strong member.

“You don’t have to be so rude to those people,” you murmered as you approached Ben. "They are all scared of you already.”

Ben chuckled as he sat down and sniffed the white dust, saying, “I am not familiar with the concept of princess treatment, sweetheart, and nobody respects a pussy leader; keep that in mind.”

You sighed knowing he would never change his attitude just because you told him to. He pulled you to his lap and gave you a quick and firm kiss, silencing you before you argue with him.

All of you were taken aback when a new supe was introduced because you hadn't seen her before. She smiled and gave a short but impactful speech about how she would benefit America and its citizens. She looked nice and strong with her red suit and long red hair.

You were only made to feel worse by the fact that everyone was rooting for Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess every day, and their fan base became stronger over time. The current Crimson Countess stood on the side where you used to stand. They were singing together in ads while standing side by side and hand in hand, which was keeping you up at nights. The growing distance between you and Ben was eating you alive.

He hardly ever visited or spoke to you during the day, despite the fact that he used to spend the night with you in the past. There were moments when you tried to talk to him about what was going on, but he waved you off right away, saying he had things to do and couldn't be seen with any other woman but the Countess.

You were frequently questioned about their relationship, and you smiled while telling the cameras that they were lucky to have found each other and that they were strong together. If only they were aware of your true feelings.

Even though Ben continued to treat Noir rudely, which greatly upset and angered you, the rest of the crew was glad that Soldier Boy had finally become distracted. This was because they had been mistreated and bullied by him less than in the past. You two had heated disagreements over Noir as well in the past, but Ben consistently ignored your emotions and ideas. Now that Crimson also supported him about how he should treat the team made your blood boil with hatred and agony.

Noir remarked, removing his mask, “I can't do this, Y/N. I refuse to bow to him and put up with the way he treats me.”

You walked up to him and touched his back to get him to turn to face you. “What do you mean?” you questioned.

“I’m saying he is not worthy of being a leader.” Noir paced violently and stated, “All he does is get high with Crimson and bully me and everyone around him. He left you aside too.”

Though you knew he didn’t mean to hurt you, his words cut deep and silenced you for a second.

“Don’t do something crazy, Noir. You hear me?” You asked, ignoring his thoughts about Ben leaving you. “You know his short temper.”

Noir was always kind and kind, so you were surprised to see him so furious, but you knew he was right about everything, and Ben seemed to be getting worse and more distant every day as his connection with Countess took shape right before your eyes. You seemed to be deceiving yourself all along when you told yourself that their relationship wasn't real.

“I don’t know. Someone must do something about this.”

“You don’t stand a chance against him,” you said as you grasped his arms tightly. “I’ll talk to him, okay. I’ve got this, I promise.”

Noir gave you a nod before he put the mask on, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You waited patiently until you learned Ben would be alone tonight because Crimson would be going on a mission. Your heart raced when you entered his house without saying anything. He must have heard the noises you made already, because he turned to you immediately and did not look surprised to see you.

“Hi,” you whispered, not knowing how to react around him anymore.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked as he sat down in the coach after. He was high on cocaine.

As you walked up to him, you gave him a disappointed expression, but the way he looked stopped you. In the past, you were close every second, but those days are long in the past now.

“What’s wrong with you?” Your eyes were watery as you asked. It seemed like you would explode at any moment.

“Are fucking on your period? Why so sensitive?” His smile infuriated you, and he laughed as if something amusing had happened. There was something very punchable about his face.

“Why do you still treat Noir like a fucking jackass? He follows your instructions to the letter, and you are simply being disrespectful to him and the team as a whole.” You spoke angrily, as if you wanted him to share your feelings of rage. You wanted to wipe that foolish smile off his face.

His body abruptly shifted, giving you a menacing glance and raising his finger in your direction. “Don't fucking give me some advise. Who the fuck are you? You do realize that I am the fucking boss here, don't you?”

He hasn't been this angry with you in a long time, so you were surprised by his harsh remarks. It seemed like he hated you as he spat those words.

You yelled back, “I don't even know the man I'm talking to anymore,” at which point your tears finally fell. “Since Crimson entered your life, you have changed, Ben. She fucking hates you; she doesn't even love you. Don’t you see it?”

He was eventually enraged by your screams at him, and he stood in front of you with hate in his eyes. Your heart pained when you saw him staring at you like that, with eyes full of anger and fury.

“Do you know what I'm going to do?” He asked softly, as if he were just saying something kind. “I'm fucking gonna kill that masked pussy Noir and fucking make sure you watch through it.”

His cold words frozen you, and your eyes widened seeing he meant every word he said.

You shoved him away by his chest and sobbed, “If you ever touch Noir, I swear I'll cut Countess’ bitch head and throw it to your fucking thick skull.”

You were aware that nothing or no one could stop Ben from doing what he wanted to do, and that you might be the reason Noir was put to death or anything like. Your pulse raced upon witnessing Ben's unexpected outburst of rage against Noir.

Judging by his face, it was clear he was taken aback by your sharp words. You’ve never talked in athreatening way before with anyone. Your sigh and sobbing were the only things that filled the pregnant silence in the room.

“Ben,” you said softly, trying to reach again one more time, and you touched his face, hoping he wouldn’t push your hands back. To your surprise, he didn’t make a move. You looked him into the eyes between your tears and said, “I am the only one who truly loves you. Not her, not anyone else. Just me. What happened to us?”

You waited for him to answer you after you gave him a firm kiss, showing your love and care for him, but he didn’t kiss you back. Instead, he pushed your hands away from his face, with an unreadable look on his face.

“Why are you being selfish?” he asked, breaking the silence, almost irritated by your kindness toward him. “People love seeing me and her together. Duty fucking comes first.”

“You don’t owe love to her just to be loved by people you don’t even know,” you said, trying to convince him he didn’t have to do something he didn’t want to.

“How the fuck do you know I’m doing this for people only?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, as your heart skipped for a moment.

“Maybe I’m fed up with your soft attitude, and I want to be with her. How about that?” He said he was giving you an insidious smile.

With a heavy heart, you stepped back from him as more tears dropped from your cheeks. There was no point trying to convince Ben for your love while he didn’t give a fuck about it at all and the one he wanted was actually Countess.

“Is that what you want?”

“It fucking is,” he said, sitting down in the coach and keeping sniffing cocaine, like the conversation meant nothing to him and he wanted you to be gone.

Before leaving his house, you turned him one last time, saying, “She’ll betray you, Ben. I don’t know if I see that day, but you’ll see it.”

Next Chapter

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

A/N: Well, that was a one shot, but let me know if you think that I should make it multi-chapters. Comments are appreciated, hehehe. <33

[destinyisastar]

2.Static Heart

Summary: You land in heaven, but you suddenly hear static that no one else hears. You chose to follow the sound, where will it lead you?

Alastor x Wife Reader

(Read 1. Static Death as a prequel to this story!) (Read Static Remains for part 3.)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───  ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Soft, everything felt soft and very …. heavy?

Why is everything white?

You grab your face feeling for anything different…. no, nothing wrong there.

But why does your back feel heavy.

You twist your head and are met with a pair of wings on your back. White, beautiful, large wings.

“What… what is this?” You stand up from your spot on the (fluffy?) ground.

You turn you head around and see a line of …people… yes people with wings.

Walking towards the end of the line you tap a woman’s shoulder, and she turns around.

“Um, I’m sorry but what exactly is going on?”

“Oh, dear haven’t you figured it out yet?” She says looking at you glumly.

“No, No I haven’t figured anything out!” You feel yourself start to shake. “One moment I was in bed and now I’m here!” You feel like crying.

The woman starts to rub your arms, “Its okay, your okay,” she looks around for a moment. “I just got here myself, but I do believe we are at the gates of heaven.”

The gates of heaven? Did I die? How did I die? Heavens real?!

You feel a sense of panic, you feel your breath running out of you. You place a hand on your chest.

“Deep breaths…. breath in……. breath out…that’s right everythings fine. You don’t have a thing to worry about anymore.” She tells you in a soothing voice.

Your breathing comes back at a normal pace. “Thank you, miss. I just don’t understand how I got here.”

“It’s all right, I was a bit shocked myself, with the wings and finally seeing heaven. My names Josephine Wright.”

“My names Y/n Hartfelt.”

Josephine smiles at you, “Can’t believe there’s actually a heaven, I mean you hear about it, but you never really expect to see it!”

You nod, your mind still not accepting the fact that you are in fact dead.

How am I dead?

Josephine continues to ramble on about her life, her children she hopes to see, wondering if her dogs, Brownie and Gravy, are in heaven too.

You cross your arms together slightly shuffling. Then you hear it.

Static.

It’s overcoming your ears, and you turn around to find the source.

“Hey, hey everything all right?”

You look back towards her, “Didn’t you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“The static.”

Josephine looks around, “No, I haven’t heard a thing. Maybe it’s your ears still getting used to this place. I’m still getting use to how bright it is here.”

Maybe it is, but the static….

It’s getting louder.

“Hey, do you have anyone you’re waiting for?”

“Huh?”

“I mean I told you who I’m expecting to see but you haven’t told me much about you.”

You take a moment, “My husband… but I don’t think he’ll be here.” You mumble the last part, placing your hands over your heart.

“Hmm?”

“No, I just... my husband, he… he died before me.”

“Oh, don’t worry dear, he might just be waiting for your return beyond those gates.”

The static is louder than before.

“I think I’m going to walk around a bit…”

“Oh, I can save your spot while you walk, the line doesn’t look like it’ll get any shorter, specially since that little guy in the front keeps singing.”

“Yes... thank you, Josephine.”

You decided to walk towards the static.

With each step you take the static grows incredibly louder. You can hardly see Josephine anymore.

Static, why is there static in heaven?

You find a hole in the ground, but the hole is filled with red. Nothing like the bright shining light in heaven. It seems to be where the static is emitting from.

You kneel near the hole placing your hands around the edges.

“What is this?”

You stick your head in the hole, and it feels…. hot. There seems to be a whole city down there with darker colors compared to heaven’s light.

The static… it sends shivers through your body.

“It’s coming from down here…”

You push yourself closer into the hole.

“The static is louder down here.”

You push yourself more until... you fall.

You feel your wings flap rapidly.

You scream but the ground is still getting closer, covering your face with your hands.

Then you feel the ground on your feet.

Your breathing is uneven, and you feel your body for an injuries.

“Okay, okay, I’m okay, I’m alive…...well dead alive…. alive dead?” You shake your head.

The static now courses through your body sounding louder than ever before.

It doesn’t seem that far from where you landed.

You stick your head out from the alleyway, and you see …. creatures.

There seems to be two lizards bashing each other’s heads, there a fox fellow smashing glass, gunshots filling the air, and... and is that a blimp with a cannon?!

You back into the alley, what is this place. Wait… if up there was heaven does that mean… that… this is hell?

You still hear the static and feel the need to get there. Something is pulling you towards the sound.

Your feet lead you through the twists and turns of the alleyway. It seems never ending.

It seems to be getting darker, you feel yourself shaking.

Why do I feel nervous?

“NO, NO NO NO NO NO PLEASE! I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT!! FUCK!! DON’T KILL ME PLE—”

Blood splatters on your dress.

Dead. Someone’s dead.

Someone died in front of you, but you stand still.

They’re dead and you’re just standing.

Run, why don’t you RUN????

The static stills you.

“Well, I didn’t know I had an observer….” The voice sounds like a radio, it sounds… familiar.

You can’t see who’s talking but the static, you know it’s coming from the voice.

“Did you come for a free show? Hmmmm…” The voice is getting closer.

The voice comes from beneath you seemingly from the darkness below.

This being, it towers over you.

“Its not polite to not make eye contact with someone who is speaking to you.” He tilts your chin up to face him.

The static stops.

You both look into each other’s eyes.

The being has a monocle, a pair of horns on his dark red hair with fluffy ears.

Even with all the changes, he’s still the man you fell in love with.

“Alastor… is that you?” you quietly ask.

He places his hands on your face, “Y/n?” The radio tone in his voice stops as he rubs his thumb along your cheek.

“Yes… it’s me my love.” You take one of his hands holding your cheeks and kiss it softly.

“What, what are you doing here? How are you here?”

“I heard static noises from up there. I decided to follow the sound and…. it led me to you.” You look back up at your loving husband.

“Why did you… why did you kill them? Why did you leave me?” You begin to sob, your hands forming fist, and you begin to bash them into his chest.

“I never felt more lonely in my life, when you died if felt like I was being split into two.”

Alastor doesn’t stop you from hitting him.

“Why!?”

He starts to rub your back feeling your wings, caressing them softly.

Alastor faces you back towards him, wiping your tears.

“Dearest there are many things you don’t know about me. But one thing that I’ve never hid from you is my love.”

Your crying stops.

“You shouldn’t be down here and even so you shouldn’t be dead so soon.”

You don’t say anything.

He pulls you closer. “I love you more than anything.”

You wrap your arms around him, “I missed you so much.”

Alastor kisses your forehead. “Now my dear, let’s go home.”

Smiling you push yourself closer to his face and with understanding your actions Alastor moves forward.

A kiss so sweet death can no longer break you apart ever again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───  ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I'm still working on the Vox and Alastor story so in the meantime have this. I'll try to post once a day:)

Word Count: 1342

[simpcityy]

I’m Not Her (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This is very short as well! Just a little prompt I thought also, I know the song is about a girl who loves a boy etc., but I thought of it more as father and daughter way. *Ahem* Him thinking of Gabi rather than the present daughter he has…I’m sorry if I confused you.

Word Count: 500

Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad. Uhhh I think that is all for now.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

Being the biological daughter of Miguel O’Hara has its ups and downs but mostly downs according to you. Walking through the Spider Society, you held some reports from Jess, she was on her way to hand them over to your father but seeing the kind person you are, you decided to do it for her so she can rest. You're amazed how a woman so pregnant can still fight. Walking down the halls, you were alone with your thoughts. The time he left to be a father to another girl..a girl named Gabriella…were you not enough for him? What did Gabi have that you didn’t? So many thoughts running through your head only to be snapped from hearing Mayday giggling in the room. Taking a deep breath, you pushed in ready for the chaos. “Hey! (Y/N)!” Peter smiles holding an energetic child. “Hey” You responded before looking over at Miguel who was looking at the videos that hurt you the most. Videos of him and Gabriella. You only frown a bit before masking it. “I'll just drop this off” You dropped the files onto a flat surface before walking to the door. “Hey Boo! You going to ask him?” Lyla appears in front of you smiling. You look at her and back to Miguel before shaking your head. “No…he has better things to do” You whisper walking through her, leaving. Lyla watches you staying quiet before next to Miguel. “Files were dropped.” She brought him back to reality. “Hmm? Who?” He mutters looking at the AI. He goes down his platform and picks up the files you left. “(Y/N) did, she was here not long ago” Lyla looks at her phone scrolling through it. Miguel looks at the door where you left not long ago.

Sitting out on the roof of your dimension, your thoughts only seem to be filling you up with anger. Why did he leave you to be a father for another kid…yeah, she lost her father but so did you…he left you to be with her. You groan out in frustration before looking at the time. “There is not enough time left” You mutter before getting up and going back to the house. A home where you stopped waiting for him to come home. Upon reaching your room, you changed into your pjs before walking over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you pulled out a cake you ordered yourself from your favorite shop. Placing it on the table, you put the candles on and sat down in front of it. “Happy Birthday to me…happy birthday to me…” You began to sing before letting out a sob. Your candles were put out from your tears. Another year alone and many more to go.

“If I could be her…but I’m not her and she’s not me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: This was just little one-shot. An idea that always comes to mind whenever I listen to that amazing song! I am working on part 3 of the Biomedical Engineer x Miguel. Hopefully this weekend it comes out along with the last part of my first father figure Miguel x reader. Please check those out if you haven’t. I’m stuck if I should make this into a full series as well, but I don’t know if people would interest in it. Anyways, as always sorry for any grammar errors. Thank you all for the support! Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 62!) Thank you so much for the follows and please you are welcome to reblog my works for others to be aware of this new Miguel O’Hara simp writer!

[aothotties]

Just some headcanons about your local Farmer Reiner. ❤️

Warnings: None, smut in future parts.

჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ

* Farmer!Reiner who took control of his parents ranch when he graduated from highschool.

* Farmer!Reiner who has a pretty black stallion named Onyx.

* Farmer!Reiner who drives a big ass black pickup truck that's his pride and joy.

* Farmer!Reiner makes extra money on the side by selling produce, dairy, eggs, (etc.)

Farmer!Reiner see you for the very first time at the local farmers market.

჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ

Reiner isn't a social butterfly by any means, but when his mother “gently” recommended that he set up a booth at the market, he couldn't exactly tell her no. He won't admit it now, but he’ll always thank his mom for forcing him to socialize.

You catch his eye when you, another woman and a young boy walk into the market. The little boy runs ahead of you both and up to the stand.

Reiner gives the little man a smile and you follow behind him while letting out a huff.

“Junior you know better than to run off like that!” You scold him and he giggles mischievously in return.

“I’m sorry, he didn't break any of the eggs or something did he?” You look around the table with concern and Reiner shakes his head to ease your worries.

“No, not at all. He's so fast I was afraid he was gonna knock me over!” The statement brings another giggle out of the curly haired boy, Reiner squats down to his level and holds a hand out.

You watch as your nephew shakes hands with the older man and you can't help but feel your heart swoon at the sight. Your sister waddles up behind you with more samples than when you last saw her.

“What happened?” She asked with a mouth full of fruit.

You roll your eyes and point to your nephew with the handsome man that you can't stop sneaking glances at.

“Reiner! Him and Ony used to work together at the construction site. We haven't seen him in years.” He looks up and his eyes widen in surprise, your sister greets him with open arms.

You and Junior stand to the side while they both catch up. You take a moment to look around at the items he's selling, you pick up a small carton of eggs and add it to the basket on your arm.

Your thoughts are cut off at the sound of your name coming from the conversation nearby.

“This is my sister YN, she's moving in right next door to Ony and me!”

He holds out a hand for you and you happily return the gesture with a handshake to match.

Reiner feels like a boy in one of those cliche films where the main couple falls in love at first sight, except he's almost positive this isn't a cliche.

When your hands touch he swears that he can feel time slow down. He takes these few seconds to get a proper look at you, making sure not to stare too hard. Can you blame him? Your black dress is hugging your bodys curves perfectly, your afro frames your angelic face like nothing he's ever seen before. And your voice, oh its like listening to birds sing on a sunny day.

The corner of his lips turn upward at the sound of your chuckle, he releases your hand from his grasp when he realizes he's been shaking it much longer than he needs to be.

“Sorry about that, I got a little distracted. Its good to meet you Ms. YN.” You shrug it off and smile fondly, Junior tugs on your dress and points to the eggs in the basket.

“Oh yeah, how much is a half carton of eggs?” You hold them out for him to take and he politely waves it off.

“Its on the house, any friend of Ony is a friend of mine.”

If you weren't feeling any sparks before, you're for damn sure feeling something now.

“That’s so sweet of you, if they're any good i’ll be back for more.” You say in a somewhat playful, but more so teasing tone.

“Trust me sweetheart, I’ll have you back here every week.”

[mollywog]

If the Fates Allow

“Katniss?”

She frowns into her wine glass. She’d snuck off to linger at the edge of the party for a breather and to pounce on the next tray of hors d'oeuvres to exit the kitchen. She sighs before pivoting towards the voice, but its owner is the last person she expects.

“Katniss Everdeen? I thought that was you!”

“Peeta?”

“Hey!” He looks relieved that she remembers him. “I can’t believe you’re here; what are the odds? How are you doing?”

She and Peeta Mellark had gone to school together, back in the day, but that was eight years and 200 miles ago. They’d never really spoken, but she’d always harbored a little crush on him and seeing him now, she remembers why. She’s in a bit of a daze as she dumbly answers and asks the usual questions.

“This is wild! I was actually just thinking about you.”

“No way,” she says automatically. Sure, Twelve was small, and yeah, they were in the same class, but he’d always been in the middle of it, surrounded by friends while she’d been on the fringe, just trying to make it through. She’s sort of surprised he even remembers her, let alone thought of her unprompted.

“Way. They were just playing ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’ and I was remembering that time you sang it in the sixth grade talent show.”

She laughs, “did I?” The memory of the terror and thrill of singing on the ‘big stage’ in the high school auditorium and the gingham dress and braids she'd worn in homage to Judy Garland come rushing back. “I guess you’re right.”

“I think about it every time I hear it.”

An exaggeration, she’s sure; You couldn’t get through the holidays without hearing the song at least three dozen times, “I barely remember that. You have an incredible memory.”

“Only for the important stuff,” he says, looking bashful. He shakes his head before continuing, “anyways; what brings you here tonight? Do you work for Capital Advertising too?”

“Oh, no, not me. My roommate, Johanna… From HR? I came as her plus one.”

Peeta frowns, shaking his head.

“She promised free food and booze.” Johanna was not one for leaving work at work and Katniss had assumed she’d met half her coworkers by now, but she’d underestimated the size of this holiday client party. It was much more formal and self important than she’d expected. She was pretty sure she’d heard someone say the Governor was here.

“But I think she really invited me to make her ex jealous.” Katniss adds, scanning the room for any sign of her roommate or the terrifying woman who’d occupied their apartment before her.

She should have suspected something when Johanna picked out this clingy scooped back dress for her and insisted on the nails and lashes.

“I wouldn’t want to be them tonight.”

She snorts, “yeah me either, I wouldn’t want to be in Johanna’s crosshairs.”

He gives her an amused smile and she realizes that might not have been what he meant. She takes a sip to hide her blush, “um, but what about you?”

“Nah, I just work in the art department, I’m not here to make anyone jealous; Though you’re looking pretty covetous of my plate right now.”

She winces; caught, “Johanna oversold the food.” She couldn’t get the waitstaff’s attention and by the time she did, their trays were empty. At least the alcohol was stationary; much easier to access. That’s why she was three glasses of wine in on an empty stomach. “I’m so hungry,” she says, stealing another longing glance at his plate.

He extends it towards her, “have at it.”

The alcohol has made her bold, and she takes a stalk of celery from his plate.

“Katniss, that’s not food, that’s a garnish.”

He hands her a goat cheese and apple tartlet. She pops the whole thing in her mouth, and her knees go weak. She suppresses a moan, closing her eyes and tipping her head back in approval.

“Better?”

She covers her mouth as she finishes chewing, “who do I have to kill to get more?”

“Easy there. I think we can manage this without bloodshed.” She watches him scan the room, making a quick assessment. “Here, start with this and go sit down. I’ll be right back.”

She doesn’t argue, taking the offering to a love seat on the corner. She really hopes Peeta’s successful if only for his own sake, since she’s neglected to save him even a scrap. He returns shortly after with a substantial bounty. She could weep, “how?”

He grins, “I told them you tripped in the hall and twisted your ankle. They’ll be bending over backwards to keep you from filing a suit now.”

“You didn’t!”

“Nah, I didn’t need to.” She raises a brow in question and Peeta gestures towards a waiter who looks like he still should have a curfew. “The man has eyes, Katniss.”

She looks away, biting back a smile, “well thank you. So where should we start?”

Peeta grins. “Do you like plums?”

~~~

“There she is!”

They’d moved on from the food and gravitated towards the wall of windows to look out over the town where they’d begun exchanging stories of their adventures in the city when her roommate’s voice startles them.

Johanna snakes an arm around her waist, resting her head on Katniss’s shoulder. “Mellark! Are you moving in on my date?” She tugs her in closer.

Katniss rolls her eyes, elbowing her friend in the side.

“Jo,” Peeta says in greeting. His eyebrows shoot up, “ohh, Jo, Johanna. I lied, I do know your roommate. She’s just Jo in the company directory and for some reason,” Peeta says with a sparkle in his eye, “I thought it was short for Josie.”

Johanna cackles, throwing her head back and grasping hold of his arm for support.

Katniss frowns. Obviously there’s some kind of joke here that she’s on the outside of. She stays quiet as Peeta and Johanna converse, brushing off Peeta’s attempts to draw her into their conversation with monosyllabic responses. She was having a nice time up until Johanna’s arrival.

“I still can’t believe we ran into you here,” he says to her after announcing his intentions to head out. She suddenly feels very silly for letting Johanna’s antics get to her. “Maybe I’ll see you around?…”

“If the fates allow,” she says; their own little joke that Johanna’s on the outside of.

She's not expecting the momentarily falter in Peeta’s smile, “Well, I should get going. Good to see you both.”

She deflates as he walks away, her eyes following him as he goes.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

She spins back towards her roommate, “What?”

“He’s into you. Or at least he was before…” she waved her hand, “whatever that was.”

Her heart does a little flip. Shit.

“Listen, you look hot tonight, but with your personality, I would not be playing hard-to-get,” Johanna continues, unaware of her friend's distress. “Let’s get out of here, I’m starving.”

[talesfromawannabewriter]

Mother of Humanity

Adam sat underneath his favorite tree in all of Eden. The one where he and Lucifer would spend their time under the shade laughing, talking, and sometimes even singing together. Nowadays he would go to when he needed a place to think. It had been about a month since both Lilith and Lucifer left, and a month since the angels had decided what to do with the stake of humanity on hold. Lilith was meant to be Adam's wife, the mother of humanity. Instead, she chose to throw all of that away while taking Lucifer with her.

That left them with a difficult decision, should they make a new woman? For what if she turned out exactly like Lilith and abandoned her duties as well? And the next one, and the next one, what if no matter how many times they try to create a new woman she would turn out the exact same? Then like a flash it hit them, they already had a loyal human who could play that part without question, Adam! Now, some might be confused, Adam was the first man, the future father of humanity, his body was not meant to carry children only produce.

That was when they got the most genius idea to become a woman. Only half the time though! By day he would be a man and at night he would be a woman, Eve, they would call him when in that form. They explained however that when he was finally blessed with a child, for nine months he would be stuck in his Eve form. Then when the baby was finally born, he would return to his natural form. Until night fell or the blessing happened again.

The angel's crisis regarding the true beginning of mankind was over and humanity would finally blossom and spread Earth. When Earth was finally suitable for humans until then Adam and the first generation of humans would stay in Eden. So long as they followed the one rule of course. As for Adam, he felt conflicted, though he always did dream of getting to become pregnant, it was always his angel who fulfilled that wish as they started a family. He loved Lucifer, yet he chose that horrible, horrible witch over him. Not to mention that the elders didn't even bother with asking him what he thought or what he wanted, they simply gave him this new responsibility.

Now he sat in his Eve form, and he looked the same, he now just had a vagina, large breasts, that were slightly bigger than Lilith's, a curvaceous backside and torso, long brown hair, and no facial hair whatsoever. All in all, it was Adam but now as a woman. Yet one feature of his body never changes his warm brown eyes. He sighed once more staring up at the shining rays of the moon. That's when he heard it, 'swoosh' 'swoosh'. The sound of heavy wings descending, he stood up prepared to greet one of the elders, hopefully, Sera, when he gasped. In the distance, a familiar angel stood with a familiar-looking woman. Not wasting any time, he sprinted his way over to the couple.

Adam: LUCI! LILY! OVER HERE, ITS ME!

The two turned in shock as a woman came tumbling toward them. Assuming it was Adam's new bride that they both heard of being created they stood to attention. Lucifer stepped forward ready to greet the second woman when he was cut off surprised by the second woman scooping him into her arms and giving him a great bear hug. He blushed as his head was smushed in between her sizeable bosom. It caused Lilith to stare bitterly at the sight. Once Lucifer was out of her hold he looked up at her beaming face. His brows furrowed as he saw tears start to fall from those strangely familiar eyes. Yet the smile still remained

Adam: Oh Luci, I missed you so much! I thought you were gone forever. The angels told me you wouldn't return, but you did, you really did. It doesn't matter though I'm just so glad you're back! You finally came back, for me, right? Because you know I love you, right?

Lucifer's eyes widen to the sizes of dinner plates, this woman not only acted as if she knew him since forever, but just declared her love to him.

Adam: Luci? What's wrong Lucifer?

Lucifer: (gulps) How, how do you know my name?

Adam: Luci it's me, I know I don't look like myself, but it really is me. It's your best friend Luci

Lucifer took a full minute to scan her face trying to see if she was in any way joking or lying. It was when he started to really stare deeply into her eyes, those eyes. Now he knew why they looked so familiar, those eyes, they were, she was,

Lucifer: ...Adam?

@kittenfangirl20

[dxmoness]

─────── NEW ROMANTICS.

✩ ིྀ ! WE'RE ALL BORED, WE'RE ALL SO TIRED OF EVERYTHING ! •˙ ⌗

𓂃  ࣪ c. henituse + boredom has its own solutions ˖ 𖦹

“this is so boring.” cale groans as he fiddles with the piece of parchment in his hand. his eyes linger towards the female who was indulged in reading something about mystics, that he could have sworn she said was a stupid book that was nonfactual yet still read with an engrossed desire.

“Oi. Earth to name, i am in dire need of some affectionate company over here.” he seemed sarcastic in saying it, but in his heart he really did. the female did not move an inch, immediately realizing the depth of her reading he decides to take a different approach or entertainment and just simply admires her from where he is.

he sighs deeply before he buries his face in the books and sleeps. only now did name notice him, a small smile flickered on her delicate lips as she looks for something he could lay his head on that wasn't a hardbound book.

she takes off her own coat, not at all minding the freezing frostbite of air she felt as she folds it up and places it under his head, slipping off the book and replacing it in a quick motion.

proud of her work, she made the decision to return to her book. before she could, cale’s hand shot out and kissed her soft fingers. his lips grazing on her knuckles brought more than enough colour to her pale skin.

embarrassed as she was, she gave him a playful swat and left. leaving a chuckling cale behind.

✩ ིྀ ! HEARTBREAK IS OUR NATIONAL ANTHEM, WE SING IT PROUDLY ! •˙ ⌗

𓂃  ࣪ j. agriche + how to get away from political marriage ˖ 𖦹

for some reason, her best friend jeremy had the sudden idea to meet her in the woods in secret and she hasn't the foggiest idea why.

but like the good friend she is, she went anyway. she enters the quiet midst of the forest. her eyes look warily around her, noticing a whine of a horse she follow the direction of the sound.

she finds jeremy, sitting on his horse. his blue eyes seem to shine when he sees her. he slides off and takes her hand, kissing it gently.

“lovely to see you've come, my beautiful lady.” you could swear it almost sounded sincere, but that is simply uncertain due to jeremy being an agriche by heart.

“yes, yes. what's the meaning of this?” she responds, her response seemed to make him flinch.

“i’ve upset you, my lady. that was not my intention.” jeremy murmured. “but let's get straight to the point, i'm here to let you in on one or my schemes.” he could tell this peaked her fragile line of interest. “i need you to be my pretty mistress.”

“what?!” she is stunned to say the least. and she had every right to be.

he gave a small smile to her outburst. “my father wants me in a political marriage and i do not like the woman i’ve been paired up with.” “so you're asking me to helo you break here heart?” name asks and he nods. “are you insane? sign me in.” she grins and jeremy chuckles, patting her head.

in the end, the fake relationship for heartbreak turned to a real one that they consummated quickly.

✩ ིྀ ! PLEASE TAKE MY HAND AND PLEASE TAKE ME DANCING ! •˙ ⌗

𓂃  ࣪ h. niccolo + a dance with the marquis ˖ 𖦹

it all went by so fast, the marquis spoke with her and a moment later took her to dance. his fingers intertwined with hers, his arm on her waist. the two of them swayed gracefully on the dance floor.

their dance seemed to catch everyone's attention as everyone seemed mesmerized. it ie understandable. even she is. the marquis is beautiful, breathtaking. words could not describe his elegance, his looks. he is an angel that descended from heaven.

and to be dancing with him? that is a high honour for her. she is absolutely in awe. also quite panicky. she didn't want to do any wrong, especially not with him as her partner.

he suddenly carried her and spun her around moving her down, they spin and twirl for ages. when they finish, he guides her to the quieter parts of the party. his eye filled with love and admiration as he kisses her on the hand.

“thank you dearest. it was a lovely time to dance with you.” hie voice is soft, gentle, soothing... his purple eyes is fixated on her own. his hand slipe and caresses her cheek. “you look ravishing, my lady.”

this brought a flush of colour on her cheeks. “thank you..”

“no problem.” he smiles and kisses her cheek so suddenly. “please excuse me now, lovely. i’ll see you again sometime, yes?” he asks, and she nods.

✦. ⊹ ˚ dedicated to @bertry3 !! gift no.2

guests — @lombxrdi , @achy-boo ,

@crownxie , @histxricaldrama ,

@yevene , @nyrwve , @hikamins : ˚⊹ ᰔ

────────────────────

© dxmoness. do not copy,

take inspo or translate my

work! none of the chars i

write for are mine unless

stated!

[steveshairychest]

Time travel au where Steve is the last one to go through the gate in Eddie's trailer, except when he comes out, he's not in his Hawkins anymore. Instead of being greeted by the sight of his friends safe and sound and Wayne's mug collection, he's standing in some random guys trailer.

He gets shoved out the front door and into the strange new world that is undoubtedly Hawkins, but not the Hawkins he remembers.

Everything feels wrong. The people look strange in their weird clothes and a lady across the park screams into a flat rectangle in her hand. The trailers look the same but there's something about them that's definitely wrong. Some guy blows smoke in his face while walking past and instead of the gross smell of cigarette he was expecting, it smells sweet, almost like strawberries. He's so fucking confused. He knows he's causing a scene by walking around gaping at everything, but what else is he supposed to do? Steal a car and drive off? He's never seen cars like this in his entire life!! Do they even work the same way?!

Maybe he has a concussion. Maybe this is his version of a vecna hallucination.

And then things only get more confusing when a little girl runs over to him and beams up at Steve like they've been best friends forever. "Hi, Mr Harrington! Why are you here?" She can't be older than 9.

Why does this little girl know him? He stares at her and his confusion must show because she tilts her head and frowns. "Are you okay, Mr Harrington?"

She keeps calling him Mr Harrington, is he a teacher here? Oh god, does that mean there's another version of himself running around here?! Wherever here is.

"I'm... fine. I'm just a little lost." He walks away before he scares the poor girl with his rising hysterics. Steve knows these roads like the back of his hand, he's driven them his entire life, but he takes a million wrong turns because there's suddenly so many new streets he's never even heard of. Where there should be a huge clearing, there is now a building so high Steve swears it touches the sky and the tree him and Robin used to have picnics under is now gone and replaced with a parking lot filled with more weird cars.

"What the fuck? What the fuck?!" Steve finally makes it to where his house should be and there's... nothing. It's just a block of land for sale. It tips him over the edge. He can't remember the last time he cried but right now he is balling and hiccuping as he stumbled down the street he grew up on. But it's wrong. It's all so wrong. People drive past and give him weird looks, a lady even stops jogging and takes out the tiny earplugs that play music so loud Steve can hear it, and asks if he's OK. "No, I'm not. This isn't real. This isn't real!"

It has to be vecna. He's got him. That's why he's stuck in this nightmare. "You have to play music! Give me your plug things! Make them play anything! Get me out of here." The woman refuses and does nothing but stand there in shock as Steve sinks down to the sidewalk and starts singing Everybody Wants to Rule The World as loud as he can.

"I'm calling 911. You need help." Steve doesn't hear her. He's singing so loud people are starting to come out of their houses to see what's going on but that doesn't matter to him. This isn't real. Vecna has him and he needs to get out.

When the ambulance pulls up, Steve's run out of tears. He's cried himself dry and he's resigned to the fact that any minute now, Vecna is going to snap his arms and legs. "I'm ready." He says quietly to no one but himself. He'd rather it be him than any of his friends. He knows they are probably watching him and trying to bring him back but it's too late. He can't hear the music they're playing.

"Steve?" A familiar voice drags him out of his own head, but it can't be real. He heard that voice take its final breath just mere minutes ago, he can still feel his drying blood under his fingernails. Steve lifts his head and there he is, it's Eddie, no doubt about it. His long hair is tied up in a bun and his eyes are sparkling with worry as he crouches down in front of Steve. It's then that Steve realises Eddie is in full paramedic gear and he's pulling all sorts of things out of a bag to check on Steve.

"Eddie, you're alive." He whispers in disbelief as Eddie checks him for any head injuries. "Where are we? How do we leave?"

Eddie pulls back and there's panic behind his eyes as he slowly helps Steve to his feet and gestures to his partner to grab the stretcher. "Steve, love, I need you to tell me what happened. Why aren't you at work?"

At work? What is Eddie going on about? And did he just call Steve love?!!

"Eddie, this isn't real. I need to leave. I can't stay here with you." He says it slowly so that Eddie understands. He may be some figment of Steve's weird dream imagination and he doesn't want to freak the poor guy out by telling him he's actually dead.

Eddie breathes in and out, his hands a little shaky as he helps Steve onto the ambulance stretcher. His partner helps get Steve set up in the back of the ambulance before they're driving off. Eddie reaches out and holds Steve's hand gently, the gesture surprising but not unwelcome. "Steve, baby, this is very much real life. You're in Hawkins. It's March 21st, 2023. Your name is Steve Harrington, remember?"

"Wait, what?!" Steve tries to sit up but Eddie gently pushes him back down. They hit a bump in the road and Eddie swears softly under his breath about his partner's driving. "It's not 1986?!" He's panicking. He can feel his heart rate spike and his breathing starts to quicken. Eddie tells him to stay calm and just breathe in and out but Steve can't hear him.

Maybe this really isn't Vecna. He'd be dead by now if Vecna had him and Eddie's touch feels too real to be a dream.

Before he knows it, his vision is going spotty and then he's out; the panic and absolute absurdity of it all finally getting to him.

"You'll be okay, Stevie."

Except this isn't the Steve Eddie knows and loves. His Steve, his darling husband, is currently having a dilemma of his own back in 1986.

[obriengf]

24 Crayons || Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: A boy met a girl in the midst of innocence, and formed a friendship that would last the ages. Words: 1.1k Warnings: omg just cuteness to the max Notes: written in third person, remaining chapters set in first person!

part one of TWENTY FOUR - a stiles stilinski series (masterlist)

Innocence was the simplicity of a sunny day; the way the light warmed skin and caught reflections in a twinkling gleam. It was the gentle hum of a small Californian town, filled with buzzing townsfolk in suburban settings and singing birds that found sanctuary in the surrounding wilderness. It was the floral scent of garden-lined sidewalks that was encapsulated within a plethora of beautiful flowers. But most of all, on this very particular day, innocence was the budding friendship between two children on their first day of kindergarten. Brown, doe-like eyes, peered upward as lips jutted out in a pout. They belonged to a young boy as nerves overtook his small body, worried about being alone and away from his parents. His hands were small as they gripped onto the pant legs of his father before cementing his little feet to the pavement below. He was refusing to move; head shaking, frown quivering, cheek rubbing against khaki-coloured material. "Stiles, honey..." A tender voice cooed, a woman with dark brown hair and the sweetest of smiles now moving to crouch to his level. She was among the shining light of the sun, ethereal glows highlighting her frame before a hand with a loving touch cupped the young boy's face. "You'll have the best time, I promise. Once you make some friends, you will love it here." "B-but you and dad are my friends!"

The woman's gaze saddened as they flickered up toward her husband, a mutual conversation of silent expressions and empathy. With a tender pat to her shoulder, the woman stood, instead replaced by a man with kind eyes and a gold badge that glimmered in the light. Stiles' focus moved to the word 'Deputy' as his small finger dragged over the engraving on the golden metal, his sobs quietening only in the slightest.

"Do you want to see the special big boy present we got for your first day, bud?" The man spoke with a gentle tone before being met with a sniffle and hesitant head nod from his son. He was careful as he dug through the spiderman backpack in front of him, his facial features contorting with funny expressions to make Stiles laugh. The sound of happiness made the man sigh with contentment as he pulled out a yellow box - colours, one of every rainbow shade, were lined up perfectly and ready for a creative imagination.

"Crayons!" Any prior sense of despair had dissipated as the boy's eyes grew, childlike wonder and jovial sounds now becoming his persona in the way his parents had always known him. The box was grasped with delicate fingers before small arms were thrown behind the father's neck, holding him in a loving embrace.

The man smiled. All surroundings slowly faded as this family of three stood within their bubble of perfection - of love, and purity. Everything was right in the world, and nothing could stand in their way.

Stiles stood off to the side; his senses were on alert, nervousness working through his small frame as he overlooked the large classroom and the many bodies that took up its space. He was too shy to speak to anyone, and he felt as if the room began to close in on him the longer he isolated himself. He dreamed of being back in the arms of his father, to be looking up at his mother's graceful smile that made all the scary moments go away. Everybody seemed to have someone and Stiles had never felt so alone.

It wasn't until he looked across to the far side of the room - past the children playing with their toys, and his new teacher talking to other adults that he didn't know - that he spotted another that seemed as lonely as he did. She had her back turned to him, but he could tell that she was sad by the way her pencil moved slowly over the page in front of her.

Little feet padded with caution as Stiles made his way toward her, the box his father gave him clutched tightly to his chest as a reminder that he was a big boy now and that alone was enough to give him some courage.

He cleared his throat, voice quiet as he peered over her shoulder, "Can I sit with you?"

Her head shot up with surprise to hear another voice, body turning quickly to see a young boy with the biggest brown eyes she'd ever seen. She nodded eagerly, pushing the chair beside her out for him to drop beside her. Stiles felt relief, his smile wide with anticipation as he stuck his hand out - something his father taught him when saying hello to new people. The girl looked at him funny before she smiled too, her hand sliding against his easily.

"Hi, my name is Mieczyslaw!" He spoke quickly, the sound of his name amusing as it came from his young squeaky voice. It didn't make it any easier to understand with the tooth missing from his bottom row, either.

Her head tilted, lashes fluttering as she thought of what he said. The girl hummed, "Mich.. ca.. slor?"

Stiles laughed loudly, his grin growing wider, if even possible. The boy nodded, "Kinda, but it's okay, it's hard to say sometimes."

The girl giggled along with him, her body turning further in her seat until she was facing him front on. "That's a funny name!"

"It's my grampa's name.." He started, shuffling closer to the girl, "But you can call me Stiles! Erry'one calls me that."

"Okay, Stiles. That's a funny name too!" She followed his earlier sentiment as her small hand was thrown toward him, ready for another shake, "I'm Y/n."

He took it gladly, "I like that name, it's pretty. Y/n."

A red hue dusted her cheeks, a mix of excitement and happiness as she found someone to talk to. And he was someone that made her laugh, which she liked most of all.

Stiles wasn't afraid as he put his box of crayons on the table between them, a sense of pride filling him as he saw her eyes widen in amazement. He patted the top, "My dad and mom gave me these."

"Wow! And you got the big box too, with all the good colors!"

Stiles' smile never faltered, and he knew that he liked you straight away. You were going to be a good friend. "Yeah! I haven't opened 'em yet. Did you wanna color with me?!"

That was the beginning of an unbreakable friendship, the first chapter in the lives of you and Stiles Stilinski.

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

I got a Rwby ask for ya for Yang Xiao long, Weiss schnee and Nora Valkyrie with a Male S/O that's Shy like Kobeni from chainsaw man and seems to downplay himself when in actuality he's incredibly strong. I just wanna see His girly just smother him in affection and won't allow him to talk down on himself

I had a fun time writing this, though I'm not sure If I did all to well on it as I'm not really sure if I have a firm grasp of everyone's characters, not to mention I was half asleep when writing most of this.

Now! Your wish is my command!

Yang had to admit, she wasn’t really sure about you when the two of you first met.

You floundered every time someone talked to you, jumped at every little noise, and yet you came “Highly recommended” as a temporary replacement for Ruby while she was out with a cold.

She didn’t understand why, at least until the first time she saw you fight a pack of Grimm.

It was… efficient.

That way the only word Yang could think to describe the fight, if it could even be called that.

You cut ligaments and veins, snapped and crushed bone, tore limbs away from the body and as soon as one began to drop the next was being disassembled.

It was an exciting display.

But still, you could’ve left a few of them for her to show off on.

Oh well, it’ll have to wait until next time.

The next group of Grimm was almost instantly cut to ribbons.

The following one was ripped to shreds.

It was around here that you apologized for being so “Slow”.

At this, Yang felt like she should grab you by the collar and shake you like a stuffed toy.

Slow?

SLOW!?

This was you going SLOW!?

What the hell was fast then!?

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Needless to say, Yang took a bit of an interest in you after that.

And seeing as you weren’t really a part of your own team, Yang asked to have you as a +1 of sorts to team RWBY.

Things snowballed after that.

Somewhere down the line Yang’s interest in you turned to infatuation and then love.

That being said, your lack of faith in yourself made her want to throttle you sometimes.

You could shred through almost any Grimm with ease.

Yet, you called yourself a “Below third rate hunter”.

She didn’t know if she wanted to hug you or strangle you every time you said that.

Then again, she could probably do both if she put her mind to it…

Weiss had heard that you had immense talent, an almost unrivaled ability to disassemble Grimm into many small pieces in record time.

You had a reputation that precedes you, even Winter sang your praises as a prodigy.

Needless to say Weiss was excited when she was told that you would temporarily be joining team RWBY to cover for Ruby who ate herself into a food coma with cookies.

On one hand, she wanted to strangle the young woman.

On the other hand, she felt like giving her a hug and thanking her.

It was only when they were on the way that Weiss realized that she had no idea what to expect of you as a person.

Shortly following this realization, they arrived and were greeted by the single most frazzled and shaken creature that Weiss had ever laid eyes on.

Weiss was understandably concerned by this and asked where you were as you were supposed to be the one greeting them.

Imagine her surprise when she learned that this person who looked like they were going to shake apart at any second was the very person Winter had been singing the praises of, not to mention the same person she had been told held the current record for defeating a Grimm.

She was sure that this was some joke.

But before Weiss could properly express her indignation, everyone got to work.

Well, by everyone, Weiss means you got to work.

When the first Grimm made its appearance it was already falling to the ground in a heap of severed body parts by the time Weiss had drawn her sword.

She swore she would get the next one.

She did not get the next one, or the one after that, or the one following that one.

It infuriated her to no end.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

After this, Weiss made it her own personal mission to get to a Grimm before you did.

She got some… mixed results.

More specifically, she got to hit one, single Grimm before you obliterated it.

That was still better than she had managed to get throughout the entire day and as such, made her the person to get the second most done.

She was really wondering why in the world they hadn’t just sent you to do this on your own.

Then, when the whole expedition came to an end, you apologized for “Holding them back.”

That’s when it all clicked for Weiss.

The frazzled way you acted.

The fact you had barely said a word to anyone.

The apology.

You lacked faith in yourself.

Despite all of the talent you had, despite the fact you could dismantle a Grimm faster than the human eye could see.

You saw yourself as less than third rate.

Weiss felt a sudden kinship with you at this realization.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

After this, Weiss did her best to find a way to spend time with you, to try and get to know you.

It was an extremely difficult process, but slowly, eventually, she came to understand you.

And you came to understand her.

After that, things sort of happened between the two of you.

She, of course, was teased mercilessly by Ruby, Yang, and Blake when they found out.

They were lucky she was nice, otherwise she would have frozen them solid.

That and she was more concerned about you at the moment.

You managed to infuriate her to no end with the lack of faith you had in yourself.

She had done her best to try and get you to believe in yourself more but it was very, very slow going.

But that just meant she had to believe in you enough for the both of you.

When Nora met you for the first time, her first thought was “Wet cat”.

To be fair, at the time it was a very apt comparison as it was pouring rain and you had just returned from dealing with quite a few Grimm.

That being said, the two of you didn’t officially meet until the next afternoon.

Upon meeting you, she blurted out without any shame.

“You’re the wet cat person!”

Your only response to that was a meek “Fair.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

After this, you and Nora became fast friends.

Well, it's more like Nora just started showing up to chat with you and you didn’t really want to argue with her about it.

Something told you she was a very stubborn person.

Nora also, on occasion, brought her other friends.

It was during one of these occasions, that she learned that you were someone rather famous.

You were the person who could take down a Grimm in under a tenth of a second.

Nora had to admit, she couldn’t really see it.

To her you were a lot like a ball of yarn that was quickly unraveling.

Then again, she has been wrong before.

However, what you said in response to this caught her attention, knocking her out of her musing.

“I’m just a third rate hunter, no one special at all. I’m sure someone could do what I did a lot faster if they wanted to.”

This told Nora two things.

The first being that you actually were the current record holder for the fastest Hunter in training.

The second was that you downplayed yourself more than was healthy.

And seeing as you were a friend of hers, she didn’t particularly like that second part.

So, Nora cleared her schedule.

She was going to make you have more faith in yourself.

By any means necessary.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

It took a week before she was ready to either beat you over the head with her hammer or crush you in a hug and smother you in kisses.

How could someone so nice and awesome have so little faith in themself?

What in the world happened to make you like this?

She was going to hurt it.

That or put a rubber band on you and snapping it every time you said something self deprecating.

That or do both.

Both sounded good to Nora right now.

[cmyk-anaglyph-honeycomb]

Helluva Boss S2 E11

(this is mostly in order but not really. I have a lot of thoughts and its 1am) How did stella know about the 'break up' in the first place? Was she also at the party or did someone she know go? Did she hear it through the grapevine of imps she defiantly talks too? So that on the run shit was just for the trailer huh? Actually thought this was going to get interesting, my mistake. I should've known better. Luna being muzzled is decent world building on how she is just viewed as an animal. But also her character does so little outside of being blitzo's daughter or a hazard to Moxxie that she could have just been an actual dog with aggression issues. Why is Andrealphus focused on pointing the blame on Blitzo and not Stolas? The book was getting miss-used either way and Stolas was his actual aim, so why try to write him off? Also, why is he so against stolas. At this point it can't just be for Stella because it doesn't seem like he likes her. At this point I'm waiting for it to be a thing where Andrealphus arranged for Stella and Stolas's marriage to gain power from his family or something. He is putting in too much effort for it just to be out of pettiness. Who is Vassago and why is he here? Dude is a prop not a character. If Andrealphus (god I hate his name) would have just had Stolas on trial at first and the imps were just witnesses that would flow better. [sidenote: It could have been a thing where IMP would have greatly benefited from condemning stolas and Blitzo choses to tell the truth and cost to himself to help Stolas out. It would show stolas that Blitzo actually cared.] Not a fan of how the other deadly sins are just dropped on us without much fan fair. They were kinda the one thing I was looking forward too. It really felt like the musical part was crafted first and everything else was written around it. What was the point of satan singing about how he is the top boss and all that? No one was saying how they are the mastermind of hell or anything, just this one collection of bullshit. We get it big man, you're in charge. (Sidenote: I do like his design, its kinda basic for a satan character, but still good. I love his voice when speaking and singing. The song he sings is good, the point of it is not.) So there are zero stakes in this show. None. Kinda makes it hard to care about the outcome if everything has a soft ending. Stolas loses his powers, that we rarely see him use. He can't see his daughter, that we barely see him around. He loses nothing that we see him show any interest or care given too. Stella's evil smile means nothing either. She is a nothing character to make Stolas look better. At this point she shouldn't be in the show she does so little. Why was this trial about Andrealphus and not her? If stella was supposed to be this super evil and manipulative character why is she so far on the back burner for her own plan? Would have been a great time to have a woman character actually do something out of their own desire shitty or not, instead of just helping out some man but okay. Andrealphus should've just been Stolas's shit brother who wanted his power instead of wasting our time with Stella. *That's all I got in me for right now. Again its 1am after black friday and my ass works retail so I'm done thinking for now. Might come back to this later.*

[imaginesbymonika]

From the dining table | Part 8

Pairing: Damon Albarn × Gallagher! Reader

Plot: Everyone's favorite topic during the '90s and 'OOs; Y/N Gallagher. The mysterious and beautiful younger sister of the two loud brothers rarely spoke during interviews but played the guitar like no one else. And even though she never said a word about her dating-life, the list of her rumored boyfriends kept growing longer with each passing year. Yet, there was one name in particular that just kept on popping up...

Previous part | Masterlist

(1999)

Y/N stares at him from her spot at their table. The Marlboro cigarette between her fingers is burning down on its own. She lost interest in smoking a few minutes ago anyway. She couldn’t care less. Damon meanwhile is slowly swaying while singing into the microphone.

“Take me away from this big bad world and agree to marry me. So we can start over again.”, his smooth and delicate voice cracks while her upper lip twitches. He sings in a manner that’s almost identical to how he used to speak to her in their bedroom. Y/N hears how her two brothers are giggling at his mistake while she quickly licks her lips. Finally, she brings the nearly finished cigarette back up to her lips. She notices the ashes on the tablecloth and quickly wipes them away, leaving behind a black stain.

“Oh we can start over again.”

A pained sigh leaves her lips as she tries her best to clean up the mess she made, however, the more she moves her hand over the fabric the bigger the stain gets. This could be used as a metaphor in a song. She makes a mental note to talk to Noel about it later.

„Oh we can start over again.“

Damon has to be joking, right? There’s no fucking way in hell he’s meaning any of that shit. Maybe he didn’t even write it. A deep and hurt scoff leaves her lips. He never even picked up the phone when she made an effort to phone him. She wanted to make up. She didn’t want to fight. She wanted to tell him that she was more than okay to go public with him; screw her stupid brothers. They’re always out and cheating on their girlfriends anyway- what do they know about love? Nothing! That’s right. Nothing.

“Y/N?”, Liam asks and wrinkles his eyebrows. His eyes are observing her hand and he tilts his head in confusion. But the second he glances at her face and notices the tears in her eyes the smile on his lips fades away:” Shit, birdie. What’s wrong with ya?”

Y/N wants Damon. She wants him so bad, it physically crushes her. God, when she looks at him she can virtually see the claw marks she has left behind on his soul. But now, what difference would any declaration of truth make? His girlfriend is pregnant. You can’t turn back time.

(2024)

Y/N yawns while laying her head on her assistant's shoulder. It’s 4 am; their plane is leaving in 2 hours. As much as she adores London, she always misses the seaside the second she leaves it. “You want to grab breakfast on our way?”, Max asks and she looks up at the man with a smile on her face. “That’s why I pay you. God, you’re smart.” He only laughs at that.

“You can wait at the hall while I do the checkout.”, Max says while they both step out of the elevator. Y/N only nods while pulling her suitcase behind her.

“No, I am not leaving!” “Sir, please. You’ve been here since midnight. Don’t make us call the authorities!” “I don’t care, call ‘em. I am not leaving!”

Y/N wrinkles her forehead as she walks around the corner. Only to see Damon Albarn having a heated discussion with a staff member of the hotel. She stops dead in her tracks. What the fuck is he doing here?

Damon rolls his eyes and looks away. However, once he does he meets Y/N’s gaze. He instantly improves his posture “Sir?”, the woman in front of him asks but he merely shakes his head.

“I’ve found what I am looking for.”