#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.

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"Million Dollar Man"

Ok yall..... I know I said it was gonna be another chapter of "I bet on losing dogs" but @lilithquillete sent in an ask about Reader interacting with Harvey Dent and I couldn't help myself. This is the same AU as Older, and it's the prologue. Sorry if they dont make sense together butttt I couldn't stop myself, Hope yall like it!!!!

The Pink Pony Club was Gotham’s underbelly, dark, seedy, and full of people who either wanted to forget their past or embrace it. Jazz played faintly in the background, a vocalist crooning somewhere in the distance, as smoky air curled up toward the dimly lit ceiling. The dim lighting and murmur of conversation created a sense of anonymity. For you, this was heaven.

A place where you got on stage and no one knew you, your first taste of freedom outside your family. Here, you weren't Bruce Wayne's least favorite child nor were you the failed Batgirl or useless sister, here you were just you.

Your voice enchanted people and on stage in your heels, you were unstoppable.

Only a couple nights ago, you packed your things and walked out of Wayne Manor, as if the years of being part of that family never existed. It wasn’t just that Bruce and the others had been ignoring her for Tiffany all these years; it was the cruel realization that you was never important to them. Not like they were to each other.

You tried. You had given them everything. But Tiffany’s presence had overshadowed you since she came into the manor on your 14th birthday. It was as if you'd been erased, the little attention you got diverted and multiplied to someone who was more useful, more important.

You couldn’t even get a text from Duke anymore, let alone a casual chat with Dick or Tim. Forget about Damian or Jason, or any of the girls really.

So, you left. And now, you found yourself at the Pink Pony Club, a dive bar with no judgments, just an escape.

The club was packed tonight, filled with people who seemed to have their own agendas and distractions. You took a seat at the bar, watching the crowd. It was your first day off and you had nowhere else to go.

Tonight, you weren't singing, didn't want to be noticed, but Gotham had a way of drawing attention to its wounded.

You weren't sure what you were doing anymore. This was't you. You were never a party girl, you would never be caught dead in a place like this. Bruce would kill you, if he could look away from Tiffany long enough to see you here.

Maybe you were trying to spite you family. Maybe trying to drown the anger that simmered within you. Anger at the Batfamily, who had all but erased you from their lives. Anger at yourself, for allowing it to happen.

But mostly, the anger at Bruce. You had spent years trying to live up to his expectations, only to realize that Tiffany had took his love in a day.

But tonight, you weren't thinking about them. Tonight, you were here to forget.

As you sipped your drink, you noticed a familiar figure at the back of the room. Harvey Dent, the once-proud district attorney, now the infamous Two-Face, sat alone in a booth, nursing a drink. His face was partially scarred from the acid, and his expression, even now, looked like he carried the weight of Gotham's filth on his shoulders.

Selina Kyle, Cat Woman, Bruce's ex- lover who got you the job had mentioned he frequented the club. And if you were being honest, you couldn't help but be curious about him.

"Rough night, sweetheart?" a voice purred from beside you. Speak of the devil.

You didn’t even have to look to know who it was. You knew that voice too well. Selina Kyle. The only person who never treated you like a pawn or an afterthought. The only one who didn't care about the petty squabbles of Gotham's rich, the same Gotham she had spent most of her life trapped in. Your only friend in this god-forsaken city.

You half-turned in your chair, giving Selina a wry smile. “You have no idea.”

Selina perched herself next to you, crossing her arms, sizing up the tension on your face. "Let me guess. The Batfamily still ignoring you? Haven't even noticed you moved out? Too busy obsessing over the golden child?"

Your mouth twisted bitterly, but you said nothing, Selina always knew exactly how to get a rise out of you. Your eyes flickered toward the back of the bar again where Harvey Dent, still sat in the shadows, his burnt face half-hidden under his usual dark, grim expression.

Selina followed your gaze, the slight curve of her lips pulling into a mischievous smile. “You’re looking at him again, huh? You know, I never took you for the bad-boy type. Never thought you'd betray Superboy like that.”

"I'm not thinking of Clark tonight." You said, suddenly tense at the mention of your unrequited love.

A dark, playful smirk crossed your lips. You weren't looking for anything serious tonight. Just a distraction. And Harvey would be perfect for that.

Bruce would be pissed.

You slid off the stool and made your way toward the half-handsome man, the tension between them thickening as you approached. He looked up, his eyes scanning you for a moment before he smirked.

“Is there something I can help you with, sweetheart?” Harvey asked, his voice low and rough, the raspiness of his tone sending a jolt of heat through your chest.

You leaned against the table, crossing your arms. “Saw you sitting here all by yourself, thought maybe you could use some company.”

Harvey's lips curled into a dismissive grin, but his eyes were cold, calculating. “You think I need company?” His tone was sharp, sarcastic. “You're a little young for me, don't you think?”

You grinned, unbothered by his coldness. “A little age never hurt anyone, mind if I sit?” You asked, your voice dripping with feigned innocence as you slipped into the seat opposite Harvey. You could feel his sharp eyes on you, scanning your every movement, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he took a sip of his drink, his jaw tight.

“Sure, if you’re into wasting your time,” he said flatly, not even bothering to look up again.

Reader’s lips curled into a playful smile. “I don't think anything to do with someone like you is a waste.”

Harvey glanced up slowly, his sharp gaze scrutinizing you like a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. His eyes lingered on you for a beat too long, his lips tight with something unreadable. “You’re bold,” he remarked, his voice heavy with condescension.

You tilted your head, leaning against the back of the booth, watching him through half-lidded eyes, peering at him innocently through your lashes, “What, is that a problem?”

He didn’t answer immediately, taking a long sip of his drink, his eyes now trained on her lips before sliding up to meet her gaze again. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with, little girl.”

You didn’t flinch, though a hot flash of insecurity pierced through your facade. You’d had enough of people underestimating you. “Maybe, but i've always had a thing for lost causes.”

Harvey smirked, his expression a mix of arrogance and indifference. “I’m not exactly your type, kid. You want a pretty boy, go back to playing in your Batcave.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms and pushing out your chest. “Did you just call me a kid?”

Harvey’s lips thinned, and you could see his eyes momentarily flicker to your chest. All men were the same.. “That’s what you are, sweetheart. You’re out of your league, go home to daddy and stop trying to play with the big boys. You don't belong here.”

You let out a low chuckle, leaning in just a little closer. This was a challenge now, he thought he was too good for you, too strong to give in, you'd show him how convincing you could be. “You think so? I’m not the one sitting in a dark corner of a bar brooding. Seems like I’m doing just fine.”

Harvey’s eyes darkened, and the tension in the air thickened. He took another sip, this time with a little more force, the sound of the glass clinking against the table ringing out. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I don't really care.”

He smiled, sharp and predatory, "This won't play out in your favor. You think you're in charge here, you're not."

The words hung between you, charged with something dangerous.

For the next hour, you exchanged glances, words, and cold retorts, every time Harvey tried to shut you down, you would respond with something even more bold and charming, pulling him in. The man was harder to read than a stone wall, but you knew one thing for sure: the tension was building, the air crackling with the kind of heat that made your heart quicken.

Finally, Harvey broke, leaning forward and offering you a sardonic smile. “Alright. What’s your angle, sweetheart?”

You leaned in as well, matching his intensity, never backing down no matter how hard he tried to intimidate you. “Just here for a good time. You’ve got your secrets, I’ve got mine. But I think we could both use some fun. A way to let loose.”

Harvey’s jaw clenched, but the flicker of interest in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed. “You’re wasting your time. I’m not interested. ”

“Then why do you keep looking at me like that?” You shot back, your voice low, sharp, and breathy.

Harvey’s lips tightened again, the words bitter in his mouth. “Because you’re trouble, you're a mess. And trouble’s what I wanted tonight.”

The words stung, but you didn’t let it show. “Then we're on the same page.”

For a moment, his jaw tightened, his face betraying a flicker of frustration. He reached for his glass, swirling it absentmindedly before taking a long sip. Then, after a beat, he placed the glass down with a deliberate slowness, his eyes narrowing.

“I don’t have time for games, little girl. Why don’t you take your flirtations somewhere else?”

But there was something in his voice—something that cracked, a faint whisper of desire beneath the tough exterior. It didn’t go unnoticed.

“I don't want much,” You replied, your voice low, leaning in slightly, your noses almost touching. “Just tonight. A distraction.”

He smirked at that. “A distraction, huh? You think you can handle me?"

The words were slow, dangerous, suggestive. The tension between them had become thick, charged with the weight of things neither of them was willing to admit.

“Nothing permanent. Just... for tonight. What happens after doesn’t matter.” You'd never fall for someone like Harvey Dent.

Harvey's lips twisted, amusement in his eyes. “What would your daddy think?”

A week ago, that would've mattered. Back when your life revolved around him and his stupid family. But now? Now, it didn't matter, nothing mattered other than getting Harvey Dent in her bed tonight.

You chuckled darkly. “I'm a big girl now Harvey, I choose who my daddy is."

His gaze sharpened, his grin widened, and you could feel him moving under the table. “Really? Do you now? Does that mean I have to prove myself?" He said his Gotham accent coming out as he swiftly slid out the booth and began walking away, only glancing back at you once in a silent invitation.

The night bled into the morning as you found yourself in your bed alone, the only evidence of last night being your scattered clothes and the rumpled side of the bed that smelled of a deep, earthy cologne. Harvey, nowhere to be found, though you're sure he stayed the night.

You found a note on your nightstand with a number and a single red rose. You threw them both away.

The intensity of the night, of Harvey’s dangerous allure, his cold, hard demeanor that eventually gave way to something more primal; had left you breathless. You hadn’t exchanged any promises, but there was no mistaking the way he’d looked at you afterward. There was an intensity that had simmered between the two of you, a powerful connection of mutual darkness.

Later that day, as you met up with Selina to apologize for ditching her last night, you couldn't help but notice the sly smile on Selina's face.

"So, how was it? Life altering? Mind numbing?" Selina asked innocently, but her voice had a knowing tone.

“Fun,” you replied smirking, “Just what I needed. No strings attached.”

Selina raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because I heard Harvey’s been looking for you. Asking around. Seems like you’ve left an impression on him. He's not the type to give up.”

Your chest tightened, but you pushed the feeling down. “He was just a distraction. That’s all. i just needed to forget Clark for the night.”

Selina knew of your childhood crush, she was the first you told. You approached her as an awkward, chubby 13 year old, asking how to make Superman your boyfriend.

Selina smirked, clearly unconvinced. “You tell yourself that. But I think Harvey’s not done with you just yet.”

You shrugged, "I'm done with him."

Selina faltered, her mischief giving way to concern, "I'm serious. You need to be more careful, men like that, men like Harvey Dent, they don't take kindly to being ignored."

As the days passed, you felt the weight of your choices, of the things you’d told yourself you could leave behind. And yet, you couldn't help but feel the pull of Harvey’s gaze every time you closed your eyes and went home with a different guy.

You were still angry at the Batfamily, still haunted by the echoes of Tiffany’s presence, but now there was something else. Something dangerous, something that wasn’t just about anger anymore.

A few nights had passed since the night with Harvey. You found yourself with a strange feeling, lingering like smoke on your skin. Like someone was watching you, following you.

It started with small things, when you sang at the club, you could feel his eyes on you. When you flirted with customers and they didn't look you in the eye anymore. When even your charms and seduction couldn't pull anyone in, Harvey was trying to put you in a dry spell. Punish you for ignoring him.

A week after the night, you came home from the club to your apartment exhausted and what you saw shocked you. Dozens of red roses were in your living room and kitchen, with notes and pictures attached to each boquet. Everyday you ignored him, your apartment would be flooded with red roses, by the 4th day you were sure there were no more red roses in Gotham. You would read the notes, each day a different one, more vague and kind of threatening.

“I see you every night, whether you want me to or not. - H”

“You think I’m going to give up? Not when I’m this close. - H.”

“You can’t hide from me. I’ll always find you. - H.”

You rolls your eyes, but can’t stop the flicker of something—danger, excitement, anticipation—from flashing through you. The usual defiance is still there, but now it has a slight edge. It’s hard not to feel compelled by his power, and you pick up a card that has his number on it, and you call.

Two months. Thats how long you've been something to Harvey Dent.

Since that night you called him, you've seen Harvey Dent everyday for two months. You either saw him at the club, he never missed out on watching you sing, or at your apartment, or he'd wisk you away for a candle light dinner. The only exception of his constant attention was the two weeks you were sick, and even then he called you and sent you flowers.

Thats why when he started getting distant it hurt, you were in love with him.

Like a fool, you fell for Harvey "Two-Face" Dent.

You wrote songs for him, stayed up on the phone talking to him, baked him cookies and cakes, you didn't care about his scars or his mood swings, you put up with his sometimes hurtful comments because you could feel his love for you.

It was in the little things. Little displays of affection like knowing how you liked your coffee, your favorite fruit, how he would play your favorite movie whenever you were down and watch stupid rom-coms all night, without complaint. How he would laugh at all your stupid jokes and help you with the dishes.

Everything changed when Selina dropped a bombshell. You were just finishing your shift at the Pink Pony when Selina came up to you, leaning against the bar, a rare seriousness in her voice.

“I'm sorry. I didn't want to have to tell you this” Selina said, looking at you with eyes full of love and concern. “But I think you need to know . You’re not the only one Harvey’s been after.”

You froze, heart dropping to your feet. “What are you talking about?” You asked, chuckling at the unfunny joke, Harvey would never. He loves you.

Selina’s gaze shifted toward the back of the club, where Tiffany fucking Wayne, was standing at the bar with Harvey. The way she leaned into him, the flirtatious, familiar touch on his arm, made your heart drop. That was all the proof you needed.

“When you lost your voice last month, Tiffany came here every night, working him over. She’s been coming in, feeling him, and leaving with him. She’s been playing him like a violin. And he's been two-timing you.”

Your stomach twisted. Tiffany. Your “sister”, the girl who always took everything from you, the girl who you cried to him about, who you told him stole everything from you, stole him too. The image of Tiffany and Harvey together was enough to break something inside you.

Your voice cracked. “I... he... he was mine.”

Selina raised an eyebrow, sympathy in her eyes. “I’m sorry. You know Harvey’s not the only one she’s after. She’s always tried to steal everything from you. She’s always been good at that.”

It hit you harder than you wanted to admit. Tiffany had taken Harvey, too. she wasn’t stealing brothers or sisters from you; she was taking the one place where you had ever felt wanted.

He loved you, at some point, you were sure. But could love be so easily swayed?

Before she came and stole him like she stole everything else in your life, Harvey Dent loved you

In the two weeks you were sick, Tiffany Maverick stole the one man who loved you.

The next night at the club, the weight of Selina’s words followed you like a shadow. You stepped onto the stage, singing as best as you could, but the usual thrill was gone. Tiffany was there again, standing too close to Harvey. Every laugh they shared, every touch, was like a knife to your chest.

You couldn’t help but notice how Harvey had changed. The way he looked at you now felt different—distant, colder. There was no longer that spark of attraction, just the lingering sense that something had shifted. That someone else had taken hyourplace.

Tiffany had won. Again.

You finished your set and stepped off the stage, throat tight. You caught Harvey’s eye as he turned toward you, but there was no warmth or love in his gaze, like there was two weeks ago, only disappointment. He was looking at you like you were just another face in the crowd.

You couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t stay. It wasn’t just the loss of Harvey—it was the realization that Tiffany had taken your spot in their world.

Her betrayal felt too familiar, like an old wound that never healed. It wasn't enough for her to have your family, she wanted everything.

That night you quit the club and broke your lease to your apartment. You wouldn't let Tiffany or Two Face run you out of Gotham, out of your city, but you couldn't stay where you and him shared all your memories.

You would forget about him. You would never mention Harvey Dent again, you would never even think of him again. Nor would you acknowledge that he was the first man that loved you. Harvey Dent did not exist anymore.

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 21

Batsis needs a vacation but someone else will start working on making her consider it behind the scenes😇

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 21 >>next

“It’s crooked.” Mark looked at the pillar he placed down before looking back at you. “Nuh-uh.” You give him a look. “The fuck you mean nuh-uh? Look at it- it’s leaning to the right.” Mark just nudged it to sit straight with his foot. “Nuh-uh, it doesn’t.” The blank stare you gave him made his neutral expression break for a second, amusement making his lip twitch. “Markus. Do not play with me right now.” At your empty threat, he simply laughs.

Your attention was brought over to Andressa and Nolan who were calling you two over. “We’ve completed a ship to take you home.” Andressa said while handing the baby over to you as Nolan placed a hand on your shoulder. ”I’ll miss you two greatly, make sure to visit.” Your eyebrow raised at his words. “You’re coming with us.”

The statement was met with a confused what from both men. “And our son will go with you.” Andressa continued. She also was met with the same shock and confusion. “It’s time you all returned to Earth. Don’t argue with me, Nolan. Each week I’m aging more and more. By the time our son will speak his first words, I’ll be long gone.” Her hands move to caress both Nolan and her son. “You two are so special to me, but my life will run its course far faster than either of yours. I’d feel terrible keeping you here for another month just to have you leave when I’m gone.”

“But the government- Debbie-“ Nolan’s stuttered confusion was met with a smile from the two women present. “We conspired behind your back.” You shrug. “Lawyers have already been contacted, Cecil’s on our side, for now at least, and will push everyone finding out about you for a while, and mom knows. About everything.” You nod towards Andressa, who simply smiles brighter at the silence of the two men. “I had to know what type of woman would raise my baby. You chose well.”

Nolan and Mark looked at each other, both trying to process what just happened. “You’ll be stuck on feeding and diaper change duties, by the way. Think of it as your start towards paying for your crimes.” You nudge your father before boarding the ship. “I told you I’ll make sure you repent for what you did.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“I can’t believe you put us through a week of spaceship travel just to see dad change diapers and feed the baby.” Your dearest brother nudges into your mind. “Was it not fun to see him panic, fail, and look so betrayed when we wouldn’t help?” Mark huffs as he opens the front door. “Fair.”

You, Mark, and your baby brother walked in just fine, no problems, but as soon as Nolan stepped in he was met with a pan to his face, the body of it slightly molding to his face. “Huh. You were right.” Debbie’s voice was heard, making Nolan’s half-asleep mind go out of fight instinct. “I do feel better after hitting him.”

You just smiled while kissing your mom’s cheek, leaning into her hug as Mark joined. “My babies.”  She almost sings while squeezing you both, being mindful not to squeeze the baby too tight. While Mark pulled away sooner, you still lingered, only moving when your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a message. “Oh, sorry mom. I have to go. I promised to see Talia as soon as I got back.”

She doesn’t take your littlest brother when you try to move him from your wrap carrier. “No. You should take Oliver with you, too.” Marks raised an eyebrow. “Oliver? You already named him? And after grandpa, too?” Debbie just shrugs. “We can’t call him baby. And I’m not letting your father name him like he named you, Markus. You should go too. I’m sure Amber misses you.” Locking eyes, you two immediately got the memo, so while Mark flew upstairs to change and go out the window, you quickly put an illusion spell on Oliver, his purple skin changing to a more human tone, and flew out of the house too.

“Debbie-“ Nolan started but his wife wasn’t having any of it. “I don’t care, Nolan. I really don’t. I’ve realized my life can go on without you. I don’t need you to help me raise my kids, I don’t need you to make me feel good about myself. I don’t need you. Period.” The woman crosses her arms. “But I can’t protect our kids in the same way you can. That’s the only reason I let you back into my house.”

“Cecil may be willing to help now, but I don’t trust him. There have been whispers of the Guardians having an inner war, whispers of the Justice Leagues doing something behind the government's back, which isn’t new, but Lois has been awkward with me lately, especially when the two B’s are brought up. She gets this guilty look. She’s keeping something from me.” The viltrumite’s muscles tensed at the mere mention of the bat. “He’s planning something, they all are, and I can’t do what you do.”

“You won’t have to.” Nolan reassures, hands itching to wrap around her, to soothe her worries. “I’ll deal with that. With everything… But we really should talk about us.” Debbie just sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. “We… should.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Mother. I beg of you to stop.” Damian complained as Talia ran her hand through his hair, the tips of her fingers caressing his temple. “No. I’m your mother, and I have missed you.” The youngest bat sighs at his mother’s antics. “And stop fidgeting, she won’t bite your head off.” Her teasing is only met with a glare.

“I don’t know. Mom says she likes to bite people.” Jon shrugs, not noticing his friend tensing up. Talia’s chuckle is soft as she finally pulls her hand away from her son’s hair. “I said she won’t bite his head off. I never said she won’t bite.” The teasing only made Damian more nervous, his nostrils flaring, eye twitching.

“Stop scaring the kids, Talia. I don’t bite… Hard.” Your toothy smile didn’t ease Damian, who had stood up as soon as he heard your voice. Putting the fact that he hasn’t noticed you, burying it at the back of his head as a matter of fact, it was strange to see you without your costume. “I see we both brought our kids with us.” You smile at the two boys while introducing yourself and sitting down across the other woman.

“Is that yours?” Damian didn’t even introduce himself, his eyes were fixated on the dark-haired baby, already making plans on how to eliminate the alleged father. Jon cringed at the chosen words, kicking Damian’s shin gently. “Oh, no. I should have worded that better.”

You smile brightly as you ruffle the baby’s hair, messing it up even more. “This is my baby brother, Oliver. He got adopted recently, and mom needed a break, so he’s stuck with me.” This is so much worse. Damian would have preferred a nephew over a rival to the title of little brother. Talia took over as her boy was processing everything. “Well, they are having a school trip. This is Jon Kent, my son’s friend. And this is-“

“Damian al Ghul, my mother speaks highly of you. Nice to meet you.” His hand extended for a shake as he spoke. Talia’s face remained unmoving, but he could feel hers and Jon’s disapproving look. He chose to ignore it. “Nice to meet you, too.” Your constant smile eased his nerves, sitting back down while Jon greeted you as well. You took the other boy’s shaky smile as him being shy. Lois mentioned that once. “Oh, thank you for keeping my mom active and not letting her drown in all this mess, Talia- ”

The voice of Cecil ringing through your earpiece made you stop talking, giving the boys and the woman an apologetic smile as you started speaking to the old man. “Can’t this wait-… Look, I know you’re worried or whatever-…” You sigh, rubbing at your forehead. “What about Mark?... Alright. Fine, I’ll see you there.”

“You barely got back and are off to save the world again, huh?” Talia’s joking is met with a sad smile. “Sorry- I really have to help with this one-“ Damian quickly jumped at the opportunity. “We can help.” His words were met with a confused look from both women, but Jon saved him. “With the baby! We can help with the baby! I- I’ve babysat before, and we have an adult- I mean, you can’t just leave Ollie with your mom since she needed a break-“

While Jon kept on talking, your eyes met Talia’s, who smiled reassuringly at you. “We can take care of him. Don’t worry. We can go straight to my apartment. I’ll send you the address, and you can come and pick him up when you’re done.” You relent, letting Talia grab Oliver while you untie the wrap and hand it over, too. “Oh, here’s a jar of some food for him- he’s picky. And this is a gift for you.” You set on the table, next to the jar, a Thraxan flower encased in a clear quarts. “The quarts is magically made. It’s supposed to keep it from rotting and withering.” You shrug. “I remember you mentioning you miss your garden, and I sure miss mine. So, while this isn’t a garden, it’s something that you can carry around wherever you go. And I’m sorry to you both, if I knew, I would have gotten you two something as well-“

“Love. Thank you for the gift, but you’re rambling. Go before I decide to keep you too.” You pouted at her teasing. With one final goodbye and a kiss to Oliver’s hair, you left. Damian huffed at the baby, who looked at him before his mug scrunched up, burying his crying face in Talia’s shoulder. The scowl on Damian’s face only got bigger as Jon scolded him for glaring at a baby.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Getting stuck in such a small space with the Immortal was making you crazy, especially as he kept staring at you like a guilty pup. To say you were pissed was- sigh. Your nerves were still up, the League doing jack shit, the legal shit that the whole family was preparing for, and now this. “What?!” You snapped once he opened his mouth and closed it for the hundredth time, interrupting Eve’s and Mark’s shitty dad talk. The Immortal froze, his eyes looking around as everyone in the spaceship looked at them.

Black Samson took pity on him, mouthing “I’m sorry” to the man, pointing to Mark as well. “I- I’m… sorry. For what I said about both of you. It was uncalled for and out of misplaced anger.” Mark smirked at the man, unable to stop the words from coming out. “That sounds like you’ve been to therapy.”

“I have been. What your father did had nothing to do with any of you. You were just the closest thing to getting what I wanted. It was wrong of me to say that you both were ticking bombs. It took a while, but it made me realize that I haven’t been okay since… I’m sorry.” You finally turned from the screens of the spaceship to face the man. “Then you better act like it. Your apology is appreciated, but it’ll mean nothing if you act like we’re the enemy. There are bigger things to worry about.”

While The Immortal walked closer to you and started interrogating Shapesmith, Amanda leaned closer to Mark. “Are you sure they didn’t date?” Her whisper brought the attention of Samson, Bulletproof, and Eve, too, their eyes following how Mark leaned in closer, his smile dropping. “If he did… I’ll kill him.” Invincible brought his easy-going smile back up, moving away into his original position, ignoring the shocked looks. Zandale, despite the look he threw to Mark, brushed his words off as him being an overprotective brother.

“So what are we supposed to do now?” Your voice brought everyone’s attention back to the actual conversation. “Shapesmith...?” The worried tone in Rudy’s voice immediately made you look back at the screens. “Yes, those. Look. Th-Those are the missiles I was talking about.” Mark’s head snaps to the Martian. “Missiles?! Don't we have shields or something”

“This isn't Star Trek. We're unarmed.” Robot furrowed his brows at Mark’s question. “Everyone, close to me. Now!” Eve was quick to act once everyone was in range by creating a bubble around them. You sigh as everyone started talking over each other. “Can’t you teleport us inside?” Monster Girl groaned, making everyone that didn’t know question that. “No. I don’t know how the inside of the ship looks like. I could open a portal in the middle of an army of Martians, in the middle of a- a vat of acid or a garbage disposal-“

“Alright, everyone who can fly push towards the ship. I have a plan.” Eve cuts through, and everyone listens. Changing the atoms on such a delicate scale was quite hard, but walking right in the middle of rebel Martians was a better option than the middle of an acid vat or being immediately crushed and minced to hell.

“I bet the others are having a better day.” Amanda mumbled to you as soon as Zandale crushed the parasite, and the rumbling of the army of mid-controlling jellyfish coming for them could be heard. “Don’t jinx it. Everyone’s luck has been shit lately.” You sigh, preparing for the fight that’s about to come.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Master Bruce?” Alfred turned towards the tired man. “It’s for you- You should hear this.” The butler insisted, handing over the landline phone. Bruce sighed but took it from the old man. “This is Bruce Wayne.” The voice of Damian’s art teacher immediately made Bruce tense, thinking of the worst. The more the woman spoke, the more his worry turned to anger. “Thank you, Miss Jackson. It’s great to hear how much Damian has been missed.” His eye twitched. “And no worries- he’ll be back by next week. Oh- How is the school trip to Chicago going? He’s been muttering about it for a while bit.”

“School trip to- On, no. The poor thing is sicker than I thought. There are no school trips this semester, Mr. Wayne.” Bruce didn’t quite hear what she said after, his grip on the phone almost crushing it. This year was getting worse and worse. “Thank you again, Ms. Jackson. I may just have to take the boy to Chicago myself. He’s been such a good student and kid- he deserves it.”

He kept the act up, dropping his smile only when the call ended. Chicago. His son lied to him, lied to Alfred, lied to the school, to go on his own to Chicago. Why would he? The only thing happening there is-… The only things he could have gone there for are his sister and- … His sister and the Sorceress… The- his… no. There’s no way- Bruce stormed out of his office straight for the Batcave, ignoring Alfred completely. No. There was no way. Is that why she left? No- she couldn’t be-

Bruce almost squished Tim, the young man barely escaping the storming man. Bruce didn’t answer Tim’s questions, his fingers moving across the keyboard faster than they ever did. Age progression photos are subject to error. They are informed predictions, not set in stone stuff- but the more the man worked on it, creating three variations, one more leaning to his features, one leaning towards her mom’s, and the other a mix of them both- the more his heart dropped into his gut.

Once the photos were done, Tim brought up the maskless face of the Sorceress, straight from her social media. “I fucking knew it…” Red Robin growled. “That little demonic brat- He deleted the footage! I knew it!” The young man opened a slightly corrupted file he barely managed to recover, but the image of the Sorceress was as clear as it gets. “Can’t believe the fuckers went through my stuff.”

Bruce dropped into the chair. His child, his daughter, was the Sorceress. The Killer of the Joker. The kid Omni-Man had taken in and probably raised as a soldier. “Damian knew! He knew! That’s why-“ Bruce just sighs. “I know…” He had a lot of phone calls to make. Starting with Jason and the Kents.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Can’t hold it-“ Eve’s grunt made you act as quick as you could. “Pots eht setisarap ni emit dna ecaps!” The surge of magic that stopped the parasites, leaving them unmoving, left you slightly drained. You groaned as your feet touched the ground. “Hurry up- that won’t stop them for long.” Bulletproof looked at you, voice shaking as he asked how you did that. “Magic. Keep killing.”

The break gave Eve some time to regain some strength and gave Robot enough time to finish while the others did their best to level the field. “Could you make a shield if the spell you did wears off?” You cringed at the question. “I- maybe? I don’t know any specific spell for them, so I’d have to be quite careful with the wording if I go the on-the-spot route.” You shrug. “Done! Get this close to Russ and then press the button!” Robot held the device above his head, letting go when Mark grabbed it. And just in time for the spell to come undone.

The parasites squealed as the transmission was heard from the main host. “Alright, let’s grab the guy and leave-“ Your groaning was cut short as the Martian leader burst through the doors with his army.  “ Halt! You saved us from the sequids, and for that we are grateful.” The alien stated. “Yeah, you're welcome. Uh, look, we got to go-” Mark was interrupted by the leader.“But we cannot permit you to leave with the great betrayer. This is all his doing.” Shapesmith’s eyes met the leader’s. “You must remain here for punishment.” Marks sighs as you groan. “ What kind of punishment?” The answer was simple. Death. Your eyes meet Mark’s. “We understand.” You both said, nodding solemnly... And then you grabbed Amanda and Rudy while Mark grabbed the astronaut and Shapesmith. “Fly!”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The noise of everyone arguing only worsened your headache, your eyes fixating on the screen of the ship… Should be good enough. “ Srekcatta og kcab emoh.” With the spell finalized, the other Martian ships stopped and returned back. “That… works.” The Immortal hummed. “You’re speaking backward. I didn’t catch that before.” Robot turned to look at you. “Yep. It’s a form of magic Zatanna taught me. It’s harder than other forms of magic for me due to actively having to think about it… Zee makes it look so easy.”

“You met the Zatanna Zatara?!” Both Eve and Amanda seemed to geek out at the newfound information. “Yeah, she trains me sometimes. Mainly when John’s too lazy.” You shrug. “Dude, what is your life?” Amanda laughs. “A mess-“ you whined, leaning your head against the closest person.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You slowly entered Talia’s apartment through the open window, immediately being met with the image of an unimpressed Talia, a terrified Jon, a Damian who seemed ready to crash out, and a purple Oliver giggling. “We are so sorry!” Jon jumped in as soon as he saw you. “We swear this just happened- one second he was ok and then he just turned purple-“

“Take a breath, hon’.” You put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “He’s an alien, we’re trying to keep it low profile. The purple is his original color, what you saw before is an illusion. You did nothing wrong.” The teen immediately relaxed. “Oh thank god-“ He slumped down next to Damian. “You look tired.”  Talia spoke, moving Oliver higher on her hip. “I am.” You whine making grabby hands at Oliver. “Stay the night. I do not trust you to fly with a baby.” You pouted. “Talia, that’s real kind of you, but-“

“Are you really willing to risk the safety of your little brother?" Damian’s words were met with a half-hearted glare. “He truly is your son. Just as manipulative.” Talia laughed at your words, knowing they’d won this one as soon as you pulled out your phone to let your mom know.

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Chapter 22 sneak peek:

“Jason..?” Roy drawled out softly. “Are you okay? Have you taken too much of Scarecrow's gas, again?” Jason turned his head towards the man, grinning widely. “This may top Joker’s death.” Roy just sat up after processing it for a bit. “Okay… I’ll go get Selina… and maybe Harley too. You just- stay put, okay, buddy?”

[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.

[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

[breakindishesinaelevator]

Get Hexed! Part One

Invincible (Mark Grayson) x Jinx!Reader

————————————————————————————

————————————————————————————

soooo yeah this’ll be HEAVILY inspired by jinx and her past and her mentality and whatnot

yes things will be different, yes therell be different scenes, yes the characters will have different names

yes this will be in parts cuz i write too much

yes my english is my worst subject so if its sucky please bear with me or just tell me straight up if this is ass i can take it

yes there will be zaun but imagine it is just downtown baltimore or something like where titan is from but everyone will refer to it as zaun bleh bleh bleh

——————————————————————

Sounds of laughter is in the air. Children running rampant at the park. It’s a small park but you know how kids are. Their imagination knows no bounds. Hell, they could have a piece of cardboard and make whatever kind of game out of it.

Wait, off track.

Anyways, back to the park.

Some little guy is running around, playing with the other kids. He's a cute little guy. Jet black hair and dark brown eyes. See that little tooth gap? Yeah, this kid is adorable.

Oh- oh! Um, did he just fall?

"Mark! Be careful!"

Presumably, his mother called out. She's currently cuddling up on the bench with her, what looks to be, husband.

"I will Mom!"

The kid, now known as Mark, shouted back, as he ran back to play with some random little girl. She was small, frail like a twig. Does she eat at home? Actually, where are her parents? Is she here alone?

"Anyways, back to what I was saying. I was cleaning up the house and found these weird little rock things." The woman went back to talking about her job to her husband. Sighing, she continued, "I'm guessing the guy who sold the house left them behind, and I tried to contact him using the number he left with me in case there were some things wrong with the house... for some reason though, the number didn't even work."

She shrugged her shoulders, waiting for some kind of input from her husband. Nolan hummed in thought, stroked his mustache, and then said, "Did he leave any other form of contact with you? Email? Emergency contacts?"

She shook her head, "No, none at all. Those rocks also looked super exotic." She giggled and nudged his arm, "Maybe we could sell them for a pretty penny. Or they could be a cute decoration for the house!"

Debbie was enjoying her time in the park with her family. The sky was clear, flowers were blooming, the birds were singing... Unbeknownst to her, there was an extra pair of ears listening to their conversation.

It was a girl. She looked maybe in her early teens, rugged, oh gosh- are her clothes burnt? And what's up with those bandages on her arms?

"[Name] let's go."

She stepped up, calling for the random girl who was playing with Mark.

"Awh, already? I was having fun..."

[Name] was pouting, not making any moves to get up, still building some kind of lodge out of sticks with Mark.

"Come on. Let's go. He's waiting for us."

The older girl got more insistent on leaving. Moving towards [Name], and grabbing onto her arm.

"Awh..."

[Name] getting pulled up by the older girl, she looked back behind her shoulder and waved to Mark.

"Bye Mark! Let's play another time!"

"Oh- Bye! ...I guess..."

Mark stands up and walks back over to his parents.

"I'm ready to go home now..."

He sighs and sulks, sad that his friend left already.

"Already? Why don't you play with the other kids honey?"

Debbie stroked his hair, placing a kiss on his forehead.

"I don't wanna play with the other kids... My friend left already..."

"Oh, Mark..."

Debbie clicked her tongue in thought. Turning to Nolan, who shrugged his shoulders. She sighs, turning back to Mark, outstretching her hand for him to hold as she gets up.

"Alright then, let's go home."

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

The two girls meet up with two boys in an alley.

The taller boy, buzzcut hair, steamer goggles, shirts layered on him (seriously how many shirts is he wearing), and way too long pants, steps forward to greet the two, but he’s cut off from the shorter boy who is accompanying him.

The shorter boy, matted hair, shirt that is HUGE a little too big on him, charred pants, and torn up shoes (YOU CAN LITERALLY SEE HIS TOE POKING OUT), pushes past the taller boy and scoffs at the two walking up.

"Jeez. Took you long enough!"

"Shut up Nile.”

The older girl pushes past him, walking to the now open sewer hole.

"I got a tip on the next place we'll hit. I'll give more information when we get home. Now come on."

Nile groans and stands at the entrance of the sewer.

"Can one of you go first this time? I need to smell good at the very least 'cause your boy- Ahhhh!"

Nile gets pushed in face-first, Mokkur goes next, leaving you and Indie outside. You look up at your older sister with an unreadable expression before hopping in and sliding down, followed by your older sister who closes the entrance behind all of you.

—————————————————————

grrrr i hope this was okay

[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!

[yourbasicqueerie]

I had a lovely litlle anon ask me to make more Lilia head a on a about 3 months ago, and though I can't seem to find them, I have indeed made more headcanons just for them!! Here u go my loveeee

Lilia Calderu headcanons pt. 2:

(ignoring character deaths like it is my job btw, EVERYONES ALIVE IDGAF)

- she makes the best homemade tea blends in the whole state of new jersey. Lovessss a little cinnamon blend.

- LOUSY drunk, she sings, sits on laps and overall gets very red cheeks and bosoms. the whole coven was caught staring one eventful evening.

- she isn't a necessarily messy person, but very spacious nonetheless. i think everyone has found something of lilia's together with their stuff more than once by the time they reach one month post road.

- by the way, they did eventually all mov run close together, or at the same house. this isn’t even a  headcanon it’s my reality.

- when they got out of the road, lilia grabbed whatever was left of jen’s dress and tailored it again for her. it has become the baldies fave dress.

- after coming back, lilia was sheepish regarding blades. you can call it bad flashbacks or trauma, but in any case she obliged teen to help her out in the kitchen by cutting up little herbs or skinning chickens, it became their thing and now every saturday they meet up and make lunch together, all while gossiping.

- surprisingly keen to math, not so keen on paying rent on time.

- taking about time, that’s a fenômenos she has yet to get a full grasp on, even as a kid her mentor always scolded her for being late.

- will drink rose as if it’s a day job

- she crocheted senor scratchy a hat he insisted on chewing on.

- i said this before but ill say it again. contrary to popular opinion, her favorite color is not yellow, but orange.

- loves to indulge in different perfumes, she and jen bonded on about that even though lilia’s much more of a woodsy citrusy woman and jen likes floral and fresh.

- lilia has tried to read all of the covens fortunes more than once. she eventually gave up on rio because every single time she pulled the first card, no matter the question, it was death who came first.

- polyglot lilia calderu you are so dearly important to me!!!!!! it’s a necessity for me that you all understand just how many languages that woman speaks.

- she has mastered english, italian, sicilian, arabic and french through her walks in life.

- she is a judging whore when it comes to popular today music. i just KNOW she hums to ornella vanoni and gaelic hymns under her breath at all times.

- loves to spend all her money on pretty flowers down at the flower market. they all dye within 2 to 3 business days though. 

- she CANNOT drive to save a soul. its passenger princess life or no life for her.

[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

[ddivilove]

─────── 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!

[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.