#but nope. another bullshit thing had to happen

[questinwitchface]

Just when I was finally getting back to writing, my laptop malfunctioned. Did not get the chance to back up everything so hopefully it's fixable. I'm being very brave about this.

[cressidagrey]

You are the best thing that's ever been mine - Part 5

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ariel Cane (Original Character)

Summary: Sao Paulo 2024. The Dutchman delivered a defining drive…but maybe there is a relationship that could also use some defining. 

Warnings: Jos Verstappen, angst, crying, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation

Author Notes: Hi, hey, hello! Apparently I write F1 Fanfiction now?! Also this is the first time I am trying a social media au so my Canva Skills were put to the test. (Disclaimer: I kinda put legibility over authencity, so twitter doesn't look like twitter and messages looks like...something) Also huge thanks to @onebigfangirlworld and @leodette for holding my hand with this 😘)

“There are two more things we need to talk about,” Gemma said carefully.

She didn’t want to talk about more. Quite frankly, all Ariel wanted was to hug Max tightly. He had this unreadable expression on his face that told her that a storm was raging inside him, something they had only scratched the surface off. 

She had never wanted to make him choose between her and his father…but this was what had happened regardless. 

Hadn’t this been enough?

“First of all, do you want to give out a statement?” Gemma asked Max.

Max's expression darkened at the question, his jaw clenching a little. ”I don’t think it’s a question of what I want,” Max gave back. 

She agreed. 

Whatever Max said would be all over the media in no time…but saying nothing at all…wouldn’t go over well. The media would spin it into something worse. 

Max would look like he didn't care, like he was trying to hide something, even when she knew the truth. 

He sighed in irritation. "What do you suggest?" he asked Gemma. 

Gemma seemed to understand his hesitation and frustration. 

She sat up a little straighter in her seat, her expression professional.

“The press will know if you try to bullshit them,” she said drily. “Go with the truth. It was a completely inappropriate incident. And you ask for privacy at this time. Nothing too concrete.”

Max let out an annoyed huff, but nodded slowly.

"Yeah, let's go with that," he said in a resigned tone. "The last thing we need is the media speculating and starting another rumor."

Ariel sat quietly, still leaning against Max's chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

She could hear the irritation in his voice, could feel the tension in him as he talked to Gemma about their next course of action.

She couldn't help but feel guilty that he was in this situation because of her. Because of what had happened earlier. She hated that he had to be dealing with this mess instead of enjoying the win he deserved.

“They are still running with the pregnancy…speculation,” Gemma said. “I need to know…Is it true? Is Ariel pregnant?”

This whole pregnancy question was a ridiculous thing to ask, but she understood why Gemma had brought it up.

She was trying to cover all the bases, to make sure that there weren't any unexpected surprises that could make the media circus even bigger.

“Nope,” Azriel said drily popping the p. 

“Are you…sure?” Gemma pressed carefully. 

Ariel suppressed a snort at Gemma's skeptical look. "I'm absolutely sure," she confirmed, her tone firm. She could sense the disbelief in Gemma's question, and she couldn't help but add with a hint of humor, "I've been celibate for the past year, so there's absolutely no chance that I'm pregnant. None whatsoever."

Now Gemma stared at her like she was insane. 

“You want to tell me that the two of you haven’t…” Gemma said carefully.

“Gemma, for fuck’s sake, we haven’t even kissed!” Max snapped. Ariel couldn't help but laugh softly at Max's blunt response.

She could see the skepticism on Gemma's face, the disbelief that she still wasn't fully convinced. And she couldn't help but smirk a little.

“Just for the record, we figured things out 3 hours ago,” Max said drily.

Ariel had to suppress a laugh at Max's dry statement.

Three hours.

They had figured things out and confessed their feelings for each other, and here they were, dealing with the media fallout and questions about pregnancies.

She couldn't help but find the whole situation slightly absurd and amusing. It was just a perfect example of how ridiculous the media could be sometimes. 

One minute, they were obsessed with every little detail of her relationship with Max, and the next, they were asking if she was pregnant, even though they hadn't even had sex yet.

Ariel felt Max's arm tighten around her a little, and she knew he was probably thinking the same thing.But amidst all the absurdity and the media frenzy, one thing was clear to her.

She and Max had finally taken that crucial step, confessed their feelings to each other.

She felt warm, safe, and loved in his embrace. He was her rock, her pillar of strength.

She didn't care about the media, about their questions or speculations. Not when she had Max by her side.

Ariel leaned into his chest a little more, her body fitting perfectly in his arms. She could feel the warmth of his chest against her side, could hear his steady heartbeat.

Ariel knew they were in for a bumpy ride, especially with the media. They would be all over them, asking questions and speculating about every little detail.

But she didn't care. As long as she had Max, as long as they were together, they could weather any storm.

She felt Max's hand move, gently caressing her shoulder, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. She looked up at him, a small, tender smile playing on her lips.

Despite the chaos and the uncertainty of the situation, she felt a sense of calmness and peace. She knew that no matter what happened next, they would face it together. They were in this together now, no going back.

“...finally,” Gemma breathed.

Ariel chuckled at Gemma's relieved sigh.

"Finally indeed," she echoed in agreement.

She looked up at Max, his arm still wrapped around her. He seemed a little more relaxed too, his body less tense than before.

"Took us long enough, hm?" Max teased with a wry grin.

Ariel couldn't help but roll her eyes playfully at his comment.

"Is it serious?" Gemma asked carefully.

"As serious as can be," Max replied immediately, his tone firm and resolute.

Ariel knew that Max didn't do anything halfway, he was all-in when he committed himself to something. And when he said 'as serious as can be', he meant it wholeheartedly.

And still…she could feel a little shiver run through her at his words. 

She knew Max meant every word he was saying.  He was all in, and he was serious about them being together.

There was a certain charm in Max's blunt and decisive nature.

He wasn't one to sugarcoat things or beat around the bush.

He meant what he said, and he said what he meant.  And when he said that he was serious about them, he meant it. 

There was no room for speculation, no room for doubts.

And Ariel loved that about him. 

She trusted him blindly. 

"We've been dancing around each other for ages, and I'm done wasting any more time," Max stated firmly.

Ariel could hear the determination and certainty in his voice.

He meant it, he was done playing around.

Ariel felt her heart skip a beat at Max's declaration, her stomach fluttering with excitement and anticipation.

It was the last push she needed, the final confirmation that she wasn't the only one feeling this way.

Max was all in, and he was serious about them.

She felt a surge of happiness and relief wash over her, the truth of his words sinking in. They were doing this, they were really doing it.

She leaned into him, her body pressing against his, seeking his warmth and comfort.

Ariel could feel the firmness of his chest against her, his arms strong and protective, holding her close to him.

"I am happy for you both, but this does complicate things," Gemma said carefully. "The fact that he is your boss..."

"She works with me, not for me," Max cut her off.

Ariel suppressed a smile at Max's quick correction.

She felt a warm flutter in her chest as he spoke up to the defense, setting the record straight instantly.

And to be honest, she couldn't help but find it just a little bit hot, how he was so quick to correct Gemma, how he was always so quick to stand up for her.

“You are the ones paying her salary,” Gemma correcte him drily. 

"We haven't let our relationship interfere with our professional lives before, we won't start with it now," Max continued. "And yes, I do pay her salary. Which means she works for me and not for Re Bull. So I don't really care what you have to say about this, she doesn't fall under company policy."Ariel felt a surge of pride and affection for Max as he spoke.

His words were firm and determined, leaving no room for arguments.

And hearing him defend her, hearing the certainty in his voice…Ariel looked up at him, admiring the strength and resolve in his eyes.

She knew he would always have her back, always stand up for her.

"We've been able to separate our personal relationship from our work," he continued, his voice steady and unwavering. "We've always been professional and respectful in the workplace, and that's not going to change."

He paused for a moment, his gaze shifting to Ariel, his expression softening ever so slightly.

"We know how to work together effectively, without letting our personal feelings interfere,” he continued, his voice firm yet caring. 

“I agree,” Ariel said calmly. “We can manage. We always have.”

“I can already see, it doesn’t matter what I say,” Gemma said with some amusement.”

“No,” Max agreed flatly. 

“What else?” Ariel asked with a grimace. 

Gemma let out a long sigh, her expression becoming a little more serious. She ran a hand through his hair, clearly contemplating how to phrase the second matter.

"Have you checked social media yet?" she asked with a grimace

Ariel's stomach immediately dropped at the question, a sense of foreboding creeping up inside her.

She had a feeling she knew where this was heading, and she already didn't like it.

"Do I actually want to know what happened?" Max asked drily.

"Well, the press thought that whatever happened between Ariel and your father was much more interesting than actually asking the other drivers about the race...and they mad had a few...thoughts on that?"

Oh god. 

"I think you'll want to see this?" Gemma said, as she handed over her tablet.

It was a clip of Pierre Gasly, clearly taking at the after race press interview, with the interviewer posing the question: "Do you happen to know if Max Verstappen is in a romantic relationship with Ariel Cane?" And Pierre actually answered, "Not as far as I know...but if they do become a couple in the next few weeks, I would win the bet, so if they could get on that, that would be great!"

"What bet?" Ariel asked weakly as she watched the clip run out.

She could already see where this was going. And she didn’t like it. 

Were the other drivers betting on her relationship with Max?

"Who exactly took part in that bet?" Max asked, his voice fierce.

"...The whole grid?" Gemma answered with a grimace. "Apparently there is a whole betting pool according to Lando Norris?"

Ariel couldn't believe her ears.

The whole grid? Seriously?

She felt a mix of anger and incredulity at the revelation. Everyone, literally everyone on the grid, had been betting on her and Max getting together?

"This is ridiculous," she grumbled, her irritation reaching a boiling point.

The media and now the other drivers, all speculating about her and Max like they had nothing better to do.

She could feel Max's annoyance radiating off of him, and she knew he was just as fed up with this nonsense as she was.

"I can't believe they're all betting on our personal lives," she continued, her frustration growing with each word.

She could understand that the media loved to pry and speculate, but for the other drivers to also partake in this absurd gossipmongering... it was simply infuriating.

"Have they got nothing better to do than speculate about what's going on between us?" Max growled. 

"And to think that even the other drivers are placing bets on us," Ariel said, her tone filled with disbelief.

It was one thing if the media was gossiping, but for the drivers to be involved in this ridiculous betting pool... it just seemed so juvenile.

"I mean, what is this, high school?" Max huffed, his irritation evident in his voice.

He was clearly as fed up with this whole situation as she was.

She couldn't believe that the other drivers had nothing better to do than bet on her and Max's relationship status.

"Also Lando Norris is apparently worried that he won't get Christmas Cookies from you this year?" Gemma continued with a grimace.

Ariel almost burst out laughing at the news about Lando Norris.

Was he seriously concerned about not getting her Christmas cookies?

"Lando is worried about the cookies?" she repeated, a mixture of amusement and disbelief in her voice.

She couldn't help but find it a bit ridiculous that the most pressing issue on Lando's mind was whether he'd be receiving her Christmas cookies or not.

"Seriously, that's what he's concerned about?" Max chimed in, his tone filled with a mix of irritation and amusement.

He seemed just as flabbergasted as she was that Lando was more worried about the cookies than anything else.

"I mean, I'm flattered that he enjoys my cookies so much," Ariel said, trying to keep a straight face.

She was finding this whole situation more and more absurd by the minute. It was like they were in some kind of soap opera or something.

"But the fact that he's more concerned about missing out on a batch of my cookies than anything else is just... I don't even know what to say," she continued, shaking her head in disbelief.

It was ridiculous, but also kind of endearing in a way. She couldn't help but find Lando's preoccupation with her cookies just a bit adorable.

"I swear, the drivers these days have their priorities all mixed up," Max chimed in, a hint of mock irritation in his voice.

He was trying his best to maintain a stern expression, but Ariel could tell he was secretly amused by Lando's obsession with her cookies.

"One minute, they're focused on the race, and the next, they're worried about the possibility of missing out on some homemade treats and having betting pools about my private life," Max continued, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Gemma let out a sigh, rubbing her hands together nervously.

It seemed like there was still more.

Ariel could feel her irritation rising once again as she prepared herself for more ridiculous gossip and speculation.

"Anything else?" Max asked clippedly.

"Charles Leclerc may have said that it was obvious that the two of you were in love?" Gemma offered. 

Ariel nearly choked on her own spit. 

She glanced at Max, seeing how his jaw was clenched tightly, his irritation evident.

Ariel couldn't help but roll her eyes.

Seriously? Charles Leclerc was now an expert on her and Max's relationship?

"Max. Charles and I are going to have an inchident the next time we meet," she said, as she closed her eyes.

Max chuckled, a hint of amusement in his voice. "We need him in one piece for the next race, you know," Max said, a hint of humor in his voice. “So go easy on him please.”

"Anything else?" Ariel asked nearly begging. Please let that be all?

"I think that's it," Gemma said quickly, as she gathered herthings to leave. 

Ariel let out a sigh of relief, glad that the barrage of ridiculous gossip seemed to be over.

She sank back into the sofa and against Max, feeling a mixture of exhaustion and irritation.

Ariel was so tired of the media and the drivers prying into her personal relationship with Max.

"You know what, I'll deal with them tomorrow," she said with a sigh.

Max gave her a hum of understanding, his expression sympathetic.

"And Lando is not getting any christmas cookies any time soon," she muttered, making Max laugh.

"We both know that you don't hold a grudge that long," he teased her.

Ariel shot Max a mock glare, but she couldn't help but smile at his comment.

He knew her too well.

"Shut up," she muttered, shoving him playfully with her shoulder.

She tried to maintain a stern expression, but she couldn't help but feel a hint of amusement in spite of herself.

She looked at Max, giving him a weary smile.

"I swear, it's like the whole world has nothing better to do than gossip about us," Ariel muttered, her frustration still evident in her voice.

She shook her head, still finding it hard to believe that the other drivers had been betting on their relationship status.

Max chuckled darkly, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Well, they're all bored and have nothing better to focus on," he said dryly.

"I swear, the next time I see Lando, I'm gonna smack him upside the head," Ariel grumbled.

She was still irritated at Lando's statement about missing out on her Christmas cookies.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Max said softly. “You are threatening violence, so you need sleep.”

He was probably right about that. 

She was tired, both mentally and physically, and she knew that a good night's sleep would do her some good.

Ariel got up from her chair, stretching her arms slightly.

"Yeah," she agreed, her voice soft. "Bed sounds good right now.Will you…keep me company?” She asked him, biting her lip.

She wasn’t sure why this was making her nervous…

Maybe because they had never actually share a bed before… but Max smiled at her, his eyes softening at her request.

"Of course I will," he replied softly. His voice was warm and reassuring, filled with unspoken affection.”You still owe me cuddles after all,“ he teased her and she snorted.

Ariel did snap a picture of the saltines and ginger ale on the bedside table as she connected the phone to her charger. While she didn’t theoretically fall under the purview of Gemma, she still send off a quick text about the instagram post she wrote, not wanting to stub any toes. Ariel was not going to let that ridiculous pregnancy speculation go on any longer. 

 She also texted Emma, not wanting her sister to be worried.

And then she slid under the high thread count sheets and glomped onto Max. 

Max just laughed softly as he felt her snuggle up against him, her body molding perfectly against his.

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close, and she relished in the feeling of her head resting against his chest.

He nuzzled his face against her hair, taking a deep breath, inhaling her scent.

Ariel still couldn’t quite believe this. Not really. It felt utterly and completely…magical.

But here she was, curled up with Max in his bed, one hand of his gently tracing her spine and him pressing kisses to her hair.

“Did you…did you mean what you said?” Ariel asked him hesitantly.

“What?” Max wondered.

“That I am the woman you…you love,” she answered weakly. Did he mean that or had it just been the heat of the moment or… Max stopped his caresses for a moment, sensing the uncertainty in her voice.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at her, his eyes meeting hers.

His expression was gentle, filled with warmth and sincerity.

“Of course I meant it, Schatje” he said quietly, his voice soft and reassuring.

He reached one hand up, gently stroking her cheek.

“You’re the woman I love, Ariel,” he repeated firmly, as if trying to hammer the point home.She couldn’t believe it. It was jsut…

It was everything she had ever wanted right there for her taking.

“Good,” she whispered. “Because we really took long enough and I love you too.”Max's expression softened as he heard her words, a slow smile spreading across his face.

He couldn't help but feel a wave of relief wash over him as she confirmed her feelings for him.

He pulled her closer, holding her tightly against him.

"We really did take long enough, didn't we?" he murmured, his voice filled with amused affection.

He ran his fingers gently through her hair, his touch gentle and tender.“Only five years,” she joked.

Max chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

"Right," he said with a grin. "Only five short years."

He pretended to sound annoyed, but the amused sparkle in his eyes betrayed his true feelings.

He pulled her even closer, their bodies now pressed fully against each other.

"We really are idiots, aren't we?" he teased, his lips grazing her forehead.She hummed her agreement, tipping up her face.

“Don’t make me ask,” she requested softly.Max chuckled softly, sensing her unspoken plea.

He knew exactly what she wanted, and he was more than happy to oblige.

He cupped her chin gently, tilting her face up towards his.

"You don't have to ask," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

Without further ado, he lowered his head and captured her lips in a soft, tender kiss.

Ariel melted into the kiss, her body molding against Max's.

[sevs-corner]

Tf 141: Jock AU!

Welp here we are, and I’ve been listening to a lotttttt of (Set it Off) songs so-!!!

Here’s my take of how toxic it would be like with them once they finally got you roped into their relationship

Masterlist here! to my other works and link the OG idea behind the AU here!

Edit#1: added more content! Felt like it was too short (i got more thoughts to add MWHAJAHAJSHJ)

My inspo for this hehe:

MDNI - TW: 18+ Suggestive Content | Toxicity | Degradation

Look, it wasn’t like you were a perfect little princess either, alright?

You ended up here at this problematic school for a reason, y’know?

Despite the fancy reputation it had on the inside— the students knew better

The students knew that all of it was just a farce for these four students who were controlling everything from behind the scenes

And you just happened to cross bridges with said four mansplain manipulators (they aren’t malewives yet)

Gaz, being the first one to welcome you, the hunger already being seen behind his iris, was all ready and eager to show you off to the rest of the guys

But he takes it slow, playing with his food, and letting you “get used to the new school”

Ha! Bullshit— they got you used to them.

Day in, day out- you’d experience their teases, probing pokes, provocations, and just temp you ever so sweetly to be their personal little bitch toy

You deny- keep denying and denying until they show you whats in store for you

Until, at one of their parties, they showed you that you could be that girl in the middle of all four of them on their bed

You lied and ran- as fast as you could

But you couldn’t lie to how you reacted down there

And when that reaction happened again at another party but with just the four of them just slobbering all over each other

‘Disgusting..’

You tell yourself, but somehow- you always stood in front of the dreaded master bedroom door

Tempting you ever so slowly, cracking the walls you’ve built ever so carefully

With a knock, you sealed your fate

From then on, there was no one who didn’t know that you were branded theirs

It was a rough adjustment at the start

Johnny always greeted you first thing in the morning, spamming your phone with all sorts of…questionable memes (that you found quite distasteful and you just?? Didnt?? Understand it all and when you asked him to explain, he’d just send another reaction pic basically answering “what the fuck? You dont know?”)

Sometimes, you’d get a surprised dick pic or a drive link to their last night escapades

Teasing you and moaning your name- hoping you would join them soon enough (they cant get enough of you and want it everyday)

And when you send one it return with one of the toys Simon gave you?

You can’t bet your ass you wouldn’t be leaving the door of your dingy apartment

Though on days that you’re able to actually go out and attend classes, Gaz would be right outside waiting with his daddy’s car

Something all the boys flaunted with really, except Simon who seemed too lazy to drive himself, so he finds himself hitching a ride with Johnny or Price more often than not

Gaz would guide (force) you into the car, before taking you either to their place or the school

Sometimes, he would kidnap you for himself and sends those pictures and videos to the rest of the heavily fuming and horny three

And when you got back?

Well, you could already see yourself besides a kneeling Gaz— tears of frustration and wanton pleasure coating his cheek bones, his mouth gagged and limbs bounded

Before they were done with him, they promised that you would be next

And they never forget their promises— they go above and beyond

Aside from those escapades, school was no different from being attached to your side

Got a group project? Forget about the work you did already with your current group- you’re with them now

Eating lunch alone? Nope, they’re by your classroom door to pick you up (so you can’t deny them when they’ve put in the effort to escort you)

Got detention? They are walking themselves there willingly just to accompany you

Got a class any one of them? They’re skipping theirs and going to attend yours from now on

Having a hard time in gym class? Sure, they’ll watch you struggle at first in those too short-shorts but if you begged prettily enough, they’ll come swooping in immediately

You have to repay them back in the locker rooms after their practice though

Gotta make sure they’re all clean and well-rested after the coach ran them rugged y’know?

Need a ride home? They are personally escorting you back, as long as you provide compensation on the way there of course

All this made you addicted

Starting off from being too much to needing it more like its Johnny’s daily dose

Wanting to be even closer with them— you indulge in their vices as well

You start smoking with John, kissing with the cig butts and inhaling each other’s smoke

You start taking Johnny’s drugs and sharing joints with him, going to class high and sobering it with a shared tumbler of whiskey between you two

You start to join Gaz in his projects, growing the craving satisfaction of seeing people being broken beneath his feet and manipulation

You start to have more play scenarios with Ghost, even bringing it outside of the bedroom

And the boys can’t help but join in as well

This then continues on and on until…

Until you realize…

Externally, they’ve gave you everything

Everything you’ve wanted and more

And you’ve let them take, and take, and take—-

But in the post nut clarity you found yourself in from another fivesome with them—

You stare at a stranger that is supposed to be you

And it scares you how far gone you’ve had

So you ran… as fast as you could

Even if you would see them again tomorrow

But what scares you more was how easily you fell back in to their pace if you leave for too long

So you try, you try ending it all

That as soon as you came home, your plan of “burning bridges” begins

Taglist!✨ (for more crumbs on the au LMAO)

@cod-z

[juniperss]

Could you write something with Joe Liebgott where maybe they are friends but he’s got a crush on the reader but refuses to acknowledge it so he tries to distance himself from her. Then maybe one night something goes wrong and she gets hurt and it causes him to admit to his feelings. Some big angst and fluff :)

this is such a cute idea! Since I'm only taking headcanon suggestions though, I'm gonna answer in that format, <3 Joe Liebgott you can run from your feelings but you cannot hide them! I wrote these with gender neutral pronouns, i hope that's alright!

Honestly the fact that he has a crush on a friend is one of the last things he feels he needs in his life during the war. It's just another series of emotions that he has to deal with now and he can't believe that he's had to go and get a crush on you, of all people. Because honestly, in his mind, there are only two ways this is gonna pan out: you're gonna tell him "aw thanks, Joe that's really sweet but I don't feel the same" or you're gonna like him too and he's gonna risk losing you in combat. No thank you, either way!

Now....is that entirely rational or true? Nope. But he doesn't want to admit that he has feelings for you and lying to himself about the outcome is certainly a way to help suppress them.

Really though he's worried that admitting a crush on his best friend is going to mean losing you, one way or another and he doesn't think he can live with that. Not now, not after everything that's happened.

Him denying his feelings results in trying to put distance between the two of you. Which is really obvious since being friends with him meant that you two were usually joined at hip. And it's sudden too, he doesn't just gradually or subtly introduce spending less time with you. Because as soon as he's hit with the realization that "OH shit, I love them", he starts the distancing. Better to nip it in the bud now.

And it hurts. You're not sure what you did to upset him and cause him to ask for a different patrol partner or for him to turn around and walk away when you approach. And if you try to bring it up, he gives some bullshit about "I'm not acting any different, what are you talking about". I can also see him starting to be a bit mean towards in an attempt to get you to stop asking him about it. Throwing rocks at the dog kind of situation.

This goes on for a few weeks and one day while he's making some rounds he hears about an ambush on the patrol just a little bit ago. The patrol that he knows you were on because he asked Muck to switch with him earlier in the day.

There's some serious injuries he hears and no one around seems to have the same answer about what happened to you. There's so much panic building up in him and a heavy sense of dread and guilt. He's booking it towards Doc Roe's station to find you.

Literally pushing past people trying to track you down and when he finds you sitting on the ground with a bandage around your upper arm he wants to throw up. So many apologies pouring out of his mouth that they jumble up and don't even make sense, but you can pick out the words "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" multiple times.

You think you can see tears in his eyes too but you don't have time to investigate because he's hugging you and you're wrapping your arms around him too. You missed your friend and you missed how good it felt to hear him speaking to you with kindness.

He explains his behavior over the last week or two as he helps you back to camp. Saying it out loud has him feeling really dumb because he can't believe he thought that would work when you're looking at him with such big eyes and a frown. He just feels like an ass.

When he finally admits that it was all because he has feelings for you, he has to look down at him feet. He can't take saying it directly to you. It's odd seeing Joe Liebgott shy and self conscious about something. He only looks at you once you've taken his hand in yours and squeezed it gently.

Ends with a tender kiss, but is quickly followed up with promises to never ignore you again. He'll spend as much time as he needs to get you to forgive him despite your acceptance of his apology.

[crobones]

I know Evan's love is toxic. He loves his friends so much that, when they divulge how bad they're feeling - about themselves, about the world around them, about whatever situation they're all stuck in - as opposed to processing these feelings and moving through them to learn and grow, he's like "Nope! Nonstarter, you're amazing and we all love you."

He mentioned it on day one. "There's nothing pleasant in rest." It is a survival tactic. Self-preservation in never staying in one place too long.

But the thing about processing emotions fully is you have to kind of just... sit in it. You need to acknowledge how you feel, understand that dealing with it cannot be avoided or rushed, and take a second to just... stew in it. You can't speedrun every issue in life. And you can't mentally look at a feeling, point at it, name it, put it to the side, and move on. That's just sweeping the mess under the rug instead of actually cleaning it up.

He's getting close to actually learning how to process emotions, and you can see that when he talks to Sam. But he experienced feeling good all of one time, and decided he never wanted to feel any of his previous sadness ever again. It's an unfortunate trauma response - you tell a person some shit that happened to you and expect them to compartmentalize it just like you did. "Yeah, I got stabbed, but it's fine. Don't worry about it."

It's K's conversation with Tabby about Evan. But, unfortunately, K saw this behaviour in Evan and decided they could fix it for him. But now they realize that that isn't feasible. You can't clean a person's house for them - it's their personal and intimate space and you don't know where everything goes and what's more important to them. Not to mention, it takes away their agency. They don't get to learn how to deal with shit if you just fix it for them.

That's what Evan's doing. Tape shapes aside, he doesn't clean the emotional bullshit, he dumps it all into boxes, throws a label on it, and puts it neatly on the pile of a thousand other boxes.

And when Jammer, or Sam, or K gets personal and lets him into their house, well. He wants to be useful. He's looking at the mess, thinks it's a non-issue, throws it in a box for them, and starts a pile. But, they shouldn't worry, he can listen to them describe what the mess is, and he'll put a label on the box for them.

Am I making sense? All of this is dismissive asshole behaviour, but they all know it's well intentioned. They do love each other. The first time he experienced a positive interpersonal interaction, he didn't want to give it up.

Now that they're back, he knows the adventure will come to an end, and that terrifies him. But he's been so task-oriented all his life, any time there's emotions to deal with, he boxes it and puts it aside.

I NEED HIM TO TURN HEEL. IF HE WANTS THE ADVENTURE TO GO ON FOREVER, I'M SURE HE COULD EASILY BECOME THE BAD GUY THEY NEED TO STICK AROUND; TO KEEP THE JOURNEY GOING. BREAK THAT FUCKING WELL, EVAN. NO HESITATION, NO EASING THE WORLD INTO IT - SMASH IT TO BITS ON SIGHT. SUBMIT THE WORLD TO CHAOS.

And what has Sam done every time? She's talked some fucking sense into them. And, well. She's already got a direct line to Evan's most intimate self. They've been in each other's head, they've had their souls entwined with one another. He sees her as the best wizard in the world. What better way to stop Evan from diving head first into the role he's always been afraid of becoming, than making him come to heel and to get his shit together?

[heylittleriotact]

🕯️ THE RITUAL HAS BEEN COMPLETED AND I AM SUMMONED BY @emmg 🕯️

WIP ✨WHATEVER✨

I have a lot of Emmrook things in mind that I want to write (I made a list!), but I only have one brain and one dominant hand for writing, so I’m just dawdling away at my leisure.

Currently I’m working on my take on a scene that would take place directly following the end of the game because BioWare hates us and decided we don’t need any closure for our Rooks or their love interest aside from some vague ‘live, laugh, love’ bullshit epilogue slide.

Rook works their fucking ass off the entire game and is basically the emotional sponge for everyone else’s issues, pushing themselves beyond what’s healthy to see their goals through. Emmrich remarks on it on at least two separate occasions, so I think my Rook would probably find herself in a position within hours of everything concluding where her body and her mind just stand on the brakes and say, “Nope! We’re done! We cannot and will not do any more things until you take some time to recuperate!”

And who’s going to make sure that happens in the most romantic, wholesome, and slightly stern but sexy way?

Emmrich, of course 🤍

Also, I’m reverse uno-ing @emmg because I want to know what you’re cooking. LET ME INNNNNN.

I’m also tagging @allofthebarks because she said she has things she wants to write but the writing just isn’t coming, so comfort yourself in my clumsy, unedited WIP and just write A Thing. Dooooo it!!!

Veilguard End Game Spoilers Under The Cut

Cheering and accolades followed them through the ruined streets of Minrathous, and Amina took the time to ensure that no waiting hand was left unshaken, no hug went unreturned, and no condolence went unoffered. It took them nearly two hours to make their way to a damaged but still structurally sound estate secured for them by the Shadow Dragons but as far as she was concerned, it was time well spent.

As the ornate doors of the manor closed behind them and the cacophony of their victory was muffled, Amina took two steps into the manor, bent at the waist, and splattered the floor with the contents of her stomach.

Emmrich was on her in an instant, holding her long black hair aside with one hand and stroking comforting circles on her back with another.

“What’s happening? What’s wrong with her?” Taash demanded, taking a step forward. Her voice was distant - drowned out by the screeching whine in Amina’s ears.

She felt her legs wobble and give way, her armoured knees colliding roughly with the ground as she threw out a hand to steady herself, not caring that it landed right in her sick: everything was too much. Too loud. Too bright. Too… real. It felt like she was being driven out of her own body like a wayward spirit, her essence clinging desperately to whatever it could hold onto to tether her here.

Just as distantly, Amina could hear Emmrich respond to Taash but his words were lost on her as she wiped her mouth with the back of her arm and lurched clumsily to her feet.

“Harding - I need to go to her mother—“ Her voice broke: she hadn’t had time. None of them had had time to tell her mother about Harding’s death before Elgar’nan forced their hand.

She clenched her teeth at the sensation of hot tears cutting through the accumulation of grime and gore and sweat on her face, snarling defiantly through the deluge of agony crashing through her… breaking her from the inside.

There’s still work to be done…

She was pulling away from Emmrich, her course uncharted but steadfast: she needed to go. Somewhere. Anywhere. It didn’t matter, as long as she was doing something… as long as she was helping. But no matter how she pulled and tugged, he wouldn’t let her go: lithe as Emmrich was, he wasn’t weak by any stretch.

With some effort he managed to put himself in front of her, gold rings clinking against silverite where he gripped her shoulders before pulling her tight against him.

“Breathe, darling.” He instructed, enshrouding her diminutive frame in his own. “I need you to breathe… can you do that for me?”

She managed an anguished sob in reply but nothing more: any attempt to draw breath was met with unforgiving resistance as her airways slammed shut in seeming rebellion of life itself.

Arrangements need to be made - things need to be taken care of, and I’m the only one left to take care of them.

No. First I need to breathe.

“I’ve got you: you’re safe with me.”

More tears rolled down her cheeks as her eyes clenched shut and she forced a thin, ragged inhalation into her lungs.

“Well done, darling.” Emmrich encouraged, ever calm, ever heartening. “Now let’s try for another one, shall we? I’ll do it with you. Let out your breath on the count of three: one… two… three…”

She felt Emmrich contract against her as he slowly exhaled with her. None of this was new to her: Nevarran breathing techniques were required learning for Watchers. Claustrophobia could present unpredictably, and if one found themselves turned around or overwhelmed in the Necropolis, being able to stay calm was vital to survival.

“Perfect. Now another breath in…” He waited while Amina drew another shaky breath then loosened his hold on her to gently cup her cheek. Within moments she could feel the familiar soothing tingle of Emmrich’s magic coursing intimately through her, seeping through her nervous system and providing some relief.

“Emmrich,” she rasped, clutching at his chest. “I… I need to—“

“Do absolutely nothing.” He interjected sternly, his voice absent of any playful familiarity or scholarly flair, though it softened almost reflexively as he continued. “You’ve overextended yourself, Amina. You’ve been overextended for some time, but you pushed through to see this to the end - and you have - but my love, you can’t evade the reality of what you’ve been through indefinitely… you need to rest and take time to come to terms with things.” He drew his thumb over her cheek, speaking to her like she was the only person in the room.

“But—“

“All that needs to be attended will be seen to: Lace’s mother will be informed of her sacrifice in an appropriate manner, and the… actions of the Inquisitor will be communicated to the south.” He hung on the word ‘actions’ seemingly unsure of its accuracy but ultimately too focused on Amina to care.

She opened her mouth to argue, but likely having anticipated this from her, Emmrich spoke first.

“You’ve done so much and helped so many without asking for anything in return… please let me be the one to help you in your moment of need?”

His eyes searched hers, soft and pleading, and she studied the face of the man she loved: each pleasing curve and angle that she had committed to memory etched on her heart. The crinkled lines at the corners of his eyes, and the creases around his familiar mouth spoke of years of smiles offered to comfort and soothe.

He was filthy too, and his hair was limp and disheveled, strands of it hanging into his face… but oh Maker how she loved him…

“I love you…” He whispered for her ears alone, his lips ghosting over hers. “And I so look forward to reminding you of that fact every day for the rest of our lives… so let me begin now: let me take care of you.”

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XXI. “belonging”

parts: previous / next

plot: somehow, you always find your way back home. Batman gets an intriguing lead on John Doe.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, dead body, cancer, confrontation, depression

words: 3.2k

Tears studded your cheeks as you vented to Mar about the morning's happenings. She'd never liked Dr. Vry, and at some point the conversation had exploded into a rant about the subpar character of the woman. "Remember when she accidentally input my A as a C and told me 'fate' must have guided her grade input? Then didn't fucking change it because of fucking, written in the stars bullshit? Fucking tanked my GPA."

"I just don't get it. The email said nothing about him, she said nothing about reporting on him besides being excited he would be there." You collapsed flat on your back in a starfish pose. "It was like she expected me to be starstruck by him or something. Like that was the only course of action." Like everyone else seems to be. The world caters to flashy, superficial things.

"Fuck her! You don't need her!"

You stared at her blankly for a moment. "Except for my housing, my food, my plane tickets back home?"

"How much an hour is it? Like $15?"

"$43."

"Oh fuck, in this economy you should've said you'd suck his dick, too."

Maybe you were spending a little too much time with her. "I feel like alluding to me doing anything with that man should be a crime." You flopped back on your bed and checked the time--it was barely past noon. You hadn't even managed to be at the job until the afternoon... shame threatened to cocoon you faced with such obvious failure. At this point you remembered the check Dr. Vry had sent would arrive today, and a few minutes later you sat inputting the code you'd been mailed to your digital check.

You spent the next twenty minutes listening to Mar continue to rant while you ordered some groceries. By that point she'd gotten a text from one of her friends for their Friday night bar hangout and had dismissed herself, leaving you tethered to your house as you waited to stock your fridge. You watched out the window as she got into an Uber, and after she was gone for sure, and just as the check deposited, you called your mom. Moreso even than the likely imminent firing, the stress of her health threatened to spiral you off the deep end. She picked up on the third ring. She sounded tired.

"Hey, hun." She cleared her throat, then yawned. You heard a small buzzing sound in the background, then heard a small meow. Another night he spent purring and cuddling her. Thanks, Walter. God, you were so glad she had him. "Everything alright? The photos you sent of your apartment were really good, I showed them to Debbie and she couldn't believe it! 'In GOTHAM?' is what she told me!"

To tell or not to tell about the troubles this week held? She yawned again. Not the time. "You sound tired." Your grip tightened around the phone.

She sighed. "My doctors moved my appointment to six thirty in the morning, can you believe that?" She tsk-d.

"How'd the appointment go?"

"Oh just fine. I had to sign a bunch of paperwork and talk to practically everyone in the place." She sounded bored and vaguely annoyed, which she hadn't been before. Irritability a potential side effect?

"Did the shot hurt?" Small talk, but what else was there to discuss? Your likely firing?

"Nope." She began cooing to Walter, who became exponentially louder with his purr.

"How's your arm? Any side effects yet?" God, why did things feel so dry today? Did Gotham really create so much distance already between you and your family? Were you just anxious and overthinking? Was she annoyed?

"My my, they must have you busy with interviewing skills."

You opened your mouth to respond, but she questioned you instead. "When are you coming back hon?"

This question confused you. "Uh, whenever you need me to, but I thought starting next month? For the injections?" You twirled with a frayed end on your blanket. Can I still return this? It's been like a week and it's already tearing apart... she snapped you out of your wandering with her next sentence.

"Sure, your dad and I are going on a cruise this week."

A cruise? Right after her first dose of an experimental cancer drug? With unknown side effects? "Mom, your treatment,"

"Oh we'll only be gone a week. Won't interfere with my next appointment." Walter meowed again. Who would be taking care of him?

"I mean, okay. I just think with not knowing the side effects of your first dose,"

"The way I see it dear is this might be the best I ever get to feel."

That sentence hit like a ton of bricks atop bruised ribs. "Couldn't you wait a week, just see the side effects?"

"The cruise leaves the port tomorrow."

"Mom,"

"We still can't believe that donor. Whoever they are, they really opened our finances up. Your father's been saving for years to try and make that initial bulk payment,"

You recalled the argument they'd had when your mother's cancer was initially found. Your mom wanted to start a payment plan immediately, but your dad thought if he put it into deferment for a few years and made payments to a high yield savings account every month their money would 'go exponentially further'. You hadn't cared much at the time, mostly because money stressed you the hell out, and at the time you were trying to avoid thinking about your mother's prognosis. Before you could decide what to say next, your dad had walked into the room and starting shouting loud enough for you to hear on the phone.

"Hey sweets, how are you and that Wayne guy doing?"

"I don't know how else to tell you guys I don't like him. We don't talk." This conversation was going nowhere, and you could smell an impending argument if you stayed on even another minute. You needed to check on one last thing before hanging up. "Who's looking after Walter?"

"Oh don't worry about that,"

"I am worried. Do you need me to come back to watch him?"

"Debbie will be stopping in throughout the week to check on him."

Walter was never very fond of Debbie; whenever she came over, in fact, he ran and hid. If you knew Debbie any less you might think Walter was placing judgment on her character, but no: she was just very loud, her laugh sounding a bit like a stampede. Walter was never very skittish, but after enough startles, he'd come to hide whenever he heard her come around. His discomfort was all you needed. "Tell her not to come, I'm coming home for the week."

"Hon," your mom began to chastise you, but you refused to let her finish. "No, no, I'm coming home tomorrow and I will stay with him. Case closed." After saying goodbye and lying about having already bought a nonrefundable ticket, you hung up and bought the earliest flight for tomorrow: 11am. You did your best to avoid thoughts of how the thousand Dr. Vry had sent was already disappearing, and filled the rest of your evening (sans figuring out what to do with fresh bags of perishable groceries) packing to head back the next day.

The bat signal hadn't lit since Thursday night. Bruce had been left reeling, kicking himself for not following up with Gordon on the owl debacle. He went out every night, and every few hours would move to the usual meeting place with Gordon to find an empty sky. It was Wednesday night before the signal lit again, and by that point Bruce had nearly gaslit himself into thinking the owls hadn't been there in the first place.

Gordon looked morose, but resolved. "We have the autopsy back for our John Doe." He held up a graphic photo of the man, gray and laid out on stainless steel. His chest and abdominal cavities were peeled open and pinned to keep tension, revealing a normal—yet punctured—chest and abdomen. Gordon confirmed its complete lack of novelty. "Nothing. Couldn't even trace back a name. No one posting about a missing husband, child, brother, nephew, friend." He paused to clear his throat. "However, we did find something unusual in one of his fillings."

"Unusual? How?"

"The coroner said he almost didn't catch it, but he runs the deceased through an MRI machine after especially gruesome cases. Normally fillings don't show up on magnets, but these ones did." He held out his other hand, revealing a few small pieces of chipped silvery metal. The metal was extremely slick and had a mirror finish to its shine. "It's a metallic alloy of sorts. I'll send it to the lab for processing."

He nearly asked to take it back to his own lab, but that would pressure the boundaries. Gordon was in a tight spot being seen with Batman. He couldn't push it. "How long until it's processed?"

Gordon shrugged, his nose scrunched like he was still smelling formaldehyde's stench. Bruce thought he might've caught a whiff off his jacket. "Not more than a coupla days. I'll signal for you." If the city was in a better place, if Gordon was in a better mood, he might have winked.

The pause gave Bruce just enough time to speak. He said it casually, without much fuss, as if it were a rolling breeze. "Did you see what was on the knives' handles?"

Gordon sighed. A good one? A bad one? Bruce's eyes trained on him like a hawk. The cowl felt tight. "Chicken scratch, most of 'em."

"Most?" Say more.

"No traceable logo."

Frustration bled into his tone. "Looked like an owl."

Gordon's eyes focused on no particular point on the back wall, his eyes narrowing. What? He saw it too, right? pounded against his ribs to be heard. After what felt like hours Gordon shook his head. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Was this an elaborate scheme? Did Gordon not see it? Was his, was his mind failing him? It glinted off the light perfectly, the etching was transparent in its shape, the beak, the feathers, the claws...

"You alright?" The Bat was lost in thought, breathing thick and heavy. Bruce nodded. To push, or not to push? Silence hung like smog between them. It was crucial to push it, imperative to reality check his mental faculties. "It didn't resemble an owl to you?"

Gordon shrugged. It gave no information to Bruce, who was close to running out of the room and laying face-down in his pillow the rest of the night while he actively avoided looking further into the death of his great-grandfather. Was his time coming sooner than his had? Was it due to his lack of sociability? Had he been concussed one too many times? His neuronal pathways seized up, the myelin sheaths disintegrated?

"Do you know anything about owls?"

Did Gordon know? Was this a trick question? Wait, he wasn't Bruce. He considered saying he'd seen them in peculiar position throughout town, but moreso than Gordon's rocky relationship with the police force, the man had no idea who Batman was; Bruce had to keep exclusively to formidable behavior due to the weakness of the knot tying them together. A kooky moment, or a Freudian slip could force Gordon to take out some scissors and sever their relationship. Bruce shook his head, and left.

Uber. TSA. Flight. Baggage. Uber. Key. Door. Lock. Walter. Eat. Sleep. Walter. Eat. Sleep. Walter. Eat. Sleep. Walter. The past few days had passed in such inconsequential monotony you resisted the conclusion you weren't alive at all. The only moments of reprieve you gathered were when Walter walked up and jumped into bed beside you, tucking his fluffy back against your stomach. He was the only reason you were able to sleep with the anxiety of your job being in limbo, and your mom having fled the town after her first shot. Your mom had left a note saying that the connection would be spotty on the cruise, but they would be back no later than 5pm the following Friday. Now it was Wednesday, and the food your parents had left was starting to dwindle. Your muscles ached to be moved further than the walk from your bed to the bathroom, your bed to the kitchen, or your bed to the living room couch. You put another ice cube into Walter's bowl, grabbed your helmet that was thankfully still in the hallway closet, and took off for a ride to the grocery store on your mom's old bike.

The air was warm, and the sun threatened to burn every centimeter of exposed skin. You'd forgotten just long enough that the stinging sensation was of hot sun piercing onto skin to where you decided against going back for SPF. You didn't have to worry about such basic, human things in Gotham; the sun barely came out, and when it did it was covered by such dense clouds and thick smog you couldn't begin to feel heat against your skin whatsoever. The buildings were hard and cold, the dense metal keeping you chilled no matter the season. Now the sun accosted you, the wheels of the bike running over fresh leaves and the occasional string of hay. You swerved past clumps of clay dirt that lay in the middle of the road, shut your eyes for a few seconds as you coasted, not having to look out for a pedestrian or car every five feet. This was living, this was where you wanted to be. Tears prickled your eyes as you coasted into the dusty parking lot of WinCo, a local grocery store chain to the PNW. You forgot a bike lock, but the city was small and trusted enough that you never heard about bikes getting stolen, anyway. The initial panic was immediately eased, as well as the tight knot in your chest. Maybe you belonged... here?

You walked into the grocery and went straight for the fruit aisle. As you placed apples and oranges and pears in your basket, you absentmindedly flipped through the past. When you were growing up here, it was too boring. You'd wanted nothing more than to leave. You wanted to see skyscrapers, and big cities, and always have something happening around you. Now that you had experienced the worst of what a city could give, this town with its penetrating sun and lofty trees felt like paradise. A paradise that was quickly interrupted, when you accidentally knocked baskets with Lara. "Oh shit,"

"Y/N?" She pulled her basket in and glanced to her left, at someone who you presumed was her exchange boyfriend. She stared at your shoes, you noticed her cheeks going pink. Tension yanked on your shoulders and your stomach flipped. "Hi. I'm watching Walter while my parents are on a cruise."

"No longer in Gotham?" Her boyfriend turned around when she mentioned The Most Feared City, and walked over. "Gotham? That shitshow? I don't know how anyone can live there."

Fucking prick. A strange defensiveness overtook you. "It's not as bad as people make it out to be." Yes it was. "I'm just visiting home, I have a journalism job back there."

"How's Bruce Wayne?" Her tone was mocking, quite unlike Lara, and you figured it had to be Rose and Gabbi's bitter influence in the time you'd been gone that brought this upon her. Mystery Man's eyes lit up, one of the buttons on his shirt threatened to pop like the bulgy vein in his forehead. "You know Bruce Wayne? The Bruce Wayne?"

"She knows him, alright." She side-eyed the guy and giggled. He laughed, which was startling, and shame bolted through your body like a sticky, sharp rod. He leaned into her ear and said, still loud enough for you to hear and likely purposely so, "Her?"

Before shame could fully envelope you, you righted the wrong; in part because the idea of someone believing Bruce had been inside you made you want to sink into the floor, in another wanting to assuage yourself of guilt. "We haven't fucked. Sorry. I was just trying to get back at losers I thought were my friends."

Lara gasped. "I can't believe you!" It rung hollow in your ear just as Dr. Vry had. If someone put their hand over your head they'd feel steam. "You didn't used to be like this, it's fucking disappointing." You spun around and ignored what she was saying behind you, shoving your feet against the ground, making your calves burn with each grief-consumed footstep. It doesn't matter what they think. It doesn't matter what she's saying. Soon enough you made it across the store to the pantry aisle, pretending to inspect some cavatappi noodles in your quivering hands. The cardboard soaked up your bulleted tears, and you tossed it in your basket after catching a glimpse of your reflection in the boxes' plastic window. You fell to your knees and covered it up pretending to inspect the marinara, not trusting your thighs or knees to keep you steady. Everything hit you all at once, panic rising in your chest and narrowing your esophagus. You grabbed a random sauce and ran to the self checkout, ringing up your two items, grabbing a bag, and taking off for home.

The ride home wasn't as quaint as the one there. The sun wasn't at your backside, now it seared into your bleary eyes as it set, making you unable to see a rock in the road, sending you flying overtop the handlebars. When you touched your knees and elbows, they stung and stained your fingertips red. The last ten minutes of the walk was utter misery, as blood dribbled slowly down your knees and down to your wrists. Walter meowed when you came back, but you couldn't pet him. You turned the water as cold as you could manage to wash away the cakey blood and dirt. Your hands hesitated before lathering the shampoo, and when they scrubbed the back of your head you began to cry again. Your face was hot and your body ice cold. You sat on the floor, pulled your knees up, and wrapped your hands around your chest as sobs shrieked out of you. The water ran pink, then pastel, then clear. Being alive hurt. The thought pounded at the back of your corneas, chafed blisters between your thighs, and spiked the ridges in your throat, that you might never, ever, feel "home". Walter meowed at the door, you turned off the shower, and toweled off to open another can of Friskies.

[scekrex]

Hurt/comfort anyone? 😌

We all know Adam's "big and tough" act, how he gloats before anyone that he's the absolute best since he's the og dick and he's the reason the rest of the mankind was created, but what about Adam just being Adam like anytime else, especially the scene in court and Sera just talking his ear off about him acting irresponsibly and just revealing the exterminations to everyone in the worst way possible, just giving him a good ol' talk, but not in a nice way, nope. She crushes his ego in a way before leaving him alone in the room, saying she has stuff to attend and he's just standing there, all deflated and his mask glitching from how many conflicted feelings fly over his face, he's resignated, he's even sad a bit, but also angry. At Sera, at Heaven, God even, but mostly at himself since he knows he fucked up another thing in his life that he was trusted with.

He goes back home to unsuspecting of anything reader and just passes by him, not saying a word, even tho reader tried to greet him and hug him, but was unable to since Adam just brushed past him quickly. There was a heavy air surrounding reader's husband and he grew concerned, so he went to check up on him, seeing Adam just curled up on the bed, wrapped up in his own wings, shielding himself away from the world, not a sound coming out of him, but reader knew something shitty happened and just gets behind him, hugging him tightly and gently petting his wings, not saying a word to let Adam calm down and speak when he's comfortable enough to do so. Adam just smashing himself into reader and asking quietly if he was actually so bad at everything that he didn't deserve anything good in his life, if that was why everyone he cared about before left him and even now no body cares in the slightest bit about his existence. Basically just Adam having an existential crisis and reader being his anchor, trying to tell and show him how it actually is and not what his mind is telling him.

This sad, wet cat bitch needs validation and love like no one before 😞🤘

Muah ❤️

Adam might be an insecure piece of shit underneath all that narcissistic bullshit act of his but he's my insecure piece of shit and I love him.

If I'm so wonderful then why am I so misunderstood

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt (with comfort)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

“Adam,” the older seraphim raised her voice against the first man loudly, it echoed through her office with much more power than the first man had expected it to, he flinched a little at her tone, his wings dropping to their lowest. “Sera, I-” Adam wanted to explain, wanted to turn it into the stupid joke it had been, but the older seraphim had enough of it. She had enough of Adam, she had enough of his behavior and she was about to let him know. “You’re behavior is no longer accepted by us,” she started what would turn into a monologue, Adam made himself appear a little smaller at her words. “You walk on heaven's holy ground, eat the food our Father provides and whenever someone does not show you respect, your first argument is that you're the first human,” all of the things Sera had listed were true, well they had been the most obvious ones but that didn't make them less true. “And yet you behave like one of them sinners,” that however caught Adam's attention. He was what? How dare she insult him like that, he was very much not acting like a sinner. Or was he?

“You walk heaven's streets with curses on your lips, you dirtied your own purity by sleeping with so many women and men, you behave like a total child and don't know when to stop and where to draw the line and I personally am under the impression that we let your behavior slide for way too long,” she stared Adam in the eyes, giving the first man the most serious look he had ever gotten from the seraphim. The brunette lowered his head in defeat, Sera had often given him shit for being too loud, too much of this, too much of that, she had told him he wasn't behaving like the pure first human should - but it wasn't Adam's fault, not really, because how was he supposed to behave ‘normal’ when God had given him two wives just to take them from him again when he was alive? How was he supposed to fit in and act like everyone else when all that would bring him would be pain?

“Maybe divine judgment failed you. Maybe you should have ended up in hell amongst the other sinners. Father certainly wouldn't have liked it, not after Lucifer's fall, but it would have been the correct decision.” And that made Adam crumble into pieces - at least mentally. Because deep down inside he knew she was right, that no angel other than him dared to stain the name of the Father above, no other angel dared to behave as reckless and merciless as he and his exorcists did. And yes, no other angel than him had slept with so many women and men - a thing he used to be proud of. Before he had met you, before you had become his lover, before he had committed himself to you and only you. Before you, he had been different.

She smoothened out her hair, straightened her back and looked down at Adam, “I have to attend an important meeting. You shall leave and overthink your actions, Adam.” And with that she left him there, leaving him as she had shattered not only his ego but the last piece of confidence he had held inside of him. It took the brunette a while to realize that Sera was not coming back to comfort him, to tell him that she had been too harsh, why should she? She was right after all, Adam was a horrible person, he knew that, had known it ever since.

-

When the door to your shared apartment opened and Adam walked through it, you were quick to get up and greet him with a warm hug, expecting your boyfriend to be just as excited to see you as you were to see him. But he wasn't, in fact he didn't even look at you as he crossed the living room in order to get to the bedroom, no ‘sup babes’, no ‘Fuck I've missed ya stupid ass' no fucking nothing. The tips of his feathers were dragging on the floor as he walked, a sign that something wasn't right - Adam always made sure that not a single inch of his beloved wings was touching the dirty ground, even in your apartment. The brunette clearly wasn't in the mood to talk, yet you went after him to let him know that he wasn't alone, that you were there no matter what was wrong.

You opened the bedroom door quietly and what you saw shattered your heart. Adam was laying on the bed, his body looked like a ball made out of feathers, he had curled in on himself, his wings shielded him from all of reality, from whatever was hurting him right now. Yet you saw how his body shook, the first man was crying.

Wordlessly you closed the door behind you, trying to do so as quietly as possible. Then you walked over to the bed and cuddled up behind him, one of your hand gently found its way into his hair, petting it just the way you knew he liked it whenever he was feeling upset about something, the other hand of yours smoothened out the feathers covering his wings, gently rubbed the little gap between where the wings grew out of his back - you were very aware how sensitive that area of the angelic body was given that you yourself had experienced it before.

For you it was ridiculously hard to keep quiet, you wanted to talk to him, wanted to ask what was upsetting him so much, why he was crying, what there was for you to do to make it better, but you didn't. You remained quiet, Adam had made it clear that he preferred not talking about it at the moment - or maybe he simply found himself unable to do so, you weren't quite sure which was the case but either way you respected it.

A small smile appeared on your face as the brunette leaned into your touch, he tilted his head backwards, sad, puffy and reddened eyes watched you as you continued to pet his hair without a single comment, if Adam wanted to talk, you would listen. If Adam wanted to stay quiet and enjoy your presence in silence you were fine with that as well. For you it simply was important that the first man knew he wasn't alone. You were there to provide comfort and a safe space he desperately seemed to need.

“Am I as fucking terrible as people tell me I am?” there it was again, his unnecessary cursing, fuck Sera had been right. He rolled himself over, buried his face in your neck and pressed his body against your own. Your body warmth calmed his nerves, made his mind quiet down for even just the tiniest moment, but it did cause it to quiet down. “Is that why I only have Lute and you left? Because I'm fucking terrible? Because I don't deserve damn good things to happen to me?” his voice was really just a whisper yet you understood every word perfectly fine, even if it was mumbled against your skin. Your hands remained on the gap between his wings and in his hair, giving Adam the stability he craved. He needed someone to cling onto, he was too unstable to hold himself together so you did that for him. “No,” your voice was soft and warm, yet serious, it caused Adam to blink in confusion. “I don't deserve you,” was the next thing he said, and that was where you drew the line, you gently tilted his head upwards, then placed a soft, loving kiss onto his lips, “Bullshit Adam, you're wonderful and I love you.” “But I’m not. I curse a-fucking-lot, I can't keep shit together, for fucks sake I can't even do the simple things like telling you I fucking love you every day.” And yes, that was true, but that didn't cause you to love him any less, if anything it was things you loved about him especially. “I don't care about all of that, I still love you.” “Will you leave me too? Like Eve? Like Lilith? Once you finally fucking find someone better?” You shook your head lightly, placed another kiss onto his forehead, your lips kept resting against his skin as you spoke, “No, dummy. To me there's no one better than you are. You're the best for me and you'll always be.” Adam didn't answer you.

He clung onto you even tighter, wrapped his wings around you and held you close. He didn't believe you, simply couldn't, not after what Sera had said. But at the same time the first man trusted you with his existence, so why would you lie to him? His inner conflict was silenced as you pulled him into another gentle kiss. You couldn't help but hum a soothing melody, “You’ve already changed so much, so many things you've done,” you felt as Adam's eyes fell shut and as his body relaxed underneath your touch. “So many songs you've sung, and in the end, they will still hold their grudge,” you felt him nuzzle against your skin, felt how his breath evened out. “There’s something I've been dying to say, more than anything,” you smiled as you sang the last part, feeling Adam's fingers digging in your skin as he tried to pull you even closer - not that it was nearly enough though. “More than anything, need you to know I love you more than anything.” The first man pressed a sloppy, lazy kiss against your jaw before he fell asleep, from his lips fell a quiet, “More than anything.”

[mochi-munchies]

Practice Prologue: How to Snag Yourself a Dadmare! (Fanfic)

This is basically a pilot chapter or unofficial prologue to a fanfic I have in my backburner (the number is so big 😭). The plot summed up is basically if the Murder Trio sought out Nightmare to be their boss instead of Nightmare collecting them as his minions. A Reverse AU, if you will. (The reason I'm posting it here instead of AO3 is bc I'm honestly not quite happy with the result and feel it fits more as a beta version of the work.)

Fandom: Undertale (UTMV)

TAGS/WARNINGS: Canon-typical Violence, The Stars being Annoying, Minor Gore Mention (if you think about it), Sprinkles of Angst, Gratuitous Amounts of Banter, I'm Really Bad at Doing Killer's POV.

Word Count: 5937

________________________________________________

When one first started up establishing themselves in the multiverse, it was greatly advised to take those delicate, tentative steps under the guiding hand of another veteran Outcode - or if someone was incredibly lucky, under the wing of one of the few gods who not only possessed an impossible amount of understanding to the happenings of the multiverse, but could even bend it to their will within a certain degree.

The gods, after all, were respected far and wide for their power for a reason, and those who were fortunate enough to gain their interest were often destined to be favored among the multiverse's inhabitants and the Creators alike. Though whether the latter resulted in more suffrage or not was really up to the luck of the draw.

But even with such guidance, the road taken in traveling the multiverse was never without great risk of peril and danger. The multiverse was surprisingly cruel despite its inhabitants themselves not often being as such, and all it could take is a single misstep to send you hurtling into the void.

Still, with a good head on their shoulders and a healthy dose of determination, even the most unlikely of schmucks could last a week outside of their AU, at the very least. Maybe.

Not that anybody was around to tell Killer these things when his AU first glitched out and spat him into some no-name alternative timeline of Candytale.

Which, for the record, was weird as fuck. He spent four days at the very least wondering if this was like some kind of major psychotic breakdown, albeit a low-key hyperrealistic one.

Maybe smoking four packs of dog treats in one sitting was a really bad idea. Maybe this was Chara’s one last parting shot for stealing the RESET. Maybe this was his subconsciousness’ way to process through his trauma or some bullshit. Mmn, all good theories, but they never really did much to explain why there was another him included in this strange reality mixup.

Though, not like watching Gumdyne - heh, still funny - melt into a deformed.. sticky.. syrupy puddle of sugar goo wasn’t enough to shake him out of his funk. Like, the regular melting blood and bones took a while to lose its gross factor on him, but this was an entirely different kind of yuck.

Especially when some Temmies started scuttling in from out of nowhere licking the shit up, that was kinda much.. even for him.

He tried a few things at first, like RESETing a few times, trying out a few genocide runs, he even let Asgorito - seriously, who came up with this shit? - kill him a couple of times before he finally came to the conclusion that, yo, maybe there was something more at play here than a few screws being loose in his noggin.

As he lay there, surrounded by the sugary wreckage of what used to be ‘Minthee Town’ - which was an absolute garbage ass name, the atrocity wasn’t even a proper pun, it was practically sacrilege - anyway, he had an epiphany.

He knew of there being such a thing as alternative timelines. He went through the whole science phase, after all, back when he was still a hopeful little bag o’ bones with a future set in his sights. At least.. before the incident with Gas- NOPE! Been there, done that! Didn’t need that particular memory springing up again!

…Where was he going with this again..? Oh, yeah! The fact that he was stuck within a transdimensional nightmare! Right, if this wasn’t a warped figment of his mind again, then the logical explanation would likely have something to do with the timeline itself.

But what if there was more than that..? What if this goofy candy hell-ucination, was in actuality, an alternative universe? Because there was no way there was a path where the kid somehow made everyone reinvent themselves as tacky snacks for shits and giggles.

Shit.

The idea sent a shiver down his spine as he gazed out at the ruins of Minthee Town. Soul cycling into a fuzzy mess as his teeth chattered in a physical tic, he could somewhat distantly feel the freezing burn of his hate splattering down his cheeks as he considered all of the possibilities.

So much FUN..!

It took a lot of fucking around to figure it out. But, finally, Killer pieced together the basics of this alternate universe. This was a reality, a world with its own rules and physics and inhabitants. And most importantly, it had its own loopholes! Now THAT he had to take some special time with!

Before this entire mess began, he remembered the last memory he had before everything turned upside down. It was a few days after his last genocide run, the Underground was void of all life, and the world - figuratively speaking - was his stage. So of course, he did what anybody else would do..

He jumped off the craggy area’s peak and LOADed his save file on repeat to keep himself stuck in a perpetual loop of falling!

The adrenaline rush was therapeutic. Not as great as a mid-fight exchange of blows, but it was the best substitute he could think up at the time.

And somewhere during his antics, the save file gave off an off-tune ding as the entire world around him shuddered unsettlingly. Next thing he knew, he was in candy world.

So, if it was the weird bug that happened back then that caused him to be dropped into an alternative universe, theoretically, he just had to do something equally as dumb to get himself into another new timeline!

And thus, Killer, the timeline jumping, genocidal maniac was born! And boy! Was it fun! Especially after he learned that the machine the old man left behind in the basement could be used to similar, less exhausting effect! (Which was great because he was starting to run out of high places to jump off of in the Underground.)

The thrill of the unknown, the rush of adrenaline when he found a new kind of toy to take apart and use up to its fullest! Nothing could ever beat it! Although..

There were times where he found himself thinking that something was missing, somehow..

No matter how many bodies he went through, how much EXP he racked up in his runs, the euphoric rush was definitely losing its buzz, and his emotions were slowly breaking out the ice of apathy as the something he was missing became more and more prevalent.

He was sure he was going to lose whatever was left of his mind, at this rate.

Until he met them.

~ ~ ~

It was a chance encounter, as most significant events tend to be in the chaotic fabric of the multiverse. Despite the near limitless potential brought about by countless worlds reaching across the yawning void and grasping the power to cross over the dimensional plane, outside of the more ‘popular’ worlds, interactions between travelers were embarrassingly rare as they were often messy. Again, not like anyone was around to tell him all this shit at the time.

But Killer being the lucky duck he was, somehow beat those odds not even a full month after his antics began.

It was like any other day. He had just jumped into a new timeline, expecting to distract himself in the usual rush of short-lived blood and dust.

Only to find that someone had already beat him to it.

He didn’t think too much about it at the time, figuring the human of the world was probably in the middle of their own little killing spree. Yet, as he sped walked somewhat impatiently through the petrified woods, he came to a stop as he noticed the dark figure slouching in front of the bridge.

"You're not from here," Dust's voice echoed faintly, emotionally dead and flatter than MTT’s ass. The edgelord couldn’t even be bothered to lend him a glance, which - rude - rubbed Killer the wrong way.

The skeleton in front of him had a sizable amount of LV. More than what was possible in a single Underground, and he immediately recognized the other as something similar to himself. But Killer wasn’t too worried about his chances.

He didn’t know how long this guy was at the game, but his LV was nowhere near his, if he could feel it so strongly from this distance, that either meant he hadn’t accumulated enough to warrant teaching himself to suppress it, or the bastard’s stats hadn’t burnt out yet. He was clearly at the advantage here.

Killer palmed the knife in his hoodie pocket, mulling over his options. “Neither are you,” he quipped. His grin twitching upwards as the atmosphere grew dense with killing intent, his soul wobbled in excitement, as if wanting to taste the preludes to their combined violence.

Finally, something to spice things up a bit!

Thank the stars, it’s been getting harder and harder to find a good distraction.

He stepped closer in eagerness, posed ready for anything. Squeezing the hilt of his knife as the other skeleton finally straightened up and regarded the other with a dull stare.

“..You’re a monster,” Dust stated. Factually. Dead. Not even spoken as an accusation.

“So are you,” Killer chuckled, toeing just a bit further as he prepared himself for a lunge. Should he start off old-fashioned with the Blaster barrage, or kick things off with a good slice-and-jab? He cocked his head, feigning curiosity, “What’s your game, pal? You here for some fun, too?”

Dust’s face scrunched up in faint distaste at his words, though his empty sockets did nothing to betray any emotion. It was like looking in a strangely warped mirror now that he thought about it. One expressive and devoid of anything, the other too burnt out to showcase anything but stoicism.

"Fun?" he echoed, the word tasting bitter in his mouth. "There's nothing fun about this."

..Huh. Dust’s words hung heavy in the stale air, the weary bitterness in that statement so strong that it even managed to break past his lofty dissociation for a moment. Giving Killer pause.

For a brief moment, he felt the other giving off the same emptiness growing inside of him. And for some reason, that pissed him off big time.

He didn’t like it. Felt too much like the old him.

Without any hesitation, Killer rushed forwards to stab the offensive fucker.

And the rest was history.

After that, it was like the two were somehow linked by some invisible force. Always running into each other at the absolute worst times. Whether it be during a bad clash with the locals or during a particularly bad LV rush, it always ended up in a fight between the two that resulted in more and more insults landing than actual blows.

Dust couldn’t stand Killer’s flippant decadence as much as Killer couldn’t stand his self-righteous and equally self-destructive nihilism.

Yet, no matter how much they couldn’t stand the other, there was an undeniable but fundamental change as things fell into a routine. Each encounter seemed to escalate into verbal sparring and sometimes outright physical skirmishes, yet they somehow - miraculously, one could say - managed to survive each other’s onslaughts.

And every time they walked away, they were inadvertently already looking towards the next time, thinking to the future- which was something neither had done for such a long time. Honestly, Killer nearly shocked himself into a coma when he realized what it was that he had been missing before, why neither could outright finish off the other and end the game.

It was the feeling of having a playmate.

Chara - as much as Killer was all too proud to be rid of the little shit - was good at keeping things interesting. Especially considering how they were limited to the one timeline at the time. It’s incredible the kid managed to keep him entertained for so damn long looking back on it. But Dust was a different kind of fun. He brought a new dynamic to the game, challenging him more in ways that were more than just physical. It was mental. Emotional. As much as Killer hated the word and everything associated with it.

It was riskier, more high stakes than if it was just his life on the line. Because at the end of it all, Killer could always RESET. His mortality was a thing of the past now. His emotions, however, was a bomb lying under the table. Dust knew how to drag them out of their grave and expose them for all to see, and taking the bet to see if he’d be able to rebury them again and again sent a special kind of thrill through him every time.

There were times he had caught himself thinking about the other skeleton more times than he cared to admit.

And as months transitioned to years, Killer found himself drawn to Dust's unpredictability and mystery. Dust, on the other hand, though initially repulsed by Killer's carefree attitude towards violence, began to see a twisted sort of honesty in Killer's actions. At least someone could still enjoy his jokes. They were both monsters, yes, but where Dust saw only despair and inevitability, Killer saw opportunity and freedom. They pushed each other to confront uncomfortable truths about themselves and their existence in the multiverse.

It wasn't until one particularly brutal skirmish that the third member of their future trio entered the picture.

~ ~ ~

They just so happened to have been in Horrortale at the time. Once again falling into a spat over something neither could even remember now. Not like it was anything important, what Killer did remember was that he just wanted a good fight. Something Dust could only ever give him when he was forced full-throttle.

Killer’s laughter echoed eerily through the trees as he dodged another volley of attacks from Dust, his knife flashing in the dim light of the Underground. “Come on, Dusty! You can do better than that!” he taunted, his voice dripping with gleeful malice as the flaky snow crunched beneath their shoes.

The other skeleton summoned a furious wave of bones in response, his face set in a taut grimace that grit with anger when the bastard simply danced between the trees, making it difficult for the constructs to land. “Shut up and fight, you damn psychopath!” he spat, frustration and anger fueling his attacks.

Killer giggled with an exaggerated waggle of his sockets as he wove behind another tree, only to lean out with a shit eating grin as he felt the killing intent soak up the surrounding area. “Aw, don’t be like that, Dusty! What’s wrong? Can’t keep up?” He dipped back when a slew of bones were fired, teleporting to the other side of Dust before brandishing his knife.

Dust barely managed to block the attack with another bone - pah, the guy really relied on his magic too much - gritting his teeth as the force pushed him back. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” he muttered, his voice dripping with disdain.

Killer only laughed in response, a wild, unhinged sound that didn’t make it far through the stale, dead air. “Oh, I know! And that’s why you love me!” Expecting the slash, Killer skipped back and watched cheekily as Dust proceeded to charge him.

“You son of a-!”

CHNK..!

Without so much as a warning, it was at that moment a sizable hatchet whizzed out from the darkness of the trees and embedded itself within a trunk. Just shy of lopping Dust’s head clean off, if it weren’t for his quick flash of blue magic to manually pull his body away.

Killer hadn’t even noticed it until it landed right where his own head used to be. A double miss.

He shivered as he stared at the rusty weapon, feeling excitement wrack through his body as his LV pumped up in anticipation. He probably would’ve died if that was aimed at him first.

Neither of them thought much of it back then. How easily they side-stepped as one and stood together, brandishing their weapons without even the slightest consideration of the other taking advantage of the opportunity to stick it in their back.

“Show yourself, you dirty cheat!”

At first there was nothing. Just dead silence from the vacant forest until someone lumbered out from one of the closer trees.

Emerging from the shadows was a hulking figure, his single eyelight gleaming dimly in his socket as he stared the pair down with a mix of amusement and disdain. His expression was one of a very tight, very sharp smile, too rigid to fool anybody, as if a tired mask that was worn too many times before.

"You two.. done screwing around?" His voice rumbled like an avalanche, low and authoritative. Killer felt a shiver go down his spine as that eyelight dilated, staring them down in a way that made himself feel pinned under a microscope despite the lack of a CHECK.

It made him uneasy. “Hey pal, nobody ever told you it was bad manners to crash a party? Not even gonna invite yourself first, big guy?” Killer’s grin twitched wider, regaining its manic edge even as he felt the buzz of LV slowly dropping from the high. “What’s your deal?”

Dust shuffled a bit uneasily beside him, likely feeling the same wrongness he was getting from the giant. Though of course he was saying that a bit dramatically, as the stranger was probably only a head or two taller than himself. Maybe up to Undyne’s chin if he was being generous.

But, to be fair, a head or two was a lot for bags of bones like them..

The skeleton sighed, as if already annoyed with them, "my deal is.. I'm tired of hearing you two idiots fucking around in my forest... These are my hunting grounds.. and no humans are gonna come by with all your bullshit."

Dust's sockets narrowed, but there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "It’s Horror.. right? Heard stories about you.. Though, I thought you'd be.. taller."

The skeleton - or Horror - snorted, a hint of humor in his eyes. "And cruder and uglier and dumb as a rock, I bet?" His socket curled up into a crescent as his grin broadened somewhat mean spiritedly. “Sorry I’m not the.. hulking, stupid bonehead you were expecting,” he teased with a dry snicker.

Hm..? There seemed to have been a story there, or maybe an inside joke? He’d have to remember this exchange the next time he caught Dust in an amendable mood. It seemed like something that could be useful to have in future encounters.

Because he’d surely be making a return trip if that initial toss was more than a fluke…

“Ey.” He perked up, not having noticed that he had been drifting off in his mind until Dust not-too gently elbowed his rib, snapping him back into the moment to find Horror giving him a grin.

“Heh.. easy there pal… I know I’m handsome and all, but I don’t think you’re my type.”

Killer's grin only widened at Horror's taunts, the tension in the air somehow diffusing through the newcomer’s unusually relaxed and strange demeanor. Which he would later learn was due to the fact that the guy had no fucking magic, what the fuck. "Is that so? Your loss then.”

They were getting too comfortable..

Killer twirled the knife in his hand, subconsciously putting himself back in the mindset for a hard, dirty fight, ”So, big guy, you here to join the fun, or are you just gonna stand there and glare at us all day?"

Horror growled, eyelight narrowing as if he was disgusted by the suggestion. “Depends… Are you brats always this loud.. or is today an unlucky occasion?”

Dust tensed beside Killer, sensing some shift in Horror that Killer must’ve missed as his LV suddenly flared up in brief warning, letting the intent bleed out just a bit more threateningly as if to ward off some rabid animal. "..We don't back down from a fight," Dust muttered, his grip tightening on his bone construct.

Immediately, he recognized the stance Dust was falling into. Knew the moment he kicked off, the bastard would spring forwards and swipe with his magic attack, only to nail him with a hidden construct spearing out from the snow at his feet .

Killer braced himself, feeling the instinct to follow Dust’s intuition and using it as an excuse to test out the new toy. "Well then, big guy, let's see what you've got!" Without warning, Killer launched himself at the other, Dust following not too far behind.

They had their asses handed to them, in the end. Though, Horror wouldn’t walk away afterwards without his own wounds to lick- courtesy of one clever crack across the chin from Dust’s sneaky usage of Killer’s knife, but that didn’t discount the fact that they lost! Ugh, and the bastard didn’t even kill them afterwards! He just gave them a stupid warning before watching them slink out of the AU.

Ugh! He’ll have to pay the bastard back twice over next time! The sour ache in his bones only fuelled the sentiment, angry and spitting at having all of his hard work in winding Dust up to that point having been utterly wasted. Leaving his LV unfulfilled and pulsing like an open wound.

Well.. At least this could only be the worst of it.

~ ~ ~

Things only got worse from there, as his little jaunts across the dimensions finally seemed to catch the attention of the.. Star Sanses. Which, for the record, was the corniest ass name he had ever heard. They sounded like some cheesy music group, and certainly looked the part with those vomit-inducing colors.

Who the fuck even dressed in yellow, unironically..? That was like, the ugliest color of all time and the idiot had literally draped himself in it!

Admittedly, finding himself on the run as some kind of world-hopping criminal was cool as fuck.. For about a week. There were only so many times he could listen to the yellow idiot’s self-righteous and pitying monologues before wanting to stab out his ear canals- or more preferably the twat’s ribcage.

Besides, once he found out that the idiots were less about fighting and more dead set on ‘returning him to his rightful AU!’ All the fun and games were sucked right out of it.

The day Killer went back to that brain-rotting, monotonous, day-by-day, script-driven mockery of a life would be the day he RESET for the last time. And he was certain the sentiment was well shared, if Dust’s absolute frustration upon any mention of them was anything to go by.

Unfortunately, avoiding the goody-goodies - or ridding himself of them altogether - was something easier said than done. Because as much as they were naive, and overly optimistic, and laughably underleveled, one thing they were not was incompetent. Because apparently, two out of the three Sanses, were in fact not real Sanses, but Gods.

“Wait, waitwait waitwait wait.” He ignored the warning sneer Dust leveled him with for his theatrics, actually focusing more on their discussion for once than the idea of driving Dusty boy up a wall. “There’s Gods? Like- Gods exist, for real?” He had to grit his teeth to hide the doubtful laughter in his tone, though judging from the way Dust’s LV was starting to flicker to life, he was doing a shit job of it.

“You- are you fucking with me right now..?” Uh oh, he knew that tone, “you’ve been shitting around the multiverse for up to a year now, and you’re telling me you didn’t even know shit about the Gods?”

Killer tilted his head. Then looked around the dusty pub they were seated in, a reflection of his own Grillby’s if not considerably more stocked. He looked around as if someone would seriously appear to clear his good name, but when none of the dusted remains of the regulars saw fit to do so, he just shrugged his shoulders.

“Uhhh.. nope.” Killer looked over to Horror with a hopeful look, only for the larger skeleton to pointedly ignore his beseeching, winning smile in favor of cleaning the rest of his plate with a wry curve of his teeth. Traitor.

Dust slammed his bony hand on the table, rattling the city of half-empty glasses he had scattered about his side of the bar top. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Do you even take anything seriously?”

“Nah,” without looking, he took one of Dust’s many abandoned shot glasses and threw it back, slamming the empty cup a little more exaggeratedly just to play on the asshole’s nerves. “What’s the big deal anyway? Aside from being super annoying to shake off, they don’t really seem all that threatening..”

Dust took a deep, exaggerated breath, clearly struggling to keep his temper in check as his phalanges tore a small line through the wood. “That’s because they don’t see you as enough of a threat to treat you seriously, you fucking doughnut.”

That momentarily took him off guard. “Doughnut..?” He whispered to himself. Over his shoulder, he could hear Horror chuckling to himself, repeating the insult under his breath.

“That yellow fucker? Dream, or whatever? He’s the God of ‘Positivity’ or some shit,” as if recalling a particularly upsetting memory, Dust suddenly uncorked a new bottle before chugging it back. “First time I came across the little bastard, I was gathering up some EXP in an AU..” the psycho’s eyelights shuddered out, a bitter look growing over his mug as his wrist absentmindedly swirled the contents of his bottle.

“Came outta nowhere, suddenly confronting me about all this bullshit about ‘helping me become a better person’ and ‘easing my suffering’ or whatever.” He took another swig, “Been a long time since someone pissed me off like that..” his empty gaze suddenly jerked back to Killer as his voice trailed off. “Well, since someone who didn’t deserve it pissed me off, that is..”

Several glasses along the bar top went scattering across the floor as Killer lurched up in half-genuine annoyance- thankfully all empty, or Dust would’ve torn him a new one. “Ey! What’s that supposed to mean, Dusty?! I thought we were friends?!”

Both skeletons seated beside him leaned away in disgust.

“Yeah.. no thanks pal.” As if to make a point, Horror took his plate and scooted just a bit away from them, a motion that Dust was quick to imitate. Bastards, the both of them. Why did Killer even think of these two as friends playmates, again?

“You guys are so mean to me..!” Killer allowed a brief silence to settle overhead for maybe three minutes, as his soul cycled itself back into a completely perfect circle. “So what happened..?”

Dust side-eyed him with a completely new bottle in his hands, “Mmm..?”

“About Dreamy?”

Again, the same look of disdain flashed over the hooded monster’s features before he resolutely pinned his glare to the contents of his drink. “Tried to kill him.”

Horror snorted from where he was rummaging under the counter, his grin widening as he pulled back with something that looked like a mini-fridge. “Bet that went well.”

Dust's grip on the bottle tightened, the glass creaking under the pressure. “Bastard just kept dodging everything, wasn’t breaking so much as a sweat even after I busted out the blasters.. Even worse, when he hit me with those arrows…” He stopped for a moment, suddenly leveling them both a serious look, “have either of you ever been hit by those?”

“Hah, I’m not that unlucky,” Killer replied, a playful smirk dancing on his face. Horror only made a questioning sound behind him, seeming to take interest in the conversation with Dust’s seriousness.

“It felt like my skull was being.. hotboxed or some shit.. Like, the bastard’s magic was seeping into my head and- and I don’t even know how to describe it.. I could still feel my LV burning, but whatever the bastard did was making it harder and harder to summon enough intent to attack. I didn’t want to fight anymore, but my magic still did- and- and it..” Dust's grip on the bottle relaxed slightly as he exhaled, a mix of frustration and resignation evident in his tone. “I had to bail before I overheated.”

That… Killer didn’t exactly know what to expect after Dust said ‘God of Positivity’ but that.. that was not it. He imagined briefly what it would be like to feel his LV screaming at him, not being able to summon any attacks. Experiencing his intent seeping through his fingers as some hopeless kid with a hero-complex tried to reprimand him for his life decisions as his magic burned itself outside-in.

He had to hunch over the counter as an intense wave of nausea radiated from his soul, causing large splatters of hate to spillover from his sockets.

Oh… that.. that was not a great feeling.

Killer leaned back, ignoring the pointed looks the two were giving him for his outburst. “Damn, sounds like a party pooper.”

Well, if he didn’t have enough reason to avoid the Star shits before..

Horror grunted, phalanges slowly creeping towards the socket housing his ill-gotten eye with a contemplative frown, “they've been a thorn in my side too.” He admitted.

“Sometimes, when things are getting a bit too rough for Traps, I try and do some ‘grocery shopping’ y’know..? But more often than not.. that stupid Ink-asshole shows up to ruin everything,” Horror grumbled, his fingers now hooked along his socket. “Like he’s got nothing better to do than meddle in my business.”

Killer snorted, shaking his head. “Ink..? Seriously? What’s he gonna do, paint you to death?”

“Don’t underestimate him,” Dust interjected, his voice low and serious. “Ink might be a brainless loon, but he’s also probably the most dangerous out of the three of them. He’s got crazy power and little to no consciousness in wielding it. You think Dream and his arrows are bad? Try pissing off someone who goes around warping timelines into ones like ours for shits and giggles.”

..What..?

Dust gave Killer a dark look, a flicker of frustration passing over his features. “That other God? Yeah, that’s Ink. Calls himself ‘the Creator’ or something tacky like that. He supposedly plays a hand in making AUs, but I don’t know how legitimate that rumor is.”

Seriously..?

Killer remembered Ink, even thought of the bumbling moron as the most palatable of the trio - at least he didn’t seem to be so obsessed with forcing his morals down other people’s throats - but the idea of the scatterbrained artist being a God was almost laughable. Almost.

Killer’s grin faltered slightly, a shiver running down his spine at the thought. “Great. So, we’ve got one God who can mess with our minds and another who sees us as customizable pets.. That’s fantastic.”

Usually, he’d be all for a good challenge or two to mix things up, but this was clearly looking to be an inevitable nightmare. Would his RESET be able to pull him through his code being rewired, or his own head being fucked with..?

The uncertainty in that was very disconcerting.

“Oh..? You finally realizing how fucked you are?” Dust's tone was filled with bitter amusement, though his glare spoke of a deeper frustration. “These guys are playing on a whole different level. And we're nothing but misbehaving brats where they’re coming from..”

Killer slouched back in his seat, rubbing his sternum as if to physically dispel the unease creeping through him. He didn’t like seeing the unease wobbling in his soul. He didn’t like feeling.

“So we’re supposed to just keep running and hiding like a bunch of beat dogs?!” Killer himself was startled by just how virulent his tone came out. However, he was quick to wave it off- he was mad, of course he was fucking mad. He came out into this multiverse, slayed the kid once and for all, gave up his very character, thinking he was finally set free from the monotony, the pain.

And now, just because of a couple of idiot gods with hero-complexes, he was back to bowing down in the face of some untouchable power..?

NO. FUCK THAT.

Emboldened by the frustrated growls sounding out in response to his outburst, Killer darted up from his seat, sockets fixed upon the wooden grooves of the bar top as his soul fizzled with sparks of determination.

Immediately, he could feel the heavy intent hovering over the back of his neck. As well as saw the tell-tale glow of Dust’s magic reflecting in the multitude of abandoned bottles.

He didn’t even flinch as he craned his skull back to see the craggily ridges in Horror’s axe glint menacingly under the dim light. In the corner of his eye, he could see Dust braced for a lunge, a slew of bones twirling over his shoulder in caution.  But instead of feeling threatened, Killer felt a spark of inspiration.

“Let’s team up.” He proposed, his voice cutting through the tension much like his favored knives.

Dust’s sockets narrowed, and Horror’s grip tightened on his axe. “What kind of bullshit are you on now..?”

Killer shook his head, a manic grin twitching wider, meaner, sharper across his face. “So you’re just gonna spend the rest of your lives living under the thumbs of those sanctimonious pricks? You two hated your worlds enough to find a way out into this multiverse, but now that the enemy ain’t some cheating little brat, you wanna call it quits?”

Neither looked amused - good, that’s exactly what he wanted - and Killer could taste the bitterness feeding into their LV. 

Dust was the first to speak, his voice dripping with skepticism as he let the bones drop- but not yet dissipate. “So, you think teaming up will solve all our problems? You think we can take on Gods, Killer? Seriously?”

He didn’t let his expression waver. He leaned backwards instead, forcing his bones to languidly stretch out along the bar top in a show of confidence. “I’m saying we can be stronger together. We’ve all had enough of our lives being determined by someone else, haven’t we?”

Feeling a bit audacious, Killer reached out and flicked the remaining bone attack from Dust’s loose hold, sending it clattering to the floor in a playful, teasing manner. The typically neurotic maniac didn’t even seem to flinch.

“C’mon Dusty… don’t tell me you went and collected all that LV just to play it safe.. Maybe getting out of that comfort zone of your’s will finally help you loosen up a lil’.”

Horror's grip on his axe loosened slightly, a malicious grin slowly growing along his features as he let it settle over his shoulder. “You know what..? Fuck it.. why the hell not? I’ve been wanting to show that little… blue pet of theirs a thing or two.”

Dust still looked skeptical, but there was a flicker of interest, of temptation, in his sockets that Killer was quick to latch on to. “You really think we can take them on..? The Star Sanses aren’t just powerful, they’re connected. They’ve got resources, allies, and a moral high ground that makes them practically untouchable.”

Killer’s head tilted, a coy smirk rising up in the shadows of his features as he chuckled, “the game wouldn’t be half as fun though, would it..?”

. . . . .

He knew the moment Dust’s grin rose to match his own, he’d won himself a couple of new playmates.

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Yeonjun's Love Reading

Okay, time to get to Yeonjun. I am always fascinated by what he has to share, so let's see what I get here.

We start off with a lovely card for a love reading, the house 7 card, which is about intimate and romantic partnerships, so there could be a significant partner in his life right now. We then go to the 3 of Cups, this could have started out as a friendship, or they know each other through mutual friends, but it seems they have a good time together. They may be both very social people and have lots of friends and gather with friends a lot.

I see him being a very loving and supporting boyfriend, providing for his partner whenever they need him. I say he is pretty dependable as a boyfriend. I can see him being like a good friend to his partner, not just a lover, but a friend as well. He seems very loyal and supportive. Someone his partner can lean on in times of need.

I do see a feminine energy or female here, a loving and nurturing person. I can see love here and a connection here. He may be the first one I read for that might be in a loving stable relationship at the moment. I see them having a lot of fun together. I see them going out a lot and having fun. These two are definitely not home bodies, they like to go out, have fun and play. It seems there are a lot of good vibes and good times, and they seem to enjoy the company of one another.

But I am now starting to see things take a turn, go a bit downhill, this went fast, it starts really jovial, but then we go to the Magician card, this is my single and ready to mingle card. I am not sure you can tie Yeonjun down for long. I say dating him would be fun, but this boy may like the single life and his options more. I can see him possibly cheating, but no facts and none of these cards show me certainty that he did, but I feel that with this Magician card.

It is like he has a lot of love that he can't just contain it to one person. Also, he is pretty charming and confident in himself, so he seems he can flirt with anyone and everyone he can. I can't see him keeping his eye on just one person. So, it seems he has moved on from this person and trying to move past the baggage. It just seems he has a lot on his plate to date someone seriously. It is wild how abrupt the change happened in this spread, like it was all happy and rainbows and then bam, he is moving on, like it felt so abrupt in this spread. It is like you had the 4 of wands with the Queen of cups all happy together, to him being single and moving past the bullshit, like that is a crazy twist of events. That was weird.

So, he got the 4 of wands again in a different deck, this shows me he loves the good vibes and good times but isn't a fan of the downsides to relationships and could leave if it starts showing in a relationship. It is like once the honeymoon phase ends, he is not feeling it anymore, because things start to get stressful and real and I feel his job is stressful enough, so he doesn't want another stressor added on to it. He likes the dating and the fun and a bit of the connection too, not the drama and fights and challenges he could face.

So, we end with Yin, this is a time for him to be patient. To be receptive, to go within and maybe take time for himself to figure out how he can work and deal with future relationships. This is a time for him to step back and not take much action regarding his love life.

Man, he took me for a ride, for a minute I thought he was in a stable relationship, but nope. He just took me on a journey lol Not going lie it was fun. He is one of my favorites to read for. He is so interesting to me, but yeah, pretty non-committal. I say he has qualities of a good boyfriend and friend, but I say he is a better friend than boyfriend, due to the fact if things get rough, he is gone. Man, his individual boyfriend reading will be fun to do when I get to that series I plan to do in the future.

[hell-drabbles]

I imagine Companion will go back to human world but would treat Hell/Heaven like a vacation home after all the trouble is finally over and sorted

They'd like visit Hell occasionally maybe just during the Winter months or something like for Lucifer

Also what would Companion and Solomon's relationship be like if they had ever met?

I might write a Companion and Solomon piece now

What if Companion was alive in Solomon's time rather then Ra-On's

Dante Anon

Hmm that's assuming I have this Embittered Companion AU end on a happy note. I kid I kid, though I would imagine that instead of vacation home, it be more like visiting relatives on the Companion's part? It's not the place they're attached to so much as the people there.

Anyways hhohohoho I have thoughts!! Read under the cut, because I ramble.

Though, I wouldn't be shock if there were angels and devils that are trying to make excuses and events to have the Companion stay longer. They want the Companion to treat Hell and Heaven like a vacation home but the Companion has a lot of fun not giving them what they want. And it ends up sparking a weird rivalry between the angels and devils on who can get the Companion to treat their realm as a vacation spot first. That would be funny.

Anyways...

If anything, the Companion probably visits those places every once in a while just to make sure things aren't going to shit. Probably had a few scares that another war was brewing because of the amount of chaos happening in Hell and Heaven, but nope that's just their default state of being. Angels and devils are always brimming with the need to fight and fuck so they just express it openly, to the detriment of the buildings around them.

One of those "I care for them but boy am I not in the mood to handle what drama will come of it." Because there will always be drama. The Companion is cursed with that bad luck!

Hmm the Companion and Solomon interacting... Well, let's see, I would imagine hostility(shocker, I know right?) on the Companion's part because the first time they've met him would be when Solomon temporarily takes over Ra-on's body and that's a big no no in their books. Though, what is the Companion to do besides do their usual verbal threats? They can't just punch the problem out of Ra-on, because that's his body they're hitting.

And, well, obviously Solomon can't hate the Companion in any capacity because he's lived long enough to know that this anger is coming from care in their heart. He's got that kind of long lived wisdom to him that sort of pisses off the Companion because no matter what the Companion says, he won't flinch of falter at any of the words they say. He pities them and every other devil and even Ra-on. Solomon has basically endless patience and the Companion can't help but interpret that as him treating all of them like they're children. Like his years of experience automatically makes him obligated to teach them, so any advice he tries to give tends to snub the Companion the wrong way. Any advice given to the Companion when they're angry tends to translate to "There's something wrong with your way of life, your independence, so I'm gonna give you advice so you can correct that."

Because lord knows Ra-on tried to do the "protagonist gives life advice and wisdom when they have no experience to justify or explain it," to the Companion and it escalated to a huge argument. You know, when the dating sim protagonist somehow say the right words towards a love interest that is having their second act breakdown. The kind of words that are very much holier than thou but because they're the "right words," the love interest takes them in and is forever changed. So yeah, who is Ra-on to think he's in any position to give life advice to someone like the Companion who has their shit together?

And ho, if the Companion was alive during Solomon's time? Man, imagine some reincarnation bullshit where the Companion and Solomon were very close friends, where Solomon had a crush on the Companion at one point but they were lost to the sands of time or disease or an angel attack? Either way, the Companion is the Lost Lenore to Solomon and man did he spend a long time mourning for them. Solomon passes, lays dormant for who knows how long until Solomon reawakens again in Ra-on though his blood. He pities the descendant that has to undo all his contracts, has to inherit all the troubles that Solomon had left behind,

And then Solomon sees the exact face he thought was forever lost. Solomon can't say a word, can't even breathe.

And just as Solomon is about to run to them, to embrace them as he always wanted, the Companion glares, grabs this body by the shoulders and growls, "Who the fuck are you?"

Wouldn't that be a time?

[osaemu]

could you do professor aizawa who has a student always running late to lectures and loud and annoying. And he catches her breaking the law (doing graffiti or something) and threatens to expel her but comes to a compromise and sees a different side of her? If not anything u write is amazing anyways! ❤️❤️

ミ★ who says? 🜚

pairing: aizawa x reader

summary: your reputably strict teacher catches you breaking the law – minor offense or not, who knows how he'll react?

word count: ~1.5k

warnings: no explicit romantic interest, but you can interpret it that way if you want. cursing. graffiti? mentions of illegal activities. half-baked character backstory. barely proofread.

a/n: hey anon! sorry this took a while, i just haven't really been motivated lately so um my bad! i wasn't sure if you wanted the request in a romantic way so i went the safe route, just lmk if you want me to write another one!

"what the hell are you doing?"

caught off guard by the sudden sound of a deep voice, you yelp and quickly turn around. a tall, dark figure emerges from the shadowed alley behind you, and to your dismay, it's your taciturn professor.

fuck.

"oh, hey, sir!" you say hurriedly, desperately trying to appear casual while leaning to the left a little. you attempt to hide the neon spray paint decorating the wall behind you, even though you know your efforts are futile. "...what are you doing here?"

aizawa scowls and takes a step forward, letting the flickering lamplight illuminate him. "cut the bullshit and answer the question," he says irritably. 

that would be a problem. his eyes were already trailing to the paint behind you, and the last thing you wanted to do was explain why you were in a dark alley in the middle of the night.

you should've expected that he'd be here, lurking the corners of the city like a stray cat. actually, was that a tuft of cat hair on his shoulder?

well, whether the answer was yes or no, there was certainly a scowl on your teacher's sharp features. the shadowed alley and dim lamplight further accentuate his face, and it's right then when you realize that hey, your teacher was kinda...

nope. not going there.

thankfully, aizawa didn't really give you the time to reflect on your possibly-broken brain before his narrow eyes focused on the neon scene behind you. "the hell is that?"

when you don't immediately answer, his sharp gaze lands on you. his scowl deepens before he continues "listen, i have a busy night. i can't be dealing with a student's mess right now." he nods at the graffiti behind you and wrinkles his nose slightly. "explain yourself, and make it damn quick."

fuckkk.

you knew better than to argue at this point, so out with the carefully curated story you had dreamt up the night before.

"oh, this?" you wave your hand at the graffiti. "nope, wasn't me. i stumbled upon it and i was trying to figure out who did it. you wouldn't happen to know, would you?"

well, the excuse sounded better in your head. out loud, it sounded a lot like a rather pathetic lie, despite the way you tried to turn it around on your unamused teacher at the end.

to your dismay, aizawa sighs and massages his temples with his calloused fingers before looking down at you, somehow looking even more irritated than before. "if you don't want to talk to me, you can talk to the principal instead."

oh, shit. you couldn't get in trouble again, especially for something as stupid for this. you were already on thin ice with u.a's insanely-patient staff, and even then, you didn't want to push your luck.

"ah, no, never mind!" you say quickly. despite your chronic carelessness, you were genuinely grateful that you were at u.a, and it wasn't worth jeopardizing your spot over a little fun. "i'll talk, i'll talk."

"damn right, you will," aizawa snaps, pulling a water bottle out of nowhere and opening it. "explain this," he says, waving at the graffiti before taking a sip of the water. "and cut the bullshit. straight to the point."

seeing as you have no choice, you decide to tell him half the truth. you'd rather keep the last part to yourself, and frankly, it felt plausible enough.

"it was just a dare," you mumble, carefully monitoring your expression to make the half-truth believable. "lost a bet to my roommate, and i had to do something illegal."

"you couldn't have just stolen some alcohol or something?"

"are you condoning theft and underage drinking?"

aizawa scowls again, but there's an amused undertone to the scoff he lets out a second later. "just sayin', there's plently of other illegal activities that don't involve damaging public property."

you shrug. "seemed like something memorable."

"so, you want to tell me the whole truth now?" your teacher says dryly. when you look up, surprise visible on your face, he shakes his head. "don't try to hide things from a high school teacher. i've seen it all, now spit it out."

you sigh and look away, frantically thinking about ways to squirm out of this situation. but no matter how many half-formed plans you concocted, you knew that there was no escaping an explanation.

"fuck." you didn't mean to curse out loud, but the word somehow escaped your lips. fuck.

surprsingly, your muttered curse drew out an amused half-smirk on your typically stone-faced teacher. so the way to his heart is through curse words. noted.

"watch your language," aizawa says offhandedly. his tone and body language make it clear that he's only saying that out of obligation, not because he gives a shit. "and watch the damn clock. i don't have all night. i'm a hero, for god's sake."

"oh, yeah, my bad." well, it wasn't like you had any choice at this point. 

so you reluctantly tell him about how you never really got to enjoy your elementary and middle school years because the atmosphere was so competitive. because everyone wanted to get into u.a. and even though you didn't really care as much as the others overcome by the hero-fever, you couldn't stand being the only one left out. so the years of your life where you were supposed to enjoy youth were thrown away in pursuit of a far-off success. 

it all kind of came tumbling out, one sentence after the other, and when you finish your sob story, you realize that you probably just word-vomited all over your teacher, who probably doesn't care.

what if i just die of embarrassment?

aizawa doesn't respond to your words for a heartwrenching second, and right when you're sure he won't, he speaks.

"that explains why you're so damn immature. always running late to lectures, passing notes in class, and more focused on theatrics than content, yeah?"

the words sting, and it probably shows on your face, because a second later your teacher's stern expression softens.

"could be worse," he mutters, pulling out his phone and checking the time. "c'mon, i'll walk you back to the dorms. can't have you out alone in this part of town this late."

aizawa beckons for you to follow him, and when he starts walking, you jog behind him to catch up. "wait, so am i in trouble?"

he continues walking with his hands in his pockets but looks over his shoulder at you, expression unreadable. "i won't report this to admin, so not officially. but you're in a shit-ton of trouble with me."

"watch your language," you mumble, suppressing a grin when his dark eyes narrow into a glare. "what? can't take your own advice?"

he scoffs. "watch it. i'm still your teacher."

"yes, sir."

"damn right."

the rest of the walk back to the dorms happens mostly in silence, and when you finally arrive well past midnight, he walks off without another word.

it doesn't feel right to let him leave without a thank you, so as his dark shadow blends into the night, you call "thanks! and good night!"

and maybe you imagine it, but you could've sworn that he raises his hand in a farewell gesture as he disappears into the darkness.

"so, what happened? you in trouble?" your wide-awake roommate croons, looking at you curiously. "i saw you come back with mr. aizawa – are you expelled? he does that a lot."

you pause, toothbrush halfway to your mouth. your roommate's right. aizawa does have quite the reputation for being a di- a rather harsh teacher to his students. and honestly, he had every reason to expel you, or at least threaten to tonight.

your roommate repeats your name a couple times before you zone back in and smile distractedly.

"no, you're still stuck with me," you reply, staring blankly in the mirror. 

"huh. that's weird."

yeah, it really is.

"fuck, you damned hero! keep you and your righteous head out of my damn busine-"

aizawa tightens his hold on the low-grade villain's hair and scoffs when the guy yowls in pain. "i get paid to deal with your bullshit."

"you damn heroe-"

before the villain can say the rest of his statement, aizawa jams his fist into the man's mouth and uses the other hand to call the poilce. after a brief summary of the capture, the police send a couple cars over and retrieve the villain.

aizawa watches them drive off, dark eyes tracing the cloudy horizon. his mind flickers back to earlier today, when he found one of his more... problematic students graffiting a back alley.

had it been anyone else in their place, they would've recieved a severe warning or expulsion on the spot. but, unlike what some of the kids said about him, he wasn't cruel – he was a teacher. and a damn good one at that.

most cases were solved by the simple threat of expulsion. but in cases where a threat would make things worse, sometimes letting the culprit go without an explanation worked better.

a sigh slips through aizawa's dry lips as they curl upwards into a smile. he wouldn't be so nice next time.

a/n: if you read all that, i'm sorry for the shitshow of a fic that was 😭 it's been a hot minute since i wrote for mha, and even then the plot was super rushed fjsjdjsjd

i promise my jjk and bsd writing is better check my profile i pinkie promise 🙏🙏 love u lots

if by any chance u actually liked this, reblogging would help me out of my misery thanks sm

[mags-writes]

Sunlight || Part VII

Summary: frank gets some insight

Series Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical swearing, first time writing x reader, no use of y/n, no beta readers we die like ray nadeem

Pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

Authors Note: a short one so I can properly finish the last chapter

PROLOGUE/MASTERLIST || PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V || PART VI || PART VII || PART VIII

You blankly stared out at the fatherly love pouring from John Pilgrim as he held his sons to him in a hug that you knew was the most comforting thing those boys would ever feel.

The phantom itch of your own father's arms wrapping around you made your skin crawl knowing that it wasn't real and that you'd never feel that again. And not because of the John Pilgrim that was hugging his children in front of you, but a different, more deranged John Pilgrim that was still running around back in your dimension. A man with the same face and same voice.

"She refused any pain meds that would actually get rid of the pain so she's got a little relief and she's a bit loose-lipped." You heard distantly.

Amy sat down in front of you, blocking your view of John and you smiled warmly at her.

"Hey, baby." You said.

"Hey. How are you feeling?" She asked.

"Better, now that I've got some more fluids in me." You look at the IV and blood bag sitting next to one another that was hooked up to you. "How about you? You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." You knew she was rattled but you also knew that she was a tough kid and that she needed a few night's sleep before she felt more at ease. "Frank's worried about you though. He's like a kicked puppy-"

"Hey." Frank interrupted, sitting down next to you and kicking Amy's legs. "It's rude to lie."

"Yeah, sure thing Pete." She retorted with a smirk.

She got up leaning down to give your arm a squeeze before walking away again.

"Are you saying you're not worried for me?" You teased, nudging him with your shoulder.

"As if you'd want me to be." He replied, nudging you back. "Can I ask you somethin'?"

"You saw me shove a knife into a man's throat, Frankie," You laugh, looking at him with that sweet smile. "You don't have to ask that anymore."

"Okay, fair enough." He chuckles before setting you with his own smile. "That thing you did. The Mississippi countin'. What was that?"

"Oh, that." You teeter back a little before settling with a small smile. "Jack Murdock, Matt's dad, taught me how to throw a proper punch when I was six when he saw what my older brothers were like. It wasn't his fault but it just encouraged me to get angry. Then when the accident with Matt happened, and I started having to look out for my younger brothers as well as my older brothers, I just got so goddamn angry." You paused, going to show him your right hand but forgetting about the bandages. "You can't see it but there's a small scar from where I knocked out the two front teeth of this kid that was picking on Matt. I was sick of being the one keeping my brothers safe for their sake and then getting in trouble, being told I should mind my own business."

"Yeah, that's bullshit." Frank said, bringing his arm to rest across your shoulders and bringing you into his side.

"Jack talked to my parents and convinced them to let him train me in boxing." You laid your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes.

"That's where those light feet come from." Frank joked, making you smile bashfully and turn your face into his neck briefly.

"Yeah. Before he died, he taught me to put a pin in my anger." You open your eyes again, looking down at the bandages on your hands. "Take as long as I need to count to three but I better have a lid on it by three Mississippi's or I'd get my head rung in."

"Was he ever wrong?"

"Nope."

"Hey." You jumped at Dinah sneaking up on you again. "Sorry."

"Nope, gotta get used to it." You said and she took the seat across from you that Amy had. "You good?"

"I should be asking you that." She replied, nodding down to your hands. "They say it's gonna be a few weeks before you can actually use your hands."

"Yeah, don't know how I'm gonna cook anything." You brought your bandaged hands up in front of your face, frowning at them and wincing when you tried to move them.

"Karen and I have been talking," She leaned forward on her elbows on her thighs, giving you a serious look. "We're all going to help you move in with me."

You drop your hands, eyes widening a fraction. "Dinah, no, you don't have to do that for me."

"You're not going to be able to take care of yourself during the day with Frank and Matt off at their jobs." She said, reaching out and taking a hold of your wrist.

"What, and you can?"

"I got a promotion recently so I can take some time and transfer it all to work from home and maybe have an odd office day." She squeezed your wrist slightly. "That way I can help you recover."

"Dinah, you don't know me."

"I know that those boys would still be in danger if it weren't for you." She said earnestly. "I'm not going to let you sleep on a couch while you're in recovery."

"But..." You stuttered, looking at Frank for a second before looking back at her. "I make them lunches. And Dinners."

Dinah pauses, giving you a look like she can't believe what just came out of your mouth.

"Why the hell are you making lunch and dinner for two grown men?"

"I'm Italian!" You whined, bringing your hands up. "It's what I do!"

"Hey," Frank squeezed you to his side and brought his mouth to your ear making you shiver. "Quit bein' so stubborn."

You sigh, finally relenting. "Fine."

"I'm also hiring you." She adds, standing up and smirking.

"Pardon?"

\\\\

Tagged: @danzer8705 (sorry for forgetting to tag you in the last chapter!)

[caffeine-clouds]

Sonic Characters When They're Sick

Hi, I'm sick - which is fun. But this gives me a good excuse to make yet another post. How Sonic characters act when they or their friends are sick, let's go hoes:

Sonic: He has two moods. When he just has mild sniffles? The WHOLE world knows about it;. He whines with the worst case of man flu imaginable and acts like he's about to die - much to the annoyance of everyone around him.

However, when he has a sickness you should worry about? No, you won't know about it. He'll keep trucking along to the best of his ability until he faints. As for when his friends are sick? He's more likely to laugh than anything else before running to get some medication.

Tails: He's smart so he actually knows like - how to take care of himself. He has a tendency to downplay his symptoms though but thankfully Sonic can spot when Tails is going through a rougher patch than he's letting on. The only time Tails will neglect looking after himself is when he's currently working on a big project and he doesn't want to stop - regardless of his sickness. Sleepless nights end up only making things worse and you get the point. Sonic or Amy has to drag him away from his work as a result.

Knuckles: For a guy who's lived in the wilderness all his life and has never stepped foot in a hospital - he's only gotten sick once in his life, guess he built up his immunity. He's got all the natural herbal remedies ready to go for his friends and basically goes into full-blown crunchy mom mode when he hears they're struggling. You have medicine in your hand? Nope, nope. Put that down. He's got the flowers, herbs, salts, and essential oils right here - you'll be just fine.

Amy: Again, as a functioning member of society - she knows how to take care of herself. She balances it out - she has both medicine and natural remedies to treat herself and others. She is doting on others when they're sick, especially Tails. Although she doesn't have patience for Sonic's bullshit. She WILLL show up to your house with dozens of baked goods because sugar = happiness, simple equation.

Rouge: Drama Queen, period. Homegirl is dramatic even when it's just a common cold. This has had an undesirable effect on her teammates that we will discuss later. She lays on the couch under a blanket, tub of ice cream in hand and watch whatever TV show she's been meaning to binge. Being ill is an excuse to be chill - that's her motto. She might remember to take actual medicine.

Shadow: Can't get sick. But when someone around him is sick, his germaphobe mode fucking activates. He will be cleaning the same countertop for ten minutes straight, very vigurously. Why? Because Rouge ended up accidentally teaching him that all form of Mobian sickness is the end of the world and in his mind - anyone could die from a cold if untreated. He does not want it spreading, and if he could get Rouge to wear a hazmat suit - he would. He's the one reminding everyone else to take their fucking meds.

Omega: He doesn't really understand the concept of sickness all that much but when he sees Rouge in pain - his instict is to go straight to the source. He will interrogate to find out who she caught it from and will proceed to beat up that person if they fail to stop him. Although let's be frank - he's mainly just feigning his ignorance at this point so he can have an excuse to get violent.

Blaze: Again, knows how to take medicine and keep herself hygenic. Often doted on by castle staff allthough she doesn't really like it when it happens. She will keep insisting she can carry out her royal duties instead of taking rests - which can have poor effects. But again, castle staff are there to stop her from going too far. Her friends also encourage her to rest because they know of this habit of hers. If her friends are sick - she'll make sure they have their meds, a place to rest, and a warm cup of tea before leaving them so she can go about her day.

Silver: Surprisingly the most competent in dealing with sickness alongside Amy. Again, a surprisingly strong immune system despite how much ash he's probably inhaled over the years. Maybe chaos energy exoposure fixed it - who knows? But anyways - he rests, he takes his medicine, but if he hears his friends are in a fight he will show up to it regardless of how he feels. When his friends are sick - he's supportive, always checking in to offer company and he's texting cute cat GIFs to cheer people up.

Tangle: She's got you, okay? She'll make you a nice drink - hot chocolate - with cream and sprinkles - she's on it, she'll give you snacks, she will find her old video game consoles and comics to keep you entertained, she will get you dozens of blankets - everything you need! Everything... except... medicine. She has a tendency to forget the important part.

Whisper: If she doesn't know you too well, she'll pass you the paracetamol with the longest piece of apparatus she can find so she doesn't have to get too close to you. If she is close to you however, (i.e. Tangle) - she is fretting, girl is waiting on hands and knees, she is ready to give you EVERYTHING you need - you just gotta say the word.

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Court Of Public Opinion - Andy Barber x Reader (Part 4)

A/N: This is the sequel series to Memory Served and will contain major spoilers for that series so go read that one first if you haven’t already!

Summary: As news breaks about who your abductor was, things get more complicated

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: Angst! Language! Gas Lighting!

Dividers by me!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 4

Staring up at the trees you watched as the small amount of light dabbled through the leaves, many of which were beginning to take on an orange hue. The last time you’d been in this part the path was covered in blossom, the sweet smell of spring wafting through the air. Now dead leaves littered the floor, the air was turning chilly. 

You had missed the entirety of summer. You didn’t see all the kids out on summer break running around and playing. You didn’t see the many, many barbeques that filled the park during the 4th of July weekend. You experienced a summer, but not the summer you knew. 

“I’m so glad my nausea is gone but dog shit is gross at the worst of times” Carrie grumbled as she stepped back towards you. 

You shook your head slightly to rid yourself of the fog that clouded your mind “Oh sorry I should have offered” You apologise. 

Carrie gives you a small kind smile “It’s okay, I could tell you needed space for a moment” 

You let out a long guilty sigh as you look down at your feet, kicking some of the leaves “I’m sorry” you apologise. 

“Nope, we aren’t doing any of that apologising bullshit,” Carrie says looping her arm through yours as you began to walk “I get it, what happened doesn’t just go away and if you need to talk about whatever you were just thinking about then we got you” she continues nodding down to Nova who wagged her tail. 

“I was just-” you start before taking a deep breath “It's weird, to me this place has gone from spring to autumn, there’s a whole four months missing, but I remember summer I was just another person… I dunno I don’t think I’m explaining it well” you sigh shaking your head. 

“No I get it, I understand how disorientating it must be, coming back and so much has changed in an instant, it’s like you time-travelled or got stuck in a quantum realm or something” Carrie reassures you. 

You couldn’t help but let out a small snort “Quantum realm?” you questioned to which she let out a long and dramatic sigh.

“Harrison won’t let me watch Rom-coms or anything like that because I’m getting too emotional and it’s not fair on him to constantly console me, which I get, I’m a fucking mess at the moment because of these hormones, I cried at a diaper advert yesterday” she explains.

You bite your lips to stop yourself from laughing “A diaper advert?”

“It had a cute baby which made me excited for our cute baby and then sad because it’s still ages until we meet our cute baby” Carries explains making you chuckle “Anyway, so in the meantime we’ve settled on sci-fi movies, they’re not that bad to be honest” 

You could no longer hold back your laughter and a real smile appeared on your face “Well you’ll have to give me and Andy some recommendations” You smiled. 

“I’ll have a list ready for your next date night” Carrie winks. 

Your smile falters for a moment as your mind goes back to your date nights with Andy. Things had been getting better and it felt more normal but still just felt incredibly delicate. You felt like you were just waiting for the moment that he would break and the illusion would shatter. It was why you were trying so hard to be normal, stop letting the shadow of Ransom loom over you. Because in those normal moments, Andy still loved you, you weren’t tainted if he could forget what happened for just a moment then the chances of him leaving you were smaller.

You clear your throat as you pick a straw fibre from your jacket sleeve “Thank you, so what are you planning to do for Halloween?” you ask desperate to change the topic.

Carrie’s eyes instantly lit up because Halloween was her favourite time of the year, she and Harrison always killed it with their costumes. You and Andy tried to compete one year but it was pointless, Carrie and Harrison were the king and queen of Halloween. She then goes on to explain in great detail that the party is called ‘things that go bump in the night’ and that her costume is Kane from Alien. 

As she talked you tried to focus on everything she was saying but you began to feel your ears burn and gazes on your back. You glanced over your shoulder a couple of times to see a pair of joggers behind you whispering, they both quickly jog past the two of you though. You shake your head slightly, they were probably just keeping their own conversation low as they passed you so they weren’t rude, not because they were talking about you. 

You returned your attention back to Carrie and her elaborate plans to decorate her house for the party. However, you began to notice more people sparing glances your way as they passed by. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up from all the attention. 

You knew it was inevitable though, this was a small town so people talked, you were still the big news story. You were just glad it seemed to be getting better though, people were calling by the house less. You preferred curious glances over continual questions and having to relive it all over and over again, putting on a brave face when all you wanted to do was tell them to fuck off and mind their own business. 

“Oh and we got Nova the coolest spider costume too, you know from that viral video” Carrie continued.

You were about to respond when two teenage girls just appeared out of nowhere in front of you “Oh my god it’s you! You have to tell us everything about him!” One of them said, starstruck looks in their eyes.

You and Carrie exchanged a confused glance, even Nova tilted her head “I’m sorry who?” You ask.

“Harlan Thrombey!” The other girl exclaims, one of Harlan’s books now obvious in her hand.

“Oh… I um-“ you stutter taken aback “he was nice, I only met him a few times” 

The girls in front of you continue to fangirl, bombarding you with questions that left both you and Carrie in a state of shock.

“Did he tell you about his new book?”

“What about that Netflix series?” 

“Is it true he has a massive collection of knives?”

“Who does he think the watcher is?”

“And ohmygod his Grandson Ransom is so hot! What was he like? I bet he’s so dreamy!”

That last question snapped both you and Carrie out of your shocked states. It felt like a bucket of ice-cold water had been dumped on you, while you could practically feel the heat of Carrie’s anger.

“Excuse me? You do know he abducted her and held her against her will?” Carrie seethes.

“How- how did you even know?” You mutter feeling your stomach turning.

“They announced it on the news this morning,” one of the girls said with a look that said ‘obviously’.

Had you known that? You weren’t sure. The detectives must have let Andy know that they were going to finally name Ransom today. Had he told you last night or this morning and you had just blocked it out? Or had he purposely not told you because he hated that you were tied to Ransom?

“Honestly I don’t blame you, I couldn’t think of a man better than Ransom, he has the looks, the money, the family” the other girl continues and the hearts in her eyes made you want to vomit.

Carrie absolutely exploded after hearing that, she already had the protective mama bear instinct and being pregnant just made it so much stronger. You knew she was completely ripping into the two girls and letting them know exactly how wrong they were but you couldn’t hear her over the ringing in your ears.

You blinked a couple of times when you felt someone tugging your elbow. Your vision refocused and you could see the girls were long gone and Carrie was leading you out of the park and back home. As you walked the ringing in your ears slowly began to subside and be replaced with Carrie muttering about how twisted those girls must be to see Ransom as a hero.

“You okay?” Carrie then asked fully snapping you back into the moment.

You blinked a couple of times and realised you were back home, standing outside your front door. Carrie must have been waiting for you to unlock it when she noticed you weren’t completely there.

“Yeah,” you managed to say fishing your keys from your pocket and unlocking the door.

“Don’t listen to those girls okay, they’re clearly just crime fanatics who refuse to see their hero as the person they really are” Carrie tells you as she follows you into the house, letting Nova off her lead.

You just nod as you walk into the kitchen. As you pass the island you spot a note from Andy saying he’s gone out for groceries and to donate the last of the pasta dishes to the homeless shelter. You breathed out a sigh of relief that he wasn’t in, you didn’t want him to hear about what had just happened. What happened wasn’t normal, you needed normal.

“Do you want me to call Andy?” Carrie then asks gently.

You shake your head “No it's okay” you tell her “I’m fine, he’ll just worry and come straight home when he doesn’t need to” 

“Okay, are you sure you’re okay? It's okay if you’re not” Carrie reminds you.

You force a brave smile “Yeah it just threw me that's all like you said they’re immature girls with an unhealthy obsession with a celebrity” you tell her “I just have to remember I have the evidence on my side”

Carrie gives you a proud smile “Exactly, no amount of fangirls will be able to protect him” she says as she wraps her arm around you.

“Thank you though for getting me out, standing in my corner and getting me home,” you tell her with a grateful smile.

“It's nothing just give me and Nova a shout whenever you need it, I should probably get her home now but if you need us to stay we can stay” Carrie offers as she scratches Nova behind the ear.

“No I’m good, you get on home so Nova can have her post-walk treat” You smile down at Nova who was wagging her tail excitedly.

“Oh yes can’t forget about that” Carrie grinned as she put Nova back on the leash.

You follow Carrie back to the front door, as you did so you thought back to those girls in the park. If Andy had been there it would have gone down so much worse, hearing about how people fawned over Ransom, remind him of how you’d been with him, slept with him. You didn’t want those reminders.

“Don’t tell Andy about today” you suddenly say as Carrie opens the door.

Carrie freezes and looks back over at you, her eyes studying you for a moment “I won’t but… I think you should” she says gently

“I will I promise, I just want it to come from me” you lied, you would avoid telling him for as long as possible.

“Good,” Carrie says watching you for another moment before smiling “Just ring me when you need me” 

“I will thank you” You smile giving her a small wave before closing the door and heading back to the kitchen.

You moved to make yourself a warm drink to warm yourself back up but then spotted a pile of mail beside the note Andy had left. One of the jobs that had kept you busy was going through all the mail that you missed while you were gone. Andy had already sorted the bills you had but there was still lots left over so dealing with mail as it came helped.

Flipping through the pile you saw a lot of it was for Andy anyway but at the end was a letter for you. When you saw the handwriting you instantly felt sick, your legs feeling weak as you just about managed to sit down. It was Ransom’s handwriting. 

Your first instinct was to call Andy but just as you reached for your phone you froze. You had no idea what was in this letter, it could be a confession, a threat, or it could detail everything you did with Ransom. You knew that Ransom liked to play mind games, he would want to get under Andy’s skin.

No, you needed to find out what was in here first, then you would decide if you would show Andy or not. With shaking hands, you ripped open the envelope and unfolded the letter.

Kitten,

I don’t understand what happened. I thought you were happier. Happier with me. I’ve been lied to all my life by my parents, I know how to spot a lie. So I know it wasn’t a lie when you told me you loved me. I’m sorry though I should have told you the truth, but when they told me that you lost your memory I saw my chance. You promised you were going to leave him anyway so I thought that it would be easier for you if I didn’t remind you of him. I see now that it was wrong and I’m sorry, we can fix this and get through this together. I can’t wait to have you back in my arms, my house, my bed, where you belong. I love you kitten and I won’t stop fighting for us.

Love Ransom x

The letter fell out of your hands as you stumbled back struggling to take a breath. Your hand cupped your mouth as you gagged, your legs feeling weak. You couldn’t believe the lies Ransom was trying to sell, how he was trying to convince you that he was telling the truth. You would never leave Andy, not for anyone or any reason. 

You couldn’t show this to Andy, you couldn’t have Ransom’s lies poisoning him. You could already feel the doubts and the hesitancy, you couldn’t make it worse by showing him a letter that would remind him of all the horrible things you did. 

You had to act fast, you had no clue when he’d be home, you had to destroy this letter. Your hands were still shaking as you picked the letter back up and rushed over to the fireplace. Grabbing some kindling you got the fire going, using a match to set the letter alight and throw it into the fire. 

A heavy feeling settled in your gut as you watched the letter burn. It was guilt, guilt that you were even in this position to begin with, the guilt of all the things you did with Ransom, guilt that you were hiding this from Andy. You thought for a second that maybe you should have shown it to him, the police could have done something, but it was too late the letter was just ash now. 

The sound of the front door opening had you quickly standing up, Andy poked his head into the living room his brows furrowed slightly “Why’s the fire going?” he asked. 

“Oh um it was quite cold after the walk with Carrie so I thought I’d make it nice and cosy” you lied brushing dust off of your hands. 

A smile tugs at Andy’s lips “Sounds nice, let me put this away and I’ll make us some hot drinks too” he offers. 

“Sounds great,” you say with a sigh of relief that he didn’t question it further, he gives you another smile before going to step away. 

All of sudden you considered telling him the truth even calling out to stop him, but when he looked back at you his brows now furrowed slightly in concern you couldn't do it. So instead you walked the short distance towards him, gently cupping his cheek and reaching up to kiss him. 

“I love you Andy” you whisper. 

Andy tilts his head slightly but still smiles “I love you too honey” he says softly. 

Andy let out a long sigh as he set another pasta dish on the draining board to dry only to look over and see so many more left to wash. He’d finally managed to get on top of all the food the neighbours had been dropping around, he took most of the excess to the homeless shelter, some were still in the freezer and the rest had been eaten. He swore if he ever saw another pasta dish for the rest of his life it would be too soon.

He decided to leave it there for now, the draining board was full anyway, grabbing a cloth he began to dry his hands. As he did so his eyes landed on his laptop, he’d been trying not to do much work on the case since all it did was make him feel angry and inadequate. Every time you’d seen him work on it too he could see the look of sadness in your eyes. 

But you were out today, over at Carrie’s for the afternoon so it would be the perfect opportunity to do it. Maybe he could continue looking into businesses that were near the site of your crash, ask if any of their employees had seen a damaged car drive past. 

He was just making his way around the kitchen island to his laptop when his phone started ringing. He paused throwing the towel on the counter before grabbing his phone and pulling it out to see it was Frank calling him. 

Andy didn’t even get a chance to say hello before Frank was ranting down the phone at him “Whoa, whoa, Frank slow down I can’t hear you, what are you saying?” Andy says plugging his other ear trying to hear Frank better.

He heard Frank take a deep breath before starting again “I just picked Mary up from her university class and she’s in an absolute state over Y/N” Frank explains. 

Andy’s brows furrow in concern “What? Why?” he asks.

“Some kids in class were talking about Y/N and she got all upset over it, Mary still hasn’t told me exactly what they said but she said it was mean and they said Y/N must be lying” Frank explains.

“Shit is Mary okay now?” Andy curses running his hand down his face. 

“She’s calmed down a bit now but she was in floods of tears when I picked her up, I hadn’t told her much about the case because she’s only 8 but I had to explain it all to help her understand it, now she’s upset and wants to talk to Y/N” Frank explains with a heavy sigh. 

“Sure, Y/N’s out with Carrie at the moment but tell Mary that she’ll call as soon as she gets home” Andy promises, worrying about how you’d feel having to talk about all this with Mary. 

“Thanks, I just can’t believe the nerve of those girls how did they even come to that conclusion…shit” Frank mutters “Have you watched Fox News today?”

“No we don’t watch that bullshit, do you?” Andy huffs shaking his head.

“No but I just turned the TV on and you might want to turn it on, I think I’ve found out why those girls said what they did” Frank says. 

Andy frowns walking into the living room and turning on the TV, he quickly changes the channel to Fox News a curse falling from his lips when he sees what Frank meant. Fox News was doing a report on your case but it wasn’t complimentary towards you. The anchors were discussing the case and how they just couldn’t believe Ransom would do what he did.  It only got worse when they cut to an interview with Ransom’s parents.

“So what did you make of the allegations?” the broadcaster asked.

Linda shook her head “Unbelievable, my son would never do anything like that” she said playing the part of a shocked parent well.

“Ransom may have made some mistakes when he was younger but he’s not a criminal, he loved Y/N” Richard continues rubbing Linda’s back soothingly.

“So you don’t believe Ransom held Y/N captive against her will?” The broadcaster asks. 

“No, she was never held against her will” Linda states with a definitive shake of her head “That’s all lies she’s told” 

“When we first met her we were suspicious of her, the romance was such a whirlwind with her pushing Ransom to get married, but we said nothing because he was so in love with her” Richard adds “Now our poor son is in jail for a crime he didn’t commit” 

“What the fuck is all bullshit! They can’t be saying this can they?” Frank exclaims. 

“It's not a police interview or court testimony so yeah they can” Andy grumbles barely containing his anger. 

“So what is Ransom’s side of the story?” The broadcaster asks leaning forward. 

“He’s still not entirely sure what happened, he said they got into a fight and he threatened to call off the wedding and that’s when Y/N stormed out of the house and went to the police and made up this whole story about him abducting her, claiming he used her amnesia against her” Linda exclaims, dabbing her dry eye with a tissue “I knew she only wanted him for his money, we’ve told him this and he still loves her”

“Amnesia?” the broadcaster presses. 

“Yes 4 months ago Y/N was in a terrible accident and lost her memory, she was already planning to leave her partner Andy Barber so Ransom thought it would be easier on her to just pretend she already had” Richard explains with a long sigh “he explained it all in this letter” he adds leaning forward to pass the broadcaster the letter. 

“I can’t believe this, god this family is fucked up” Frank mutters but Andy wasn’t paying him much attention. 

All Andy could focus on were the letters now being shown by Fox News. All of them, while addressed to his parents, were love letters to you. It made Andy sick. He knew he shouldn't but he ended up pausing the screen on one of them to read the letter. He read the way Ransom lamented to his parents, how heartbroken he was. He was trying to win the court of public opinion and relying on his grandfather’s fanbase to do so, it must have already gone viral if Mary had heard about it. 

The sound of the front door opening had Andy looking over his shoulder “I have to go” Andy muttered to Frank who was still ranting on when Andy hung up. 

You had a small smile on your face when you walked in but as soon as your eyes landed on the TV it quickly faded “What is this?” you whispered, your voice breaking. 

“Ransom’s parents went on Fox News to tell his side of the story, it’s ridiculous they must have some connection with the owner or something, they even gave them letters from Ransom” Andy explains with an irritated huff shaking his head, beginning to pace back and forth beginning to rant.

“How- how did they know about them?” you whispered. 

It took Andy a moment to fully process what you said, and when he did he froze and slowly turned back around to face you “What do you mean how do they know about them?” he asks. 

Your eyes widened and you took a small step back “I-I-I- um- I-” you stuttered suddenly getting really flustered.

Andy’s brows furrowed in confusion as he watched you stutter and panic, it was like when he caught a defendant out on the stand. He thought for a moment replaying what you said in the context of the letters, glancing up at the TV he could see that the letter he had paused on didn’t show who it was addressed to. 

“Wait” Andy says holding out his hand “Have you been sent letters from Ransom?” 

You start fiddling with your fingers, looking down at the floor. It was an answer already but Andy was still praying you hadn’t. 

“Yes” you weakly whisper, not looking up from the floor. 

“Why didn’t you tell me!” Andy exclaims in disbelief. 

“I’m sorry I-I thought about it, I wanted to but I just couldn’t” you apologise. 

Andy lets out an irritated huff, he was furious that Ransom had found a way to send letters to you. Prisoners were not allowed any communication with the victims, he must have found a loophole and gotten his parents to forward it on to you. 

“Where are they? What did you do with them?” Andy demands, he needed to shut this down now by taking the letters to the police. 

“I-I burnt the first-” you started before Andy interrupted.

“You burnt them!” he practically shouted in disbelief “Why would you do that? It’s evidence! They’re going to use this against you and say you have something to hide!” 

“Andy I’m sorry i-i-” you stutter shaking your head. 

“He’s already doing everything he can to try and get out of this! We can’t be giving him more ammunition!” Andy roars, his anger and fear getting the better of him. 

“Please stop shouting- I’m sorry- I’m so so sorry” you sobbed completely breaking down. 

Andy’s shoulders dropped as he watched you sob “shit” he muttered to himself walking over “I’m sorry honey I shouldn’t have shouted, I’m angry at him not you” he apologised wrapping his arms around you, breathing out a sigh of relief when you didn’t push him away. 

“I regretted it straight away, I didn’t burn them all just the first, the rest I just hid” you admit looking up at him, tears still streaming down your face.

Andy let out a sigh of relief, they still had something to go to the police with “Okay, why didn’t you tell me about them?” he asked carefully. 

You took a long, deep, shaky breath before answering “I- I didn’t want you to see them” you whispered. 

Andy let out a long sigh “Okay, well we can take those ones to the police because this is witness intimidation and they can put a stop to it, take away his privileges, it’s all going to be okay I promise”

“They can?” you ask, doubt clear in your voice. 

“Yes it’s all going to be okay I promise” Andy swears kissing the top of your head.

“Okay I’ll- I’ll go get them,” you say wiping away the last of your tears and stepping out of Andy’s embrace. 

You felt sick as you made your way upstairs to the bedroom where you had hidden the letters. You had received one every day since the first one, and each time a new one arrived you considered telling Andy but they kept getting more and more graphic and detailed and you just couldn’t bring yourself to. 

You knew it was a mistake now, if Andy was right the police could have put a stop to this already. You just didn’t want him to read all the horrible things you had done. Read how dirty and tainted you were. 

Walking back down the stairs you handed Andy the 6 letters you had received from Ransom, brushing your hands down your arms once he had taken them. He quickly flicked through them and you watched anxiously as his eyes darted over the pages. Thankfully he didn’t read them for long so you hoped he hadn’t read the worst of them. 

He gave you a tight smile as he reached out to take your hand “We’re going to fix this I promise” he says kissing the top of your head quickly “c’mon let’s go” 

You follow after him, nervously picking at your coat that you still wore as Andy pulled his on. You gave him a small smile when he gave you a reassuring one and took your hand. As you stepped outside you spotted a couple of news vans parked outside, Andy must have done too because he picked up the pace towards the car. 

He opened the car door for you but as he did so you noticed something had been spraypainted on your garage door. You quickly tap him on the arm and point it out, his back straightening as he turns and spots the words ‘cheating whore’ written in red spray paint. 

“Fuckers” he growled “I’ll deal with that later I promise,” he says gently pushing you to get in the car, shutting the car door a little harder than he probably meant to.

As Andy made his way around to the driver's seat, you kept your head down brushing your hands down your jeans and picking at your nails. You kept your head down the entire drive to the police station, not only to avoid the press outside your home but to avoid the stares of passersbyers. It felt like everyone you passed was judging you, no longer trusting your side of the story. Glancing up at Andy you began to worry if he was doubting it too. 

Pulling up outside of the police station you could see there was press here too and you suddenly felt sick, your body beginning to shake as you stared up at the building. 

“Hey,” Andy says softly reaching out to take your hand “It’s going to be okay, I promise” 

You nod your head “Won’t this look bad? Us going to the police?” you ask quietly.

“No, it would look worse if the police came to us, by doing this it’s showing we have nothing to hide and we don’t” Andy explains gently squeezing your hand.

You force a small smile before moving to climb out of the car. Andy followed after you, gently taking your hand as you walked into the police station to hand over the letters. You were surprised to find Inspector Blanc putting on his jacket about to leave.

“Ah I was just about to come find you” he smiles when he spots you. 

“You saw Fox News?” Andy asks. 

“Yes, it’s a dangerous game they’re playing” Blanc sighs “I was coming to ask if you had received any letters, the others doubted it but if they can get themselves on the news, they can pass on a letter” he shrugs glancing over his shoulder. 

“Well it was a good hunch” Andy says passing the letters over to him “There were 7 in total”

“Seven?” Blanc says his brow arching “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” he asks glancing over at you. 

You shrugged your shoulders “I dunno, i-i- panicked- didn’t realise it was something you could stop” you admit “I only told Andy after he saw the news”

Blanc nods as he flips through the letters, reading each one, you nervously gulp as he does so, trying to read the expression on his face “Well given the contents it's understandable” he says “There’s only six here, you said there was seven” he then points out. 

“I burnt the first one it- it was a mistake I know but- but those are the more…graphic ones… each one got more intense” you swallow looking down at the floor unable to bring yourself to see the look on Andy’s face. 

“We’re guessing he sent them to his parents and they forwarded them on, which is witness intimidation” Andy suggests his hand squeezing yours slightly. 

“Damn right it is” Blanc grumbles “C’mon let's talk about this more upstairs,” he says gesturing for you to follow him deeper into the building. 

“Thank you” Andy sighs placing his hand on the small of your back to guide you. 

You wrap your arms around you tightly as Blanc leads the both of you through the precinct towards the other detectives who instantly stand to attention when they notice you. 

“It’s a good thing we didn’t settle on a wager” Blanc states as he slaps the letters into Detective Elliot’s hand.

Elliot quickly flips through them his eyes widening before he passes them over to Wagner to read, you shift uncomfortably as they do so worried that maybe Ransom was planting seeds of doubt in their minds. 

“Were you really not going to check if she received any letters?” Andy demands hands clenched into fists by his side. 

“We’re sorry it won’t happen again” Elliot promises holding his hands up to placate Andy, he then turns his attention to Wagner “Get in contact with the prison and shut this down, take away all privileges if you have to” he orders. 

Wagner nods passing the letters back to Elliot before stepping away to make the call “We’ll be submitting these to evidence, see if we can lift any fingerprints” Blanc reassures you “We can promise he won’t be able to contact you any more”

You breathe out a shaky sigh of relief “Thank you” you manage to say. 

“It's the least we can do, have you guys experienced any other negative attention following the news?” Elliot asks grabbing a notepad. 

“Yes our garage door was graffitied” Andy sighs glancing down at you, you immediately advert your gaze and look down at the floor. 

“Okay we can station an officer outside to prevent any more vandalism, is there anything else?” Elliot asks. 

“No” Andy states as you say “I-”

Andy’s brows furrow as he turns to look down at you “Honey? What is it?” he asks placing a calming hand on your shoulder. 

“I-” you start again before screwing your eyes shut and shaking your head “It’s nothing” you mutter.

“Honey if it’s worrying you it can’t be nothing” he says softly turning you to face him, hands running up and down your arms soothingly. 

“The same day the first letter arrived these girls ran over to me and Carrie at the park, it was all a bit of a blur but they were fans of Harlan and Ransom and said they didn’t blame me for being with him” You admit quietly, looking down at the floor.

Andy’s hands tense for a split second around your arms before relaxing and returning to their soothing rhythm “Why didn’t you tell me?” Andy says his tone soft. 

“I didn’t want you to worry” you whisper finally looking back up at him and seeing the pained look on his face “I’m sorry” you apologise as tears collect in your eyes. 

“It's okay, it's okay” Andy sighs wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace and rubbing your back soothingly. 

You let out a shuddering breath as you buried your face into his chest and deeply breathed in his cologne which always seemed to calm you. Closing your eyes you could almost pretend none of this was happening, that you weren’t in a police station handing over letters that detailed everything you were guilty of. 

“We promise we’ll try and get on top of the press, we can release a statement and do a press conference to dispel the rumours” Elliot promises “The preliminary hearing is in two weeks so hopefully we can collect the final bits of evidence we need to ensure he goes down for this”

“In the meantime, it might be good to get away” Blanc suggests “Stay with a family or-or a friend and have some peace and quiet before the ruckus of the trail starts” he says gesturing with his hand. 

“Won’t that look like we’re running away?” you ask glancing up at Andy.

He lets out a long sigh considering it before shaking his head “No because we have nothing to run from, they can try and paint you as the villain all they like but we know you’re innocent and the evidence shows it too” he states “we can go visit Frank and Mary” he suggests.

A smile involuntarily creeps onto your lips at the thought of heading down south to see Frank and Mary “Yeah.. That sounds nice” you nod. 

Andy gives you a soft smile before leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head “Great, I’ll give Frank a call” 

You give him another smile hoping that maybe this getaway would be what fixed everything between you. Time away from the press, nothing to remind Andy of everything you’d done.

Sharing is caring so please reblog and leave a comment to really make my day!

This series has no schedule, please don’t ask when it will be updated!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

I don’t have a taglist but follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary​ and turn on post notifications to stay up to date!

[kiwiana-writes]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks @cha-melodius and @stereopticons for the tags! I know I’ve done this in the past, but it’s been a hot minute…

How many works do you have on ao3?

239!

What's your total ao3 word count?

822,937—but that’s a collaboration-boosted lie. Per my writing tracker, words that I have personally written and published on AO3 is 693,613

What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly RWRB these days, but the majority of my back catalogue is Schitt’s Creek, with a few others sprinkled in for fun. The Pairing definitely made my brain whirr… we’ll see.

Top five fics by kudos:

With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest), RWRB, 65.5k, the Much Ado About Nothing stage actor AU

Kinda think that I might be his type, RWRB, 12.8k, Alex and Bea fake date and Alex gets a little distracted by Bea’s brother

We were supposed to find this, RWRB, 3.3k, soulmate AU

We always walked a very thin line, Happiest Season, 2.7k, Riley character study/alternate ending

All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers, RWRB, 5.8k, barista Henry repeatedly putting his foot in his mouth in front of his coworker crush

(This is how I learned Puck It has been knocked out of my top five 😭)

Do you respond to comments?

Yes! And absent a Schitt’s Creek resurgence of some kind that sees me absolutely inundated I don’t see that changing.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Five ways it could have ended (and one way it still could), Schitt’s Creek, 1.2k, for the love of god read the tags

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Like… most of them? I love to end on a good HEA haha. For sheer joy, though, it’s probably With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest)

Do you get hate on fics?

From time to time. I’m very free with the delete button. Weirdly, it occasionally pops up in the AO3 comments but mostly seems to come to me via anons on tumblr??? I have no idea why.

Do you write smut?

It’s been known to happen, I guess 👀

Craziest crossover:

I haven’t written any AO3-era crossovers! A few fusions/media AUs, but no crossovers.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. I’ve only been asked once, and they wanted to post off AO3 which is a big heck nope for me (and my permissions statement has now been updated to reflect that)

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Heck yeah I have. I’ve done several anthology-type collaborations where we each wrote a chapter in a fic, and I’ve fully cowritten fics with @ships-to-sail several times. We have another collab coming up for @aroyallybigbangrwrb and I’m also cowriting The Big Secret AU with @indestructibleheart which is essentially us one-upping each other on emotionally devastating ideas until someone writes them down. Good system 😂

All time favorite ship?

Stop making pansexuals choose things.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Look, the chances of kinktober 2021 being finished at this point are slim 😂

Schitt’s Creek kinkverse… I don’t know. I have little snippets written of future fics and they’re great but… idk. Maybe I’ll write one vignette-y wrap up fic one day.

What are your writing strengths?

Narrative POV, dialogue that feels like the characters, epistolary bullshit, smut apparently.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Coming up with actual plot lmao. Visual descriptors — I’m not even remotely a visual person so I really really struggle with writing the sorts of things people can visualise. Also like… the passage of time? A scam.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Love it. I’ll shoulder tap a fluent speaker if I need an actual sentence/anything Google isn’t super reliable for. Forever heartbroken that there are no fics in my second language in AO3 and no reason for me to be able to sprinkle it into my own writing (though one of the subscriber shindig prompts might be about to change that 👀)

First fandom you wrote in?

HP

Favorite fic you've written?

Stop! Asking! Pansexuals! To! Choose! Things!

I don’t know there are 239 of the bloody things 😂 I’m far more interested in what other people’s favourites are than what my own is!

I have no sense of who’s done this already so apologies if this is a double up but tagging @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @cricketnationrise @getmehighonmagic

@happiness-of-the-pursuit @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @nontoxic-writes

@read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sparklepocalypse @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play!