#cause some places in the town over got power back and the grocery store was still out

[pierswife]

I meant to go to sleep an hour and a half ago, but I started down the researching tropical cyclones, tropical depressions, tropicals storms, hurricanes, and extratropical cyclones rabbit hole again oops--

[reverie-starlight]

{a chaotic proposal - m. atsumu}

I swear I write for characters other than atsumu, I just love him a lot and most of my ideas are based on him lately :’)

gn!reader

warnings: fluff fluff fluff, slightly suggestive at the end but only if you squint really hard, reader is a dork and atsumu is a nervous mess <3

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

Atsumu loved you more than anyone else on this planet. That was a fact no one could deny.

He would do anything for you; from waking you up every morning a little earlier than your alarm so it didn’t scare you awake (despite not actually having to get up until a couple hours after you did) to going across town to the grocery store that had your favourite snacks when the one closer to you ran out.

He loved you deeply, yes, but that didn’t mean you never got on his nerves.

Every moment with you was a blessing, Atsumu knew that and treasured them all, especially moments like right now when you’re being silly and jumping around for the camera that he had set up to record you both against a tree.

Usually he’d be laughing at you and joining in with your antics, absolutely loving how adorable you looked when you were carefree but he was currently trying not to have a nervous breakdown. The most he could manage was a few quiet ‘careful’s as he tried to keep you on your feet and off the ground.

You didn’t even question why he set up the camera in the first place, just going along with it (he wanted to capture the next few moments on camera and figured he could get you to pose for the camera for “stills”).

Miya Atsumu had been trying to propose to you for the last 15 minutes.

He’s known he wanted to marry you for years, and was finally in a position where he felt he was ready to ask.

You two have talked about it countless times, often staying up until 4am talking about what married life might be like with each other (you decided it’d mostly be the same just with rings and new titles but you guys got excited about it nonetheless).

However, he was seeing that taking you up to a pretty clearing in a forest that was secluded and far away from curious eyes was a surefire way to make this feel more real, so he wasn’t exactly feeling as hyper as you were right now.

Don’t get him wrong, he was excited to marry you and he had no doubts you’d say yes, but he was still nervous.

Every time he thought he was ready to get down on one knee, you’d turn back around and jump on him, or you’d get excited and shake him- causing him to almost drop the ring one time- which was dragging on the video for much longer than needed.

The driving force that finally made him take action was an image in his brain of Osamu and Suna laughing at him if they could see the scene before them now. He shuddered and refused to give them any power over him.

You were currently on the ground, laughing (cackling) at yourself for falling over (he didn’t even know how it happened) and trying to pull a now laughing atsumu down with you.

“‘tsumu, I can’t be the only one on the ground, just come here!”

“No, you maniac, I want to keep my suit clean!”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “If I had to get my super nice and expensive outfit all dirty, you do too,” and you got up and tried to tackle him onto the ground.

“Sweetheart wait, please! Let’s just take some nice pictures and then I’ll go down with you okay?”

You nodded and he helped you dust yourself off. A kiss was placed on the back of your head and you smiled.

“Okay look at the camera and just hold each pose for a few seconds,” he stayed behind you, put his arms around your waist and smiled.

A few seconds after that, he pressed kisses to the side of your head and your cheeks, then brought you in for one on the lips.

You giggled and then jumped up very suddenly, causing him to panic and catch you before you could fall again. “Y/n, I swear-“

You apologized by wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his face a few times.

Then you squirmed a bit and threw your hands up in the air, and one leg out of his hold, almost making him lose balance again.

“Y/n!”

“‘tsumu!”

He sighed. Then he got an idea on how to get on one knee and still surprise you.

“Hey, let’s turn around back to back for a second and we’ll do that spy pose we do a lot.”

You nodded excitedly and turned around. He checked to see if you were looking at the camera and quickly got down on one knee when you turned away from it.

It was silent for a minute before you started talking. “‘tsumu you coming? I don’t feel you leaning agai- oh my god.”

Tears were in both of your eyes as you took in the situation. “Oh my god,”

“You said that already,” he joked.

You launched into his arms and then slowly slid down onto the ground once again. He looked down at you, cheeks red and tear stained. You both started laughing, but it was the type of laugh that you can only produce when you’re feeling pure happiness. Uncontrollable, childish glee.

“Y/n, will-“

“Yes!”

“I haven’t even asked you yet, baby,”

“Doesn’t matter,” you stuck out your hand. “Answer is always gonna be yes.”

He let out a laugh and slid the ring onto your finger. Then he kept his promise and got down beside you. You rolled on top of him and stared into his eyes. He was still smiling and he seemed a lot more like himself now.

“We’re a mess, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You grinned and kissed him.

“This is why you’ve been so tense! I was hoping that being hyper would snap you out of whatever you were thinking about. Don’t think I didn’t notice how you were trying to hide how annoyed you were with me.” You poked his cheek and he snorted.

“You know me too well,” he shoved you off of him so he could roll on top of you.

You nodded. “Better than anyone.”

“Better than anyone,” he agreed.

He pushed hair out of your face and looked down at the ring on your finger. He was so full of love for you.

“I know you well enough to know how nervous you were,” you teased. “This video you’re taking is definitely going to get a lot of people at our wedding laughing. I can see Samu’s face now.”

But as stated before, that didn’t mean you didn’t get on his nerves.

His eyes narrowed. He got off of you and helped you up. He walked over to his phone and stopped the video. “You have ten seconds to run,” he offered a smile akin to those he offered his opponents on the court.

Your eyes lit up and you darted away as you realized he wasn’t really annoyed with you.

You both laughed as he chased you all the way back to the car, enjoying the fact that you’ve upgraded from being able to call Atsumu your boyfriend to being able to call him your fiancé.

Bonus:

You were laying in bed with him after getting home and celebrating, looking at the ring on your finger.

It was absolutely perfect for you, much like the man in your bed right now.

Your fiancé looked over at you, amused. “What are you doing?”

“You know, I haven’t really looked at the ring properly until now but you did good, Miya.”

He smirked. “Of course I did, I know what you like, future Miya.”

You felt like all you’d been doing that night was smiling or laughing, but you couldn’t help it. All you felt was overwhelming happiness.

“Yeah, you do, don’t you?” You looked over at him and kissed him for maybe the hundredth time that night.

You giggled as he leaned into it and brought your hands up to smooth over his shoulders. Your fiancé rolled on top of you again and gave you every single ounce of his love and affection.

[santacarlatourism]

summer break for vigilantes - pt. 3, the investigation begins

Rating: Mature Pairing: Poly Lost Boys x (Nonbinary) Reader Word Count: 3.7k See [pt. 1] for fic warnings and summary. [Previous Part] [Next Part Coming Soon]

Sunday morning had come and gone as Y/N went out to hang up more flyers. Michelle was frazzled, understandably so, and so they had suggested that she stay home with the phone in case the police or any of her friends called with any leads. When they got home though, they could easily infer from Michelle’s frustrated grumbling over the sound of running water in the kitchen that the phone likely hadn’t gone off.

“I fucking hate that guy, he was such a prick, but he made a point,” Michelle said when she heard the front door shut. “Tons of people go missing around here and most never turn up.” Y/N realized she was talking about Officer McCleary. “What if Eric never turns up?”

Y/N took a breath and stepped into the kitchen. Michelle was doing the dishes. “Well… he simply has to turn up, because you’re here waiting on him,” They gave her a reassuring, friendly smile, but then frowned. Their nose scrunched up. “Jesus, what did you burn in here while I was gone?”

Sheepishly, Michelle smiled at them, pausing for a moment and looking up from the sink. “Pancakes.”

With an indulgent look, Y/N gently nudged Michelle out of the way to finish doing the dishes. “I’ll whip us up some unburnt ones, okay? You’ve had a rough twenty-four hours, and I doubt you slept much last night,” They sighed after a moment and nodded towards their bed. “Go take a nap in my room. I don’t mind.”

Michelle shook her head, picking a mug filled with coffee off the counter. “Can’t. I’ve downed enough coffee to power a locomotive.”

“Well, that’s not a good habit to start,” Y/N commented, finishing with the pan and putting it back on the stove to cook a fresh batch of pancakes in. “But I understand.”

Michelle sighed, staring into her cup, pushing her messy, green colored hair out of her face. “The first forty-eight hours in a missing person’s case are critical, y’know. I read it in the newspaper once.”

Y/N hummed in response, whisking together the pancake ingredients and then pouring the batter into the pan. It was a quiet morning, and while Y/N normally appreciated those it was a silence filled with worry and tension. One day had already passed which meant, in theory, that there were roughly just twenty-four crucial hours before the likelihood that Eric would be found would diminish even further. “Well, maybe we can do more than just put up flyers,” Y/N finally said. “I mean… the police said to call them if we see anything, right? We can ride around, and see if we do see anything.”

“Do you think we will?”

“Well, unless Eric’s disappearance was caused by picking up a malevolent hitchhiker, his car’s got to be somewhere in town,” They replied, flipping over the pancake. “If we can find it, that may be a start.”

 Michelle knew three places Eric went on a regular basis that the two of them could check. One was his dealer’s house, but Eric’s car wasn’t there and the guy swore he hadn’t seen Eric in a week. One was the grocery store, but his car also wasn’t there and the employees said they hadn’t seen him come in the past few days. The last one was the all-night gas station he made a habit of filling up at. His car also wasn’t there, and they hadn’t seen him since before he disappeared.

It felt pretty defeating, and Y/N felt a bit of guilt for getting Michelle’s hopes up that had a chance of finding something. All though Y/N knew that they couldn’t know there would be no leads until they actually looked, they couldn’t help but feel that they’d wasted Michelle’s time and energy. “Let’s go by his place one more time,” Michelle said, still sounding hopeful, “Maybe he’s come home.” Y/N doubted it, but agreed– there was no way to turn down such a request. And it was possible, even if they thought it was unlikely.

But as they approached Eric’s little rental house, Y/N slammed on the breaks. “Shit, be careful, Y/N!”

“Down there,” They said, pulling their car off to the side, in the grass.

Eric lived a little further out from town, in the hilly area and along a dirt and gravel road. And there was a small road, more a trail, that branched off and into some trees– which was where Y/N had slammed on the breaks at. “I saw something.” With the car parked, the two hopped out.

“Oh my God,” Michelle said, following Y/N up to the road and then running down it. She saw what Y/N had seen as they’d approached the house– a brown car’s paint shining through the overgrown limbs.

“Chelle!” Y/N said, hurrying after her. They weren’t sure that Michelle would handle whatever the two of them found down the trail well.

“God– I–” Michelle almost yelled, tears starting to prick at her eyes. She turned away from the car and began pacing as Y/N stepped closer to investigate. The car had a flat rear tire. It had crashed head-first into a tree by the side of the trail. These were concerning things in and of themselves, but what really had Y/N befuddled– and even more concerned– was that Eric wasn’t there. A crash like that could have easily killed him, but his body was gone.

And the roof of his car had been ripped clean off.

“This doesn’t make any fucking sense,” Y/N muttered.

“I don’t understand, I don’t–” Michelle swallowed, wiping her tears with her palms, “How does this happen?”

Y/N pursed their lips. “I mean… just the tire and the car crash, it would at least make sense. Tire busts, you lose control of the car. It’s night so you can’t see as far ahead, and you’re panicking, so you try to swerve to avoid crashing into your house or maybe some deer. You’re sent through the overgrowth and hit the tree in the process,” Y/N said, thinking aloud. “But that doesn’t– that can’t explain…” They waved their hand over the tops of the car doors, where the roof should be. And it didn’t explain where Eric actually was. “If he survived that, he would have tried to get to the house to call someone. And if he didn’t…”

“If he didn’t, he should still be in the car!”

At least partly, Y/N thought to themself. It had been a day out in the trees with who knows what animals around. Something very likely would have tried to start eating him, but Y/N doubted it would have finished by now. There was dried blood, on the seat and on the dash, but Y/N didn’t know a ton about cars. It was just as likely that that happened during the crash as it was the result of some predator tearing into him.

And what type of predator can tear the roof clean off your car? The roof of Y/N’s 4Runner had gotten smacked by branches plenty of times– nothing they saw around here should have had the power to take the roof off like that. The roof should have been able to keep any animals from getting to Eric’s body.

“Where is the roof, anyways?” Y/N asked, confused. “Even if an animal tore it off somehow, I doubt it would have taken it along–”

“Shit,” Michelle said, with a look of realization. “Come on, I saw it!” She said, running back to Y/N’s car. They took off after her, glad that they were the one that had the keys– they were pretty confident that in Michelle’s hurry she may take off without them otherwise.

“Where?” Y/N asked, unlocking the car and getting in the driver’s seat.

Michelle directed them to drive back down the way they came. Y/N saw a house down another different turn, and Michelle instructed them to head down it. Now it was Y/N’s turn to be shocked by what they were able to see when they got closer. “Oh, damn,” They said, noticing that, propped up against the house was a brown piece of metal. The roof of Eric’s car. “Okay, Michelle, stay here. I’ll see what’s up, okay?” They said, hopping out of the car and heading up to the door before Michelle had the chance to argue. The sympathized with their friend’s plight, but Michelle looked ready to clock whoever opened the front door, and, well, they had no proof that whoever lived here had a hand in anything that had transpired.

But maybe the person or people had seen or heard something, and that could be valuable.

Y/N stepped up onto the brown wooden porch and knocked on the door. No one came. They knocked again and waited a moment and still no one came. “Hey! Is anyone home!?” They asked. They didn’t like to be the rude type but this was important, so they started knocking again, KNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCK– and when their first was mid-air the door opened again.

“What?” Asked an older man with white hair and slight balding, and a bandana wrapped around his head. He stood at about Y/N’s height, and that allowed them a good look at his facial expression. He didn’t look pleased about having visitors.

“Where did you get that?” Y/N asked, skipping the social pleasantries and gesturing at the car roof.

“Ah, that,” He said, looking to the metal and seeming a bit less snappy, “Found it at the end of my driveway. Figured I could use it in some tinkering around the house,” He looked back to Y/N. “Why?”

“It’s a car roof. Someone tore if off our friend’s car. He crashed about a mile up the road.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” The older man said, scratching his short, scruffy beard.

“Um… What’s your name, sir?”

“Barney, Barney Emerson. Says so on my birth certificate– well, I think…”

You fidget. He’s an eccentric old man who appears to live alone, so you don’t begrudge him his oddities, but still, you wish he’d take the topic at hand a tad more seriously. “Well, Mr. Emerson–”

“Oh, call me Barney, I’m not that old!”

“Mr. Barney,” You started again. “Did you hear anything the night before last? Anything weird or odd?”

“Ah, taking a jab at some detective work here, I see,” He observed. “Good on you! But, ah, no, I wasn’t here until pre-tty early in the morning. I had a nice long date with the Widow Johnson that night. Like I said, not that old,” Barney stated. “All though I hope most of the strangeness in Santa Carla stays further down the hill! That’s why I moved up here, you know. Get away from the strangeness. Don’t like being close to all that mess in town.”

“Right,” You nodded. Well, you’d made an effort, at least. You hadn’t seen many other houses on the road. The few you had seen you’d stop and ask if they heard or saw anything on your way back into town, but you doubted they’d be much more helpful.

“You can take the roof with you, if you like. I suppose the police may want to have a look at that, and I prefer not to have them come poking around my property if I can avoid it.”

You smiled at the older man, relieved. “We really appreciate it, sir.” You said, motioning your friend out of the car to help you carry it.

“Don’t sir me. I’m not that old,” He said, with that same grumpy tone, before returning inside.

 “I don’t think we should take the roof to the police,” Michelle said, which caused you to almost slam on the breaks and stop the car in the middle of the road in surprise– which wouldn’t have been good, considering you were back in town now.

You shook your head and keep driving. “I’m sorry?”

“They’ve been absolutely zero help!” Michelle said, and you couldn’t deny that she had a point about that. “We uncovered more evidence by ourselves in one afternoon than they have in a full day. I bet they didn’t even send anyone from the station up to Eric’s house to check it out. If they had, they would have found that car, right?” She asked. “I mean, I know I missed it when I rode over yesterday, but that was at night.”

“So what are you suggesting, that we enact vigilante justice and conceal evidence from the cops?” You asked her, incredulously.

It was silent in the car for a moment “...More or less!” Michelle finally spat out. “But come on. We’ve been efficient! It’s worth a try, right?” She asked you. “...If we don’t make any progress, we can always take the roof to the station on another day. They have no idea of knowing when or where we found it,” Michelle pointed out. “I highly doubt that grandpa has plans to talk to the police any time soon from the way you described him.”

Y/N sighed, turning on the radio, and turning to head to their apartment over the police station. “Fine, but you have to help me carry this fucking thing inside,” They said, over the tunes of Bowie’s ‘Let’s Dance.’

 That night, Y/N made their way to the beach alone.

Michelle was exhausted and finally, after the commotion of finding her boyfriend’s car totaled, agreed to try and get some sleep. Even though Eric didn’t disappear from within his home, Y/N still double-checked all the windows of their apartment before they stepped out, though it felt a bit silly since they were on the second floor, and they were careful to lock the front door too. In part, the extra steps of double checking were for Michelle’s peace of mind. Y/N hoped that she’d know they were taking care and had her back. But they were also to put themself at ease with the hope that their place would still be safe and sound upon return.

Y/N had needed the night out by themself; they decided to try and clear their head after how hectic the past few days had been. They knew they should call their parents soon, who were probably worrying that something could go wrong at any moment so far from home. But the thing was that something had gone wrong, and Y/N didn’t even know how to talk to them about it without admitting that they’d secretly gotten a roommate their parents would disapprove of.

So, they decided to do something they’d wanted to do for two days now but hadn’t yet gotten to do: see the beach. Y/N made themself discreet as they stepped down across the sand towards the water; by this point they’d noticed the presence of not-so-friendly surfers, the aggressive kind that were territorial about their waves. But the beach seemed rather empty tonight and so, with a sigh of relief, Y/N tossed down a towel and took a seat.

They realized rather quickly that they wanted to come back and see this better during the day, if they could get past the assholes. The ocean was so big. It seemed unending. And at night, like this, it was peaceful.

“I’ve spent a lot of time out here too.” Y/N turned around to see Star standing behind them. They supposed the sand must have done a good job of muffling her footsteps. There was a younger boy with her, one Y/N hadn’t seen before.

“Yeah?” They asked.

Star nodded and stepped forward, taking a seat on the towel beside Y/N. “Yeah. When I first got out here. My family is from San Francisco.”

“The big city,” Y/N said, half-jokingly, “Part of why I came out here.”

“I couldn’t wait to get away from it,” Star said, then looked down. “Well, I couldn’t wait to get away from my family. And I suppose that’s just the city they happened to live in.” Y/N could empathize with that. While they needed to call home, they could definitely survive without being within a hundred miles of it for a good few years at the least. “So I ran away.”

“Like, ran away ran away?” Y/N asked, realizing how dumb it sounded as soon as they’d said it.

Star nodded. “I hitchhiked, and the first person to stop for me was heading down here. I spent a few weeks sleeping here, on this beach.”

She didn’t have to say it sucked for Y/N to infer it. They turned to look back out over the sea, listening to the waves, and spoke with their eyes still gazing over the horizon, “Are you still? Me and Michelle, we could fit another person in our place, if you need…”

“No,” Star responded. “Thank you, but… David, and the other boys. They saw me on the beach here, one night, and they took me in.”

Y/N looked back at Star. “I admit, that surprises me. I’d noticed some tension between you and David, and I’d thought maybe things… weren’t so good.”

Star shook her head. “They aren’t good, now. But they were, not too long ago.” She stretched her feet out, letting her toes curl in the sand. “I’m sorry about your friend. I saw you putting up the flyers last night.”

“Michelle’s taking it rough,” Y/N sighed, pulling their knees up towards their chest and leaning on them.

“You should avoid the boardwalk if you can, at night. The beach too,” Star said, and it seemed sudden to Y/N but the way she spoke made it sound like quite a logical turn in the conversation– “I mean, just… people go missing from this part of town a lot, at night.”

Y/N scoffed. “From what I’ve heard, people go missing from a lot of Santa Carla at night.”

“Please, just… trust me. Be careful.”

They shrugged and nodded; they’d try, anyways. They glanced around to Star’s other side at the boy with her. “Is he your brother?”

She shook her head. “No. He’s Laddie.” Another kid that David and his crew had taken in, Y/N presumed. “I know that them taking us in makes the boys sound good,” Star said, “But they’re trouble, Y/N. Don’t get too close.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Y/N said, perhaps a bit too quickly. Did the four intrigue them? Sure, they were hot and mysterious guys who rode motorbikes. But Y/N could also tell when someone was bad news, and liked to think they weren’t the type to become drunk on their own lust.

“Aw, Star,” A voice said, further up the beach. Y/N and Star quickly turned their heads to look behind them. Speak of the devil, David and his boys had arrived on the beach and were making their way down to the tide. Star quickly stood up, taking Laddie firmly by the hand. It was Marko speaking, “Spreading rumors isn’t very nice.”

“I wasn’t spreading anything,” Star insisted, pulling Laddie a little closer towards her.

David took a drag on his cigarette before dropping it to the sand and stomping it out with his boot. “Now now, Star,” He said. “Someone would hear those things and think you were ungrateful.”

She looked down, a mixture of indignance and guilt spreading across her expression. David turned to Y/N with a calm expression, “See? I told you we’d be meeting again soon.”

“You don’t need to be such a dick to her,” They said, standing up.

“Y/N, it’s okay,” Star said, softly, cautioning.

“Yeah, chill out,” Paul said, stepping over to Y/N, “She’s fine.”

Y/N glared at Paul, which caused him to chuckle. “Have you ever ridden a motorbike, Y/N?” David asked.

“No.”

“Would you like to?”

“Not with you,” Y/N responded.

David raises his eyebrows. “Not with me, huh? Maybe with Paul, then,” He said, earning a laugh from the group as Paul wiggled his eyebrows at Y/N suggestively. Y/N sucked their teeth with annoyance and stepped up towards David.

“It is my first week in this town and one of the two friends I’ve made here has gone missing, and I have a roommate laid up at home who is absolutely heartbroken and grieving him,” They said, getting a bit in his face and staring up at him. “I don’t know what you guys’ deal is, but so far all I’ve seen you do is bitch at Star and try to act intimidating. So thanks, but no thanks, I have far too much shit going on right now to take a little joyride with you.” They said, and stepped around David to head back up the beach, knocking against his shoulder as they did so.

They weren’t able to see David’s expression, and for a moment, they thought there was a chance these guys might try to jump them in retaliation. “You want to know what happens to missing people in Santa Carla?” He asked. Y/N paused, frowned, and turned back around to look at the boys. The wind was kicking up and starting to tousle the longer heads of hair.

“Their numbers continue to multiply?” Y/N quipped.

David grinned, and walked up the beach, the other boys following suit. He stepped up till he was beside Y/N. “You’re not going to solve a mystery that this town hasn’t been able to solve for a hundred years,” He said. “There’s a reason that there’s more missing persons than graveyards here. They don’t find the bodies, and this body is no different.” David smirked at Y/N’s silence. “Have a good night.”

“Don’t be shy about taking us up on that bike ride,” Dwayne said, as the boys made their way back up the rest of the beach to their bikes with Star and Laddie in tow, and rode off.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Can I request a Kai Parker smut

stuck in 1903

kai parker x reader / masterlist

summary; being trapped in the prison world after sacrificing yourself to protect your friends, leads to some very embarrassing and frustrating situations / warnings; kai being an annoying lil shit, mentions of death, smut, possessiveness, imprisonment,

the prison world, perhaps it would have been slightly peaceful if an entrapped witch was not following your every move like an obsessed ghost. he was relentless, stalking his threatening footsteps after your own, prowling for a manner of attention.

“if you stop this whole, ‘let’s walk in y/n’s shadow’ charade, i will have sex with you. can we pursue a deal concerning the matter?” instantly, the witch muted his movements, gripping onto the side of the aisle shelf as he studied you, searching to see if your prospectus contained serious regard.

once he had come to a conclusion, he raised his eyebrows. kai had tried his darnest to keep you contained in that house that he likened to call a home. there was something he didn’t wish for you to discover, he was keeping you isolated from everything within the empty world that his family had banished him to.

that made you think, that it was possible, that perhaps other souls had entered the enclosure of this world, and that was why you were seeking, in the hopes of providing yourself with the comfort that you weren’t alone in this cursed nation with the one, and the only, to your misfortune, kai parker.

there wasn’t much that you knew about him, he was a practical talker, rather than a personal one. he had stocks of questions about the modern world, so that he could relish in the imagery of how much it had evolved without him. a part of you pitied him, but another worried that there was a wisp of darkness that he was hiding.

you didn’t know him, he was a stranger, and that truth made him potentially dangerous. it was safe to always remain on your toes, even if he had a habit of trailing huskily after. it gave him no chance of envisioning you as a sitting duck, every day was the same, but he was the one thing that could change that.

one tip of his mindset, and he could remember that he preferred being alone. and he could kill you, piking you on a stake, despite being human, or using his siphoning hands to drain all life out of your body. this wasn’t your first rodeo with the aftermath of death; bonnie had found a way to bring you back, her power flowed through you, keeping you logically alive, to a fault that was.

parker licked his pork rind exploited lips, collecting the dust from the treat, and bringing it into the cauldron of his mouth. the man was thinking, and that idea alone scared you. however you waited for him to persevere with whatever was unravelling in his mind, although you could have easily passed him by, finding elsewhere to seek salvation.

“is there a due date for that offer, because i’d like to take you up on it right now?” a smirk curved his mouth. perhaps not every day was the same, this was certainly going to be different, that was one thing that was for sure.

he noticed how your shoulders withered from the thought; sex in a grocery store, you had never been so filthy, and despite there being nobody around to bare witness to the sin, it still had your skin crawling. hugging your arms across your chest, you sighed, giving into his slick prompt, leaning your head down out of self disrespect.

kai couldn’t be trusted, you knew that. not for the fact that his own family had sent him here, to wallow in nothing more than the loneliness of his own company. there had to be a reason! nobody’s mother nor father would do such an act for no resolving purpose.

gulping, you finally grew the guts to adjust your gaze on him, and how he tapped his foot, silently demanding a response. “i mean it kai, we have sex, and you stop trailing after me like some stray. you got that?”

he got it. his footsteps came closer to you as he backed you into a shelf along the outer wall, enclosing you against the packets of rustling pork rinds, accidentally crushing their interior contents, as you raised your chin up, obscenely glaring at the mysterious man.

“oh, i heard every word.” he held out his pinkie finger to make a promise, and sickeningly you reached your own out, shaking on it, before he rasped his hand around your wrist, pressing a kiss upon the thin flesh. leaning down, kai attached your lips, humming contently, it had been so long since he had endured the contact of another person.

with his unoccupied hand, he slithered it down your chest, dragging his knuckles down your stomach, before he reached the tender edge of your trousers. he toyed with the band, the action making you stifle any sounds of admitted likening to his teasing; if you did, then he would only continue to do so more.

it felt like forever since you had gotten laid, a large portion of you wanted kai to take you on the spot, which it looked as though that was his intent, and that he definitely would do so. but another felt sick of yourself, these were the extents that you would go to to be left alone, and there was not exactly a plan b if he didn’t.

you wanted to obtain a way out of this place, and possibly the only chance that you had of doing so was to wander away from his ever watching eyes, and strive on your own, trying to discover any evidence of life throughout this semi detached world. you felt like a cattle, being guarded by their herder, he was protecting you from anything that could daunt your mind with realisation.

it wasn’t the fact he was protective, it was more in the terms of possessiveness. though he wanted to leave, he claimed that there was no way out, he was intent on descending your hope of uncovering an escape, from not only the ghost town of your home, but from him also.

“what to first? should i just fuck you or make you blow me?” his teeth toyed with a sly smile, as though he were trying to convince you into a conflict regarding the answer. but instead of growing a fuzzy brain, you simply glared at him, pushing his fingers out from where they had slipped under the top of your bottoms, leaving the man to be a confused mess; it was kinda cute, but for all you knew, his often sublime attitude.

“i didn’t say foreplay parker, only sex was on the table. and that will be all you’re getting, unless you want me to leave you high and dry, and find another resolve to rid myself of your attached escapades of following after me like there’s a wire attached from me to you.”

“fine.” he raised his hands in a motion of surrender, chuckling lightly to himself. “i was just testing my luck, which is clear that i don’t have.” he turned, his brows going up higher on his face as he saw a variety of boxes stacked on one of the shelves. he picked one up, reading over the scripture as you scoffed.

“i don’t think your gonna need xxl, unless you’re going to cum that much since nobody has had their hands on you for a long time. you’ve had to suffice and please yourself for how long again?”

“spicy, i like it. eh, you’re right anyways.” he tossed the box down the aisle, grasping for another like a kid in the candy store, this time it was for the variety of average sized men. kai aggressively ripped the box open, causing the contents of packets to spill all over the ground.

“are you incapable of doing anything like a grown ass man?” it was irritating just watching him fail to do ordinary everyday tasks. he was destructive, and it seemed to be a large part of his personality.

“you won’t be asking that in a minute y/n/n.” he sent you a gruelling wink, making you inherently gulp, watching as he plucked a singular condom off the ground, holding it between his teeth as he began to unbuckle his belt, starting towards you.

“whatever you say kai.” rolling your eyes at his constant cockiness, you pried open your jeans, dropping your panties to the ground, as you caught kai frozen, with a slight swab of drool bathing his bottom lip. “come on, i am waiting, so hurry your ass up before i get bored of doing so.”

“you want this as much as i do, you just won’t admit it.” he lightly sneered towards you, and you felt your body flush with composed embarrassment. perhaps you had thought about the ordeal a little during the time you had been there, but there had to be some excuse! he was the only guy in a worldwide radius, that was a reasonable enough purpose.

when he was rid of apparel on his lower half, he rolled the protection onto his length, as he pinned you completely flush against the shelves of the aisle, one of his hands cupping your ass, before he helped you clamber into his arms, as he held your weight up.

you wrapped your legs expertly around his waist, biting your lip as he ran the tip of his cock against your clit, and then pushed into your walls, his moans reverberating erotically along the column of your throat, as he trailed his lips against your tender flesh.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” he uttered as he began to thrust. it had been a long time since kai had endured any physical contact, let alone like this. the siphon was relishing in it, slipping his cock in and out of your folds as though that was his lifelong purpose.

for the first time in many years, he no longer felt trapped, he had inched into a small paving of freedom, all because he was inherent not to leave you to abandon alone. you too were also caught up in the web of pleasure, you didn’t here two specific sets of footsteps enter the store, searching for the witch that had claimed that he knew of a route out of this subordinate hell.

they had survived the enduring loss of their own freedom, being sucked from the force of a collapsing vacuum into this lonesome reality. the other side had fallen, and so had their jaws, as they saw kai not only having sex, but with you, their lost friend whom had given her life to previously save them from complicated doom.

bonnie felt borderline disgusted as she watched you shut your eyes and try to bounce yourself on the man’s cock, whilst damon was specifically disappointed. your hands rasped around his shoulders, though their grip tightened as your name was called.

as you turned and saw your friends, it all suddenly made sense. from kai’s behaviour, to his lack of inclination to leave you alone, it was clear that he was hiding you from them and vice versa. “bonnie, damon!” you gasped, unsure of how you were supposed to compose yourself throughout this predicament.

“yes, bon bon, damey.” kai mocked with a roll of his eyes, as he remained still to his own dismay. “could you maybe give us five minutes, we kinda weren’t done here. just let us finish, and- ow!” you slapped the side of his face, scrambling to situate yourself out of his menacing grip.

with downturned eyes, you hastily pulled your clothes back up into place, glaring at the siphon. “you knew didn’t you? you knew that these were my friends and you purposely made sure i was distanced from them!” you growled at kai, your eyes fluttering with disregard for the imprisoned magician.

“well if i had, then you’d be less inclined to spend time with me, and this, would never have happened.” his fingers pried at pointing between the pair of you, amusedly he would say, though you would think otherwise. “welcome to 1903 baby! the world of lies and disgrace.”

“you’re the disgrace, you killed your own family, your younger siblings.” bonnie spoke, and her words made you feel physically sick. “get away from him y/n.” you followed her command, rushing over to her and damon, with shock established in your eyes. you had just fucked a sociopath.

“well, i guess that the jig is up.” he shrugged as he conformed his own clothes to be put in place. the fact that you still felt a rouse to finish what you started made you feel disgusted with yourself, though he deserved to rot here. why did the bad guys always have to be so hot? it just was not fair.

[pagingdoctorbedlam]

Ready for zombies, Zoro, and some hurt/comfort? Then take a swig of this potion for @quirkyseastone ‘s “Brew a Love Potion” event! (But please read the warnings first!)

Characters: Zoro x Reader; appearance by Bartholomew Kuma

Genre: Zombie/Apocalypse, Hurt/Comfort (a bit light on the comfort though, woops)

TW/CW: Violence, guns and swords, blood, light gore, mentions of cannibalism, undead bodies

Inspiration: The concept for zombies in this fic is inspired by the novel Breathers by S.G. Browne (at least, what I remember from having read it over 10 years ago...)

Word Count: ~3.1k words

...

"Hold still, we're almost..." You apply the last bit of blush before appraising your handiwork. Not bad, if you said so yourself. At a glance, Zoro doesn't even look dead. "There. Want a mirror to see?"

"I trust you not to doll me up too bad." Roronoa Zoro yawns, even though the legendary zombie hunter no longer needs to sleep, having recently been turned into a zombie himself. Which, contrary to popular belief, is not in and of itself a death sentence. Most zombies act as they did in life, even if their bodies no longer recover the way a living human's does. The danger comes from the zombies who try to stop this decay by feasting on human brains...and sometimes more dangerous are the humans who've decided that every zombie is a ticking time bomb regardless of said zombie's intentions. 

At least Zoro had never been that way, but now he's got to hide from the hunters who once considered him a legend. Sure, it wouldn't be hard for him to fight off hunters, even if you've had to stitch each limb back on at least twice (and you're still not sure where one of his eyes ended up). But you'd rather your newfound partner in protecting innocent zombies not cause a scene simply by walking through the market.

"Remember, don't rub your face. This makeup cost me a fortune. And try to fake breathing this time, okay?"

"Yeah yeah, I got it." He manages to take a breath that's believable but isn't so deep that it rattles the loose bones and organs in his slowly decaying chest.

Both of you get to your feet and finish the rest of your preparations for the outside world. Your clothing hides as much skin as possible, even with the warm temperatures outside. You spray Zoro down with cheap cologne so he smells less like roadkill and more like a teenager trying to cover up a bad case of B.O. And you slip on filtration masks in a vain attempt to avoid the ever-present smoke and dust beyond your walls.

No one's sure if the zombies came about because of the bombs, or if the bombs were secretly launched because the powers-that-be learned about the first nascent zombies and failed with their pre-emptive strike. But now much of the world is a wasteland, and bargaining for resources is bad enough without half the population lobbing accusations of cannibalism at the other half. You can't hold off this trip any longer, because you've ended up looking after a number of innocent zombies, and they need medical supplies before they fall apart any further.

You shoo Zoro away from the driver's spot on your motorbike. "Nuh uh buddy, we aren't getting lost today." You've heard a new band of hunters is coming to town, and the last thing you want is to run into them before you have a chance to secure your supplies.

"I don't get lost! They just keep changing where the market is." Zoro still reluctantly waits for you to take your place at the front before he sits behind you and firmly snakes his arms around your waist. You pretend you can feel his pulse when he holds you, even though you know the heart in his chest has long stopped beating.

Markets are supposed to be neutral ground. Everyone needs resources to survive after all, and one of the few things that bombs and zombie outbreaks couldn't kill is commerce. Stalls line the aisles of what was once a grocery store, faded advertisements promoting foods that no one's seen in years, and someone has fixed the speaker system to play the same old pop hits in a vain attempt at normalcy.

You hold tight to Zoro's hand, both to keep him from getting lost and so he stays close in case of danger. He obliges, and even holds bags for you as you pull him around. You might've called this romantic in the times before, back when your purchases would've been far more frivolous than bandages and shelf-stable rations, but you're unsure how close you and Zoro would've been without being thrown together by circumstance.

You pause by one stall, eyes wide. Zoro doesn't notice and keeps walking until he notices that you won't budge. He raises an eyebrow when he finally joins you. "What, some kinda' plastic plant?"

"Not plastic. It's real." You forgive him the mistake though, as the plant has sturdy, waxy leaves that almost look sculpted. It feels like so long since you've seen anything green (aside from Zoro's hair), much less an actual plant. But you note the name scribbled in tape on its battered plastic pot. It's nothing useful, not medicinal or edible in the slightest. Just a begonia that hasn't even bloomed yet.

The shopkeeper asks, "Gonna gawk, or you gonna' buy?"

You know you can't afford a plant, what with how rare they are. You might be able to bargain and beg if it were something more useful, but...

"We'll buy." Zoro slams something down on the table. "This'll be enough?"

You catch the glint of gold peeking from between his fingers. Jewelry isn't useful anymore, but human greed has a hard time giving up old habits. The shopkeeper smiles wide and practically shoves the begonia at you with one hand while snatching up Zoro's earring with the other. You thank him and depart the stall without another word, clutching the flower close to your chest.

"What was that about?" You hiss at Zoro.

"Looked like you wanted it," he says with a shrug. You squint up at his remaining earrings, only to realize that in his haste to remove the one he traded away, he tore the hole in his ear a little in the process. Probably didn't even notice that he'd done so, the stubborn fool...

Well, what's done is done. "Thank you. I'll make sure to take excellent care of it."

"Don't mention it." Which you know is Zoro-speak for "you're welcome". So you smile back at him without saying anything more on the subject, and continue the rest of your trek through the market.

You make the mistake of thinking this is a surprisingly nice day. But you don't realize that someone has noticed how Zoro isn't bleeding.

When Zoro pulls out one sword and tightens his grip around your midsection, you don't have to ask why. You're being followed.

You absently wonder what gave you away. Never removing your masks? A smudge in Zoro's makeup that revealed the deathly pallor underneath? It doesn't really matter, you think. Whoever is after you will chase you down until they can swing their weapons and play at being heroes, so all you can do is fight on your own terms. You avoid going home and swerve the bike toward the burned-out husk of an abandoned store that not even the most desperate zombies would hide in.

You glance at the tilted rearview mirror on your bike. The figures chasing you are hulking brutes, but nothing compared to their ringleader. He's built like a brick house with legs, and his imposing figure is thrown off by the pristine white hat topped with small bear ears. Instead of a holstered weapon, he has a bible strapped to his side. You've heard of this man. Judging by the look in Zoro's eyes, he does too. One of the most notorious zombie hunters in the country: Bartholomew Kuma.

What is he doing here, of all places?

Zoro says, "Soon as we touch down, hide. It's me they want."

"I can't just leave you. You know who that is back there?"

"Doesn't matter. I already died once. They can't do worse than that to me. But they could still hurt you plenty. 'Specially if you came back before they were done with you." In the rearview mirror, Zoro's eyes are sharp and cold as his blades.

You know how to handle a weapon in self-defense, but you're nowhere near the master that Zoro is. And he has a point. You're still human, you can bleed, you can hurt. And that might chew Zoro up worse than anything Kuma and crew could throw at him. You resign yourself to your fate and think of where in that burnt-out building you might be able to hide, preferably while still keeping an ear out for danger.

You speed on, trying to shake your pursuers, but soon the road runs out. The bones of burnt buildings jut out before you like oversized tombstones. You remember scouting here before, trying to usher out displaced zombies before the remnants of the building could collapse on them. Much of the ruins have fallen since you were last here, but there's still a concrete bunker that was once a stockroom, and it's mostly intact. You can lay low there until the fighting's over. 

You relay this plan to Zoro, and you tell him, "I'll be safe there, don't worry about me. Once the fighting's done, I'll come back down and patch you up. So don't die on me again, alright?"

Zoro nods, even though he surely knows the claim is more for your comfort than anything. He's a zombie, after all, and they don't heal the way humans do unless they devour human brains. He won't bleed, but if he looses a limb, or even his head? There's nothing you can do to fix that. And to be honest, you're not sure if that'll do him in, or if he'd continue living in pieces. You don't want to find out.

You park. And you know you should hit the ground running, but your heart is hammering in your chest. You turn to Zoro as he pulls out his blades.

You quickly put your warm hands on his cold cheeks and pull him in for a kiss. You two never attached words to what's simmered under the surface for so long, but in case of the worst...you couldn't handle him not knowing how  you truly felt. He blinks as you pull away, briefly stunned. You wonder if he'd blush if he could.

You run into the burnt-out husk of a building. The touch of your lips on Zoro's is replaced by a sword between his teeth.

In another lifetime, before people stopped dying right and the world went to hell over it, this building was a clothing store. You shopped here for outfits you haven't seen in years. Once, a friend who worked here snuck you into the back room, and you ate cheap takeout while surrounded by wall-to-ceiling racks of clothing and shoes. If you took time to wipe away the dust, you might still find graffiti left by the workers during their final shifts. You wonder if your friend left one.

You cannot look because you are huddled on a shelf and trying not to make a sound. The shelves are sturdy metal and easy to climb even without the rolling ladder. You're hidden high above the heads of anyone who might come in and pressed against a wall. No one should find you here.

For awhile, you heard sounds from outside. Speaking at first, though you couldn't make out what was being said. Then battle, swords colliding and guns firing. Screams. Then...nothing. You don't know if it's safe to come out. You'll find out soon. There are footsteps approaching.

A voice you do not recognize says your name.

"Roronoa Zoro is dead. Again. I am sorry that it had to happen." Heavy footfalls contrast a voice that is soft, almost even kind. "I understand why you might want to save him. You've built quite a reputation for that, you know. But I'm afraid it ends here. We cannot allow you to keep any more abominations alive. You understand that is what they are, don't you?"

You know he's trying to goad you into revealing yourself. It takes everything in your power to hold still and silent.

Metal crumples nearby with a shrill squeal, as if it could protest its false bones being broken.

"If you were to go on a trip...where would you like to go?"

The question throws you off guard, almost enough for sound to escape your lips.

"We do not have to kill you. All the government wants is to talk. If you cooperate, you'll be transported somewhere safe. Free of zombies, even." More metal crumples, and you wonder how Kuma is doing it. Does he have a weapon, or is he strong enough to break the storage shelves with his bare hands? "All you have to do is come willingly, and when we're done, you can go wherever you'd like, and you'll be kept safe."

But the only place you can think of is home. With Zoro. No matter what might come after you there.

The shelf under you shifts, and your body spasms as if you fell in a dream and awoke with your mind still lurching. You reach for anything to grab onto, but your fingers only touch air. (For the briefest instance, you spy graffiti drawn by a familiar hand upon the wall.)

You do not immediately recognize the feel of the arms, because they are warm and pulsing with life. You stare up at Zoro's face in disbelief. He's missing an eye and his face is smeared with blood, mouth drawn in a thin line.

"You survived," Kuma intones softly. "You ate them." And you wish you could refute him, but even before he spoke, you knew it to be true. Zoro's bloody fingers dig into your clothes to hold you tight. You hear his heartbeat for the first time, and it rarely skips a beat. Kuma says, "Let your friend down, Roronoa. You don't want to do this."

"Think I'm some mindless cannibal? Think again." Zoro sets you down and looks  you dead in the eye. "Told you I wouldn't die. And neither will you. Now, get out of here." Half a second before returning his sword to his mouth, his tongue flickers over his blood-stained lips. "Hurry!"

You do as he asks and flee to the doorway of the building. You know you should run to the motorcycle and drive out of here, but there are two problems with that. One is how you don't want to leave Zoro again. The other is that even if you admit the truth to yourself, that he finally gave in and consumed the brains of his enemies like the zombies he used to put down...you don't want to turn around and see what he did to the corpses of Kuma's followers.

The fight is swift and brutal. You've seen Zoro fight before, but while he's normally a whirlwind with his blades, now he's a demonic torrent. Much as he tries to stick to his traditional fighting forms, they slip into more instinctual slashes when Kuma pushes back, and the only thing that keeps Zoro on top is sheer ferocity. He moves so fast, you swear he's slashing three times faster than a normal man, leaving the afterimages of a three-faced demon. (You've heard rumors of zombies growing entirely new parts when they've eaten too much mortal flesh, but surely those are only rumors, survivors not understanding what they're seeing...)

Kuma is far quicker than his size would suggest. But even he begins to buckle. He blocks one blade with a bible far sturdier than it appears, and then lunges forward in a final desperate attack. Zoro braces to parry an attack, but is taken aback as no blow comes. Something metal and blinking is clasped onto his wrist.

"We will not meet again."

And Kuma is gone. You blink in surprise. You swore you didn't see him leave through the other holes in the building, didn't feel anyone pass you, and yet...

The normally composed swordsman growls as he sheathes his swords and tries to pry the blinking metal bangle (a tracking device, what else could it be?) off his arm. You want to approach him, but are unsure if you should; all you can do is watch as he uselessly paws at the bangle. Until he stops suddenly. You catch a glimpse of fresh crimson.

Zoro freezes as the reality of what he's done, what he's become, finally settles in. He's a statue slowly dripping red, most of which isn't his own. His breath shudders, and that too takes him off-guard. He sways where he stands, almost falling to his knees but somehow staying upright.

Before you can stop yourself, your feet carry you toward him, and you reach out. Your fingers brush against his back. He growls, "Don't. I'm not..."

"It doesn't matter what you are. You're still Zoro." 

Gentle pushes at his shoulders turn him around so he faces you. His face has more color than you've ever seen, blood red and flesh pink and mottled blues and violets of bruises. His closed eyelid twitches as the eye underneath regenerates. How long will it be until all the color's gone, and electrical impulses run short to leave his heart to hang heavy and empty in his chest, and how much longer than that until he gets a taste for life again regardless of the cost?

That doesn't matter right now. The future looms taller and more frightening than Kuma, but right now, you're two scared humans in a broken warehouse. You wrap your arms around Zoro and pull him close.

For the briefest moment, you feel his mouth open, hear the click in his jaw. His teeth brush against your ear. You close your eyes and refuse to think about it.

His chin rests on your shoulder. Mouth closed. Arms wrap around you right and your hearts beat together, lungs scramble for air together, blood and worry (and tears, you think, but you're not sure whose) intermingle and crawl to a slow stop until only a numb and temporary peace remains.

"You'd be forgiven for walking away." His voice is raw and tired with the weight of living again and all that took.

"Maybe. But someone has to keep you from getting lost." You give him one final squeeze before letting him go. "Come on. Let's go home and get you cleaned up."

When morning comes, you'll have to face what the future holds for a brain-eating swordsman and the one who looks out for him despite it all. But tonight, the both of you are miraculously alive and breathing, and there's a green new plant in the window ready to soak up all the sunlight tomorrow can offer.

[ynscrazylife]

Something’s Wrong, Everything’s Wrong

SPOILERS FOR WANDAVISION! SPECIFICALLY THE 4TH EP.

Request from @nyx-aira

Summary: After witnessing Wanda throw Monica out of Westview, Y/N freaks out and looses control of her elemental powers. Agnes tried to help but Y/N doesn’t want her to find out about her powers.

Y/N struggled to take deep breaths as she tried to walk, nearly run, as fast as she could back to her and Agnes’ house. She had been walking back from the grocery store and had passed Wanda and Vision’s house, when she suddenly saw the new neighbor in town, Monica, fly through Wanda’s house, with glowing red around her, and then she just . . . disappeared. Now, she had suspected that there was something up with Wanda and Vision, but this just confirmed it. She had powers and she had just thrown Monica out into disappearance for whoever knows and, being scared to approach Wanda in fear it would happen to her too, she just kept walking, but her mind was racing.

Wanda had powers like Y/N did. Maybe she wasn’t so alone. 

Speaking of those powers, Y/N felt them start to act up now. Whenever she got emotional or scared, she’d lose some control, which was happening now. Without meaning to, Y/N let out a large gust of wind from her right hand and in her left hand, water spilled, causing a small wave until it all fell on the ground. 

Shit, shit, shit, Y/N thought to herself, beginning to freak out. She needed to get her powers in control. She needed to get them in control before someone saw her like she had seen Wanda- 

“Y/N?” 

Y/N hadn’t realized she closed her eyes until she heard her name and she immediately balled her fists up, willing her powers to just stop. She hesitantly opened her eyes and saw her girlfriend, Ages, standing with Herb near Wanda and Vision’s house. Agnes immediately walked towards her as Vision went to run inside his house. 

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Agnes asked, worry clouding her eyes. 

“Yes. Everything is fine,” Y/N lied through grit teeth. It hurt to repress her powers but she had to, and feeling the water swarm against her skin and the air just waiting to burst out made her feel like she was going to explode. 

Apparently, the tears and clear frustration in Y/N gave her away.

Agnes said nothing and simply wrapped an arm around her, saying something to Herb before steering them both home. As soon as they entered their house, Agnes closed the door behind them and walked up to Y/N once more, placing her hands on her girlfriend’s shoulders, displaying a stern expression.

“What’s wrong?” She trued again. 

Y/N tightened her fists - if possible - and her fingernails dug into her skin. She struggled to answer, head pounding as she continued to try and repress her powers, and let out a small whimper of anguish. 

Agnes bit her lip, beginning to get frustrated herself. However her concern far outweighed her annoyance, and she knew she needed to focus on getting to the bottom of what was getting her girlfriend so worked up. She struggled to think of what to say, and when she opened her mouth, hoping the words would magically form on her lips, Y/N shrunk away from Agnes and scurried back. 

“I can’t,” Y//N said in a desperate whisper. “I can't keep this a secret anymore.” 

Her powers got the best of her and suddenly, the gust of wind shot out from her hand. It had been boiling up and it flew for Agnes, throwing the woman into the wall. Hearing the thump, Y/N opened her eyes and yet out a horrified yell. 

“AGNES!” She cried, running to her girlfriend who now laid, dazed and confused, on the floor. Guilt started to overwhelm her. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Agnes, with the help of Y/N, sat up and rubbed the back of her head. “I’m fine, but what was that?” She asked. One second she had been standing there, next wind hit her - and why was Y/N  apologizing? 

Y/N sighed in relief that Agnes was alright. However, her secret was blown. She quickly looked over her girlfriend to make sure she had no injuries, and when she saw one, she told her the truth. “I have powers. Elemental powers, in specific.” 

Agnes stared at her in awe as she made a small wave of water in her hand. “Whoa,” she said, and after digesting this information, got confused and a little hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me you had powers?” 

Y/N looked down in guilt but pulled herself and Agnes up so they were standing. “I was . . . scared you’d hate me. Think that I was weird,” she answered in a mumble, keeping her eyes on the ground. “And I lost control today and I’m so sorry because I could have hurt you and-” 

Agnes gave her a kind smile, cutting off her girlfriend’s cute rambling. She cupped Y/N’s chin in her hand, tilting her head up. “I would never, ever hate you or think that you were weird. Heck - that was amazing! And you didn’t mean to use your powers on me,” she assured her softly. 

Y/N nodded and feeling better, she leaned forward into Agnes’ arms and the two embraced. “Were your powers the reason you were freaking out?” Agnes asked. 

Y/N frowned, now remembering what had caused her to lose control over her powers. She rested her chin on Agnes’ shoulder for a moment before pulling back. “No. I’m . . . not the only one with powers in this town,” she said.

[sapnxps]

(WTL) Chapter One: Greg the Neighbor- Georgenotfound x Reader

If I knew that when I moved to London, I'd have two weird neighbors, I'd laugh in your face. Now I'm friends with an old cat lady. Now I'm enemies with my cute neighbor that's definitely not single, who also screams too much.

Even though he's a dick, why can't I stop thinking about him?

My parents told me I’d regret moving to London from the state before I left because I’d miss them and the US too much.

They were half right.

I’m sitting on a box messily labeled ‘kitchen’ in the hallway of my new apartment complex. I huff, wiping the sticky sweat from my forehead. The moving bill is almost 4 thousand dollars. If I knew moving would be this expensive, I wouldn’t have moved out from my parent’s house until I was 40. Sure, I moved a lot of my belongings across the Atlantic ocean, but 4 thousand dollars? Who do I look like, Jeff Bezos?

Today has been hectic, to say the least. Three of my boxes somehow drifted away to Spain. Don’t ask me how that happened, I don’t even know. I’ve been unpacking by myself all day. A box of my kitchenware got shattered upon arrival. I should’ve listened to my Mom on that one, she told me to just buy plates and glasses here instead of shipping them here. Big mistake I’m never making again. Finally, the biggest chunk of my problems: My apartment is full of boxes and I don’t feel like unpacking. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been sleeping on an air mattress for two days, maybe not, but I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. If one more thing goes wrong, I think I might lose it.

Begrudgingly, I lift myself up from the box I was sitting on. It’s a bit dented now, but the way it felt on my ass, it’s just pots and pans. I open the door, pulling this box into my apartment. I weakly push it into the kitchen. It collides with one of the boxes filled with shattered plates. The sound of the broken glass sliding across the box sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I need to make a note to properly dispose of that. Turning my head to look around my new home, I feel my brain's short circuit. All these boxes unpacked, I’ve barely made a dent. This is going to take for-fucking-ever. Moving is modern-day torture. Oh, that’s funny. Remember to tweet that later.

The next three hours of my life are taken up by filling up my kitchen cabinets and drawers with cutlery and various kitchen utensils. The counter was now less bare, housing my toaster and breadbox. My Tupperware containers sat in a special place in the far-right cabinet by the sink. It looked like this home was lived in, as long as you didn’t glance anywhere else besides the kitchen.

I soon after tackled the bathroom, which was the less intimidating room compared to the living room and bedroom. I got the shower curtain hung up, which made it look nice. The rug found its way to the floor, protecting my feet from the cold, cream tile. The shelves were now stocked with a few fluffy peach towels and soaps. Underneath the sink had cleaning supplies as well as spare toilet paper. Living alone meant having nobody to give you another roll if you finish the other one. Kinda sucks. I had a boyfriend during high school, and two years into college. I dreamed of living with him, we planned it all out. I’d finish college, we’d move to a city and rent out the tiniest apartment we could find. We’d live it out until eventually we made ends meet and the rest would be. Dreams cut short though, he cheated. It’s part of why I left in the first place. Needed a change of scenery, new people.

That’s where I am now. New people. Stuck on that part. Haven’t gotten a chance to meet any, which is oh so tragic. I can’t decide if I want to introduce myself to the neighbors or let them come to me? I’m stuck pondering on the thought until I hear a knock at the door. I wonder if my lost boxes have mysteriously arrived.

Opening the door, I’m greeted with an older woman, holding out a small cake into my space.

“Hi dear, I’m your neighbor to the right. Heard all the commotion, saw all the boxes. I had to see for myself the fresh meat in the complex,” She paused before lightly tapping my arm with her free hand. “Just teasing! It’s great to have another lady on this level. The young man to your left, handsome fella, never comes out much though. Hopefully, we can have a girl posse or something,” Her posh accent made her much different than me. Is it wrong to already feel isolated?

I grin at her, moving out of the way to invite her in. “Nice to meet you, feel free to come in. I apologize for all the boxes scattered around, moving has been proven to not be quite my talent,”

The woman smiles brightly at me, shock plastered on her face. “You’re American!”

“That I am,” I chuckle. She hands me the cake, which I gladly accept. My diet has consisted of soggy hash browns from the complex lobby. She makes her way to what is settled in the living room, politely setting herself on my suede blue couch across from the large wall in the room. I place the cake on my counter by the stove, making a mental note to grab a slice once the woman leaves.

The shock never leaves her aged face, “Oh goodness! How amazing. I have a foreigner as my neighbor. You’ll find London quite lovely. I know how it feels to be isolated and removed from what you’re used to, but I promise you’ll fit right in,” She says as I settle myself on the loveseat a bit away from the couch.

“Where are you from?” I ask. She obviously isn’t American.

She smiles, “Just a bit east of Surrey. South of London. Beautiful area, grew up on a small cottage,” The woman was glowing as she spoke of her hometown. She was obviously proud of where she grew up. Compared to my southern Arizona town, this place seemed like heaven. A cottage? Sign me up.

“Sounds lovely,” I speak truthfully.

“Welp,” The woman slaps her laps, a way of signaling it’s time to end the conversation. Despite only speaking for a small amount of time, she seems like someone I can come to if I ever have questions about London or the terminology that I hear around the city. I’ll need to remember that she’s the neighbor to the right. As she began to see herself out, I remembered the other neighbor she mentioned. The young man to the left. I believe she used the term ‘handsome fella’ to describe him. Once she was out in the hall, I felt the need to find out more information.

“Oh!” I shout, hanging myself out into the hallway. She pauses her steps, turning back to me. “By the way, who’s my other neighbor? The guy you were telling me about. Does he have a name?” I ask.

“Greg,” She nods, resuming her short walk back to her apartment.

Greg. Ugly name.

I completely forgot about the conversation by dinner time. As I was munching down on my cake, delicious by the way, I heard loud yelling from my right side. I wouldn’t even call it yelling, more like high-pitched screaming. Who was my neighbor over there again? Greg? Greg. He was causing a ruckus and a mere heart attack at that. He was screaming so loud I nearly jumped out of my skin the first time I heard it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s facing a very, very gruesome murder right now. Well, I guess I don’t know any better. I’m just wishing for the very best.

Another hour passes. The yelling never stops. It’s only 8, but my body is as awake as ever. I still have yet to get used to the new time zone. At times it was difficult, but I’m using it to my advantage now. I have some extra time to unpack and get my actual bed ready. My bed frame was put together professionally during lunch, so that was one thing checked off my list. The mattress I ordered was delivered yesterday. Now it was just the matter of putting the sheets on and preparing my duvet.

Fitted sheets fucking suck to put on a bed. I was currently struggling to put it on my nice mattress. It was edging close to 10 pm. The sky was dark, and I was stuck in some odd mixture of a starfish and the downward dog position. If this moment was a picture, it could be used for blackmail. The closer I got to finally getting the top right corner on my bed, the more stretched out I became. I was like one of those sticky hands you’d get in those toy dispensers at the grocery store. I was just about to get it, when another loud shriek could be heard. In shock, I slammed my head on the bed frame and lost grip of all four corners of the sheet.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mumbled underneath my breath.

Whatever. He probably has a greater reason to be screaming like this, right? Justified shouting, whatever you want to call it. My bedroom is closer to his apartment than the kitchen was. Is it nosey to try to figure out what he’s saying? I don’t want to be that type of neighbor. I’ll continue minding my business because I don’t want to find out some weird shit about Greg that I don’t want to know.

The screaming never stopped.

In fact, if anything, it got louder. And louder. And louder. Is it okay to call the cops here?

It’s midnight now. The next fucking day. And Greg is still screaming at the top of his lungs as if everyone else isn’t asleep. If I saw some normal citizen just trying to get some rest, I’d be fed up. Well, I’m still fed up. I’m also running on a messed-up sleep schedule, so it’s not like I was trying to sleep anyways. My bed is made now, and comfy as hell. I built a shelf to house some of my small decorations, with the entertainment of my noisy neighbor’s yells to accompany me. For some odd reason, it made me feel less lonely.

At about 2, I began to reject the company. I felt irritation grow in my chest as I heard the same high-pitched shrieks that I heard at 8. The annoyance that bubbled in me overtook my politeness. Before I knew it, I was up and in the hallway banging on his door. I didn’t have the time to care about my Daffy Duck pajamas sticking to my legs due to the heatwave hitting England right now. Before I even realize it, my fist is slamming on his door. I never knew I had the power to knock that hard, but my anger and blossoming resentment overpowered me. I continued banging until the door pulled away from its frame. Now I’m face to face with Greg.

Boy was he handsome.

I was met with a man, about 5 foot 9. His dark brown hair was disheveled. Strands of hair laid across his forehead messily. If he wasn’t screaming, I would’ve thought he was sleeping. He was wearing a fluorescent green hoodie with an odd smile plastered on the front. It was a bit large for his skinny frame, that’s unimportant though. His grey sweatpants were twisted on his legs. What the fuck was he doing? His face was delicately shaped. This jawline looks sharp yet fragile like it was constructed of the most fragile rose crystal I’d ever seen. His brown eyes reminded me of caramel, thick and way too easy to get lost in.

“Hi, uh Greg-” I start. I’m just realizing now how close I am to him. The scent of his spearmint gum floods my nostrils. It’s a bit powerful, crinkling my nose at the smell. It wasn’t gross, just very shocking.

“George,” He spat. That’s fucking embarrassing. I’m meeting him for the first time and I got his name wrong. I’m not taken aback for long though, because his attitude oozing from his simple correction was enough to disgust me. I’ve done nothing wrong to him, except maybe get his name wrong. Was my moving too much of a nuisance to him? Poor little British thing, he can deal with it.

I cringe, “Oh, um, sorry.”

He leans into the door frame, sweatshirt adjusting to the movement. Forget a tiny bit large, he was swimming in this thing. “Yeah, no problem. Can I help you or are you selling girl scout cookies at,” George checks his watch. “2 in the morning. If you are, I’m not interested, sorry ‘bout that,” His outfit makes me feel a lot less aware of mine. Despite his face being rather attractive, the outfit makes him look like he just rolled out of bed.

“Oh, yeah. I was wondering if you could lower the volume a bit, please. Or just stop screaming entirely, if possible. I don’t know if you have some weird shouting fetish, but I certainly don’t,” I chuckle. George, however, doesn’t chuckle. Actually, he looks rather unamused. If a human was an art museum, it would be George. Curling into a ball and falling into an endless void doesn’t sound too awful right now. I think I’ll add that to my itinerary. I’ll do it in my bed so I’m at least comfortable while I’m drowning in my own self-pity.

He grimaces, “Yeah. Sure.”

He’s blunt. Got it.

The second I turn my back to the door, it slams. Wow. What a cunt. Shaking the interaction off, I begin to feel the wear and tear of the day beginning to hit me. Moving all those boxes made my muscles ache. The solution to all my problems today seems to be going to bed. Not that I’m not okay with that, just funny. The day before I left for London, you’d think I was shocked by lightning. The electricity that was running through my veins was no match for any ADHD medicine the FDA had ever approved. Now, my body is beginning to fall victim to the earlier time zone. Not that it was a big deal, it was going to happen eventually. These next few days would just entail a difficult sleeping schedule. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.

I quickly find my way back to my own bedroom. The yelling was quieter, but I could still hear George through the thin walls. He was murmuring to someone softly. This apartment complex was all 1 bedroom apartments. He didn’t live alone. How lovely! I made a fool of myself to him, and he was most definitely telling his partner right now. Talk about dignity, am I right?

I scrolled through my phone for an hour, before the screaming returned to its original volume. Would it be overdramatic to say I felt my face go red with anger? I don’t think so. I think I handled the situation as politely as I could. Hell, I even cracked a joke so he could know I wasn’t that upset over the situation! If I knew he was going to resume his disruptive noises, I wouldn’t have been so nice or absolutely hilarious. Nobody that douchey gets my amazing humor. He didn’t even laugh! I hear another shout followed by a slam to a desk. What the fuck is wrong with this guy?

Welp. Welcome to London!

[wicked-mind]

Spark: Chapter Two

Summary: Y/N and Damon were apart of a Hydra experiment for over a decade until they escaped. When power outages through towns along with bodies of murdered Hydra agents start popping up across the country, Y/N becomes Bucky’s mission.

Warnings: More drinking, trauma, mentions of (kind of )torture

Series Masterlist

All Writings Masterlist

*gifs not mine

Chapter Two - The Two Ts

-10 Years Ago-

Y/N sat in the small cell. She had been here for a while, stuck in the small cell with a glass door. There was a bed, a desk with some books and notebooks, and a small corner covered with a curtain as her bathroom. The walls were all white as well as the floor. She sat at the desk, picking up a pencil and putting another line with the many already on the page. The days she had been here. Almost three years. She stepped on the cold floor with her bare feet, hearing someone enter from outside the cell down the hall. She was wearing some grey sweatpants with a matching grey shirt, it was the same thing she was always given to wear once a week. Around her neck was what looked like a thick silver collar, attached by a long metal wire to the top of the room that allowed her enough freedom to walk around her whole cell without discomfort. She touched the glass with her palm and leaned her forehead against the glass as well, trying to see who it was. She hadn’t left her cell in a long time, and rarely got visitors coming down to her except for meals and a change of clothes. Y/N watched as two guards escorted two young men down the hallway, placing them in the two cells across from hers and the glass doors shutting behind them. One was shorter, dark brown hair with green eyes. The other was taller and skinnier, dark black hair and blue eyes.

Y/N spend the next few days getting to know the two. She had learned they were brothers, Damon being the dark haired one and the other was Stefan. They were taken from the military, considered missing in action. They learned about her as well. Her parents sending her away after they figured out she could create electricity. Being adopted by a nice family after being discharged from psychiatric care, but when it was finalized they handed her over to the men who brought her here. She told them everything she knew about Hydra, which wasn’t much. Y/N would watch as one of the brothers were escorted out, when they came back they were always exhausted, talking about being tortured and strapped into chairs.

The three were there together for years, become friends. Damon and Stefan quickly learned of why Y/N was here. The collar around her neck was used to absorb the electricity Y/N could create and power the facility, keeping the facility on the down-low from those who may be looking for Hydra. The brothers witnessed Y/N being shocked daily until she would eventually pass out, usually when one of the brothers were taken. She was the battery for the facility and their experiments. 

One day, the guards took Stefan and he never came back. A guard informed Damon a few days later that his brother had died as part of an experiment they were running on the two. Damon had flown into a rage, breaking everything that he could in his cell. He looked over across the hallway to Y/N who was also heartbroken to hear the news, tears streaming down her face as she sat curled on the floor. Damon and Stefan had become her family, “I’m going to get us out of here, Y/N.” Damon told her, “And I’m going to kill them all.” 

Damon would be taken for experiments almost daily after Stefan was killed. One day he came back to his cell different, talking about how he was stronger and faster with all his senses heightened. They told him they were making him a super soldier and the next stage was to brainwash him into submission after breaking his will to live.

Y/N remembered the day of their escape vividly. The sharp prongs in the collar pushed into the skin of her neck, causing her to scream as her body reacted with a large amount of electricity being sent through the collar and up through the wires. It wasn’t just pain she was feeling though, her anger and grief had grown since Stefan had died as well as after she heard what they were doing to Damon. She created a powerful surge of energy, causing the lightbulbs in the hallway to explode before the whole facility seemed to be overloaded with power and shut down. The glass doors to the cells opened in the darkness. Damon ran quickly across the hall from her, breaking the collar off from around her neck. The two made their way through the facility trying to find a way out with Damon killing every Hydra member in their path. When they got out, they found themselves in a secluded part of a forest around the border of Canada and the United States. Since then, they had been on the run before settling in Covington, Georgia together. They were inseparable, the only family both had left.

-Present Time-

Bucky found Sam waiting for him at the apartment that was set up as a cover home. Sam sat on the couch, watching some football game on tv with a beer in his hand. Bucky shut the door, locking it behind him as he watched Sam, “Make yourself at home.” He grumbled, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of beer for himself. 

“You missed our check-in last night, had to come make sure you weren’t off the rails.” Sam replied as he clicked the tv off with the remote, looking over the Bucky, “Where were you?”

“Working.” Bucky replied, taking drink of his beer, “I finally got in to plant bugs in the house last night, spent the night watching the house.”

Sam raised his eyebrows, “It’s about time. I thought we were going to have to pretend to be the gas company or something it get in there. What did you find?” He stood up, crossing the room to sit at the small dining table.

Bucky sat at the other end of the dining table, running one of his gloved hands through his hair, “Y/N is definitely some type of enhanced human, something to do with electricity. But I don’t think she’s doing the killings. She doesn’t seem capable of that, can’t even make a proper threat or lie without flinching.” He informed, looking at his beer, “She does have this friend, Damon. Don’t know much about him, but he definitely seems like the rip out your heart type.”

Sam nodded, pulling his phone out of his pocket and scrolling through it for a moment before sliding it across the table to Bucky, “Is this the guy you’re talking about?” 

Bucky picked up the phone, narrowing his eyes at the picture. It was a picture of Damon and Y/N walking around at nighttime, probably from a street security camera. He noted that they both looked younger than they do now. He nodded, sliding the phone back, “Yeah, that’s Damon. Where did you get that photo?”

Sam clicked the phone to turn it off, leaving it on the table, “It was taken two years ago, a small town in Washington happened to catch them on camera before the power went out in the whole town. It’s the first photo we have of the two.”

Bucky nodded at the new information, taking another sip of his beer, “I did overhear a conversation between Y/N and Damon. He said he saved her life again the night after the most recent dead Hydra agent.” He informed.

Sam raised an eyebrow, “Well, if Damon is the one killing all the Hydra agents we keep finding, we have to figure out how and why. And if the why is that the Hydra agents are coming for them, we need to know the why to that also.” Sam stood when he finished, “Don’t miss another check in. And at least get a damn picture to hang on the wall or something, spice it up.” He said before walking out the door, leaving Bucky alone.

Bucky sat silently after Sam left, finishing his beer before throwing it away. He had a few hours before he would start to head to the bar to see Y/N, and decided to get some much needed sleep after pulling an all-nighter watching Y/N’s house. 

Bucky awoke as quickly as he fell asleep, another nightmare. He ran his hand through his hair, breathing deeply. He pulled himself off the floor from his makeshift bed, pulling on clean clothes before putting the same black gloves and leather jacket on his always wore. Bucky made his way down the street to the bar, but stopped when he noticed it was closed. His brow furrowed in confusion as he looked through the windows, seeing nobody. This was the first time it’d been closed since he arrived in town. Bucky quickly came up with a different plan, walking into a nearby store and grabbing a bottle of tequila, a bottle of whiskey, and some chicken noddle soup before walking to Y/N’s house, gently knocking on the door.

Y/N was alone at her house. Damon had gone out of town, which he didn’t do very often. But when he did, Y/N stayed home in fear of going out alone. She dragged herself up from the couch at the knock, watching some dumb sci-fi movie with that wasn’t grabbing her attention.  She peeked through the curtain to see Bucky. A small smile appeared on her lips as she went to the door where Sarge was already waiting, unlocking the locks quickly before opening it to see Bucky holding a grocery bag, “Hi Bucky.” She said softly with a smile.

Bucky smiled at her, “Hey, Y/N. I went by the bar and saw it wasn’t open. Figured you were either sick or something was wrong so I brought supplies.” He said, holding up the bag, “Chicken noodle soup and tequila for you, whiskey for me.” 

Y/N let out a small laugh at the bag. She blushed a little bit at the thought of him thinking about her. She opened the door a little more, allowing room for him to come inside, “I’ll never say no to tequila. I also haven’t had dinner, so I won’t say no to the soup either. Come in.” She responded with a smile as she watched him walk inside and greeting Sarge who then promptly went and laid on the couch. Y/N locks the door behind him, all six padlocks. She took the bag from him, taking it to the kitchen and placing the contents on the table. 

Bucky greeted Sarge happily before following Y/N to the kitchen, “So which is it? Sick or something wrong?” He asked with a smile, “Just so I know if I should keep my distance, I don’t want a cold if you have one.”

Y/N looked at him and shook her head, “Don’t worry. I’m germ free, not sick.” She informed before grabbing out two small glasses for the alcohol and spoon for the soup, “Damon’s just out of town for a few days. I just.. feel safer at home when he’s away. Thanks for bringing me some dinner and tequila.”

Bucky reached out and uncapped the bottles of alcohol as he watched Y/N grab some glasses, taking a seat at the small table. There were only two chairs. He wanted to ask curiously why she didn’t go out when Damon was gone, but didn’t want to raise any suspicions in Y/N’s mind, “I could keep you some company tonight… if you’d like. When does he get back?” He asked as he filled the glasses up a little bit with tequila and whiskey.

Y/N nodded, “I’d like that.” She smiled towards him, sitting down in the other chair. She uncapped the styrofoam container of soup, spinning it with her spoon for a minute before taking a bite then setting the spoon down back in the container, “He said he shouldn’t be gone too long, he was headed to Washington to visit a grave this time of year. Probably going to be gone a few days.” She told Bucky breaking eye contact with him to look at the soup. It wasn’t a full lie. It was getting close to the anniversary of Damon’s brother’s death and every year he would go back there and try to figure out what happened to Stefan’s body. 

Bucky nodded slowly, lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips as he thought. Damon going to Washington where the first power outage and footage of Y/N and Damon were spot raised some flags in his mind. Why was Washington important to these two? Bucky watched Y/N take a few more bites of her soup. He grew more and more curious as to how a sweet girl like her got mixed up in something to do with Hydra.

Bucky sat with Y/N while she ate the soup for dinner and then putting the leftovers in the fridge, watching her sit back down and drinking the glass of tequila. He promptly filled it back up a quarter of the way, smiling over at her, “So what’s your reason for drinking?” He asks as he watched her face.

Y/N smiled and thanked him for the refill, bringing it to her lips, “You first.” She challenged before tilting her head back as she drank all the liquid without a flinch. 

Bucky chuckled at her, Y/N was quick. It seemed like she was trying to figure out as much about him as he was to her, “The usual stuff. Annoying co-worker. Trauma. The taste.” He smiled looking at the amber liquid in his glass before downing the rest of the whiskey.

It was Y/N this time who refilled their glasses with the preferred liquid, nodding at his list, “Ah. You have a longer list than I do.” She smiled over at Bucky, “My reason is just the two Ts. Taste and Trauma. Luckily it’s only me at the bar, no annoying coworkers.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

Bucky chuckles, “You’re lucky it’s just you. Annoying coworkers are the worst.” He said, rolling his eyes as he thought of Sam. Thinking of him made him take the next shot of his whiskey quickly before focusing back on Y/N. He noticed her watching him, as if trying to decode him.

Y/N watched Bucky, studying him. She was wondering why he was so out of his shell with her. He never spoke to anybody else at the bar or about any friends. Why would he be so interested in her? Bring her soup and alcohol when the bar wasn’t open? The tequila in her stomach was giving her a little courage, “Why are you here, Bucky?” She asks, her eyes narrowing.

Bucky was caught a little off guard by her question, shifting his weight in the chair, “What do you mean?” He asks, the smile fading from his lips to a stern line. 

Y/N tilted her head at him, “You noticed the bar wasn’t open so you brought me soup and tequila. People usually don’t do that for their bartender, they just find another bar to go drink at.” She said, her eyes still slightly narrowed at him as if she was trying to decipher if he was going to lie.

Bucky shrugs at her words, meeting her gaze. He knew she was analyzing his every move and word, “I like your bar, wouldn’t go to another one since I’m such a good and loyal customer.” He said carefully, “Plus, I thought you and I had fun the other night when I beat you at your game. I like spending time with you.” He said, realizing it was honest. He did have fun with Y/N, and he did like spending time with her. She was like a ray of sunshine in his dark world. 

Y/N bit her lip as she listened to him, looking down at her glass when he said he liked spending time with her to hide her flushed cheeks, “That’s very nice of you.” She said softly. She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment as she looked back to Bucky, “I don’t have much to do here…” She admitted with a small smile, “Have you ever seen the movie Alien?”

Bucky titled his head at her, a smile returning to his lips as she accepted his answer, “I haven’t seen that one yet.” He told her, refilling his glass with some more whiskey. He could drink a lot and wasn’t about to slow down now. He was having too good of a time with Y/N. 

Y/N smiled at him, “Oh, it’s so good! You’ll love it.” She told him, standing up, “It’s my favorite movie.” She grabbed her glass of tequila in one hand and grabbed Bucky’s gloved hand with the other, pulling him up out of his chair and into the living room. She set her glass of tequila on the coffee table before turning to put a DVD into the player, “I don’t have popcorn though, I hope you don’t mind.”

Bucky couldn’t help that his smile widened at Y/N’s excitement about watching a movie with him. He almost forgot he was here for work, not a date. Something about feeling Y/N’s hand in his felt…. right. He wished he wasn’t wearing gloves so he could feel her touch on his, but instead squeezed her hand slightly, “Don’t worry about it, doll.” He said with a smile, watching her put the DVD in. He sat down on the couch next to Sarge, watching her fumble with the remotes.

When Y/N got the TV to start playing the movie Alien, she took a seat on the couch next to Bucky. She smiled over at him a little before returning her focus on the tv. He made her feel nervous like she had thousands of butterflies in her stomach, but he also made her feel calm and safe and she couldn’t figure out why. It was a feeling she hadn’t had in a long time even with Damon constantly around her keeping her safe.

It wasn’t long into the movie until Y/N fell asleep with her head resting on Bucky’s shoulder. He took in his surroundings. He was watching a movie sitting on the couch with a beautiful girl asleep on his shoulder and a dog beside him. He wondered if this was something his life could’ve been like if he had never joined the army and been taken by Hydra. Bucky felt happy at the thought of it. He could stay in this calm, happy place forever.

__________________________________________________________________

Taglist: @big-galaxy-chaos​

If I missed anyone on the tag list, please let me know with a quick message. As always, thank you for the support (:

[thatpinkbetch]

Bkdk Fic Rec

I’ve been inspired to write a fic rec! This one goes out to you @lonely-rabbit

At like, the end of 2018 and the beginning of 2019 I stayed up until 4am every night reading fics, and because I’m such a loser, I made a word doc to keep track of all of them so I wouldn’t forget them.... I tried organizing it by length but it got messy cause I’m ridiculous and cluttered, so sorry! (I’ll save my own for the end alskdjflsdkfj gotta self promote you know). This is going to get...really long, so I’ll put it under a read more! Also, just a heads up, these are all on ao3, in case that’s important to anyone!

Disclaimer: Any fics with mature or explicit content I will add a bolded warning for, even if it’s only a little bit. Normally most fics will be tagged as such, but some fics that are rated as teen I’ve found to be more suggestive than some of those rated as mature, so I will try to point it out where it feels necessary, for anyone who wishes to avoid it.

Fics under 1k:

Illuminate by TheQueen (269 words)

Summary: Bakugou watches the first firework launch and fights to keep his face neutral

Very short, plot is about a case of amnesia, also very cute and well written for that length! Not angsty at all imo

sweaty hands holding secrets - shounentwink (563 words)

Summary: Someone said Midoriya holds secrets in his hair.

It’s not true: He holds it tightly in his hands. Bakugou’s seen it.

I really like this writer! You’ll see quite a bit of them in this post alkdsjfalskdjf

Fics 1k - 10k:

Many sunflowers later - Jeka (2395 words)

Summary: Scholar Midoriya Izuku comes back to the person he left behind after his journey through the kingdom, the mighty dragon clan leader Bakugou Katsuki.

Day 1 of Twin Stars Week 2020: Fantasy AU.

First of all, fantasy au!!! Second of all, jeka!!! (I need to read more of your stuff!!) Anyways, so cute, such lovely, pretty writing, wonderful story telling, and they’re so in love TT_TT

Boom Badoom Boom - warschach (3429 words)

Summary: Izuku's working the kissing booth at the school fair, it just so happens Katsuki has been crushing on him since the first grade.

“Did you—“ Izuku parted his mouth with no sound leaving it, “Did you pay?”

“Yea.”

“For a kiss?”

This one’s a little silly but I love it still. It’s got a “kids in the 80′s over summer vacation” vibe, I think. I love warschach! I should read more of their writing... They have SUCH good bakudeku content! *It’s rated teen but there’s some suggestive content, just a heads up!

Hopeless Ramen-tic - lalazee (7155 words)

Summary:  Midoriya is a cute guy who works at a ramen stall and Bakugou is thirsty as hell, but has to hide it by being an asshat. Another love story.

Ah, so good TT_TT so much sass, such good plot development and story telling for a simple concept *It’s rated as teen but again, it can be suggestive at times!

I’ll share this with you, so leave it behind - yabakuboi (3508 words)

Suammry: For the sake of the story, All Might is never in need of a successor, and, when Izuku saves Katsuki from the sludge monster, encourages young Midoriya down a different path. Thus, Katsuki and Izuku part ways after junior high, as Katsuki enters U.A. and the Midoriyas move overseas. It’s later that Katsuki realizes that there’s something missing, that he drove that something away.

Years after, Katsuki finds him in the last place he looks, in the cereal aisle at the local grocery store of their childhood neighborhood.

So soft, so sweet, so good if you just want to curl up in a comfy blanket and drink hot cocoa and feel warm and cozy and a little in love

The Secret Deku Box - yabakuboi (2241 words)

Summary: “Y’know, Bakugou never, ever talks about girls,” Kaminari says, his voice thoughtful.

“And I wonder why that is.” Ashido rolls her eyes.

“I’m just curious!” Kaminari whines. Kirishima drags the box out, unlabeled and unassuming, the lid not even fully clasped over the edges. “The guy has to— Whoa, what’s that?”

Kirishima realizes a little belatedly that this is a serious breach of privacy, and Bakugou will actually murder all of them. “Nothing!” he cries, attempting to shove it back under the bed, but Ashido snatches it away.

“Please be his porn stash!” Kaminari whispers as she whips the lid off.

Cute, funny, in canon, in character, and a must read I would say! 

daisy bunches and heather branches - halcyonwhispers (5862 words)

Summary:  izuku falls in love with the foul-mouthed tattoo artist next door.

Not another flower/tattoo shop au.... aldskjflaskdjfd Okay but punk!Bakugou is ALWAYS a smart move imo

the best part of me (is the worst I can give) - halcyonwhispers (5668)

Summary: Whole sentences usually make up people’s Words, but Katsuki got stuck with a name instead.

Izuku’s name.

I am such a sucker for soulmate aus when it comes to these boys TT_TT *There is some mature content, just a heads up!

Hard to Say - halcyonwhispers (8390 words)

Summary: Izuku is a Halfling, born after his faerie father spirited away his mom and then left her behind. Never quite fitting in with the humans or any of the supernatural beings in his small town, Izuku hoped that going to a diverse college in the big city will help him finally make friends.

Katsuki’s family has been powerful witches for generations, and he’s no different. Talented and a proclaimed genius to boot, he knew he shouldn’t waste his time on this dumbass (disgustingly cute) half-blood.

Or,

two idiots fall in love and don’t get that the other’s awkward cues are just a result of romantic tension.

I am ALSO a sucker for fantasy/mythical creatures au and I LOVED this one - Bakugou absolutely unable to handle how cute Midoriya is? Perfection - but it’s unfinished, and I don’t think it ever will be continued, unfortunately TT_TT

lots to unpack (throw away the whole suitcase) - shounentwink (4315 words)

Summary: “How’d you know?” Midoriya asks.

There’s a hunch to his shoulders that wasn’t there three hours ago. Freckled shoulders are kissed sunburnt and red: he looks like someone ran him over and left him like roadkill in the sunlight. Bakugou’s working with insurance today, but he could see the sparks of green lightning even from his elevated position in their shared agency. Midoriya’s holding his thumb, cracking it over and over — it looks like he’s rubbed it raw.

“Dunno,” Bakugou says. “Maybe you’re just easy to read, nerd.”

I love this one so much, it was one of the first ones I read, it’s so good, and it’s another that really affected how I view their relationship! Idk this one just hit for me

hang the moon from us (it’s a no from me) - shounentwink (1200 words)

Summary: Midoriya’s gonna get sick of Bakugou one of these days, and then the whole ruse will be over, and the balance of power will tilt beyond salvation, but that day isn’t today and it looks like Bakugou knows it.

What an asshole.

Once again, I’m a sucker for the fantasy au... But even more, the diction, the details, the imagery...it’s absolutely all stunning here. I wish I could write this pretty

In Which Bakugou Finds His One Tru Luv - Erina (5862 words) This is the first one of a series called The Misadventures of Explodo-kill Agency!

Summary:  Welcome to the Explodo-kill agency! We can destroy your buildings, crash your cars, and help you solve one of the seven mysteries in life: who is Bakugou Katsuki's mysterious boyfriend?!

I’ll admit I’ve only read the first three but by god they are the funniest fics I’ve ever read in my life. I see that Erina has added more since the last time I checked it out! Tbh I was only interested in reading the purely bakudeku ones... (My favorite was the second one!! SO funny and cute!)

i still do - raeryn (9646 words)

Summary:  He’s losing him to pieces, but Izuku still tries to make them count. In which a battle leaves Bakugou Katsuki with amnesia, and Izuku finds himself picking up the pieces.

So, this one makes me cry. TT_TT

One Thing Straight - winningshot (9899 words)

Summary: They totally aren't.

Hints of their relationship is found in all of their friends’ social media accounts, but majority of their fans still think that Katsuki and Izuku are in relationships with anybody but each other.

It was amusing up until it became sad.

Lmao it’s a little salty but I guess I can be too. This is a social media fic! There’s multiple ships in this one, too

A Demolition Boy & his Cryptid BF - kewltie (8472 words)

Summary: Bakugou of the Demolition Squad is famous for running one of the most popular Youtube channels on the web that regularly blow shit up and jumped off a perfectly good building for shit and giggles. He's also famous for his Cryptid BF™, never appearing on camera except for a few bodyshots and all information on him is kept locked up tighter than Fort Knox, therefore drawing all sort of attention and curiosity toward his mysterious boyfriend.

Deku from Deku Explains is a hopeless chatterbox who is known for uploading 20-30 minutes video that talked about his favorite shows and comics and have one of the most devoted following on Youtube. He also can't seem to shut up about his boyfriend Kacchan, who regularly make his presence on the channel as a disembodied voice.

They should theoretically have nothing in common except a shared platform to host their content and an army of fans with an endless curiosity and devotion to their Youtubers. Vidcon is where we lay our scene and the internet is about to get a rude wake up call.

Okay kewltie is SO GOOD and very creative! The formatting is phenomenal, it’s like you’re actually experiencing a social media melt down in real time lol

be my good luck charm - writedeku (6785 words)

Summary: See, the thing is, Midoriya Izuku had been born with a curse. It’s not a curse that’s particularly visible. He doesn’t have horns, or a tortured face, and it’s not the kind of silly curse like a friend of his had way down south in Diagnor, wherein the girl had been born without the ability to say the word duck. Midoriya Izuku is just extremely unlucky.

(Or the AU in which Izuku's the world's unluckiest travelling merchant, and Katsuki is someone who may be able to help him. For a price, that is.)

Oh I adore this one! It’s so cute and such a good narrative! Nice and warm, and Bakugou trying his damnedest to be suave, and it somehow working because Midoriya is just as flustered. *Another one rated as teen but some suggestive content.

Smells Like Victory - majjale (2377 words)

Summary: Bakugou takes two steps into the room and stops, clapping a hand over his nose. “Ugh, what stinks like Deku in here?”

"Good afternoon, Bakugou. That would be the amortentia."

I must admit, not a fan of HP, but majjale...TT_TT majjale writes these two boys so well. This one is really, really good!

Cherish Me - Justaperson1718 (2376 words)

Summary: “What?”

Izuku looked back down at his menu and flipped the page, a small smile on his face. “Nothing.”

Katsuki glared at Izuku from across the table. “If it was nothing then you wouldn’t be staring at me.”

“It’s just a little funny watching you try to look your best for our date when you always look great anyway,” Izuku explained. He wouldn’t look up from his menu while he spoke, but his words remained ingrained with confidence nevertheless. He considered what he was saying to be fact, and nothing else. “Even when you’re not trying in front of the cameras, it’s still hard to take my eyes off of you.”

This is a sequel to a fic that’ll be in the next section, because it’s longer, called Manage Me. Please read that one first before this one! (Not part of a series, but they’re the same story line)

Fascinating - Justaperson1718 (1556 words)

Summary: “I’m not staring at you,” Izuku replied, his eyes focused intently on Katsuki. He’s still wearing his pajamas, sitting on his knees in their shared bed. He was awake moments before Katsuki, and waited eagerly for the other to awake.

Katsuki glanced over his shoulder after his shirt was on and glared. “You’re fucking staring at me right now.”

Izuku shook his head, humming his disapproval quietly. “I’m watching you.”

“That’s the same damn thing,” Katsuki said while searching for a pair of pants in the dresser. “Your eyes are fixated on me like I’m your life’s fucking goal or some shit.”

“I just like watching you get dressed.” Izuku tilted his head to the side and smiled softly at Katsuki’s confused stare. “I know, it’s weird. But I like it.”

*There is a little bit of implied mature content, but overall, it’s just so sweet and intimate, and I just simply adore this one.

in a place once filled with gold - dorenamryn (9226 words)

Summary: It felt strange to remember such details, for they were things a friend should know, and as far as Katsuki was concerned, he and Deku hadn’t been friends in a very, very long time. He could admit, with reluctance, that they were on the path there, now, even though they would never make it. Katsuki would die before they could get the chance.

or: There is a garden growing in Katsuki’s lungs, and he is helpless to stop it.

“Hanahaki disease” okay, I can explain myself. Okay, I can’t. In any case, you got angst with a happy ending if that’s what you’re into!

Kaleidoscope - DPRenFTW (5141 words)

Summary: Izuku is a witch. He just needs to find his familiar. Enter a boy that is a wolf, and a wolf that is a boy - with wild red eyes and sharp smiles.

And Izuku thinks:

"Oh, it's him."

Just as beautiful and fascinating as the name implies! I seriously recommend for the beautiful writing, the gorgeous world, the mythical creatures au, and the lovely bakudeku romance!

Learning Curve - sensiblysilly (4222 words)

Summary: Deku and Katsuki’s first kiss goes rather differently than planned.

And Katsuki’s quickly learning that relationships can be unpredictable - especially when taking into account the variable that is Midoriya Izuku.

This really is just a careful handling of a teenage romance where perhaps one of them may have shit they’re still working through. It’s really sweet, and a careful study at boundaries and the building of a relationship. I actually stumbled across this while looking for another with the same name and ended up pleasantly surprised. Kacchan can has a little validation, as a treat.

4/20 is a national holiday - Ereri_Garbage (

Summary: Izuku is a drug dealer that doesn't really accept the fact he's a drug dealer, Katsuki is hot as hell as shouldn't be allowed a facebook.

Happy (Late) birthday Katsuki and happy (late) 4/20. I actually half assed an edit on this one so it took longer to post than I thought it would.

Uummmm lmao yes I have a sense of humor. ;ALDSKJFLSKDJF Okay, I say that, but this is not a crack fic, it’s a good story that I enjoy with good writing, and *it has mature, content, obviously for multiple reasons here. It’s rated as mature but there are borderline explicit moments imo. It’s a fun fic and funny, too! And, ngl, it really does remind me of college... But forget about me, the bakudeku is wonderful too of course :)

Drinking Watermelon - warschach (8906 words)

Summary: For whatever reason, maybe divine fate, Izuku turned and looked over his shoulder and waved to them.

Katsuki’s heart full on stopped right then, and his fingers forgot their duty on the rails, and his body neglected its job to keep Katsuki balanced.

Izuku’s summer sweet smile fell into concern as Katsuki went airborne and cracked his skull on the porch.

or Katsuki works as a camp counselor, and Izuku is a boy made of summer heat and sunlight.

Love it when people have Bakugou as absolutely enamored with Midoriya; it’s so good and true. Anyways this one makes me like summer camp story lines. It’s funny and also cute and great writing! *It’s got explicit content, just a heads up. Warschach stories just have this youthful 80′s vibe, I don’t know how else to explain it.

there are listed buildings - semiautomatichearts (3309)

Summary: Katsuki first sees colors bloom when he is only three years old. It is timid Izuku, hiding behind the cover of his mother's leg who looks upon him with wide eyes, and Katsuki's world explodes in shades of greens and pinks and blues, and he is so startled, he begins to cry.

His life is then on defined in color, in shades his peers can't see, by the forlorn, timid stare in Izuku's eyes that always lets off more than he is willing to tell. There is a schism driven between himself and his fated other, and Katsuki strives to be better than fate, better than what is defined for him. He is more than the written pages of a book, to be cracked open and read by the gods.

He wonders if it is possible for colors to bloom for someone who will never love you back.

Ah...soulmates :) So interesting how bakudeku fits into soulmate aus like this one when they’ve known each other as kids! And when they’ve had this complex push and pull thing going on all their lives! The writing is beautiful, and so is the story!

Promise Ring - bkdkwritingsdump (3579)

Summary:  The midwest in the 1950′s is no place for boys who like kissing boys: something Izuku and Katsuki know all too well growing up there. However, the undeniable bond between the nervous science geek and the aloof delinquent will still find a way to blossom in such a desert.

Cute, sweet, makes my gay heart ache. Longing not just for the one you love, but just to feel right loving them. Very pretty story line, lovely story telling!

Fics 10k - 30k:

Fishy - warschach (19417 words)

Summary: Izuku’s convinced his hot co-worker/neighbor, Katsuki, is a mermaid-or merman- you gotta consider genders even with mythical creatures- and plans to prove it.

(or this is kinda like the show ‘Monster Quest’, except Izuku actually finds said monster, falls in love, and have sexy times.)

Another warschach! I love this one, I love how they write bakudeku, particularly as college students, their stories (at least, the ones that I’ve read) always feel so warm, like a summer’s day, but not a lazy one, one that’s playful? If that makes sense? *This one is explicit, another heads up!

Manage Me - Justaperson1718 (10756 words)

Summary: Izuku caught himself moving forward, his head tilted somewhat to the side, and his eyes shot wide open. His gaze met Katsuki’s half-lidded eyes now that he was no longer in a dreamlike state, and seeing the way Katsuki was looking at him—waiting for him—made him realize Katsuki would’ve let him do it. He might have even wanted him to do it.

“You’re both doing fabulous!” the photographer called out to them, packing his camera into his bag and getting ready to leave. “I just got word that what we have now should be good, so we’ll stop there. Thank you for your time! Lock the door on your way out after you change.”

The pair stayed frozen in place, with Izuku’s arms around Katsuki’s neck and Katsuki’s hands resting on Izuku’s waist, while the photographer and his supervisor left.

“Kacchan,” Izuku cooed once they were gone. “Did you want to…?”

Love the story, love the bakudeku! Very, very good bakudeku TT_TT very sweet *There is some mature content in here as well

point to a map (we’ve been there) - cosmicfuss (10589 words)

Summary: Serendipity / sĕr″ən-dĭp′ĭ-tē Serendipity is the occurrence of an unplanned fortunate discovery. Two men find themselves on a subway, hot coffee on one while the other is in the middle of a screaming match. After that they can't seem to stop finding each other, no matter how far they go.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; this fic owns my entire soul. I love the story, the ease of their relationship, just how lovely they are together. It’s another kind of nice, fluffy fic you’d read on a bad day where you come home and curl up in a blanket and listen to a ten hour video of thunderstorm white noise. *Again, some more mature content in here

Partners - tsukithewolf (13619 words) Another series! Two parts to this one this time

Summary: It is said that in Musutafu there is a charm that one can buy at a temple that will lead you to your destined partner. They say that if the charm works, you would be able to follow the red string of fate to the person you were meant to be with. And if the person returns your feelings, they would be able to see the string as well, proving that both were meant to be.

Three-year-old Katsuki and Izuku misunderstand what the word "partner" means and discover the charm and the rumor behind it is not only true, but more than expected.

Gets a little heavy, depression, bullying, suicidal thoughts, etc. But it must get worse before it gets better, that kind of thing. I also just adore the second part (called Bond) - maybe because it’s much fluffier, what about it?

Learning Curve - iknewaman (10304 words)

Summary: “Izuku.” Uraraka repeats as she motions at the person stood next to her. Green curls, average height, and, well. Up close, not such a bad smile. Uraraka points a thumb at Bakugou and enunciates slowly, “This is Bakugou. He can speak sign language too.”

Wait. Sign language?

The stranger— well, Izuku— looks at him with a raised brow. Their free hand lifts up as they make a slight motion of the hand.‘

Really?’

*

Bored out of his mind at a house party one night Bakugou is introduced to Izuku, a deaf student who offers to help teach Bakugou sign language in exchange for a favour-- or well, is prompted into asking for a favour.

Ah, I really want to explain this one a little bit? I’d never been into fanfiction ever, only really getting into it with these boys. This was the second one I read, I remember, and it caught me off guard, and it intrigued me. It really surprised me as to what fanfiction could be. Ngl I had biased perceptions of fanfics - I used to be one of those people who thought fanfiction could never be good writing - and this one slapped me in the face with it’s subtle beauty and creative story and heart melting capabilities, and very, very real relationship and growth. Anyways it’s so cute how happy Deku is to teach Kacchan sign language TT_TT Make sure to read the tags!

The Keeper and the Sun God’s Heir - SurelyHeavenWaits (12746 words)

Summary:  The Titans' have stolen something important from Izuku, heir of the Sun God, and he wants it back.

This one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one this one- Oh my god this one. Okay so what, I was a Percy Jackson kid, what about it? I love the mythical aus, particularly the god ones. But beyond that, the writing is so beautiful, just like the world, and the imagery. The bakudeku...absolutely stunning. The story itself? Incredible. Cannot recommend more. *There is explicit content in this, though I will say, it’s all in the last chapter, and all of the story is in the first two chapters. There’s also a second part as it’s a series and it’s short but it’s cute and sweet TT_TT

seven days - aaAAAaaahhhhHHHHH (10094 words)

Summary: There’s something about the green haired boy, an aura that just drew Katsuki in before he even knew his name.

[Sometimes your mind forgets, but your heart remembers]

Heed my warning: DON’T read this in front of other people. I bawl every time I read this one TT_TT I know I said I don’t like angst but AJLSKDFJALSKDFJ it has a hopeful ending! I mean yeah you’re gonna cry but...hope? :’) (that username really says it all tbh)

Fics 30k+

Notice me, nerd - useless_donut (40000 words)

Summary: Bakugou is in love with Midoriya. He doesn’t hide it, in fact it’s so painfully obvious that the entire class of 3-A has him figured out in a matter of months (days, in some cases). Too bad Midoriya is the most oblivious motherfucker out there, and Bakugou is too damn stubborn to actually ask him out.

Will the class of 3-A survive the sexual tension? Who will snap first? Someone put Bakugou out of his misery, please, before everyone else dies of second-hand embarrassment.

(a love story as witnessed by the class of 3-A)

Love the idea of Bakugou being brazen and brash, cause yeah, he is. So fucking funny though how that translates to him flirting. Gotta say, thought I was gonna cringe, but his “I’m gay af” outfit really ended up being A Look. Love the mutual pining, it really is strong in this one. *Okay, mature content in this one lads.

While You Were Sleeping - Belkacaramelka (71197 words)

Summary: The one where quirkless fanboy Midoriya Izuku rescues Pro Hero Todoroki Shouto, gets mistaken as his fiancé while he is in a coma, and gets caught up in the most unlikely fake engagement... until his childhood enemy and Todoroki's classmate Bakugou Katsuki tries to catch him out, and they both end up discovering a lot more about each other than they'd expected.

Quirkless AU based on the film; endgame BakuDeku. -- Katsuki didn’t know when the change had happened: how he had gone from asking why Todoroki chose Deku of all people, to wondering why it was Todoroki that Deku chose. Troublesome Deku, who cooed like an idiot at cats, tripped at a random catcall and sang badly. Who, despite everything, proved that it wasn’t the quirk that defined a person. Deku, who was too much, not his, and undeniably off limits to begin with.

Update: Epilogue added

*This one has mature content. If you can, please, for the love of god, read this fic. It’s like, tied with my favorite bkdk fic perhaps ever. It’s based on the movie of the same title, a nineties romcom with Sandra Bullock, but Belkacaramelka has so effortlessly made it into it’s own story, fit it so perfectly inside of the bnha world. I definitely stayed up until 6:30am reading this one. It’s got such good badass Midoriya, who is also sweet, and really really good reconciliation between bakudeku.

All Gifted - fitzefitcher (39129 words)

Summary: The thing about gifts is that they're meant to be given, they're meant to be shared; so Izuku will take his gifts, so freely given to him, and share them with all he holds dear.

Izuku is born without any gifts, as his kind often are, to a witch mother and salamander father, on one sweltering night in July.

This one is unfinished...and I highly doubt it will ever be. But what has been written is incredible. Once again, I’m a sucker for the magic/mythical creatures aus. But the relationship is great! The characterization is great! The found family trope that was building up is great!

under a hollow sun - umbrage (40572 words)

Summary: Midoriya is cursed with emptiness.

Misfortune leads him to a man of ancient magic and endless rage.

To stop an unfathomable evil, their mismatched halves must become whole.

Uuuggghhhh this was so good! I don’t think it’s going to be finished either :( Once again, fantasy au, more amazing writing, on point characterization, incredible pacing, makes you hungry for more story.

all the savage soul requires - majjale (58032 words)

Summary: Bakugou seems to have exhausted his patience for words and no longer acknowledges that Midoriya exists, so Midoriya crosses his legs, stares down at his hands limned in firelight, and makes a list of things he knows.

One. His name is Midoriya Izuku.

Two. He is a Godmarked, future god of life, heir to the divine throne.

Three. The gods have been fighting Death for eons, and now he's coming for recompense with everything he’s got.

This is majjale, so of course, the writing is more than beautiful; it’s absolutely breathtaking. This may be my favorite fic ever - unfortunately I don’t think it will ever be finished either TT_TT There’s the gods/fantasy au, which you know by now I love. But the characterization of our two boys is absolutely perfect, and I mean that as literally as possible. And the story being crafted between the two, the memory loss, the obvious history muddled by it all, it was so dense, and the PINING, so incredibly written, flowing so naturally. It wasn’t even close to being done, but it was wonderful, still is wonderful. 

My Writing: (You can skip this if you hate shameless self promotion)

You’re too damn flicking cute (1815 words)

Summary:  Bakugou is certain his shitty boyfriend is instigating kisses. Maybe it doesn't help that he keeps giving them away like it's a damn going out of business sale, but the stupid nerd is too fucking cute. Either way, like everything else, this is a competition, and he's going to win it.

Please don’t read this unless you’re going to the dentist afterwards! I’ve been told it’s so sweet it’ll give you instant cavities >_>;;;;

Bakugou Katsuki, you smooth motherfucker (10118 words)

Summary: Everyone around him knows that Bakugou Katsuki has a very special way with words. To the untrained ear he is loud and crass; to those that speak Kacchan, he is caring and inspiring. Yet there are rare moments, moments so fleeting you blink and you miss them, where Bakugou’s words pierce straight through Midoriya’s chest, and surprise everyone around him.

Goddammit, if only he would say them to Midoriya’s face.

Or, the five times Bakugou said something nice about Midoriya, and the one time he said something kind to him (but that was too long of a title).

I think most would consider this my best published fic; it’s one of those snapshot fics, “the five times where x did this, and the one time where they didn’t.” The recurring comment I get on this one is both of them being super in character, so I think that’s it’s defining characteristic! Bakugou and Midoriya have never known a life without the other, and in a perfect world, they never will.

Here, let me fix that (11247 words)

Summary: Bakugou honestly never thought he’d see Deku ever again. And now that they were together in this tiny compartment, alone for the next two and a half minutes, he had no clue what to say. He’d just apologized, right? So perhaps he could leave it at that and carry on with the original plan to never see the green-haired man that reminded him of dense forests, late night adventures, and tear-stained faces, ever again.

Ha! Who is he kidding? These bitches are soulmates.

I’ve gotten some critiques on this one, so sorry in advance if it’s not to your liking! Basically, what if Midoriya never got his quirk? Obviously, life would find a way to put them together because, as previously stated, these bitches are soulmates.

Plenty of Time (16654 words)

Summary: Bakugou found what little sleep he got restless and filled with nightmares that he forgot the second he opened his eyes. Tonight was the first time in a long time where he just had a normal dream - and it happened to be about Deku.

How fucking typical.

In other words, two dorks realize they have feelings for each other but don't know what to do about said feelings.

Ah, my first fic. Very simple, boys being boys, kinda like a slow burn? Idk how to explain this one, just boys figuring out their feelings and trying to figure out what to do about them. Been told these two are a little stupid but I think that’s valid.

We’re all time bombs waiting to explode (39223 words)

Summary: We have now entered the slipstream of time, into an alternate dimension where it neither is, nor isn’t, the 80’s. Two teenagers, burdened with the weight of adolescence in the modern world, find themselves struggling side by side, in part because of each other.

Bakugou, the most popular boy in school, has everything he could possibly want; status, power, and an unbreakable will. Having been dragged along behind him all the way to the top, Midoriya can’t help but wonder how (and why) he ended up standing beside his childhood friend-turned bully-turned friend again, weighed down by their complicated past and present. As the tension between them grows every day, and the arrival of a new, pretty face causes it to peak, it won’t be long before something - or someone - snaps.

I am...very bad at titles, and summaries apparently. This was my Heathers au, but it very quickly diverges from the original (I don’t do sad endings....) *This one has mature content, including implied sexual activity, drug use, and underage drinking, along with other heavy topics; please read the tags! Though tbh Midoriya is 17 for a couple weeks before it hits his birthday halfway through, so keep that in mind I guess? I kind of went heavy with this one, but I think the pay off was immense. This is the one with the most amount of comments stating it’s their favorite bkdk fic ever (and I cry). It’s a rough start, with a rough journey, but so is bakudeku! There’s a lot of petty drama, and then all of a sudden it’s Not That Petty and very much Far Too Real. Many have cried reading the ending, I cried writing it. My sister says it’s her favorite of mine. Now, I did kind of push this out without polishing it so much because I was losing my willpower, so if it feels lacking, that’s one hundred percent my fault.

Okay that was a lot! It took me a couple days...I hope I wasn’t too annoying with all my opinions! Please have a nice day. and enjoy some good reads, even if they aren’t the ones in this post!

[pokemonswshbutionlyplayedsword]

I thought of this a long time ago but I never really put much thought into it. It's like a turf au or an apocalypse au I don't really know. But it's like it eternatus wasn't defeated galar went into this state of panic and basically collapsed. Now like everyone's against each other and like galars divided into the cities themselves based on the gym type. So most dragon trainers in hammerlock's and so on. The wild area would be life free war areas just thought it would be a cool postgame thing.

Okay, so I’m kinda new to the idea of turf aus, but I like what I’ve seen so far. As for apocolypse aus??? I love them. Like, a lot. One of my favorite types of aus. And now, Anon, you’ve got me thinkin about it, so sit down and lemme tell ya, cause I’ve got somethin’ to say. And tonight I’m feeling like ranting, so buckle up.

So here’s the plan, you’re on the right track. Eternatus demolishes Galar. There’s no leader that can ease the chaos that’s broken out. The economy is just gone. Wyndon fell apart and every other town was either mostly destroyed or abandoned. Now, what exactly is preventing Galar from putting itself back together? Good question. If you know me, you’ll know that my favorite game is Hollow Knight. In Hollow Knight, the player battles a plague caused by a godlike creature known as The Radiance. The Radiance creates this infection to gather the bugs of Hallownest and restore them to her hive mind (Yeah, I know that’s a lot to take in, but just go play the game. You’ll understand and you’ll also love it because it’s the best game.)

Now, I’m not saying that Eternatus creates a plague of sorts to bend the people and pokemon of Galar to its will, except that is exactly what I’m saying. That is what is happening. No other region can come help them because there’s nothing they can do, and even if there was some way to help, there’s no way for them to know if there’s actually anything left to save at all, and since Galar’s a big island, there’s no way for it to spread, so they’re on their own.

Here’s the vibe. Y’all ever heard of Darkwood? Yeah, another video game. Fantastic, incredible, intense and emotional. Aside from the fear and desperation to survive the night, the players of Darkwood will experience foreboding, hopeless and violent feelings. Protect what is yours and trust no one, essentially. Kill on sight kind of vibes. You know what I mean. And if you don’t, well, go play Darkwood, you won’t regret it. Warning, though, it’s graphic, bloody and can be really gross at times. But, like, that’s the aesthetic of it.

So, as a quick recap, what Eternatus has done: Effectively destroy most of Galar, especially the northern part of it; scorch the earth where Wyndon used to stand; spread plague and disease to technically enslave people and pokemon to only their base, animalistic instincts; and pretty much ruin the lives of the people who weren’t killed by the blast.

And, for the sake of convenience and my poor little heart, let’s say that no one was present for the event. Yes, Eternatus emerged in Hammerlocke, but it wasn’t defeated and it moved to Wyndon, taking possession of Rose Tower before creating the devastating blow that caused Galar to fall. No, no one we know dies, so that’s nice. But Eternatus is gone. There’s no tower to climb. No evil to defeat. No way out of this hell hole. Oh, and dynamorphing is officially cancelled, too.

ANYWAY, here’s where things get interesting. We now get to see what happens to our dear characters.

Milo is in Turffield. It’s a mess, but it’s not the worst place to be in Galar. He was there on his farm when it happened. Almost every plant was wiped out. Most barns were destroyed and the pokemon in them were either released or killed. It was hard, but Milo and his farmhands were able to salvage what was left and create a new, less impressive farm. Still, they have the most reliable food source in Galar. They had to build a lot of defense and acquire a lot of guard pokemon. They had to get really aggressive about defending their things because so many people would try to steal. But they get everything they need by trading with the other mini-societies that formed when the dust settled.

Nessa was in Hullbury. Things are extremely hard, but they’re on the sea, so a lot of the survivors tried to sail away. Nessa stayed, but she did help them try to leave. This was before the plague spread, so it was relatively safe, if not dire. After that, and when things get bad, she finds Sonia and Magnolia, and they go to Turffield to work and get protection. Magnolia definitely needs the sanctuary. Hullbury was abandoned.

Kabu is leading Motostoke the best he can. There are some survivors that follow Kabu, and they keep the production that comes from Motostoke, you know, metal production and shit. Most of Motostoke is abandoned. There’s a line of large warehouses and a nearby grocery store that the people made into a base. They’re a large crowd, but they do well because they’re so close to Turffield. There’s a lot of paranoia, though, because there’s not a lot of room for trust.

Bea is an excellent fighter, of course, so she protects Allister and the rest of the people who stayed in Stow-on-Side. They moved into the cave with the statue of the two kings. It’s so easy to fortify and, in fact, due to their pokemon, and the fact that a lot of people there have the right kind off pokemon, they are able to carve the cave out more and make an actually viable place to stay. They struggle with food a bit because they’re far from any reliable source, but they’ve made it work for their small group. There are very few of them left, so there’s a lot of trust.

Allister stays close to Bea. He’s terrified of what’s happening. He does his best to help, but mostly he stays in and tries to think of ideas. He’s come up with the idea of making tunnels to the other mini-societies. He understands that they survive if they have something worth trading. They have the power to make transportation possible. He’s currently looking for other ideas, too. If they make resources easier to access and they get means to acquire them, they’ll have a better chance of survival.

Opal knows that the woods around Ballonlea are thick and hard to traverse when the proper paths are not kept up. Thus, she has a choice to make. Does she make her town vulnerable or does she isolate herself from any other resources? She chooses isolation. They build into the trees to expand. They’re able to make farms of sorts, but they also forage. The survivors in Ballonlea isolate themselves from the plague and survive by living like the fairies- with the fairies. Most of the outside world don’t know if Ballonlea still exists. Opal knows she likely won’t live to see the end of this situation, she can only hope that she can teach her successor to lead the people of the forest.

Melony sets aside her problems with Gordie to protect her family. She works with Circhester to isolate herself from the rest of Galar. It’s hard to get to Circhester because the event caused the snow to come down harder. That makes resources hard to come by as well, though. The hot spring and a large home that houses the survivors are their stronghold. They’re not worried about being stolen from. However, monthly a group of people have to take their pokemon out and journey to the rest of Galar to trade and get resources. It’s risky, but its their only option. Melony normally leads these expeditions, and Gordie takes over while she’s gone.

Gordie is the second in command in Circhester. He’s the strategist, so to speak. He comes up with the plans. He takes care of everything while Melony is gone. He’s especially protective of his younger siblings. It’s going to be hard to grow up in a post-apocolyptic world. He used to sit around and think of what would happen in this situation, but now that he’s actually here...? He’s completely forgotten about his problems with Melony before the disaster.

Piers counts himself extremely lucky. Spikemuth has walls. It protected everyone within the city from the blast. But the walls are thin and they were already poor to begin with. The thing about Spikemuth is that they’re survivors. They may not specialize in anything, but they scrape by any way they know how. Piers may come off as an apathetic and careless person, but in this disaster, Piers steps up to lead Spikemuth. He fortifies the town with metal from Motostoke, he manages to barter with Milo to get food. They’re on cliffs right next to the sea. Some days it’s an Arceus send, some days it’s another way for Eternatus to laugh at them, but it does bring in food and scavenge sea garbage. In a town full of Zigzagoons, what else do you expect? One of the things they barter with is sending people to be temporary warriors/bodyguards. The people of Spikemuth can mf SCRAP.

Raihan fled from Hammerlocke with the rest of the survivors. They went to find Leon in Wedgehurst. There was nothing left to salvage in Hammerlocke. Some people split off from the main group. Raihan convinced Piers to let them seek refuge in Spikemuth. Some of them joined Milo. A few hoped to find Ballonlea, which wasn’t unheard of. Compared to the rest of the Galar, the rumors sounded like utopia. Raihan still has hope that help is on the way, and he’s used that to lead his people as far as they will go. His pokemon are strong and he can defend himself and his loved ones. He joins Leon in Postwick, where they retreat into the Slimbering Weald.

Leon evacuated Wyndon along with everyone else who was smart enough to leave. He immediately returned to Postwick to join Hop and his mother. The people there were pretty unharmed, since the blast didn’t reach quite far enough. Wedgehurt was abandoned for sure, but that didn’t really matter. They’re close enough to Milo to not have to worry about food so long as people came to help tend to the farms sometimes. Eventually, when things turned even worse than they already were, Leon led Postwick into the Slumbering Weald. With his powerful pokemon, he was sure he could protect them, especially with Raihan at his side. They’ve made themselves a home there, in that Weald, hoping that Zacian and Zamazenta reveal themselves to end this.

Rose is not safe anywhere. The people of Galar hate him for what he’s done, and there’s no one there to listen if he tried to explain himself. He’s not a survivor, he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He and Oleana end up leaving Wyndon with a certain small group headed towards Motostoke. He keeps his head down and his hood up. He wants to find the gym leaders and other authority figures around to make a plan to fix the region, but he can’t do that yet. He doesn’t have the means or the plans to make it happen. He eventually branches off from that path because he has no choice but to follow Oleana. She leads him to Spikemuth, and she convinces Piers to accept them. It’s not easy, but Spikemuth is probably one of the safest places for him now.

Oleana stays with Rose. She calls all the shots, but she protects him at all costs. She knows he never meant for this. She’s a fighter and good at surviving. Through rumors and travelers, she learns that Spikemuth is accepting of all stragglers who need walls to protect them. One of two things happen if she takes Rose. 1. They’ll be killed on sight or 2. Piers will accept them and they’ll be safe. Oleana doesn’t ask Rose, because she knows he’s still in shock and not of right mind right now. She thinks she’ll be able to get through to Piers, they understood each other. Luckily, she’s right, but she has to work extra hard to earn both their keep. She doesn’t exactly mind, since she rises through the ranks quickly and proves to be especially valuable to Piers.

Sonia goes with Nessa to Turffield with her grandmother. She regrets leaving Leon behind, but she had no choice. She had no idea if he was even alive. She hears rumors that he’s leading Postwick, but she can’t make the trip to see for herself. She won’t leave Magnolia behind, even if it means mucking around in Wooloo pens to earn her and her grandmother’s meals. It’s a simple life, not much to it, but she knows she’s extremely lucky. A lot of people never got this far. Plus, Turffield is an empire compared to the rest of Galar, and it’s one of the best places to be since they’re so wealthy there and Milo is so kind.

Magnolia is too old and weak to survive on her own. She knows she’s lucky that her granddaughter brought her with her. Turffield is the perfect place to be for them. Sonia earns both their keeps, so Magnolia lives a very easy life. She’s researching the phenomenon that’s happening, and Milo is happy to let her. She really hopes to find out what happened to everyone and to find a way to end this. She really needs Oleana and Rose to help her, but she thinks they’re dead, so there’s no point in looking for them. She’d go to Wyndon to look for answers, but there’s no Wyndon left to go to.

Hop was terrified when it happened. Luckily, not days after the disaster struck, Leon came home and led them all to the Slumbering Weald. He’s been Leon’s apprentice of sorts. He’s been learning to be a leader like him. He hopes that he’ll be able to help more soon. He misses his friends, and right now, he’s been looking into a communication method without cell phones or electricity.

Marnie is in Spikemuth, as Piers’ second in command. She’s incredibly important because she can see things that Piers can’t. He’s fiercely protective of her, more than he was before. She’s looking for solutions to all of Spikemuth’s problems, and she’s the one that convinced Piers to let Rose and Oleana into Spikemuth. She has been listening to all the rumors and stories that pass through, hoping to hear about anyone she knew.

Bede is in Ballonlea, being taught everything Opal knows. He was the one who suggested building into the trees. Opal’s proud of him, but he knows she worries. Bede doesn’t know how long they can last until they need to make contact with the rest of Galar. He’s stressed about the future and he doesn’t know how to fix any of these problems.

Anyway, the point is, Eternapocolypse AU is a thing now, and I encourage all of you to interact with it. I love apocolypse aus so much. Only post for tonight btw because I’m tired and this took an hour to write out.

[mediocre--writing]

Hey! I just read a couple of your drabbles and I LOVE THEM!💙💙

So if you don't mind, could you please do a Harringrove drabble/ficlet based on either of the two (or a mix of both, if you can) Twenty One Pilots songs "Tear in My Heart" and/or "Smithereens"?

Because, for me, Tear in My Heart is very Billy and Smithereens is very Steve👉👈

Thank you!!💜

Ok so love this and you have an amazing mind, just so you know.

This is like a 2 in 1 fic post so :))))

So smithereens and steve work so well together, like

“I go step to a dude much bigger than me/ for you I know that I would get messed up, weigh 153/ For you I would get beat to smithereens”

Like this is just Steve's personality. He got into a fight every season and barely ever wins without intervention. And like i could see him just being so overcome with emotions that he just does what he knows, which is self destruct.

Like with his fight with Jonathan, he almost accepts that Nancy was too good for him and thinks that he might as well take other people with him.

Then with Tommy in the parking lot, it’s not really a fight, but it shows that he has a conscience and fixes his mistakes.

Then with his fight with Billy, he only tries to protect the kids, even if he’s losing miserably.

I could 100% see steve having snuck into billy’s room during the night once (before he really knew about neil), not to do anything nefarious, but just that he had a really bad nightmare, because there was a small power outage, and billy is really good at helping him sleep afterwards.

And let's just say that Billy's alarm clock (which is always set for 5:30am, half an hour before Neil wakes up just to give him peace of mind) doesn’t go off because of the power outage.

And Neil comes to wake up Billy for school because he hasn’t woken up yet, and sees Billy spooning Steve and both boys are snoring and pressing bare chest to bareback, and so deep asleep that Neil lets them sleep, letting them wake up on their own.

And they do. Billy wakes up around 8am, feeling insanely well rested. He smiles and squeezes Steve before turning to sit up from his bed to look at his alarm clock, that’s blinking on and off and reads 3:18am, but the sun’s up and… the house is quiet.

Billy feels the dread settle deep in his chest, and swears he could cry if he were .000000001% more worried.

He hears the creaking of work boots walking around the house and knows, just from the tension lingering in the air, that it’s just an angry Neil pacing in the kitchen/ dining room and waiting for Billy to wake up.

He doesn’t know whether to wake Steve up and tell him to escape out of the window and run or just let him lay there anyway, it’s obvious that Neil already saw.

He let’s Steve sleep and throws a shirt on and slowly walks out of the room into the pits of hell, seeing Neil turn to him with an angry face a brighter shade of red than a firetruck.

As slurs are screamed and Billy is thrown into the walls and has family tchotchkes launched at his face, Steve wakes up after a particularly painful shove makes the wall shake, pushing a single picture frame fall off the wall on the other side.

Steve shoots up after that loud bang and hears a wail and muffled yelling before something else hits the wall. He grabs his shirt and puts it on as he walks out the bedroom door, seeing glass shattered on the hardwood leading to the family room, but what he sees around the corner is so much worse.

Billy’s bleeding in about twenty different spots, body curled in a ball in the corner of the kitchen, Neil standing over him, but turning to Steve with a grin.

Steve feels his blood boil as dots connect and loose ends are tied up, making the connection between Billy's bad nights and the new bruises he’ll sport under his shirt. The way he tries to hide it when he flinches at loud, authoritative men who are bigger than him. Why he told Steve to never call his house and why he is the way he is.

So Steve doesn’t think for another second before launching himself at Neil, slamming him into the floor, but that’s about as much as he wins that fight, because Neil is slamming him back and beating him the same way he did his son.

And billy, let’s admit it, is probably much stronger and a better fighter than his dad, but it’s so hard to fight back against an abuser that has controlled your life for so long. Even when you know you could win and that they deserve it, neil hargrove is still his dad and he could never get it into his head to hit him back.

But Steve was trying too hard to take him down because he was doing the wrong thing and losing terribly, never having won a fight once in his damn life.

Billy’s sitting up against the wall, ribs in excruciating pain and vision blurry, but he sees Steve getting up and kicking Neil once before backing up, and Billy sees his camaro keys in the dish by the front door.

So he stands up as fast as he can, ignoring the dizziness as if that would make it go away, grabs steve’s arm and shoots to the door, grabbing the camaro keys and shooting outside

He takes the driver’s seat, despite his dizzying head, just knew that he’d have to drive for a few miles then they could reevaluate, and Steve was clumsily getting into the passenger side.

Billy had only just started the car when Neil came rushing out the door, screaming threats and slurs as if that would make them stop their escape.

The camaro backed out of the driveway and shot down cherry lane in record time, going to the center of town, the least likely place Neil would cause a scene.

It isn’t until Billy puts the car in park that he can bear to look at steve.

He’s got a bloody nose and his shirt sleeve is torn off, hair disheveled from both sleep and the fight.

But billy looks so much worse.

He’s still hunched to the left from his ribs, he’s got tons of cuts along his arms, legs, and face from, what steve suspects, the broken glass on the floor. He’s also got this wild-animal-look in his eyes. One that screams, I escaped alive, but at what cost?

“Bill-”

“Why’d you do that?”

“Why-- I’m sorry are you asking me why I attacked your dad when he was kicking you while you were, literally, on the floor?”

“Ye--no, I-- but you got hurt, why’d you do that?”

“Billy, what did you expect me to do?” a shrug is all he gets in response--”If you saw my dad doing that to me, can you honestly expect yourself to stand there and watch it happen, or walk away and let it happen?”

Billy turns to face the grocery store--Melvad’s-- that they were parked in front of.

“It’s all weaving together in my head. All the bruises, the jumpiness, how you like to control things, it all makes sense, but what doesn’t make sense is why you wouldn’t just tell me, Bill,”

“And what exactly would you have been able to do about it, huh? You gonna take care of the situation or some shit, Steve? Trust me, I’m used to it and--”

“But you shouldn’t have to be ‘used to it,’ Bill, that’s abuse, and you don’t deserve that shit, not ever,”

Their conversation is halted by a tap on the glass by Steve's window, and the boys turn to see Joyce Byers looking more motherly than ever.

Steve rolled the window down.

“The hell happened to you boys?” she asked but corrected herself with a shake of her head, “Doesn’t matter, just come in to clean up, we’ve got bandages and antiseptic, free of charge,”

Billy wiped away the tears he didn’t know had formed and nodded to her, “We’ll be out in a minute, Mrs. Byers.”

“Joyce, please,” she demanded softly.

“Joyce, of course,” Billy offered a subdued smile.

She walked off and Steve rolled the window back up.

“Thank you,” Billy spoke quietly after a moment. “I’m glad he didn’t hurt you worse,”

“Billy, for you I would get beat to smithereens,”

“Well of course you would, you weigh like 100 pounds, not like you could put up much of a fight,”

“Hey! I gave him a black eye, thank you very much!”

“Oh, well, my bad, baby, then maybe you weigh 150, huh?”

Steve grumbled from the passenger seat, “153,”

Billy chuckled and grabbed Steve's hand over the console, locking eyes and smiling at each other, enjoying their small moment.

“We should probably get in there before Joyce comes out herself?” Steve sighed as he moved to take his hand out of Billy's.

“One more minute, please,”

Steve just tightened his grip on Billy's hand and moved towards the center of the car to rest his head on Billy's shoulder, Billy's head falling onto his.

-

Billy and Tear In My Heart thooooooooo

Like it fits him so well, again this is amazing.

I also see billy as a resident hater of america and it’s fucking government becuase, well, they have a history between his myriad of speeding tickets and, oh what was it, oh yes, the tentacle monster that impaled and possessed him.

And in California, there’s no cold weather where he lives, so there’s not exactly potholes to avoid.

The first time he drives into the cooler states and has to avoid potholes, he decides that his car deserves a vacation after this.

But the potholes become the biggest issue after he and Steve start dating.

He’s absolutely enamoured by this boy, because who wouldn’t be. He respects Billy's limits and can hold his own in arguments, and they fit together like missing pieces of a puzzle.

Steve has changed Billy, not that he’d admit it, but he’s softer now and all of his sharp edges have been baby-proofed. They’re still there and dangerous, but they’re more difficult to be stabbed by.

All the cracks in his heart have been filled with gold, like Kintsugi (a Japanese technique of repairing broken pottery with gold).

And Billy can complain and complain about Steve's clinginess, about his intrusion into his life, and his persistence to stay, but deep inside Billy's never felt more loved or cared for in his life.

But these damn potholes might just make him lose it.

Because billy is anything but a bad driver, he can control the car even when it’s going 45 over the speed limit, but now that steve falls asleep after their movie dates or when they’re coming back from barbeques with the party, Joyce, and Hopper, he’s driving the speed limit.

Which is just appalling.

But some of these potholes are so deep you could dive into them and not hit the bottom.

Like what the fuck, Indiana?

And, one time, Max is with them after a barbeque when Steve falls asleep and Billy slows the car down to what feels like snail speed, but is just the speed limit.

“Why are we going so slow?” Max asked as she leaned forward from the backseat to whisper to billy.

“Steve’s sleepin’,” he said, as if it was the obvious reason.

“You’re whipped,”

“Shut up, Shitbird,”

Max leans back into her seat with a grin on her face at the absolute mush her big, tough brother has turned into for Steve Harrington.

[disaster-ace-is-me]

evermore lyrics that hit different

what’s up y’all i made a list of specific lyrics from taylor swift’s evermore album that really hit different for me because i just want everyone to focus on them for a bit :) (i originally wasn’t going to post this but now i’m working on analyses for the album and posting this helps me with that and might give y’all insight to what’s already going on in my brain when i hear these songs)

*pretty much the entire song

“champagne problems”:

“Your heart was glass, I dropped it”

“‘This dorm was once a madhouse’/I made a joke, ‘Well, it’s made for me’”

“How evergreen, our group of friends/Don’t think we’ll say that word again”

“I never was ready, so I watch you go”

“‘She would’ve made such a lovely bride/What a shame she’s fucked in the head,’ they said”

“gold rush”:

“I don’t like that falling feels like flying till the bone crush”

“And then it fades into the gray of my day-old tea/’Cause it could never be”

“I can’t dare to dream about you anymore”

“And the coastal town we never found will never see a love as pure as it”

“’tis the damn season”:

“It’s the kind of cold, fogs up windshield glass/But I felt it when I passed you”

“And the road not taken looks real good now/And it always leads to you and my hometown”

“I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave?”

“Time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires/Now, I’m missing your smile, hear me out”

“And wonder about the only soul/Who can tell which smiles I’m faking”

“And the heart I know I’m breaking is my own/To leave the warmest bed I’ve ever known”

“tolerate it”*:

“I sit and watch you/I notice everything you do or don’t do/You’re so much older and wiser and I”

“I wait by the door like I’m just a kid/Use my best colors for you portrait”

“If it’s all in my head, tell me now/Tell me I’ve got it wrong somehow”

“I know my love should be celebrated/But you tolerate it”

“I take your indiscretions all in good fun/I sit and listen/I polish plates until they gleam and glisten”

“Where’s that man who’d throw blankets over my barbed wire?”

“I made you my temple, my mural, my sky/Now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of you life/Drawing hearts in the byline”

“Always taking up too much space or time”

“You assume I’m fine, but what would you do if I/Break free and left us in ruins?/Took this dagger in me and removed it?/Gain the weight of you then lose it?”

“happiness”*:

“All the years I’ve given/Is just shit we’re dividing up”

“I was dancing when the music stopped/And in the disbelief, I can’t face reinvention”

“Past the curses and cries/Beyond the terror in the nightfall”

“Haunted by the look in my eyes/That would’ve loved you for a lifetime/Leave it all behind”

“Tell me, when did your winning smile/Begin to look like a smirk?/When did all our lessons start to look like weapons/Pointed at my deepest hurt?”

“Sorry, I can’t see facts through all of my fury”

“There is a glorious sunrise/Dappled with the flickers of light/From the dress I wore at midnight/Leave it all behind”

“I can’t make it go away by making you a villain”

“And I pulled your body into mine/Every goddamn night, now I get fake niceties”

“No one teaches you what to do/When a good man hurts you/And you know you hurt him too”

“But now my eyes leak acid rain on the pillow where you used to lay your head”

“After giving you the best I had/Tell me what to give after that/All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness”

“dorothea”*:

“Hey, Dorothea, do you ever stop and think about me?/When we were younger down in the park/Honey, making a lark of the misery”

“You got shiny friends since you left town/A tiny screen’s the only place I see you now/And I got nothing but well wishes for ya”

“You know that you’ll always know me, Dorothea”

“From you, I’d buy anything”

“Hey, Dorothea, do you ever stop and think about me?/When it was calmer skipping the prom just to piss off your mom and her pageant schemes”

“But are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers?/Well I guess I’ll never know/And you’ll go on with the show”

“coney island”:

“If I can’t relate to you anymore/Then who am I related to?”

“Disappointments, close your eyes/And it gets colder and colder/As the sun goes down”

“What’s a lifetime of achievement/If I pushed you to the edge?”

“Will you forgive my soul/When you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?”

“And when I got into the accident/The sight that flashed before me was your face/But when I walked up to the podium, I think that I forgot to say your name”

“ivy”:

“I just sit here and wait/Grieving for the living”

“Oh, goddamn/My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand”

“So, yeah/It’s a fire/It’s a goddamn blaze in the dark/And you started it”

“long story short”:

“Fatefully/I tried to pick my battles till the battle picked me”

“I was in the alley surrounded on all sides/The knife cuts both ways/If the shoe fits, walk in it till your high heels break”

“And I fell from the pedestal/Right down the rabbit hole/Long story short, it was a bad time”

“Past me/I wanna tell you not to get caught up in these petty things”

“marjorie”*:

“Never be so kind/You forget to be clever/Never be so clever/You forget to be kind”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were still around”

“What died didn’t stay dead/You’re alive, you’re alive in my head”

“Never be so polite/You forget you power/Never wield such power/You forget to be polite”

“And if I didn’t know better/I’d think you were listening to me now”

“You loved the amber skies so much”

“I should’ve asked you questions”

“Should’ve kept every grocery store receipt/’Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me”

“All your closets of backlogged dreams/And how you left them all to me”

“evermore”*:

“Gray November/I’ve been down since July”

“I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone/Trying to find the one where I went wrong/Writing letters/Addressed to the fire”

“And I couldn’t be sure/I had a feeling so peculiar/That this pain would be for/Evermore”

“Hey, December/Guess I’m feeling unmoored/Can’t remember/What I used to fight for”

“Barefoot in the wildest winter/Catching my death”

“Can’t not think of all the cost/And the things that will be lost”

“I’m on waves, out being tossed”

“In the cracks of light/I dreamed of you/It was real enough/To get me through”

“right where you left me”*:

“I, I swear you could hear a hair pin drop/Right when I felt the moment stop”

“Everybody moved on I, I stayed there/Dust collected on my pinned-up hair/They expected me to find somewhere/Some perspective, but I sat and stared/Right where you left me”

“She’s still twenty-three inside her fantasy”

“Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion?”

“But I’m unaware/’Cause I’m right where I cause no harm/Mind my business/If our love died young/I can’t bear to witness/And it’s been so long”

“it’s time to go”*:

“When the words of a sister come back in whispers/That prove she was not in fact what she seemed”

“That old familiar body ache/The snaps from the same little break in your soul/You know when it’s time to go”

“We’re trying to stay for the kids/When keeping it how it is will only break their hearts worse”

“Sometimes giving up is the strong thing/Sometimes to run is the brave thing/Sometimes walking out is the one thing/That will find you the right thing”

“Begging till my knees bled/I gave it my all, he gave me nothing at all/Then wondered why I left”

“He’s got my past frozen behind glass/But I’ve got me”

“You know/When it’s time to go/So then you go”

[foolscapper]

Someplace Warmer, Someplace Safer - (How the Wild Things Start Universe)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is not edited/beta'd, so please forgive any rough spots! I'll be cleaning it up and posting it on ao3 at a later time! This also takes place after How the Wild Things Start, and is based on a request sent in by @saintedjack -- thank you!

WARNINGS: PTSD responses, MENTION OF CHILD ABUSE (SEXUAL), please tread carefully if that's hard for you!

In the year of our Lord 2020, Sam Winchester didn't think that Christmas would feel so much less... sore of a spot. Maybe that's because he's practiced a handful of Christmases with Leia and Lilly now and has realized with some clarity that holidays can sometimes be about as good as the number of kids who get excited over it. When it was just him and Dean, it was a coupla beers and memories of little kids who sat in hotel rooms waiting for their parent — singular. Now Lilly is coloring pictures of reindeer and eagerly reminding Dean of what she wants for the hundredth time. ("Yeah, yeah, I got it," Dean grumbles, without even the smallest bit of heat to it, "How could I forget when you drew it on my bedroom wall?") Meanwhile, Leia's fourteen, so the appeal of a 'Santa Claus' isn't really there for her; she and Sam are too alike on that front, having lost whatever magic Christmas would've had when they were very little. But she loves that Lilly loves it. She helps her hang up tinsel and all those basic holiday ornaments around the bunker. When Sam and Dean are out to get the kitsune her dietary needs, she prays to Castiel, makes him trek all the way to Lebanon — just so she can ask him to drive her to the rental box in front of the liquor store for holiday films. Anyway, uh. Sam feels... good. He feels good about it. About Christmas. 

First time in forever, he knows, but things evolve over time, right?

Whatever makes them happy makes him happy, and it doesn't help that Dean's starting to get into a bit of a frantic holiday mood himself when he realizes Cas and Leia rented National Lampoon's Holiday Vacation. With one girl on either side of him, his brother chatters on and on about classics, movies like A Christmas Story and the Grinch, and Sam can only roll his eyes in good humor and sound fondness. It's a good day. He hasn't had a nightmare in days — hasn't slept-walked in almost as long (not that it stops Dean from keeping the front door locked, so Sam can't wander out again and scare the shit out of them). It's the day before Christmas, though, and there's plenty of cereal, boxed mac 'n cheese and canned Chef Boyardee, but absolutely nothing that rightfully belongs on a dinner table for the holidays. "I'll be back; just gonna pick up some stuff," he says, while the three are in the middle of Mr. Grinch, you're a bad banana, Mr. Grinch, with the greasy black peel-. Dean snaps out of the trance that had made him 10-years-old for a moment and looks critically at Sam; Lilly doesn't look away from the television, but Leia's sharp gaze shoots to Sam at the same time as Dean's. Dean says, "You sure you don't want us to go, too?" And Sam waves it off. Waves both of them off, since Leia's trying so hard to judge him under her bangs "I'll be fine. Just hitting the grocery for something that works for tomorrow. Please try not to feed them straight sugar while I'm gone?" "Yes, honey," Dean huffs, but there's some hesitance in the way he turns to look back at the TV. He couldn't really blame him, considering what shitty lucky they had apart. Or, well... considering the guilt that still festers in Dean like old, greenish wounds. Sam knows it's there every time his brother glances at pale scars intersecting on his arms, or when he manages to rouse him from a bad dream, or when Sam spaces out at the dinner table until something startles him to attention. Sam's screwed up, and Dean's still gnawing at his own leg for letting it happen. ... Shit happens. Sam tries not to think about it anymore than he has to, because it's not like the muscle memory ever goes away, nor those phantom smells or those reels of the monster rings. No, no, he's not going to think about it. Because today's a good day. It's a good week. He takes the keys to the truck he's kept to himself, makes a mental note to call Castiel and see if he'll stop by for visiting. The air outside is cold and bitterly unfair to the lungs, but he tugs his jacket tighter around himself and wills the old truck AC to start heating him back up. The drive isn't far, and the people at the place he's driving to know him well enough. He's not sure if that's a good or bad thing, especially now that they see him changed so drastically; he's pretty sure Dean just tells them all he'd gotten deployed somewhere and ended up hurt, or something. Sam doesn't bother figuring out the cover story, because he's not ever going to be in the mood to talk about it with Joey Behind the Counter or Leticia Stocking the Shelves, no matter how much he likes them. The bell to the store rings, they wave him in, ask him about his plans for the holidays, tell him all about their kids — he surprises himself by talking about his own, albeit vaguely, because you never know who is truly safe. And even though he has little to no skill in hearty, holiday feasts, he knows the basics from television: cranberry sauce, turkey, stuffing, eggnog, so on and so on. Despite his complaint to Dean not to overfeed the kids on sweets, he ends up grabbing two boxes of themed cookies, too. It's not until he walks out the front door that he feels something's off. He'd never claim to still have the powers he did at age 22, but — the hairs on his neck stand up, goosebumps running along his arms beneath his thick coat. It's hard to say what even caused it; there's nobody around. He glances uneasily left and right, and then makes a slow, cautious walk toward the parking around the corner. His heart thumps in his chest and his mind plays cruel games with him: what if it's a hunter coming for him? Looking for him and his family, after what happened at their old cabin? It hasn't been that long. "Hello," a little, polite voice chirps from seemingly out of nowhere. Sam nearly leaps out of his skin, teeth snapping together as he turns in a fraction of a second — ready to fight, dropping his grocery bags as his hand reaches around the back of him. (Bright lights, feral howls of pain, blood on dirt and black eyed spectators-) His breath catches at the startled teenager with sandy-blonde hair standing in front of him. He's dressed in clothes he's clearly worn for a long time, the knitting on his gloves and cap frayed. The smell of an alleyway greets Sam belatedly, and shame creeps into his face when he realizes just what he's actually looking at here: some homeless kid whose smile has faded into a look of uncertainty. Wanted a buck, but ended up with some over-sized freak having an episode at him. "S—sorry," Sam chokes out. He's trying not to let himself get pulled under, but the lights have... always been so bright. The kid seems appeased by the way Sam steps back, though, and moves to rather calmly start collecting the fallen goods from the ground; for a moment, Sam wonders if he's just gonna take them for the trouble, but the boy starts putting them back into the brown paper bags they'd come in. "It's fine. I must be scarier than I thought." It's said in such an easy way, and he looks up with a kind, gap-toothed smile. "I was going to ask if you could spare some money, but I can see now that I should have made my presence more obvious." ... That's a way for a teenaged boy to put it. It reminds Sam of a particular angel of Thursday and his straightforward, over-complicated way of talk. With a somewhat forced smile, he bends down to quickly collect what the kid hasn't. "No, no, I'm — I'm good at being on edge. It wasn't you. Sorry for... that." He's not sure how to put it. He has a hard time remembering how to talk to people, sometimes. There's something particularly distracting about this one, though. Maybe it's the fact that he's so youthful, covered in dirt and red in the nose. Looks at him like how Leia had — with the hope that Sam can help him. Or is he just projecting? He pinches the bridge of his nose, smiling tiredly. "What's your name, kid?" The boy says, almost proudly, "Jack." "... Um, well. Jack. I'm Sam. It's good to meet you. I think you deserve something nice for not thinking I'm a total weirdo, so... if you wanna carry a bag to the truck for me, I've got some cookies and dollars to offer you?" It feels kind of demeaning in a way, like he's giving the poor kid some basic task to 'earn' what Sam'll give him. But Jack just nods and walks along side him. "Thanks, Sam," Jack says. He says Sam's name like he's testing out the weight of it, forming it carefully in his mouth. Despite Jack's appearance, he radiates something... well, something. It's warmer than the weather. "Where are you from, Jack?" Sam asks, tilting his chin forward to look down. His voice is softer, more careful. "From everywhere," Jack says, and looks over at Sam. "I honestly don't know. I've just always been... like this." "... Homeless?" Sam offers. Jack cocks his head to the side, gazing ahead of them. "Homeless. Yes." It's not a long walk, so it's not like there's much more to talk about before they reach the old truck. They load up the groceries, and Sam provides one box of cookies (in this case, the box that is less crushed from falling on the asphalt). It feels like a meager kind of offering, all things considered. "Here — I mean, if you like sweets. I bought way too many, so... Um. And — " "I like cookies," Jack says as a matter-of-factly. "Thank you, Sam." Doesn't feel good enough, though. Sam gnaws his lip and feels... some sort of way about all this. Like he's doing something the wrong way, here. Leia and Lilly have ruined him for life. "Where are you heading, anyway? Do you live in town? I've never seen you here before." Jack's already got the box of cookies wrenched open, and he's eating them too fast, a lot like how Sam used to eat his rations when he lived in a cage, in the dark. Sam's already predicting that he's gonna get sick, and he can't really hide the wince as the crumbs start to collect on Jack's old jacket. Jack looks like he's unsure how to answer, not for the first time. "I'm just moving around. I have nowhere to be, as long as it's — " He struggles for the right word. "Safe." "Safe," Sam says. Jack nods with a mouthful. "Shafe," he says. Sams hands twitch nervously at the thought of sending the boy away with his 'rewards'. Whatever the hell cookies constitute as, anyway. It's not safe out there, that's for sure. It's gonna be below freezing for a while in Lebanon, and — He sighs softly. No... No, it's not smart. Not smart to being a stray into a house full of supernatural lore books, weapons, monster children. He would freak out. He'd panic and he'd know where they live, and he could tell anyone with an ear open about where a guy named Sam lives with his odd little family. But... "You want me to drive you somewhere? I mean, there should be a homeless shelter around here somewhere, if you need somewhere a little less... this." He gestures to the world around them, swathed in a fine layer of snow. Jack seems mildly uncertain, a crooked line of uncertainty to his lips. Sam recognizes maybe he looks like he's one-half a serial killer in his plaid, with his weird flinching and nervousness. "You don't have to, but... I don't want you to freeze out here." After a moment, Jack does seem to relent; nobody likes to be cold, and Sam could tell even if he was handling it well, it was not a pleasant experience he wants to endure any longer than he has to. So he nods at last, and Sam nods to the passenger seat. "Climb aboard, then. I think I remember the street and everything; you'll be warm in no time. And, uh. We can get you something better than cookies, actually." "I don't know what can be better than cookies," Jack replies, sliding into the passenger seat, "But I'm willing to consider it." The truck stutters to life, and Sam makes a beeline for the nearest Taco Bell there is. Cheap, but you get a hell of a lot with a little; he and Dean were no stranger to that particular drive-thru back in the day, when Dean was too tired to eat expired food and Sam was too tired to go buy himself a decent salad and sandwich. The Helping Hands Homeless Shelter is a good distance, so Sam learns a few things in-between Jack scarfing down burritos and soft tacos: he's fourteen or fifteen (he thinks?; Sam's mortified by the thought of him being on his own all this time), his mother died when he was born, he's not sure where his father is, and he's always been moving. No grandparents, no uncles or aunts, nobody that he's familiar with. Once the last wrapper is thrown on the floorboard as designated, though, Jack looks uneasy. "... Is this 'a trade'?" Sam glances over, brow furrowed. "A what?" "A trade," Jack reaffirms, and his eyes — glance down, towards Sam's crotch. Sam feels like he's going to puke, his stomach twisting and heart lurching. He almost slams on the brakes then and there, in the middle of the street, but he manages to avoid doing anything so fucking stupid as to scare the kid. Sam and Dean have both had their fair share of close calls growing up — Sam's had to scream at peeping toms through hotel windows, or weird men at gas stations who keep sizing them up while they read magazines, or — But. But they both had rules, and Dean always had an extra eye out on him. The thought of — the implication of it, it makes his blood boil, rushing in his ears. He thinks of Lilly and Leia and — Sam's been quiet too long. So Jack speaks up again. "It's alright. I don't do anything if they don't ask first. If they don't have something to give me," Jack says, confidently, and Sam wants to scream. "No," Sam manages, voice tight. "No, that's not okay. Anyone who asks something like that, they're monsters, do you understand me? They're evil, and you shouldn't trust them. Not for a second." Jack leans back more comfortably in his seat, confused — but glad. Sam's hands are itching for a blade and someone to hunt. A monster in a ring to rip into. He breathes out instead and looks at the road. It doesn't take long before Jack finds himself tired of the quiet, though, and his gaze moves to Sam's wrists, instead. His hands. The sliver of arm that peaks out under his sleeve. "What happened to your hands?" he asks, innocently. Concerned. Sam's shoulders sag, like the kid has gone and popped that balloon full of rage. "... Monsters hurt me, too," he says weakly, because he figures the kid deserves the truth. "A different kind of monster, but monsters all the same." Jack reaches over, and Sam startles at the hand cupping over his damaged knuckles. "I'm sorry," Jack says. "About the monsters." Sam kind of wants to cry, honestly. "Me, too." He was supposed to get a Christmas dinner, in and out of the store, nothing more to it. He was supposed to just give the kid some money and maybe a snack. He's supposed to just drop him off somewhere a little warmer and safer. (Leia looked at him like a hero, once, like he was going to swoop in and save her; Jack isn't looking at him like that, though; he's just a guy giving him a ride and cookies). Sam's phone rings. He doesn't need to look to know it'll say DEAN in white letters on the screen. Just a minute 'til they get to the shelter. (You're not a hero, you barely managed to protect your girls, he reminds himself.) "Sam?" Jack asks. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. (But Leia looks at him like he’s a superhero. A shaking, high, rabid superhero, hopped up on demon blood, with hands so tense and locked, they look like claws in the darkness. And beside her — a crying boy, a few years younger than her. There’s a burn on his leg, a shake of his shoulders. Worst of all, there’s skin sloughed off around him, and it’s only then that Sam realizes the boy looks different than he had an hour before. A shifter? A small, scared shifter. Like Glenda had been.) He pulls over on the side of the road. Reaches into his jacket pocket, retrieves the phone with a shaking hand. When he answers Dean and hears his brother asking nervously what's taking him so long, he can't help but look at Jack. Jack, who is looking at him with an uneasy amount of trust. How he has it, Sam's not fucking sure, but he feels like he has to do this. (He thinks of two little girls, holding hands as they watch Christmas cartoons.) "I — I'm bringing someone back with me," he manages. "His name is Jack, and he — needs a place to stay, for a little while." He does a u-turn, driving toward the bunker as snow begins to fall once again, soft, delicate. Jack looked awed, still looks awed. He looks at Sam like this was destiny. Fate. Something. "I thought so." "... You thought what?" Jack smiles slowly with that warm, gap-toothed smile. "That something about you, it felt like an angel."

[abalonetea]

Just Keep Breathing: Chapter One

I was partnered with @the-dot for the @originalfictionbigbang! Thank you for working with me, Dot! 

Here is the first chapter! I’ve split the first 10k words between four chapters, and will be posting them all in a masterpost in just a moment!

Summary: It’s the height of storm season and everyone in Hi-Banks, Florida is getting ready for the bad weather. It should be a year like any other - but on the tails of a national pandemic, a new disaster strikes. More than one new disasters. So many disasters that Eddie Carver would like to put some of them back, thanks. He’s just a down on his luck guy living in the local trailer park with his boyfriend. He’s not interested in dealing with the revival of an old murder case - which he knows nothing about, thanks -, the storm season of the century, or…zombies?

Yeah. Absolutely not interested in the zombies.

This black-comedy follows the inner workings of a small town as they band together to survive, and the young man - reckless, mean, angry, written off b the big city folk come to look into a cold case - that might hold all of societies survival in his hands.

Forget about society. Eddie’s only interested in keeping his friends alive.

Chapter One – Hi Banks Florida

“ - increased reports of unprecedented aggression all across New York City. This is following in the wake of Mayor Alex Grand’s assault on his wife. These attacks have increased nearly ten fold in the wake of the recent vaccine’s release, prompting many to wonder if the vaccine was released too soon – should more tests have been done? Could this be a side effect of it? We have reached out to the head of the FDA, Doctor - “

The television goes to pure static, a hissing crackle of black and white fuzz. Eddie groans. “Seriously? I was watchin’ that!”

“Guess you ain’t watching it now,” says Carson, draping himself over the back of the couch. He curls an arm around Eddie’s chest, pinning him against the back of the couch. “You should be at work, anyway.”

“Penny don’t got work for me today.”

“Then you should be out working on the truck. I’m sick of walking to the docks.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. He shifts, leaning up and wrapping his own arms around Carson’s neck, tugging until his boyfriend is leaning down enough that Eddie can kiss him. “I can’t fix the truck ‘till we get a part mailed in. Penny let me use the work account.”

“Bullshit,” says Carson. “You just don’t want too.”

“It ain’t bullshit. It’s, uh, truth shit.”

“Wow.” Carson shakes off Eddie’s grip. “You worked hard on that one, huh? Whatever, don’t work on the truck. I’ve got actual work to get too.”

Eddie twists, pulling himself up so he can drape over the back of the couch. “Gonna rain today. Take an extra shirt.”

Carson says, “sure, I’ll put it in the truck so it stays dry. Oh, wait.”

And, okay, so Eddie kind of deserves that one. The truck hasn’t been running for almost a week now. This isn’t the first time that it’s stopped working. Carson bought it straight out of the local junkyard five years back, and it’s pretty much held together with duck tape – literally – and chewing gum – which might be the next step.

Eddie really is waiting on the part to come in.

The problem is that he sort of forgot to order it until yesterday.

Drooping, Eddie makes a disgruntled sound. “I’ll see if I can’t fudge it, okay? Just, I dunno, don’t get hit by lightning. The storm’s supposed to be nasty.”

“Great.” Carson shoves on one boot, then the other. “So we’re going to have no power tonight.”

“I’ll fill the tub.”

“Summer sucks ass.”

“Florida sucks ass,” corrects Eddie.

Carson thinks on it, then bobs his head in agreement. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go with that one.”

“You gonna be home for - “ The television bursts back into being with a crackle of too loud sound. Eddie swears.

The woman on TV reads off, “ - no official links between the two. Gerald Harbrinks has been arrested today for the most bizarre case of armed robbery the county has ever seen, in which he dropped his gun and instead chose to bite the cashier - “

Eddie mutes it. “Sorry. One’a these days we need to get actual cable.”

“Yeah, when toads fly,” says Carson. “You doing dinner?”

Eddie thinks about what they have in the pantry. Not much, but probably enough to throw at least half a meal together. He’s better at cooking and coming up with things than Carson is. “Yeah. You going to be back before dark?”

Carson shrugs. “How should I know? They never tell me anything. I might not even have to stay if it rains.”

“Babe, if it rains, they’re gonna make you stay out of spite, and you know it,” says Eddie, because the guy who runs the docks is kind of an ass.

Carson grunts. “Thanks for the reassurance.”

“No problem.” Eddie shuts the TV off all the way and finally pries himself up off of the couch. “So, dinner, unless we lose power. We’ll have to hit up Red’s. He’s got that grill or whatever.”

He sways his way over to his boyfriend, plasters himself against Carson’s front and schmoozes his way in for a kiss. Carson curls an arm around him for a moment, then makes a face. “Come on, man. I gotta at least get down there before the rain starts or I won’t make shit.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” says Eddie. “Get outta here. Don’t get drowned or nothing.”

* * *

Hi Banks, Florida is the sort of place you’re born into, you slog through, and then you die in. And mostly, the people are okay with that. Why leave a good thing, right? Or maybe it’s more that the people born into Hi Banks just have a hard time getting together the chance to leave.

The trailer park is on the backside of town, filled up with old mobile homes and trailers parked up on cinder blocks. The paths between homes flood any time it rains and Eddie makes a point of sloshing his way through the puddles until the inside of his sneakers are soaked and his stained up jeans are covered in mud. Splash! Slosh! Splat!

The Calloway’s have added a new pick up truck to the collection of cars sitting out front. Eddie would bet it’s like the rest of their vehicles and the engine doesn’t actually roll over. Not that he can say too much on that front, considering his own truck.

If there’s any chance that he can trick the thing into running, he needs another quart of oil and – well, it is his fault that Carson’s going to have to walk home in the rain later, so Eddie figures he’ll pick up a box of swiss rolls while he’s out. Swiss rolls are Carson’s favorite.

Sweets in general are his favorite, but whatever.

So he sloshes his way through the trailer park and out onto the long, main road that cuts through the center of town. If you keep going long enough in one direction, it will take you to the highway. Keep going long enough in the other, you’ll hit the swamps.

There’s just the one commercially owned grocery store in the whole town. The parking lot is mostly empty, which isn’t a surprise considering it’s the middle of a Monday, and also about to cut loose. The wind’s started to pick up and everything, clouds dark and violent overhead. Eddie scurries into the shop, muttering a brief ‘hey’ to Annie Green when he passes her counter and heads towards the back.

Fitz is curled over the meat case muttering under his breath to himself, which is less unusual than it sounds. Eddie opts not to wave at him, and instead just goes for the cake aisle. It’s so picked over that it’s ridiculous. There aren’t any swiss rolls so he grabs the oatmeal cookies instead.

No doubt that the milk and bread aisles are already empty, to go with the alarmingly small amount of paper product. Up at the check out, he asks Anne, “you seen Roy come in yet today? He owes me ten bucks.”

“Nope.” The machine beeps when Anne scans the box of cookies. “Is Ftiz still back at the meat? I swear, he’s been in here for an hour.”

“Yeah. Maybe he’s stocking up on it.”

“Even Fitz isn’t stupid enough to stock up on meat right before we’re due for hurricane season.” Anne holds out her hand and Eddie fishes a crumpled five from his back pocket to pass over. “You talk to him?”

“Nope.”

Anne heaves out a sigh. “Great. Guess I can walk back and deal with it. If he’s drunk - “

“If he’s drunk, call his wife. She’ll have his ass for drinking that much this early in the day.”

Anne snorts. “Yeah, she will.”

Eddie shifts from one foot to the next, peering out the glass front doors. It’s still raining hard outside. “You think this is gonna light up any time soon?”

“Supposed to rain all evening. I’m surprised that they haven’t canceled work at the docks,” says Anne.

“Ugh. Great. Just, double bag them, I guess. I have to walk back in this.”

Anne doubles the bag and Eddie steps back out into the deluge. He’s soaked in a matter of minutes.

* * *

“Fucking Hell!” Eddie shakes himself off as he steps into the trailer. He fumbles around in the dark for the first few minutes, stripping out of his sodden clothes and down to his equally sodden boxers. Still swearing, he drops the bag of soaked oatmeal cookies onto the counter and flips on the light switch for the kitchen.

Nothing happens.

Eddie swears louder.

There’s the sound of something shuffling about from the bedroom. Eddie grabs the natty tea towel off the front of the stove handle and uses it to wipe off his face. “That you, babe?”

No answer. The shuffling sound gets closer. Eddie rolls his eyes and attempts to pat himself dry with the hand towel. It has a mixed amount of success in actually accomplishing anything.

“I got you cookies. They should be dry. Cause of the plastic and stuff?”

Still no answer. Eddie mutters under his breath. Fine, he’ll just have the cookies himself.

He pops open the plastic wrapper and pulls out a handful of them, carrying them over to the couch – where he finds Carson stretched out, massive headphones in, and a blanket pulled down over him.

“What the Hell, man.” Eddie kicks the couch base. “Move your legs.”

Carson grumbles and slides his headphones out. “When did you get back?”

“Like, five minutes ago. I went to get you cakes, but they didn’t have none.” He passes Carson a cookie instead. “You could’ve said something when you came out of the bedroom.”

Carson squints at him. “What are you talking about?”

Something in the bedroom is knocked over. CRASH. Eddie jerks, spinning around and squinting into the dark of the trailer. “So, uh, that’s not you.”

“Of course it ain’t me,” says Carson. He shoves the blanket onto the back of the couch, swings his legs over the cushions, and leverages himself up. There’s a bat by the front door. Eddie grabs it and passes it to Carson, because he’s tiny and Carson’s not.

“Chicken,” mutters Carson, but he doesn’t look thrilled to have to go deal with this. “We got that flashlight in the kitchen?”

“Batteries are dead,” says Eddie.

“Great. Storm season, and we’ve got bad batteries.”

“Pretty sure that’s not a hurricane breaking stuff in our bedroom, babe.”

Carson shoots Eddie an unimpressed look. “No duh.”

They make their way to the little off shooting bedroom, Eddie tucked close to Carson’s back. It’s at least still early enough in the evening that wane, yellow light creeps in through the nearby window. Carson presses a hand to the door, pulls in a deep breath, and shoves it open.

What happens next happens fast: there’s motion from the over turned bedside table. Carson swings with the bat, effectively smashing their lamp to pieces. The neighbor’s fat, orange tabby cat gives an indignant hiss and jumps onto the bed, then out through the nearby busted window. There’s glass all over everything, from the lamp and the window, and rain has blown in from the storm soaking the bed and the table in equal parts. The carpet nearby squishes loudly when Carson takes a step.

“Oh,” says Eddie. “Window’s broke.”

Carson drops the bat onto the ground. “That’s it. We’re going to Red’s.”

[notyetneedcoffee]

No Secrets, Part 4

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader (???)

Warnings: None in this section

Steve loved you and it terrified him.  

The purity of his love for Peggy and the depth of pain he felt over the loss of a life with her ran so deep, it left a gaping wound his enhanced system could not heal. The realization that something happening to you could wound him as deeply practically paralyzed him.  

Had it not been for the effects of the accident. You would have likely never known.

You remembered an old conversation. Steve once told you that the reason he’d been chosen for the experiment was because of who he was, not what he could do. He explained the serum enhanced not just his muscles, not just his physical being, but also who he was.  

“The serum would make worst come out of a bad man and the best come out of a good man.”  

It made you wonder if that’s why Steve’s emotions were so strong, so deep, and so distinct. They were like feeling in primary colors. Bold. Overwhelming.

Talking it through, with or without words, had been important.  

Now you just needed to figure out if you loved Steve enough.  

Even though he kissed you passionately, even though you felt incredible in his arms, even though you loved him, you didn’t know if you loved him as deeply. You just found out how he felt. You just discovered the power you held that could hurt him and more than anything you did not want to hurt him.

He left with your kisses on his lips and knowing that you were not rejecting his deepest desire. It was more than he hoped. It left you feeling both hopeful and frightened.  

The next day a mission sent him to central Africa and you had not been able to talk since. In fact, you had not talked to anyone over the last five days.  It began to drive you mad. You needed to feel normal, be around people. Which is why you were driving down the road, heading into town for a coffee.  

On the edge of town was a little strip mall with a grocery store, a nail salon, a dog groomer, a little hardware store, a teriyaki joint and a drive thru coffee stand. You didn’t even plan on getting out of the car. Just get a latte and feel a little normal.  

‘Shut up, shut up, shut up. You little fucking bitch.’

You looked in the rear-view mirror to see a crappy SUV. The man behind the wheel looked angrier than a wet cat. The woman beside him wept into her hand.

‘Buddy looked so scared. I hate leaving him there. He’s okay. I hate seeing him shake like that.’

‘Screw it. I’m getting the hot stuff. It's so good. Been craving it all day.’

‘Beyonce wouldn’t put up with his shit.’

‘I can’t forget my prescriptions this time.’

‘This is the best song ever.’

The voices of those in cars around you hit you all at once as you drew closer to the intersection. You tried to focus on the road, to shove it all back. Your hands tightened on the steering wheel. Maybe this wasn’t a great idea.  

‘No!’

‘Gonna kill you!’

Your eyes shot to the mirror again where you saw the guy in the SUV grip the woman by the back of the neck, hard. Her cries of fear and pain slammed into your mind.  

‘FUCK!’

The mental scream gave you a split-second warning. Your car smashed into the car in the intersection. The SUV rammed into you. The airbag blew in your face. Everything went fuzzy.  

Dozens of voices all at once battered against you. Your heart raced. You head and face hurt. You couldn’t catch a full breath. As your eyes focused, faces looked through the broken glass at you. You couldn’t tell the difference between their words and their thoughts. So, you stayed in stunned silence.

“Move! Out of the way!” A familiar voice reached your ears.

Sam Wilson pushed aside a man leaning in your car window. His hand touched your head. “Thought I knew this car. What are you doing here?”

“Sam.” You croaked. “Get me outta here.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He stood ‘Bucky is going to lose it.’  

Among the chaos, you tried to focus but couldn’t. So many voices. So much all at once. You covered you face and tried to breathe. A cool metal hand touched the back of your neck. Looking up, you found yourself staring into Bucky’s intense stare.  

“Are you okay?” He leaned over you. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’

“No.” You clutched his arm. “Need out.”

“Back off!” Bucky roared just before ripping the door off the car. His arms came around you and lifted you out of the car. “I got you, Doll. You hurt?”

“Don’t think so.” Your arms wrapped around his neck.

“Move it, Wilson.” Bucky carried you through crowd towards a black truck. ‘Dammit, woman, what are you doing here?’

“I fucked up.” You whined, head spinning. “I don’t feel so good.”

“Sam! Now!” He tucked you into the truck, sliding in beside you and pulling you close. ‘Hold on. We’re almost away from everyone. Damn it. Look at you, Doll.’

After a bit the volume in your head decreased and air filled your lungs again. Physical pain in your head began to register. You touched your left temple. Bucky pulled your hand away, examining your face. ‘Looks worse than it is.’

‘Cap is going to blow his top.’ You heard Sam’s worried voice in your head.

“I’m sorry.” You whined.

“You’re okay, Doll. We’ve got you.” Bucky gave you a tender smile, but his thoughts were more harsh. ‘Got to stop being so rash. You’re gonna kill me one of these days.’

“We’ll be back to your place in a few minutes.” Sam said from the driver’s seat.

“My car... those people...”

“I left them with Hill’s card. She’ll sort out all the details. Don’t worry, nobody was really injured.” Sam explained. “Let’s just get you back.”

You head began to clear a little. Bucky’s worry still enveloped you as much as his arms. ‘Could have been killed. Good thing we were going for lunch. Dollface looked so scared.’

“The guy behind me.” You swallowed. “He was hurting his wife. Wasn’t the first time.”

“In the SUV?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. I got distracted.”

“Hold on.” Sam hit the remote button and called Maria. As they conversed, Bucky’s fingers combed gently through your hair. He reminded himself you were okay, that you were safe.  

“My face hurts.” You mumbled.

“Looks like you knocked your head on the window.” Bucky spoke quietly. “You’ve got a pretty good burn from the airbag too.”  

‘You should have been safe. About had a heart attack when Sam screamed your name.’

“Okay, we’re here.” Sam pulled in the driveway. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah.” You sighed. “I think so. Embarrassed.”

‘Cap is going to be so mad.’ Sam parked the truck in front of the house. He turned in his seat looking at Bucky holding you. ‘Damn. Damn. Damn.’ He opened the door. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

You stepped gingerly to the ground and let Bucky lead you inside. He made sure you were settled you on the sofa before heading to the kitchen for ice. “I’m so glad you guys were there.” You put your head back. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well, we never did get lunch. So, I’m raiding the cupboards.” Sam announced.  

You smiled, even though it hurt. “Make me something too?”

“No problem.” Sam started looking in the fridge.  

“Here, Doll.” Bucky lowered down beside you, gently touching an ice pack to your face. ‘Don’t argue, just let me take of you.’

‘Scooby dooby doo, where are you?’ Sam sang to himself from the kitchen. You smiled.

‘Huh?’ Bucky scowled.

“Sam,” you whispered. Bucky nodded, his shifted examining the burn from the airbag.

‘Looks like it stings. Still beautiful, though. Thank god she didn’t hit the steering wheel.’ Bucky’s eyes intensely examined your face. ‘Got to keep her safe.’

‘Cap should have told him before he left.’ Sam’s thoughts reached you. You froze. Steve told Sam about his feelings for you, but not Bucky. Your eyes locked with Sam. ‘I don’t know how this works. I don’t know if you can hear me, but Cap didn’t tell Bucky how he feels about you. Don’t break his heart.’

You didn’t know which ‘him’ Sam meant, but you didn’t want to hurt either of them. Steve and Bucky were your friends. You loved them both, felt completely comfortable with them. You didn’t want either of them hurt, ever.

‘She’d be so pissed to know how much I just want to lock her away and keep her safe. Keep her here, where I can watch over her.’ Bucky’s thoughts caused a band of emotion to tighten around your chest. His fingers traced your face. ‘You so special, Doll. Love you too much too let anything happen to you.’

“I’m okay, Buck.” You said finally.

“You shouldn’t have left the house.” He scowled.

“I know. You’re right.”

“Sam.” Bucky’s voice rose a little. “Remember today’s date. She actually said I’m right.”

“That’s one for the books.” Sam laughed. “Will that jaw of yours be okay if I whip up some burgers?”

“You sure you want to be around me that long?” You picked at the white powder covering your shirt.

“Ain’t worried about the stupid shit bouncing around in my head.” Sam laughed. “You want cheese?”

“Of course.” Bucky snorted. “Don’t worry about it, Doll. Neither of us wanted you to be sent out here anyway.” He gave you one of his charming smiles. ‘I’d already tell you anything you wanted to know. I’d never hide from you.’

“I’m going to get out of this.” You stood up. “The airbag dust is itchy.”

Disappearing into the bedroom, you were so thankful they couldn’t hear the confused and panic laced thoughts in your head. Steve didn’t talk to Bucky about the feeling he’d been harboring. What were you going to do now?

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[chuckie101123]

The Cult of Carnage

“I figured they were all insane, like the cops did. The marks they left behind, the carvings, it all pointed to a satanistic murder cult. The bodies they left behind were all mutilated to the point that we needed dna testing to find out what kind of animal it was from. We couldn't use size because when they started a mutilation fest, everyone joined in. And from the bodily fluids they left behind, it seemed they enjoyed an orgy along with it. None of us even considered the possibility...

The cops couldn’t get close to them, ever. They were all too loyal to their cause. They couldn’t find a snitch, and they couldn’t plant one of their own. Eventually, one of them came up with the bright idea to call me up. I was a cop, once. Had retired six years before I got the call, saying they needed help with one last case. I was bored, figured why the hell not, and drove in the next morning. When I entered, I entered into a madhouse that was nothing like the station I had left. It seemed like everyone and their brother was there, everyone shouting and running around at once. Then they caught a glimpse of me, and all of a sudden, it was silent. The chief poked his head out of his office to see what caused the sudden change, and paled when he saw me.

I suppose I should explain. Before I left and retired, I had a reputation around the station. Put simply, I was violent and unorthodox. I didn’t care about social niceties much, always thought of them as too frustrating to deal with. As such, I came across more often than not as a dick. Pissed a lot of people off with my carefree attitude too, a lot of powerful people. Eventually some of them tried to get me fired on accounts of illegal activities. No one could get the charges to stick. See I was a well-known asshole, but I was good at my job. I was violent, but never more violent than was legal. I wasn’t racist, wasn’t greedy, and was always ready to help out someone in need. (Hey, I told you, I didn’t care about social niceties, that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t help out a kid who’s car broke down on the side of the road.) 

Anyway, when the brass up top couldn’t bring me down the legal way, a few of the more immoral ones tried to take me down the hard way. I sent every one of their men to the hospital with varying injuries, six of whom are still in a coma and twelve more who have to be fed with a straw. Again, the brass tried to get me fired for excessive violent behavior, but as it was in self-defense, the charges wouldn’t stick. Over the next three years, I personally put twenty six of those corrupt bastards behind bars. I doubt I got all of them, but no one has messed with me since.

Anyway, back to the station. So the chief sees me, pales like he just shit out all his blood, and rushes to greet me. Turns out, I recognize the dude. The guy was just a deputy when I left, must’ve done well for himself to have gotten his title. I already didn’t like him, but I did my best to keep myself in check, as he already looked terrified enough. After greetings, he took me to his office and explained the situation. 

Forty-two occurrences in the last two months, all involving what looked like violent blood-baths and massive orgies between around thirty or so members. No member had been caught, no DNA matches, nothing. Nothing, except, a symbol, always placed in the very center of the presumably very exciting events. The symbol was that of a crescent moon lying point side down on top of a sun with a half circle taken out of the side closest to the moon, and there was a four-point star lying in the gap between the two, almost like it was being sheltered or protected somehow.

No evidence, no witnesses, and no leads would make for a difficult case, and I told him as such. In response, he placed a picture on the desk in front of me, and explained that the woman shown was believed to have something to do with it. I recognized her, Alicia Cortez. She was a nice girl, late twenties, who worked in a grocery store in the downtown area. I had caught her out late one night in the pouring rain and offered a ride. On the way to her home, I got to know her a little better. 

She grew up in New Jersey with an abusive father and a junkie mother. She told me that at first, she seemed like she was on a path that would lead her to follow in her mother’s footsteps, using dangerous and powerful substances to fill the ache inside her. Thankfully, a kid helped her see just how far she had fallen, and she packed up and moved to our town that same week. I wanted to ask her more, but by the time I figured out how to phrase the question and opened my mouth, we had already arrived at her house. She thanked me quickly, and ran inside to escape the rain. It seemed strange, but I shrugged it off and drove home. That was eighteen months ago, two months before I got the call.

Once I saw the picture, I started to wonder if I shouldn’t have pressed further. Deputy O’Ryan, or now, Chief O’Ryan, told me that the incidents had started soon after she arrived in town. They said her neighbors had reported strange sounds coming from her apartment, but every time police arrived, the sounds had stopped and no evidence to anything resembling what the neighbors heard could be found. I told the chief I’d look into it, and went home.

Few weeks later, I “ran into” her at the grocery store where she worked at and asked her if she’d like to join me for lunch. As we talked, I noticed she was very pleasant. Not “uninterested in the conversation”, but more mischievous “What do you think you know” pleasant. Eventually, our conversation moved onto her past again. I tried to press gently on what made her change her life around. She smiled in triumph, and even though the damage was already done, I tried to back peddle. It didn’t work. Still though, she answered my questions. 

She explained that the child that changed her life introduced her to his religion, an unorthodox and still recently established Carnagism. She went on further to vaguely explain how the god they worshiped, Carnage, was not quite how the name suggested. She was not evil, or violent, nor did she encourage such traits in her followers. Instead, she encouraged freedom in its truest form. No prejudice, no discrimination, no worries. “Does that include no laws?” I remember asking. Her only answer was a smirk. It was clear to me that I wouldn’t get an answer to that question, so I tried to change topic, asking instead what her religion had done to help her life? After all, if it was appealing enough to get her to pack up and move so quickly, surely the benefits must be amazing? Rather than answer, she instead invited me to her next worshiping session to find out for myself.

And so began my dilemma, do I agree and join her for what might be my own murder, mutilation, and possibly corpse-rape, or refuse and give up the case? For my stubborn, dumb ass self, their was only one option. I accepted.

Fast forward two days, and I find myself in the woods, hand in hand with over seventy other people as we skip around a massive bonfire in a clearing in the woods I swear wasn’t there the day before. All of us are buck-ass naked, covered in paint, mud, and blood from the desecrated corpses of hundreds of birds, squirrels, rabbits, foxes, and field rats. I realized why the bodies were so hard to identify: because these cultists used nearly every part of the corpse, beyond what a normal hunter would. The feathers, each indivual hair, each bone, brain, musclefiber, and organ, all used in their rituals. We fed on the meat and organs, and dressed ourselves in the rest, excluding the pelvic bones of all the females. Those were tossed into the fire we all skipped around, shrieking, laughing, and chanting as we summoned what I had assumed to be another made up god.

I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

As we shrieked and sang and chanted in a strange language I could never quite catch, the fire suddenly exploded outward, the flames rushing across our bodies, touching but never burning. A few of the more recent recruits like myself shrieked and tried to recoil in fear, but we were stopped by the tight grips of the members on either side of us. We tried fighting back until we realized we weren’t hurt by the flames, and we looked to the flames first in wonder and curiosity before our expressions turned to those of fear and wonder. For there, before our very eyes stood figures in the flames of every hue and color. Beings of pure fire, beautiful and proud, took their steps across the edge of the fire towards the cultists.

I stared in wonder at the sight before me, these beautiful and terrifying beings, as one by one they stood in front of a cultist. For simplicity's sake, let’s call them elementals. No two elementals were the same, some didn’t even look human, despite their flaming appearance. Some had what looked like animal heads, others had appendages added and subtracted in weird ways (one had feet for arms and arms for legs and a tail attached to the back of their neck), a few just seemed like floating flames with no features of any kind, and others still just were. They were like the air above hot tarmac, you could see the shimmer and could feel the heat but could see no definite features.

It took me a moment before I realized one of the elementals had stopped before me. Whereas the other elementals were larger, almost adult sized or even bigger, mine was tiny like a fairy might be. She floated in the air before my face, gazing intently at me until I looked at her, and then she smiled. Not the forced smile I was used to seeing, nor the pity smile a mother might show a child who brandishes a mud pie in his hands, nor even the full grin you’d see on that very child’s face. No, the elemental before me smiled a gentle smile, full of only kindness and love, as if she were a mother smiling at a child who returned home after losing their way. Her smile made me feel safe, and warm, like everything was going to be okay.

I couldn’t help it, and I’m not afraid to admit it. I cried. I wanted so badly to apologize to her and thank her and welcome her to this hellish world. So many emotions and needs arose within me at the sight of her gentle smile that I just collapsed in joy and grief and anger. Every suppressed memory, every lost moment I’ve ever had came rushing to my mind. I relived my horrible childhood life, suffering every beating my father gave me, breaking as my mother screamed that I was worthless and would never amount to anything. I relived all those painstaking study sessions, trying to do meet their expectations, but also trying to meet my own. I relived my old friendships, all my romantic relationships, every argument, every peaceful or proud moment. I relived my fistfight with my father and my last argument with my mother before they both died. I remembered every day I’ve ever had, and relived each as if they were occurring at that very moment all at once. And then I relived more recent days. Peaceful walks in the park after retiring, kind conversations I had with people around my neighborhood, excited grins from kids waving to me as I passed. I relived my conversations with Alicia about the goddess she worshipped, Carnage was not a god of violence and destruction, but of chaos and freedom.

And I understood. Carnage was not a goddess of lawlessness. She did not encourage the mutilations of animals for fun, but to teach the value of each individual piece. Carnage represented a peaceful freedom, without corruption to spoil it. Hatred, fear, joy, worry, her followers were free to experience all without judgement. They were not condemned for who they loved, nor were they discouraged from loving as much as they could as often as they could. With Carnage, the strange or different weren’t just permitted as they were everywhere else. They were accepted. There weren’t any personal definitions or social cliques, They just were, free to be as passionate and loving as they desired to be.

With that realization, the memories slowed to a trickle, the last few days before the ritual playing softly and slowly until I caught up with the present. When I did, I noticed three things. One, I was kneeling on the floor with my head in my hands, tears still flowing gently down my cheeks as my nose ran. Two, the small elemental was beside me, her tiny hand rest gently on my cheek, flames licking at the stubble from my beard. Three, she wasn’t alone. 

In front of me kneeled another elemental, adult size this time, though still female. She faced me with her hands on my shoulders, holding me as I sobbed. When I had finally stopped crying enough to see her clearly, I saw her face. She was even more beautiful than all the rest, and while the others looked like they were made from the flames, she looked like the flames were made from her. Every feature was more defined, from her angled, kind eyes to her soft, supple lips to her delicate, nimble fingers and toes. She was just as nude as the rest of us, but it was not her body that held my attention, but her eyes. For in them I saw the history of mankind, all the fury and bloodlust but also the love and compassion. And those kind yet terrible eyes looked at me with an emotion I couldn’t quite place.

“You remember,” she said, not a question but as a statement. Even so, I nodded in answer. “Do you know who I am?” I shook my head. “I am the goddess you have worshiped this night. I am Carnage.”

“Hi...” I said in a small voice, making her smile.

“You have a way with words, child,” she teased.

“Sorry,” I apologized, looking down in shame.

“Do not apologize, young one,” she whispered, lifting my head. “It is a part of who you are, what makes you unique.”

She started to rise, lifting me up with her. She smiled at me once more before turning to see the other cultists. She held herself up tall as she made her way back to the bonfire, no longer roaring as it had been. Those she passed bowed, but did not kneel. When she reached the edge of the fire, she stopped and turned to once again face me.

“Tonight, my children, we celebrate! For we have helped your new brother remember!” she exclaimed to the crowd, as a roar of joy rose up from the other cultists. “Tomorrow, we celebrate once again, for I have returned to this beautiful and terrible world! Tomorrow, we will right was has been wronged, and rebirth the ugliness of the Allmother with her former beauty!”

“TILL THE DAWN!!!” a roar rose from the cultists, as if a battle cry had sung.

That night, I danced with my brothers and sisters, loved them as only I could, ate as I wished, and celebrated the return of Carnage.