#damien i love your red hair and i’m so glad they kept it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

batarangsoundsdumb · 4 years ago

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guess fucking what? my inbox is so fucking full right now i'm unloading all of this shit in one post.

For the 11th gotham memes: gothamites react to bruce being jacked in a tiktok he made with kids, like super yoked, ripped as hell

fucking hilarious thanks. i think i did it in one meme post, but i genuinely don't remember which one

i dunno which of the batfam would do this but one time i was sleeping over at a friends house and ended up on the floor bc the bed was so very small and i just stayed there because the rug was soft

that's a drunk jason move i don't know what to tell you

tim and jason are "i listen to pop punk" solidarity. whenever jason highjacks the batmobile theyll go on long ass car rides blaring mcr and paramore and then never talk about it again

as they should!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! tim: no jason it's my turn using the aux cord i gotta put on my jams jason: don't you dare put on weird shit tim: don't worry, you're gonna love this *plays fearless (taylor's version)

hear me out hear me out, red hood stans 🤝 nightwing stans t h i g h s

holy shit yes.

SNL au: Bruce breaks character when pretending to superman and says something like "I'm not superman! You've seen his gps!! It's from 2001!!!" @sabeanybabe

superman flies past the snl building the next day just to say 'actually it's from 2005, i'm not a heathen'

does your back hurt from carrying the batfam fandom

it hurts more from the exotic rock collection i keep in my backpack, but thanks for the concern.

I love your posts by why would you always leave the best parts in the tags?

as a treat for the people that check the tags ;) (and also because i'm committed to the short post aesthetic)

somehow your playlist was everything i never knew i needed. i mean it. this is my new favorite playlist.

and don't you dare get a new favourite playlist!

babe ur stoner tim playlist is exactly too perfect, earth is literally blessed by ur existence

babe thanks so much! i love my stoner tim playlist because it's just my usual playlist but people think it's an artistic choice that i put taylor swift and britney spears in there, when it's just what i unironically like listening to

JANDKSKDK BILLY RAY CYRUS ON THE STONER TIM PLAYLIST I LOVE IT IT

again it's not even an ironic choice, i know every single word and i genuinely like the song

The last chapter of Fundamentals of Casework has me crying at work. Thanks I love it @dudelookitsalesbian

oh babe, i'm sorry, but also, not sorry i love chapter 4 so much it's my lovechild with the 'mental illness' tag

soooo....stumbled on your tumblr by some stroke of fate??? read your DC fanfic first. which is PHENOMENAL btw. then found all the batmemes; the funniest thing EVER bc everyone forgets about regular old gothamites. kept scrolling and your blog pops up as recommended. clicked on the ao3 for shits and giggles and waddaya know?!?!? it's YOU!!! you're LEGEND!!!! ever seen that meme? it's a video of a cat that got into a baseball field and the two announcers get really invested in his escape attempt and start giving a play by play of the cat instead of the game. memeable moment: "GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!"

i seriously think about this ask every single day and it's so fucking funny to me that i've never seen the meme you're referencing, but i still find myself going 'GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!' whenever i see something funny. but wow i'm glad you liked this steaming pile of garbage

Fav dc character overall? And fav batfamily character?

don't ask me to pick between the loves of my life, but i can tell you i've cried about every single batfamily member and also wally west (my beloved)

What's your opinion on fans having a problem with batfam being "too big"? And some even claim that batfam is just "Bruce Alfred Dick Damian" and the rest of them are just "friends and allies" (source: reddit) Personally, I like batfam because of this reason but idk

stupid. a family can never be too big. i'm not that big a fan of like huge batfam stuff with everybody from every single universe, because as much as it's funny for bruce to have like 30 kids, it just feels a little too OOC for me.

This is the best tag I've seen involving the batfam, thanks for thinking of it

This is canon now @nctxrejects

lmao yeah i think at that point alfred has had to sit through like at least a dozen coming out talks and just has a pride flag collection in the attic that he pulls out whenever a kid comes out

idk why batfam hits different as compared to any other superhero family

bc it's found family and usually the other superhero families are almost all genetically related in one way or another

I don't know if you watch the umbrella academy but I saw your last post about batcest and saw the similarities. But the thing is (although I think it's weird) in TUA, they addressed it by saying "they were raised as weapons, not siblings" or something along those lines, which is simply not the case with batfam.

yeah i watched tua but i also thought it was ridiculous and they still treated each other as siblings so i didn't like the luthor/allison thing, and am glad they stopped doing that shit bc it fucking sucked.

Hot take: Batcest shippers are the same people who believe adopted siblings are not actual siblings

smoking hot take: batcest shippers are the people who watch 'my sister got stuck in the washing machine' porn

Duke was adopted by Bruce?

not technically no, but do i, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb, look like i care?

True story but I had to change my freaking name because it used to be "Damien" and most people would go "OH LIKE DAMIAN WAYNE" like please I'm just tryna live

true story, but i don't actually think of damian when i hear the name damian, literally the first thing that pops up is damian darkh like bruh what?

apparently dc comics company supported comic stores by giving out new titles and stuff during the beginning of the pandemic to help them run and I just think that's wholesome

ah yeah that's so fucking cool, still don't like dc, the company, because this world is a capitalist hellhole and we're all owned by warner brothers or disney with no in between.

ayo looking at tumblr head canons and finding out bruce is actually a terrible father is a punch in the gut

lmao yes, in like 50% of comics bruce is a terrible father and it gives me whiplash

oooh I just saw the jason todd vs winter soldier post and the real question is: batman vs iron man

while iron man has like hundreds of cases of armor, batman could throw out an emp and have the guy dropping out of the sky in 2 seconds.

dickfast = fastdick = quickdick = quickie

magnum hot take

hey bata(?) just thought I'd let you know I have copied the obnoxious emoji and Billy Ray post for use on simping men going forth

thank you 😘🌷 (@spacebarsidecar)

why would you do that to your followers???? i get why i did it, but why would you???

what is scarecrow made the nightwing funko pop himself, like those diy-ers that paint over other ones

oh god no, horrible take, horrible take, that's a disgusting thought oh no

I see your HC that Bruce and Oliver fucked and raise you this: Dick and Roy ALSO fucked

yes they did and it was a horrible moment for jason to find out dick has fucked both of his best friends

"at this rate bruce adds like 1 child to his family every decade or so" Duke is introduced in 2013, Damian as Damian, not as an unnamed child, in 2006. And he is already 14 years old, Robins rarely remain Robins after 16 😬 It looks like a new Robin and Batkid will appear in a couple of years

i mean i can't wait? but somebody will probably die first tho, we're due for another major character death. my money's on either cass or duke this time.

BRO you're so right all of your Bruce's ex headcanons are amazing but they aren't ships, that's kinda wild. Like I don't want any peeks into how their relationship was I just want to see everyone make fun of them

lmao YES it's just i love bruce being a slut, like good for him.

I am in love with your posts your honour thank you

omg thanks are we like,, gonna kiss now?

The justice league needs to have a meeting to discuss how many of their members/partners have slept with bruce. Because through a combination of cannon & fannon (if DC wasn’t homophobic) we have AT LEAST: 1) clark 2) lois 3) oliver 4) dinah 5) john

Thats not counting villains or random civilians @dudelookitsalesbian

yes yes yes, they'll have a yearly meeting about how many of their collective exes could be out for revenge and batman's list just keeps getting longer.

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

and what about it?

when steph's fighting livewire and she zaps her with lighting and nothing happens and then they both just. stand there awkwardly for a second and talk. yeah i couldn't stop laughing at that batgirl steph is the BEST

oh yeah that was fucking hilarious and i think it would be so cool and sexy of dc to give steph a little comic series,,, as a treat

Hi I absolutely adore all of yours "Bruce and Oliver very badly pretending they didn't fuck each other" memes

lmao i do too

I need you to know that “Bruce Wayne had frosted tips” is one of my favorite Bruce takes of all time it’s so galaxy brained. you’re right and you should say it

he also painted his hair blonde once when he was travelling and in conclusion, this is why he's being blackmailed by the gotham gazette.

you know my thing about gordon being branded as the only good cop in gotham is its a load of shit like arguably he's a good person and not working to screw people over or anything but the fact that he also works w. batman makes him a shit cop. like yea batman is better than the mob but its still illegal its still an abuse of power he just not making bank

babe, all cops are bad cops. (but yeah youre absolutely right, working with vigilantes makes you a shit cop, but also working against vigilantes just makes you an asshole cop yanno?)

ruh roh i think i’m about to add “so not yeehaw” every time i don’t like something

that's a very good vocabulary upgrade

somehow i feel like steph already knew. like babs obviously knew but i feel like bruce got high/drunk in front of steph and started telling his boarding school stories and steph was just like “oh you fucked up i’m never gonna forget this”

steph and bruce have weird uncle/rebellious niece dynamic and they just hang out sometimes and bruce will be like 'i once broke my arm when i tripped over a hedge when i was drunk so oliver drove me to the hospital on an electric scooter' and steph will just have to sit there with that knowledge in her head.

Hello I just wanted to tell you you are So right in all your steph opinions bc she is, in fact amazing and I think that's very sexy of you. Ps. Your Bruce/Oliver fic is hilarious

babe, thank you so much and yes steph is amazing and i love her and she deserves the world and she's the best member of the batfam hands down. also thanks

In Supersons we see a couple of kids that are implied to be Damian and Jon's children and the boy has laser eyes and can fly, so I asume he's not adopted. The girl, who calls Bruce grandpa, can also fly, btw. So it's canon (probably by accident) that Jon can have kids and he must have married one of Bruce's kids. (I'm hoping for Damian, mostly because any other of his children would be waaaaaaaaaaaaay too old.) @artemisa97

lmao that was probably an accident seeing as jon is a 17 year old superhero in the year 3000 (by the jonas brothers)

You know, I'm a die hard fan of your memes, but I gotta say one thing: if Gothamites actually took gas mask everywhere with them, then the Scarecrow would just be a weird dude in a weird costume, and not a villain oh so scary. DC really should just takes notes from you.

bold of you to assume there's no gothamite anti-maskers

How does it feel being the funniest person on this app?

horrible, next question.

I can't listen to Green Day or Billy Joel without thinking of your post about how Bruce got arrested at a Billy Joel concert @nightwings-kid

yeah that's your mistake, i on the other hand can't enjoy billy joel without thinking about the glee rendition of 'uptown girl'

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

superman: so what do you do in your free time? batman, thinking about the superman fanfiction he's writing on the batcomputer: i have no free time

bruce and oliver be like boyfriends to co-workers 401k (do the justice leagues get 401ks??? not that bruce and ollie would need them, but-)

lmao yes just 400 thousand words of bruce realising 'oh dip oliver is such a fucking dumbass' (also i don't know what a 401 k is but i assume they don't?)

Gothamites would totally boo superman as he saves Gotham while batman is out. @meenje

he's like 'okay think about that next time you want to be saved from an alien octopus'

I just took long break from dc comics and I come back to see ric grayson ??

i think it's very cool and sexy of dc to see dick and just think 'you know what? let's just give him a traumatic brain injury' and then didn't develop his character in any real way

SPEAKING OF RIC GRAYSON, gothamites making confused memes out of ric grayson is much needed

'dick grayson is my taxi driver? can anyone explain what the fuck happened he looks like an italian plumber?'

i hate to say it but batfam are def "marvel characters" in that sense they are characters who are human but become superheroes unlike most dc characters who are gods trying to be human maybe this is why I like batfam

fair enough

#this is only like half of it #but at least you can get like a few answers #yanno fuck it #bataranswers #ask #asks #anon

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archangelsquill · 3 years ago

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to hell and back || damien darkblood x reader

pairing: damien darkblood x partner reader (gn, no y/n)

fandom: invincible

word count: 1448

summary: after omni-man flees earth and things begin to settle down, cecil feels he owes you -- the demon detective’s partner in solving crime -- a favor.

warnings: none

a/n: a sequel to this. darkblood deserves better, and by the gods, i’m giving it to him! enjoy, my fellow simps.

———

“If anything happens to them, on your head it will be, Cecil!”

Those were the final words of the demon as the pits of hell called him home, and as Cecil met his gaze, he knew it was no threat. It was a promise, and though he considered himself a bastard, Cecil saw no need to keep you in danger. He knew without Darkblood around, you were a target for Nolan. He’d already had security detail on you, but against Omni-Man, he knew it was useless. If he ever decided he wanted you dead, there’d be nothing stopping him.

Then, if Cecil was lucky (or maybe unlucky) to stay out of the warpath, he’d have Darkblood breathing down his neck, even with such distance between this world and his.

Sending him back to Hell wasn’t something Cecil wanted to do. It was a necessity. He owed him big time for that, and he’d start with keeping you off Nolan’s radar.

The official report was that you’d gone to stay with an imaginary Aunt Sue, somewhere in the Dakotas, but the reality was you were to be kept in the Global Defense Agency Headquarters -- well hidden, out of sight, and away from Nolan Grayson.

No one told you a thing. You’d been in your apartment, waiting for Damien to show up with those coffees he’d promised. Evidence, photos, and papers of theories and notes were scattered around the small space, occupying every inch of surface area, as you paced, a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach growing stronger and stronger the longer your demon detective was away. Something was wrong, and as Cecil Stedman appeared suddenly before you, making you jump out of your skin, you knew for sure.

“You’re the demon’s partner, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me. I guess you’re Cecil.”

“You guess right. You need to come with us.”

“Why?”

“You’re not safe anymore.”

“What?”

“I can’t answer your questions now. Pack a bag. You won’t be coming back for a while.”

You didn’t argue. You didn’t have a choice.

The Global Defense Agency took care of your monthly expenses while you were gone, as if that made any of this less scary or confusing. All you’d been told was Damien was back in Hell, Cecil put him there, and you were in danger.

No one told you much else. Cecil had acted civil toward you -- kind, even -- but it didn’t help. Damien was gone, it was Cecil’s fault, and life may never be normal again.

All because you two asked questions.

Because you wanted the truth.

And you both had paid the price: freedom.

Meanwhile, Omni-Man roamed free, ready to kill again.

You lost count of how long you’d been at GDA HQ when Nolan finally struck.

Initially, you’d been barred from the control room, but Cecil let you choose to watch the chaos or stay blind to it.

You choose not to watch. No one needed you to be in the room when all of the ruin, disaster, and chaos you and Damien knew would happen happened. Based on what Cecil told you after, you were glad you decided to stay out of it.

All of those innocent people, now dead. All of that destruction. All of that carnage, and for what? Omni-Man had fled.

It was for nothing.

And Debbie…

You’d offered as much comfort as you could. You knew how it felt to lose a loved one (it took all you had not to look pointedly at Cecil when you told her that) and the woman needed someone to lean on. Someone not quite so cold as Cecil.

And he’d watched you. Despite everything, you comforted Debbie and Mark, putting on a brave face as if you haven’t lost everything, too. Cecil knows you’re still hurting -- why wouldn’t you be?

Cecil was many things, and a man who paid his debts was absolutely one of them.

He’d been searching since he put Darkblood back in Hell for it: the spell to undo what he did. To summon him back. His plan was always to bring him back, if such a thing existed. He’d had his people looking for months with no luck, and he’d already given you the all clear to go home, with the promise your rent and utilities were paid for until you could get back on your feet.

Yeah. Right. How the fuck do you do that? Your partner -- not only in profession but your partner -- was gone, your office had been trashed, and your apartment felt so empty it was somehow suffocating.

For weeks after you’d returned, you’d laid on the couch, staring at the ceiling, jumping at any change in the temperature, hoping one day you’d look up and see him, only to find it was the apartment complex’s shitty circulation.

The news talked about things going back to normal, yet normal sounded like a foreign language now. How was the world supposed to be any kind of normal again?

Cecil made a few visits to check on you, but you regarded him with coldness that could rival that of Damien’s. He couldn’t blame you.

You’d lost track of the days when the sigh that escaped your lips was accompanied by a small fog. You froze, sitting up from your temporary home on the couch before exhaling again. Just to be sure.

And there it was again: the small visage of your breath indicating the decrease in temperature you’d been ignoring out of lost hope.

“Damien…?”

“Yes, amare?” the gruff baritone was music to your ears as you turned toward your kitchen. There he was: red, large, and intimidating -- yet that soft look in his gaze remained, as if no time at all had passed.

“Damien!” you leapt over the couch, nearly tumbling to the ground before two strong arms grab you, pulling you into the warmest yet coldest bear hug you’ve ever gotten.

“Sorry for delay. Had to...speak with Cecil...” he rumbles, clawed hand carding through your hair, “Need to be ‘debriefed’ but...had to see you.”

“I can tell you what you missed.” you mumble, burying your face in his arms. He pulls you tighter still, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Later,” he says.

And for a moment -- how long, you’re not sure -- you both just sit there on the living room floor, holding each other in a silent, loving embrace. Tears stream down your face, stinging from the cold emanating from Damien. His hand moves to brush them away, and the contact makes you cry more. You missed him. It had been so long.

After what felt like forever, you part -- just enough to look at each other. He, of course, looks no different. Demons didn’t age like humans did. You, however, probably look like shit. You hadn’t looked in a mirror in forever, but you knew your hair was much longer. You hadn’t bothered to get it cut in...how long had it been? It wasn’t like you could’ve gotten it cut, anyway. The city had been rebuilding, and getting anywhere was...well, hell.

“Beautiful as the day I lost you,” he says, and your tears well up again.

“I know I look like shit, Damien,” you say, trying to laugh off the sudden absence of your grief. He smiles slightly -- a rare sight.

“To me you look like heaven, amare,” he replies.

Amare. His nickname for you. You think its Latin, but you’ve never looked into what it means. You never asked, either, assuming he’d just tell you one day.

But you almost lost him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look into it after he was gone, and now that he was here again….you decide to ask.

“You’ve called me that since we became partners. What does it mean?”

“Supposed to be a detective.” he replies. His own attempt at a joke, you muse. You’re in no mood for it.

“Damien, please.”

He looks at you fondly, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Love. It means love.”

You should’ve figured, yet you find yourself crying again, and his arms wrap tighter around you in a protective, loving embrace.

There was more to be said between you two. You both know it. What happened to Damien in Hell? How did everything with Nolan go down here? Now that Cecil knew how to banish and summon Damien as he pleased, what would become of your demon detective?

All need answers. Resolutions.

But not now.

Now was the time for healing: for the world, for humanity, and for you and your demon in that tiny apartment.

You had him back, and though so much hangs in the air, that was enough.

#damien darkblood x reader #damien darkblood #damien darkblood/reader #clancy brown x reader #I HAVEN'T POSTED IN SO LONG AND I AM SO SORRY

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criminalmindzjunkie · 4 years ago

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I Carry Your Heart With Me (Part One)

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Summary: Spencer and the reader are reunited for the first time in fifteen years.

A/N: Very excited to get the ball rolling on this one. I hope you all enjoy it! Message me if you would like to be added to the taglist.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 4.5k

“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” Damien mutters from the passenger seat, his icy blue eyes wide with fright. He pulls his gaze away just long enough to point at a lone cow grazing to the left of the road. “Look! That cow is just like… standing there. No fence around him or anything. What’s stopping him from stampeding into us the second we get out of this car?”

Damien sounds so genuinely horrified that you almost feel bad for laughing. Almost.

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, Dee. Besides, that cow didn’t even look up when we drove past. We’re not even on its radar.”

“Oh, yeah? Ever heard of a little thing called mad cow disease?” Damien persists, in typical dramatic flair. You roll your eyes at him and he curses underneath his breath. “You know, when I agreed to go with you to this wedding, I pictured something more akin to a five-star resort with a minibar and a heated pool. Not rogue livestock and shitty cellphone reception.”

“You didn’t agree to anything – you practically begged me to take you with me.”

Damien waves his hand, dismissive, his eyes still roaming over the pasture. “Because I wanted an excuse to take a week off work. This is not the controlled environment I expected.”

“If you don’t quit complaining, I won’t hesitate to push you out of the car and leave you here with the cow,” you retort. In your periphery you’re able to make out Damien raising his middle finger to you. Rude.

You chuckle and fix your attention back on the dirt road. You’re driving almost painfully slowly, because the very idea of having to pay extra for damages to this already astronomically expensive rental car makes you feel nauseated. Despite your efforts, the car is covered entirely in dust. Its once pristine, white paint job has transformed into a muddy color.

There goes my deposit.

You shake your head at the thought. You had more pressing matters to concern yourself with; i.e., the fact that you were approximately five minutes away from coming face to face with the one person you swore you’d never speak to again. Two months seemed like ample time to prepare yourself in theory, but now that it is no longer some far-off thing, you know that your attempts at preparing yourself were in vain. With each day you crossed off the calendar leading to your departure date, your anxiety grew and grew until you worried your poor heart would give out under the stress. Getting onto the plane bound for Montana felt like the proverbial nail in the coffin, and a hefty dose of Dramamine was the only thing that kept you from spiraling as the plane ascended into the air. You slept through the entirety of the trip and, much to Damien’s chagrin, there is a sizeable puddle of drool on his left shoulder to prove it.

The lengthy nap helped. The tight band constricting your chest had loosened, and you pulled out onto the highway feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. You had Damien by your side and five vacation days to enjoy. Your best friend was getting married to the love of her life, and you were hellbent on standing by her side through it all. Spencer Reid can kiss your ass, as far as you are concerned. No way is he going to ruin this for you.

You are still very much clinging your take-no-shit mentality when you breach a hill and the ranch comes into view, effectively expelling every single positive thought from your head. Aforementioned anxiety reappears in full-force and you stomp down on the breaks.

“Fuck, I don’t think I can do this,” you squeak out, casting a look at Damien, whose eyes are trained on the sprawling expanse of the house ahead of you. “We can still turn around – no, we should turn around. There is no version of this that won’t end in me getting embarrassingly drunk and crying in front of everyone. I’m turning around.”

Damien’s hand on yours, strong and steady, is the only thing that keeps you from whipping the car around and retreating with your tail between your legs. His fingers pry your white knuckled grip off of the wheel slowly, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles across your skin. Its sweet and so overwhelmingly gentle that you’re a bit stunned. You glance at him in a silent question, as if to ask who are you, and what have you done with my friend?

He gets the message loud and clear, because of course he does. Damien fixes you with a smile, grip tightening on your hand.

“I’ve seen you hold your own against some of the biggest names in journalism on an almost daily basis – looking damn sexy while you do it, might I add,” Damien chuckles, and you can’t help but give a weak laugh of your own. Damien’s smile grows at this, and he continues, “If you can handle your business against those conniving pricks, I’ve no doubt that you can tough it out for this. You’re not the type of woman that lets some guy dictate what she does or doesn’t do. And you sure as hell aren’t the type of woman that would let some guy rob her of the opportunity to stand by her best friend on the most important day of her life. As the person who probably knows you better than anyone else on the planet, my opinion of you is pretty rock-solid, if I do say so myself. So, unless I’ve completely overestimated the extent of your badassery, I suggest you rethink that plan. What do you say?”

You avert your eyes and swallow against the lump in your throat.

“Spencer’s not just some guy. For a long time, I was convinced that he was the guy,” you whisper. The car is silent, save for the quiet crooning voice of George Michael flowing through the speakers. Damien squeezes your hand, prompting you to continue. You blink up at him with wet lashes, lips pulled into a sad smile. “Have you ever been in love?”

Damien shakes his head and rubs his thumb along the top of your hand. “I can’t say that I have, babe. Haven’t been that lucky.”

You let out a shaky breath and bring your other hand up to wipe at your eyes.

“Maybe you’re better off. I’ve only been in love once,” you gesture to your pitiful appearance and choke out a wet laugh. “Look where that got me. He fucking crushed me, and fifteen years later I’m still broken up about it. It’s pathetic.”

Damien frowns and shifts in his seat so that he’s fully facing you.

“I don’t want to hear you say that self-deprecating shit again. You were hurt by someone you gave your heart to, and I can only imagine how devastating that must feel. Being upset about seeing him again does not make you pathetic. The fact that you’re here, about to spend a week with the guy just so you can be there for Cassidy, is pretty damn admirable as far as I’m concerned.” Damien ends his monologue by pulling you into a tight hug, and you couldn’t be more thankful that he’d come with you. Not only was he a secret sweetheart, he also gave the very best hugs.

By the time he releases you, the tension in your chest has eased significantly. You nod once, and Damien’s rewards you with a smile.

“I am pretty cool, aren’t I?”

Damien snorts rather unattractively and rolls his eyes.

“I take back everything. You suck, and I don’t know why I bother with you, you narcissist.”

Now that the mood has lifted significantly, you reluctantly press your foot against the gas pedal.

“Too late. No takesies backsies,” you singsong. “You think I’m sexy and badass, and I’m never going to let you forget it.”

Damien mutters something undoubtably snarky underneath his breath, but it’s drowned out by the sound of gravel crunching underneath the tires. That, and the sound of your blood roaring in your ears as you inch further down the driveway.

The house, a beautiful log cabin with stone accents along the underside, is massive. Standing at two stories tall with a large wraparound porch and more than a dozen large windows, it’s a far cry from the modest little cabin in the mountains that Cassidy had made it out to be. Even Damien is slack jawed at the sight of it, sitting pretty against a back drop of rolling mountains, and you can’t help but feel a little smug.

“Still want to complain about that five-star resort?”

Damien shakes his head dazedly, “I retract my earlier complaint.”

All too soon, you roll to a stop and put the car in park. Several other cars are parked haphazardly in the grass around you, and that annoying voice inside your head wonders which one belongs to Spencer. It’s not that you care – you totally don’t – it’s just that you are kind of hoping that he hasn’t arrived yet. A few hours to acclimate to the environment before having to deal with him would be nice.

“You’ve got this, babe,” Damien murmurs. “And I’ll be with you the whole time, just in case you need a reminder.”

You flash Damien a nervous smile.

“You’re a really good friend, Dee. I’m really glad that you’re here,” you say, before narrowing your eyes at him. “If you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it.”

Damien snorts and pushes open the door.

“Get your sassy ass out of the car. I’m ready to mingle.”

As soon as you set foot on the porch, the front door flies open and a flash of curly red hair precedes a collision that nearly sends you flying back into the railing. Ecstatic squeals rip through the otherwise serene evening air and two boney arms envelop you into a tight hug.

“I cannot believe you’re actually here,” Cassidy laughs as she squeezes you tight. Her enthusiasm has you joining in, the two of you laughing happily and pulling back to examine one another. Cassidy places a sloppy kiss to both of your cheeks before throwing an arm over your shoulder. “I fully expected you to just blow off the whole thing, if I’m being honest.”

You cast at Damien, who’s watching on with an amused grin on his face.

“Believe me, she tried.”

Cassidy turns her attention to Damien and extends her free hand.

“I take it you’re the infamous Damien that I’ve been trading emails with?”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, “Wait, what? The two of you have been emailing?”

Damien accepts Cassidy’s hand and gives it a firm shake, all while smiling smugly.

“Yep. Me and Ms. Cassidy go way back.”

“I mean, that’s cool, I guess, but why?”

Cassidy and Damien share a look, both of them shrugging.

“Mainly to talk about you,” Cassidy admits, not even bothering to look apologetic. When you frown up at her she waves her hand dismissively at you. “All good things, I promise. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Cassidy punctuates her words with a patronizing pat on your shoulder.

“I knew letting you two meet was a bad idea,” you grumble.

Cassidy simply drops her arms from its place on your shoulder in favor of tugging on your hand.

“Come on, sour puss. I want you to meet my husband. He’s a real sweetie – you’re gonna love him.”

A flash of white-hot panic shoots down your spine and you dig your heels into the floor.

“Wait,” you squeak out, eyes wide. “Is… Is he here yet?”

Cassidy’s eyes shine mischievously, briefly flitting up to Damien before returning to you.

“He is. And you’ll be happy to know that pictures do not do the Good Doctor any justice.”

Salt, meet wound.

“Don’t know why you’re telling me that,” you mutter.

“Denial is not just a river in Egypt, my friend,” Cassidy singsongs as she begins tugging you forward. For someone so tiny, she makes easy work of forcing you through the threshold.

The foyer is just as impressive as you expect it to be – beautiful cedar walls and a grand staircase that leads to the second floor. If you weren’t horribly on edge at the current moment, you would definitely comment on the fact that the foyer alone is probably larger than your entire apartment, but you’re too busy scanning the immediate area for tall skinny white guys with stupidly curly brown hair to comment on the grandiosity.

Cassidy leads the two of you to double doors to the right, and just as she’s about to push them open, the shrill ring of your cellphone offers you an out.

You slip your hand from Cassidy’s grip and give her a faux apologetic look.

“I should probably take this – it might be work.”

Damien narrows his eyes at you. “I thought you left your work phone at home.”

You ignore him and begin taking a few steps backwards, “Is there somewhere private I can go?”

An indiscernible look flashes across Cassidy’s face and then her lips pull up into a sugary sweet smile. “Follow the hallway to the very end. Leads to the back porch,” she says. “No need to rush. Take all the time you need!”

Okay, weird, you think to yourself, but the idea of putting off the inevitable for a few extra moments is too tempting to pass up, so you continue your retreat. You make it to the back door in record time and let out a relieved breath as you bring the phone to your ear.

“Hi, mom.”

“Hi, baby. I was just calling to make sure the two of you got there safely.”

You push open the back door and the breathtaking view of the ranch prompts you to take pause; sprawling fields and rolling hills as far as the eye can see, grazing livestock congregating near a lazy stream at the far end of the property, and several horses running across the expanse of the left field. It was wonderfully serene and vastly different from the bustling rat-race that was New York.

You smile to yourself when a loud moo rips through the otherwise quiet ranch. I could get used to this.

“Yeah, we made it,” you murmur into the receiver. “You would love this place, Mom. It’s probably the prettiest place I’ve ever been. I’ll send you a picture when I hang up.”

“How’s Cassidy? Still a little spit-fire, I assume?”

You lean against the railing and let out a snort, “Oh, absolutely. Don’t think that’ll ever change.”

“I’d hope not,” your mother hums. “How does Damien like the ranch?”

“He’s not exactly a fan of the livestock,” you chuckle. “Damien’s never even seen a real cow before. City boy through and through, that one.”

You and your mother share a laugh that dissolves into a comfortable silence. Comfortable, until the telltale clearing of your mother’s throat warns you of the impending inquisition.

“So,” your mother begins. “Are you going to tell me how it went, or are you going to leave an old woman wondering? “

You sigh and run a hand through your hair. “Fortunately, I have yet to run into him. I may or may not be hiding out on the back porch as we speak in an attempt to avoid just that.”

“Y/N,” your mother chastises. “Prolonging the inevitable isn’t going to make this any easier.”

“I know, I know. I’ll go in there soon. It’s just a lot, you know? I needed to take a breather, first.” Just until my hands stop shaking. Or until Cassidy comes hunting for me. Whichever comes first.

“I know, baby,” your mother coos. “I’m proud of you for trying. Just don’t drag things out, okay? You’ll only make yourself sick with nerves.” Unfortunately, that ship has sailed. The rolling in your stomach can attest to that.

You laugh a humorless laugh, “I don’t know, Mom. You always like to remind me how stubborn I am. I’m sure if I put my mind to it, I can just avoid him for the entire week.”

A tiny movement at the very corner of your vision and a loud creak makes you whip your head around, and what you see has your heart falling to your ass.

Spencer Reid, looking absolutely stunning in a pair of khaki dress pants and a white cable-knit sweater, sits in a porch swing with wide eyes and a book clutched tightly in his hands. Soft, caramel-colored curls frame his face and a five o’clock shadow runs the length of his jaw, adding a bit of grown-up flare to his otherwise boyish features.

He looks every bit as beautiful as he did on the day he broke your heart.

Spencer knows that he should have spoken up as soon as you walked onto the porch. It was immediately obvious that you hadn’t seen him, and he swears he’s one second away from clearing his throat and launching into the introduction he’d been planning for the last sixty days. But the words die on his tongue as he drinks in the sight of you.

You’re so close to him for the first time in years and it’s more than a little bit dizzying. And yeah, he’s used his very limited knowledge of how the internet works to Google you on more than one occasion, but the version of you leaning against the porch railing is a far cry from the pixelized one. A light breeze rolling through the air lifts your hair away from your face, and Spencer’s breath catches in his throat as he surveys every perfect inch, from the curl of your lashes to the smattering of freckles on your nose. He indulges himself, eyes settling on your cherry red lips, fascinated by the way they move as you talk on the phone. Spencer is intimately familiar with those lips – can recall the way they felt pressed against his own. The years spent apart have done nothing to dull the memories. He’s not entirely sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.

It amazes him how you’ve somehow managed to change a lot, but also not at all. You stand before him as an oxymoron personified, and it’s a lot for Spencer’s poor heart to take in. Your hair is a bit lighter than he remembers, as well as a little longer, but it still looks just as soft and he can recall with startling clarity how it felt when he used to run his fingers through it. You have a few more laugh lines than you did, as well as a scar on your left elbow that hadn’t been there before, but everything else about you is so painfully familiar that Spencer could almost pretend that no time had passed – that he still knows your body as well as he once did.

Spencer knows this isn’t true. Every seven years, the body resets; old cells destroyed and replaced with new ones. You’ve both spent enough time apart that your bodies have reset twice over. You’re as much of a stranger to him as he is to you.

Spencer positively abhors the thought.

The sound of your laughter pulls him from the depths of his mind, and while the laugh isn’t warm or inviting in the slightest, he relishes it. What was once one of his favorite sounds has existed in his head as only a memory for far too long. Hearing it in person is jarring in the best of ways.

The euphoria he feels dies a horrible death when you speak again.

“I don’t know, Mom. You always like to remind me how stubborn I am. I’m sure if I put my mind to it, I can just avoid him for the entire week.”

Fucking ouch.

Spencer cringes hard, too hard, because the porch swing screeches out an angry creak and you whip around and holy shit, have your eyes always been that entrancing?

He watches as your entire body goes rigid, tensed as if you’re about to bolt. You blink hard, eyebrows drawn together to form an adorably bewildered expression as you assess him. Spencer hopes he doesn’t look too disheveled. He hadn’t even thought to freshen up after his trip, an oversight that he’s regretting terribly as your eyes flit over him.

Spencer isn’t sure why, but he stands up. Maybe it has something to do with feeling vulnerable. Maybe he just wants to close the distance. The two steps he takes towards you support the latter. He’s thankful that you don’t move away, but the blank expression on your face worries him.

The two of you stand five feet apart, but you feel worlds away. Spencer refrains from speaking for as long as he can stand, which is only about thirty seconds.

“Hi.”

Your lips part, and Spencer holds his breath.

“Hi.”

More silence. Spencer gulps.

“It’s good to see you,” he says, cautious. The last thing he wants to do is fuck up within the first five minutes. Unfortunately, his brain and his mouth seem to have some sort of disconnect, and Spencer continues against his better judgment. “It’s been a while.”

It’s been a while? That’s seriously the best I can come up with?

Spencer contemplates drowning himself in the nearby stream.

“It certainly has.”

“Five-thousand, five-hundred and seventeen days.” And roughly thirty-six and a half hours, but who’s counting?

Muted noises flow out of your phone speaker and you pull your eyes away from Spencer. He’s both relieved and devastated.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. I just ran into someone. I’ll call you back later, okay?”

Spencer agonizes over the fact that he’s been reduced to someone while you and your mother exchange goodbyes. You’re smiling when you look up at him again, but Spencer’s seen what a genuine smile of yours looks like, and this isn’t it.

“I didn’t see you sitting there. My apologies.” Your formality makes the situation all the more excruciating.

Spencer lets out a nervous laugh, “I suppose avoiding me is out of the question now, huh?”

It’s hard to tell who’s more horrified by the words that tumble from his mouth, you or Spencer. A fierce flush spreads across your cheeks. It’s the first crack in your otherwise calm and collected exterior thus far and Spencer relishes in it. Maybe you’re not as unaffected by him as you seem.

“I… I’m sorry you had to hear that,” you stammer, blinking up at him with guilty eyes. “That wasn’t very kind of me.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can’t say that I’m undeserving of your anger,” Spencer whispers so quietly that he worries you don’t hear him over the gentle flow of the stream. The hardness that returns to your eyes lets him know that you heard every word.

You clear your throat, signaling your unwillingness to discuss that particularly painful topic. “You’re still partial to Cummings, I see.” You gesture to the book clutched tightly against his chest.

Now, it’s Spencer’s turn to blush. The book in his hands, tattered and worn from years of use, is incriminating. The two of you both know what lies just beneath the binding. The fact that Spencer has it with him now makes him think that he might as well be wearing a t-shirt that reads, I’M STILL NOT OVER YOU.

Spencer raises a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. Old habits die hard, I guess.” His eyes scour your face for a sign of anything that might clue him in to you feeling the same way. A flicker of something dances across your face, but it’s gone so quickly that he can’t be sure if he imagined it. He forces a nervous smile. “If I remember correctly, he was your favorite.” It’s a shitty attempt at a joke.

You exhale a shaky breath and to his absolute horror, your lower lip begins to wobble. He wishes he could reach up and pluck his words from where they hang heavy in the air.

“Not anymore,” you murmur, and fuck if that doesn’t absolutely wreck him.

Spencer shouldn’t ask, but he can’t help himself. “Oh. Why not?”

He holds his breath, anxiously anticipating your next words. You seem to be battling with yourself, mouth opening and closing several times. Spencer is content to wait as long as it takes for you to answer, but the universe is much more impatient than he.

The door leading onto the porch swings open and out walks an honest to God Abercrombie and Fitch model. Or at least, a man who meets the qualifications and then some. Long, flowing blonde hair and a crisp white dress shirt makes Spencer’s unruly brown mop and dumpy sweater look pitiful in comparison. Spencer frowns.

“Sweetheart, you’ve been out here for like ten minutes,” the man chastises as he closes the distance between you and him. Spencer watches him wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you to him like someone might watch a car wreck happen; with equal parts horror and morbid curiosity. “You can’t hide out forever.”

All traces of rigidity leave your body and you melt into the man’s side. It happens in such a way that screams familiarity, as if the pet name hadn’t already driven that point home. The awful, gut-wrenching realization slams home and Spencer has to fight to keep his knees from buckling.

“Uh, sorry,” you mumble, before nodding your head in Spencer’s direction. “Damien, this is Spencer Reid.”

The man’s – Damien’s - eyes go almost comically wide as they settle on Spencer’s dejected frame, before schooling into a cool indifference. He offers him a polite smile that’s a little tight around the edges, but doesn’t outstretch his hand.

“Ah, Spencer. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Spencer swallows hard to keep himself from barking out a crazed laugh. He’s heard of me! That’s certainly something, considering the fact that no one thought it necessary to tell Spencer that you have a –

Spencer’s eyes dart down to your left hand. Thankfully, mercifully, your ring finger is bare.

“Uh, y-yeah. It’s nice to meet you.” The words burn as they roll off his tongue.

Damien nods at him before turning back to you. There’s an unmistakable fondness in the way he looks at you as he speaks. “Cassidy wants everyone back inside. They’re about to serve dinner.”

You smile up at him, not even casting a parting glance at Spencer before Damien leads you back inside. Spencer stands there long after the door closes behind the two of you.

The book feels heavy in his hands.

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fandom-imagines · 5 years ago

Text

Twins

Fandom: Overwatch

Pairing: Jesse McCree X Reader

Warnings: Abusive ex boyfriend, violence, semi-smut?

Words: 2248

Summary: After seeing Jesse McCree again after 11 years, some secrets are revealed.

It was weird, being back here at Overwatch headquarters many years later with my old colleagues. The HQ was the same, nothing much had really changed besides it being cleaned up a tad bit since the previous time I was here all those years ago. Most of the members hadn’t changed much too, besides me of course but I guess having two kids would do that to a girl. Speaking of those too little rascals, my mind began to wander slightly wondering how the two twins were doing hanging out with Hana, most likely playing video games. I had left Jacob and Jessica with Hana to do whatever they pleased as Hana had decided against going to the reunion party, favouring to stream for her fans.

“Y/F/N, I haven’t heard that name in years.” A thick southern accent sounded from behind me.

Oh shit.

“Jesse.” I said, forcing a smile as I turned to face him.

“Always wondered where you’d headed off to, darling.” He smiled back, his also forced as he placed emphasis on the term darling.

Of course, I expected this reaction. I had completely abandoned him eleven years ago.

Panicked, I paced frantically back and forth across the tiled floor of my bathroom, my bare toes occasionally brushing the blue rug in mine and Mccree’s shared bathroom.

“Shit, shit, shit.” I mumbled, tugging at my hair in an attempt to release some of the panic.

Obviously, it didn’t work.

My eyes looked up from the ground to the sink, spotting the positive pregnancy test placed on top of it which began to stress me out further.

The one time me and Jesse had gotten drunk and had some ‘fun’ this had to happen. The one time.

My brain, clouded with panic, immediately went to the one idea that I probably shouldn’t have done.

Run away.

So, I did.

I headed to the commander’s office, explaining the issue and how I wanted to do what was best for me and my soon to be born baby. He understood, allowing me to leave but not before agreeing to not mention it to anybody, not even my boyfriend. And that was the last I ever saw of Jesse Mccree, until today…

“Well, you know…” I gulped, eyes looking anywhere except his pleading ones. “Duty calls.” I shrugged.

He gave me a fake nod along with a smile.

Despite the eleven years away from him, my feelings hadn’t faded one bit. He was still the handsome cowboy I fell in love with when I was young and probably would always be in love with but, after I did what I did, I didn’t expect him to feel the same.

“How have you been?” He asked politely, making me loosen up a little.

Maybe he isn’t as angry now. It must have been a shock seeing me.

“I’ve been okay.” I smiled slightly, “How have you been Jess?” I asked, the nickname slipping so casually off my tongue, not feeling foreign at all making both our eyes widen.

“I-I’ve been okay too.” He stuttered, pink darting up onto his cheeks.

“Good, good.” I said, looking towards my purse as my phone began to ring.

“Excuse me,” I excused myself, the clicking of my heels sounding behind me as I headed outside of the venue, still feelings his eyes on me.

“Hey, Hana. What’s up?” I answered upon seeing her caller ID.

“Hey! Jessica and Jacob fell asleep, do you want me to bring them to your room when you’re back?” She asked.

“I’m on my way back now, I’ll pick them up don’t worry.”

“Okay! See you soon.” And that was the last thing I heard before she hung up.

A smile on my lips, I headed to Hana’s room to pick up Jessica and Jacob.

With the two brown-haired twins fast asleep in their room, I headed to sit in my bed and watch some television.

I was about halfway through some random show when a quiet knock on the door caught my attention. My eyes darted to the clock, reading the numbers 1:14.

Who on earth could be knocking on my door at this time? Better yet, why?

I checked on the twins quickly before opening the door to a drunken Mccree.

“Jesse?” I asked, eyes wide.

“Heya, darling.” He grinned, making my heart warm.

“You’re drunk.” I stated, stepping out into the hallway, closing the door behind me so that we wouldn’t wake Jacob or Jessica up.

“And you’re beautiful, no matter how much you’ve grown.” He slurred, wrapping his arms tightly around me. “I’ve missed you, darling.” He hugged me as I felt wetness on my back.

Is he… crying?

“You don’t mean that, Jess… You’re just drunk.” I sighed, prying his hands off of me, much to both our dismay.

“Mummy?” Jessica’s quiet voice whispered behind us as she opened the door, her white bunny in hand.

Once again, both Jesse’s and my eyes widened, McCree suddenly sobering up.

“W-Who’s this?” He asked, eyes still wide.

“This is Jessica.” I said, eyes fixated of Jessica as her hand slipped into my own.

“Who’s this, mummy?” She yawned.

“Nobody, sweetheart. Go back to bed.” She smiled as I patted her hair, just as Jacob walked into the hallway.

“C’mon, Jess. Mum said back to bed.” He smiled, taking Jessica’s hand from mine and pulling her back into the room.

“Are they-” He began, before I cut him off.

“Look, Jess. We’ll talk tomorrow if you still want too. Just, go sober up and get some sleep. I don’t want to have this conversation when you’ve been drinking.” A sigh escaped my lips while he nodded, turning to walk down the hall without a word.

Jesse…

The entirety of the following day was spent wondering whether or not Jesse would still want to talk to me today. I had a feeling that he would, but I wasn’t certain. I had completely abandoned him, after all.

Despite not knowing, I asked Hana to look after the two siblings for the night, not knowing when/if he would show and I didn’t want to wake them if they were sleeping.

It was around 9pm when as quiet knock came from my door which I hesitantly answered, seeing a red eyed McCree outside.

“Can I- Can I come in?” He asked, at which I nodded, widening the door to allow him to enter.

We took a seat on the blue couch that was tucked away in a corner, our knees pressed together making my heart race at the contact.

“Look, I’m just going to be blunt here,” he started, making me nervous, “are they mine?”

I looked to the ground, avoiding his gaze as I nodded.

“Is that why you left?” He asked quietly, hand grabbing my cheek as he asked me to look at him.

I gave another nod.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared.” I mumbled, tears welling up in my eyes.

His puppy dog eyes softened at the sight of me crying.

“Don’t cry, darling. C’mere.” Jesse sighed, pulling me into a tight hug as I sobbed into the crook of his neck.

“I missed you.” I cried, gripping him tightly as if it would be the last time I could ever hold him because, in my mind, it could be.

“Me too, sweetpea. Me too.” He said, pulling away to wipe my tears.

“I-I’m sorry.” I blubbered, feeling oddly ridiculous but also nice that I could get this off of my chest which is something I’ve wanted since I left.

To get rid of the guilt.

“Shh, it’s okay.”

It took a while for me to calm down, but with his touch and comforting words, I did.

Now we were sat here in silence, both of us not knowing what to say. I was avoiding all eye contact, feeling incredibly weak for crying in front of him.

“Darling,” McCree whispered, placing his hand on my cheek, “look at me.” He smiled, lifting my face to meet his eyes.

We stared at each other for a second, before his lips crashed against mine as he pushed me to lay down on the couch, his arms holding him above my body while he kissed me, a feeling I loved each time.

“Fuck, darling. I love you.” He groaned into the kiss as his lips made their way down to my neck.

“Me too, Jess.” I moaned as he kissed me, occasionally sucking to leave marks.

His hands moved down to my t-shirt making my eyes widen.

“J-Jess, I can’t. I’m sorry.” I stuttered, gently grabbing his hand.

He immediately stopped, sitting up, pulling me with him.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, darling.” He smiled; hands placed reassuringly on my shoulders. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

All I could do is nod.

“I’ll see you again, right?” He asked as we stood outside my door.

“Of course, Jess.” I smiled, leaning up to kiss him.

“Good.” He grinned, kissing me again before leaving.

As I closed the door behind me, I leant against it with a wide smile which was soon dropped when I read the text on my phone.

Unknown Number: Glad someone is happy.

Panic clouded my room as I paced around the bathroom, just like all those years ago.

Don’t run, don’t run, don’t run.

“It’s okay, Y/N. He can’t hurt you anymore. He has no hold on you.”

But that damned message kept running through my head.

Was he watching?

Is he going to hurt the twins?

Or Jess?

Or me?

“Nono, I can do this. I can look after them.” I spoke into the mirror, staring at my reflection before raising my fist and hitting it, the glass shard shattering all over the floor, some in my hand.

“Mummy!” Jacobs voice shrieked as he walked into the room to see me unsuccessfully attempting to patch my own hand. “What happened?”

“Just an accident, J. Don’t worry.” I smiled, groaning as I failed again.

“You should go see Angela, Y/N.” Hana said, giving me a sympathetic look as she entered the room with Jessica.

I gave her a quick nod, heading to go see Angela who would definitely lecture me.

Once I was all patched up, I headed back to my room.

Hana had agreed to look after the twins again so I could take a moment to collect myself, but they’d be returning soon. The second I opened the door, I was pinned against it?

“Who said you could be happy without me, huh?” A demanding voice yelled, hand hitting the wall beside me making me flinch.

Looking up, I spotted him.

My ex.

Not by choice, but an ex nonetheless.

“I’m not yours anymore, Damien. In fact, I never was.” I spat in his face making him snarl, hands harshly gripping my wrists, pinning them above me.

He put my wrists in one hand, his other hand lifting my shirt to reveal multiple cigarette burns which Damien had inflicted on me for the greater good; the greater good being the protection of my children.

“So, he’s the dad, huh? The cowboy?” He chuckled darkly, placing a hard slap across my cheek which I knew would leave a mark, if it hadn’t already.

“Let go of me.” I demanded, doing my best to make me voice remain monotone to hide the fear and panic I was feeling currently.

“No.”

“I think the pretty lady asked you to let her go, buddy.”

Both our gazes darted towards the door where Jesse stood with our kids.

“What you gonna do if I don’t, cowboy?” Damien smirked which soon disappeared the second Jess pulled out his peacekeeper.

“Well you see,” He said, spinning it around his finger. “I do happen to know how to use this. Not only that, but I’m pretty sure I’d get away with it because it is technically protecting my girl.”

While Damien was distracted, I took the chance to knee him where it hurts, making him groan and kneel down giving me time to punch him across the face.

“Never and I mean never touch me again.” I spat, stepping over his body which was now curled up on the floor as I headed towards my family.

“You okay, darling?” Jesse asked, stroking my hair while Jessica and Jacob hugged me tightly.

“I’m fine, Jess. Thank you for coming.” I smiled, blushing slightly.

“Anytime, sweetpea.” He winked, walking over to Damien to give him a harsh kick to the face making Jacob and Jessica giggle as they did the same.

“C’mon, lets leave this loser.” Jess smiled at me, taking the hands of the twins but not before giving me a peck on the cheek.

In the end, both Jessica and Jacob were told about Jesse and I; not to the full extent but to the point they knew enough and they loved him. I think it may have partly been for the fact that he had potentially saved my life, but it could also be how lovely he is to them and me.

“Hey, darling.” Jess’s voice called from the other room.

I quickly walked there. Jacob and Jessica were with Hana and Lucio so it was just the two of us together in our room.

“I never did get the chance to ask you this before everything happened but…”

I watched him get down on one knee.

“Will you marry me?”

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klaumiel · 4 years ago

Text

You are all I’ve got,Damien.// Chapter 2: Mama Knows Best.

I was sitting in my favourite armchair in my parent’s house, sipping tea and chilling like every other Saturday morning. She makes the best tea in the world, like a magic elixir for all my fears and problems. Checking my phone every few minutes, I looked at my mum sitting on the sofa focused on filing her long red nails. She is beautiful as always, so classy and sophisticated, with her beautiful long black and curly hair, big brown eyes. She looked like a proper lady in her brown pencil skirt and white shirt neatly pushed inside, long legs like a model, nobody can tell that she just turned fifty-two. She was glowing. And yet, there was this familiar sadness in her eyes, I’ve seen it so many times, this look when she stares in the distance lost in her thoughts, hurts me every time seeing her like this because I know exactly what it means.

Dad promised her that this will be his last deployment and he will retire so they can finally live their lives the way they wanted, but he said that last time as well and one before that. She knew that he always wanted to reach the Captain rank, and she let him follow his dreams. Even if that meant leaving us for months every year, missing Christmas, birthdays and challenging times. He got promoted four years ago and finally, after over thirty years in the army, he had his dream job. My mother never complained, she loves him too much, after all, he was her first love her ‘hero’ as he always calls him.

She was devoted to her work as a music teacher, that always helped her in worse times, we grew up with her beautiful songs and a voice of an angel, her powerful cante flamenco only proved how magical and emotional music can be.

It was tough for her to leave Sevilla, her family and friends, but she did it for love, for my Dad. My grandmother was against it, but she did it anyway. A nineteen years old music student with no language or money, completely alone only a handsome soldier that she fell in love with a few months before. She knew that she will have a beautiful life; she took a risk, and it paid off. Well, that’s what she uses to tell us, was it really what she always dreamt off? Being part-single single mother with two kids, praying every day for her husband to come back in one piece and not in the wooden box? I think she tried so hard to convince herself that in the end, she believed it.

She is the most caring and loving person I know, always two steps ahead of us catching us before we fall, still supporting even if what we are doing it’s just stupid and illogical.

We didn’t give her a hard time as kids, as twins, we naturally looked after one another without even thinking about it, if one was in trouble or going through a hard time the other one always knew. It always freaked me out how this is possible that being somewhere else I can still feel Shaun’s emotions and vice versa. We are the same in every aspect, like the same things, react the same way to everything.

‘Maya!’ She snapped me from my thoughts ‘I asked you if you want more tea and some cake? Lemon cheesecake your favourite.’ Did she just said lemon cheesecake !?

‘Oh my god, Mum! You don’t have to ask twice. You know that I would die for it’ She laughed and walked to the kitchen.

I looked at my phone again. Just a few silly messages from Gemma describing Greg’s best bed tricks. I swear she will eat this poor guy alive! After a few conversations with Greg, I convinced him to give her a chance, he finally understood that we can’t be together as the feeling wasn’t mutual.

They went on a date a few days after, and now they are inseparable, I felt a little guilty that I left this for so long I could’ve pushed them earlier to try.

I called Gemma while my mum was in the kitchen.

‘Hey, girl! What’s up?!’ She answered I could hear Greg in the background; I guess I just disturbed something. Did he just moan?!

‘Nothing much, I’m just chilling here with my mum and wanted to check how are you doing, but from your texts, and what I can hear I guessed you are nice and comfy whenever you are’ I laughed

‘Well, I’m with Greg … I had to pull him away from work, he spends way too much time working on things that don’t matter, he needs to relax, reports and taxes can wait until Monday I am more important right now’ she giggled

‘You know he is a workaholic, but I can see you are doing a great job in changing that, I’m glad to hear it. ‘

‘And how is your prison bae? Did you decide if you are going to visit him? I thought that was your plan for today, to surprise him. Did you chicken out?’ I checked if my mum wasn’t coming back from the kitchen, and I lowered my voice.

‘I didn’t chicken out, I called yesterday, but I was late for booking. Plus I am not sure if surprising him is a good idea, maybe I should discuss this with him first ‘ I saw my mum coming back from the kitchen.

‘Is your call girl, you know him better, but you have to make up your mind. Six weeks of only texting and sending hot pics is a long time. You are long overdue for the next level. Just don’t get too invested if you are not sure if you want to make a move, plus is not like you two have much of a future… I think you should look elsewhere is pointless to waste your time on him at this point, he has no future ’ Not much of a future ?! Waste my time?! What the hell was that about?! I was just about to call her out, but I saw my mum in the living room pouring tea and putting three plates on the table.

‘OK, Gemma, I have to go. Have fun, just make sure you can walk on Monday. Sara is only waiting for a chance to shame you in front of everyone…Bye’ I hang up before she could answer. I couldn’t believe that she said that. What got into her? She was very salty about the whole Damien situation from the start, and recently she avoided me. Just talking about herself and Greg. Even in the office, we didn’t chat as much as we use to. I was puzzled and hurt at the same time, that was so mean and entirely not like her.

I tossed my phone on the table with anger, and I was just about to dig into my cheesecake when I heard a doorbell.

‘I will get it Mum!’ I run to the door, I knew it was Shaun I could feel it, smiling from ear to ear, his black curls wet from the rain falling in his green eyes.

I am always so happy to see him, my little brother. Well, three minutes difference, but still, he is younger than me, and he hates it.

‘Hello, sis! I think I need a towel is absolutely lashing out there’ He said, shaking his wet hair while coming inside.

‘Here it is sweetheart, just in time, cake is on the table.’ My mum always two steps ahead, always prepared. She hugged him and dried his head with towel messing his hair up.

As soon as we sat down, I heard my phone ping. A familiar tune that made me smile each time I heard it. It was him! Of course, it was, I didn’t talk to anyone else there. I grabbed it as fast as I could, Shaun and Mum were busy chatting about some series on Netflix that I didn’t see, so I took the opportunity to focus on the conversation with Damien. He had a shitty day, so I decided to cheer him up a little. I’ve sent him a picture of me holding a tray with the pie that I’ve made the day before from the recipe he gave me. I was covered in flour from head to toe my hair was all messy. He joked about the mess I made in the kitchen. We talked about our favourite desserts, we had the same taste, so it wasn’t surprising to me when he said that lemon cheesecake is also his favourite. It was a short conversation, his time in the library was over. He kept his phone there, in one of the books.

I was happy to have at least this ten minutes with him. Made me feel better that I managed to cheer him up a little bit, he was a bit tense lately. I had a feeling he is hiding something, but I didn’t want to push him.

I’ve put my phone down, and I saw Shaun and Mum staring at me.

‘What?’ I asked nervously looking around myself to see what they are looking at. ‘Did I spill some tea? ‘

‘Who was that sweetie?’ My Mum smiled at me ‘Was it Albert?’ Why would she think it was Albert?

‘No, why you think it was Albert? I didn’t hear from him for weeks, plus we left it as they were. I don’t want to waste my time on him. I don’t even know when he is coming back, could be months. I made my decision, one soldier in the family is enough. I want my man to be next to me every day. I am not strong enough to go through the same as you’ her smile dropped instantly. Fuck! My big mouth again! ‘ Mum I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to..’

‘It’s ok love, I know what you mean, and I fully understand it’s not an easy life, and if you don’t feel like he is worth that kind of commitment you shouldn’t waste your time and wait for him. I stuck with your father because he was the one, still is but if you don’t feel like Albert is that’s only fair’ she paused for a second, and her smile came back ‘ So if not Albert who was it then? You were smiling and giggling the whole time. I didn’t see you like this for a long time.’

She was right, I didn’t feel like this for a long time, this whole Luke situation messed me up pretty badly.

‘It’s nothing, is just a guy from Lovelink that I am chatting with. Really, not a big deal’ She didn’t believe a word I said. Shaun shoot me an angry glance. Mum always knows when we are lying.

‘You are not getting away with this, not this time, you just blew your cover by giggling like mad! He knew about Damien, I told him everything, and I felt like it is time to share it with mum. At this stage, I was too deep into this, and she already knew that I am hiding something. We never had any secrets in the family, we made a promise that we need to share everything so we can help each other when we needed, and I didn’t want to break it.

I looked at my phone again and saw the last message from Damien.

“Bye messy pie :)’’

I smiled. He is so fucking sweet, sometimes. Took a deep breath.

‘OK, I will tell you but please don’t freak out.’

She poured more tea to the mugs sat comfortably on the sofa, put her hands on her knees. She was ready, that’s what she thought, but she wasn’t.

‘About six weeks ago I matched with this guy, Damien Jones. I wasn’t sure at first, but I swiped because he intrigued me, I saw something interesting in him. See for yourself.’ I showed her his profile picture and the one he sent me a few weeks ago with his pop. I kept shirtless to myself.

‘Wow, handsome man. So far, so good.’ God, she is so not ready for that. Shaun smiled, he knew I was shitting myself, I didn’t want her to know.

‘Well, we really clicked, not right away. In the beginning, I thought that he is a bit of a prick, rude and arrogant, but he started to open up and … we were texting every day, getting to know each other. He is a bit rough around the edges but is getting better. I think I am bringing his soft side now. You will like that… he is a poet.’ I had to start with the right things, prepare her. She loves poetry.

‘Oh, that’s so romantic. You seem to like him.’

‘Yes, I do. I feel like we have a connection, even tho we’ve been only texting, we didn’t really meet in real life yet, but we have something special.’

‘ He didn’t take you for a date in six weeks? Why? That’s a red flag sweetheart ‘ Fuck! Here we go. Just say it! I looked at Shaun, begging for help, but he nodded reassuring me. I took a deep breath and looked at my Mum. My mouth was dry as sand, I took a big sip of tea, brushed my hair nervously She is going to flip.

‘Mum, we couldn’t go on a date because he is in prison’ My heart pounded in my chest, I desperately searched for her reaction. She had a poker face, but I knew she was shocked, she didn’t say anything because she knew this is not all ‘He was falsely accused of murder seven years ago.. he is innocent, but there is not enough evidence to prove it.’

She didn’t say anything, just looked away then down. I felt my eyes filling with tears. She is disappointed, she won’t even look at me. I caught Shaun looking at her. Finally, she said quietly slowly bringing her eyes back to me.

‘Well, this was unexpected.. how long is his sentence?’ Mum was very serious, but I could see that she cared, she was worried. There was approval in her piercing brown eyes. That approval that I needed right now.

‘He is on the death row.’ I nearly whispered, looking at the floor, tears flowing. I felt horrible. On one side, my mum, always wanting me to find a good Nobel man and have a perfect family, one that we never had. And on the other side Damien, the not ideal partner for her perfect daughter, another criminal

‘Oh my god, sweetie.’ She sat on the floor next to me, took my hands in hers and looked at me ‘Are you hundred per cent sure he is innocent?’

‘ Yes, I believe him.’ I whispered

I told her everything. How Damien and his pop ran a chop shop together, how his half-brother Bennie started using heavy drugs and his father kicked him out, so he decided to take them down with his new gang; they got into a fight and Bennie tried to shoot Damien, but his pop pushed him away and took the bullet. Bennie and his thugs knocked Damien down and left him next to his dead father with the gun in his hand. Unfortunately, this was enough evidence to prove him guilty and sentenced to death.

I didn’t even notice that I was crying like a baby the whole time. I must’ve looked pathetic.

‘ I know that you think I must be stupid, he could be lying and just playing me, but I really have feelings for him. I can’t even explain it. I believe him, he would never kill his father, he loved him, I could feel it from the way he spoke about him.’ I took a deep breath trying to calm myself ‘I saw his rough side when we started talking, but now he is a different person… he opened up ‘ Suddenly all the thoughts of losing him went through my head

‘Mum... I have to help him … I don’t know how but I can’t let him die.’ I felt her arms wrapped around my shoulders when she squeezed to sit next to me. She wiped my cheeks and lifted my chin.

‘ Sweetheart, I would never think you are stupid. Love is never stupid, I would’ve been a complete hypocrite to think this way. You are my daughter, my whole world, and I love you with my whole heart. You are exactly like me when you fall for someone you fall deep. I can see that you care about this boy. And your golden heart won’t let you just leave him like that. Maya, if you believe he's innocent, I trust you’ She pointed at my phone ’ I don’t see a murderer in him, there is good in his eyes. And what’s most important you see a good person in him, you gave him a chance because you knew is right.’ Her expression softened ‘ We better start thinking about how we can help him.’

Shaun sat on the sofa, resting his head on his hands, suddenly he got up.

‘Sis, we will figure something out. There must be a way to get him out of this, talk to him see what you can learn. I’m sure he knows what to do but is holding back, is too proud to ask you for help. He is too young and definitely not ready to die…Listen… Dad will be back in a few weeks maybe he can pull some strings, in the meantime try to convince Damien to let you help him.’

I wasn’t expecting my mum to understand, but she saw something more than just a stupid girl falling in love with the guy who most likely will never see the outside world before saying goodbye to it. She felt my determination and will to get him out of this shit, and as always she was two steps ahead.

‘ What was the other evidence apart from the gun?’ She asked while walking back to the sofa

‘ Partial DNA on him, which by the way is the same as Bennie’s, if we could have his DNA that would be a full match. I’m sure that would be enough to prove him innocent. I spoke with him about this, but nobody knows where Bennie is now, and police aren’t even looking for him. Plus is not easy to convince Damien to let me help him, he is stubborn, he lived with the idea that there is no chance for him to get out for seven years and now when there is a small chance he is scared, he won’t admit it, but he is scared someone will get hurt because of him again.’

‘You have to convince him’ Shaun said ‘ I am sure he knows something, a guy like Bennie can’t just disappear without the trace unless they are dead. Then we are screwed… Talk to him and don’t do anything stupid alone, you have me’ He smiled and flicked my nose

Next day I spoke with Damien about the possibility of finding Bennie, of course, he didn’t want me to get involved. How someone can be so stubborn!?

But that day, I decided that I had enough of him pissing around. After he got stabbed in the library by few of Bennie’s thugs who tried to cut his tongue, to make sure he won’t speak before the execution.

This was the point in which I drew the line, it was too much. My man was in grave danger, and I suppose to sit with my arms crossed? No fucking way! But before he managed to get proper angry he told me that we will give it ago, he had information where Bennie was last seen, he sent me an address and asked me to wait until we make a plan. He clearly doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does.’

The moment Damien went offline, I put the address in my GPS and drove there. I looked around the place that seemed to be a chop shop. Damien texted me when I was hidden behind the fence. He was fuming, I didn’t listen to him after all, he specifically told me to wait. Sorry not sorry, darling.

We confirmed that the bike outside the shop was Bennie’s, I went to look around searching for anything useful, but then my luck reached its end together with my common sense.

Bennie found me. I had only one chance to use this to my advantage, he was meters away from me. I only needed a bit of his hair, that's all.

I could stir it anyway I could, I had him right in front of me, but no. I did the only thing my stupid mind told me to.

I agreed to go on a date with a murderer. How wonderfully clever of me. Mama will be proud.

It was the stupidest idea ever, but it was the only chance I had to free Damien, or at least save his life.

Damien wasn’t happy with the idea, but he knew it is the only way. Only one shot, he’s the only door to freedom.

We planned everything, go in get the hair and get out. Simple as that. Nothing can go wrong, right? Right.

I called Shaun, I was stupid and desperate enough to go on a date a murderer but not dumb as to go there alone.

#damien jones #damien jones fanfic #lovelink #damien #lovelink damien #lovelink fanfic #fanfic

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jasons-exposedspine · 4 years ago

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My Way Out chapter 2

Summary: Negan and Reagan have dinner and drink a little bit of whiskey together.

Warnings: Language cuz its fucking Negan, flirting i mean a little.

Characters: Negan x Reagan MY OC

Authors note: i’m sorry it took me soo fucking long to upload this its just a lot of things are happening in my fucking life right now. if you absolutely fucking hate this story i get it i fucking suck at writing. but i know what i am going to do for this story and its kind of a fast burn story.

Reagan had a shower and put on an oversized black shirt and a pair of lacy black panties, she left her long black hair out so it could dry after she washed it. There came a loud knocking at the door, Reagan walked over to the door and opened it. Negan was standing in front of her with two plates of spaghetti, Reagan didn’t care if he saw her in her panties. “I thought we could have dinner together if that’s ok with you.” “Yeah puddin come in i don’t fucking care” Negan walked past her and put the plates down on the table. Reagan sat at the table across from Negan and began to eat the spaghetti, she made Negan feel a feeling that he hadn’t felt since Lucille.

Negan didn’t like this feeling so he was going to avoid it for as long as he could. “This is really fucking good did you make it?” Negan smirked at her “yeah Darlin i made it, i’m glad you fucking like it.” Reagan shook her head “don’t think we are going to be best fucking friends or anything and don’t get your hopes up for anything more than that.” “Darlin i know you would cut my fucking dick off if i tried anything so i am not unless you want me to.”

Reagan chuckled and brushed her dark hair behind her ear, “well i might not puddin if you be nice enough to me i’ll think about us being friends.” “Alright sweetheart i want us to be friends”, after they ate Reagan did the dishes and put them on the table. Reagan yawned, she turned to Negan sitting on the couch “alright puddin i’m going to sleep if you don’t mind getting the fuck out of my room.” Negan got off the couch and grabbed the two plates from the table, “Alright princess.” Reagan walked over and went to hit him, “ok, ok i won’t call you that i’ll fucking go” Negan walked out the door and Reagan closed it behind him. Reagan smiled and turned the light off and walked over to her bed, she was fast asleep within minutes.

It was two am in the morning and Reagan woke up to a nightmare covered in sweat and breathing hard. She got out of bed and walked over to her black bag on the couch and took out her pack of cigarettes and her lighter. She opened the door and walked down the hall to a door that lead to a balcony, she lit a cigarette and put it in her mouth. While she was blowing smoke she thought about Negan, he had made her laugh for the first time in a long time. She also thought about how he made her dinner, Reagan put the smoke out and walked back down the hall. One of the saviours walked in front of her and stopped her in her tracks. “Come on Darlin you wanna come into my room and have some fun” Reagan tried to get past him but he grasped her wrist tightly. “No asshole” he stroked her cheek, “oh come on sweetheart it’ll be real fun you will enjoy it.” Reagan went to punch him put he grasped her throat and pushed against the wall.

He strangled her hard, he shoved her panties down her legs, but before he could do anything there came a large bang on the wall. “Hey she said no and she fucking meant it”, Negan walked down the hall with Lucille over his shoulder. “You know rape is against the fucking rules yet you break the fucking rules, i can’t have that.” He let go of Reagan’s throat, she took in a deep breath and pulled her panties up, “i’m sorry sir i won’t happen again.” Negan grinned devilishly, “oh i know it fucking won’t i’ll get the others to chain you to the fence.” Reagan walked over to him, “no Negan i want to do it my fucking self” Negan smiled at her “suit yourself Darlin.” Reagan walked to her room and grabbed up Damien, she put her jeans on and walked down the hall, down the stairs and into the courtyard outside. The sky was still dark and the walkers moans carried in the wind. Negan was next to the rapist and smirked at her, she swung her bat and hit him over the knees.

He fell to the floor, “no please, please don’t” he begged Reagan laughed “begging is only going to make it fucking worse.” Reagan hit him over the head with Damien, then she did it again and again and again and again. She kept hitting him until his brains were scrambled, blood was splattered all over her face, arms and legs. Negan had never seen someone exactly like him in a long time, his feelings were starting to grow for her. Reagan looked up at Negan and licked the blood off of her lips, it felt good taking her anger and pain out on someone like that. Blood was dripping from the bat along with brain matter and hair, Reagan was breathing heavily. “Come on Reagan let’s get you fucking cleaned up”, she followed him up to his room.

Reagan had a shower and walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a fluffy white towel. Negan was sitting on his couch, he looked over at her, so many dirty thoughts were going through his mind. Reagan had took a pair of lacy black panties from her room and put them on under the towel. “Puddin do you have something i could wear just for now?” Negan walked over to the chest of drawers in the corner. He opened the first drawer and took out one of his white t-shirts and handed to her.

Negan turned around to give her some privacy, Reagan took off her towel and put on the shirt Negan had given her. “You can turn around now plus i wouldn’t of fucking cared if you saw me” Negan turned around to face her. Negan moved closer to her “you should care because evil bastards like that fucker that you killed can take you and fucking sexually torture you.” Negan shuddered at the thought he was strongly against rape and he didn’t want to picture someone raping the girl that he was falling for. Reagan was starting to realise what a sweetheart Negan was, “well i do like it rough puddin.” Reagan was teasing him and she wanted to drive him crazy,

“oh don’t worry Darlin i am fucking rough.” Reagan closed the gap between them and grasped his hard dick through his jeans “you fucking wish daddy.” Negan had utter need in his eyes, they had only known each other for a day but he was falling for her quickly. Reagan let go of his dick and bit her lip “hey um can i sleep in here just…i don’t want to be alone.” Negan smiled down at her “of fucking coarse Darlin i just have to make sure Simon and Dwight fed that bastards body to the dead pricks.” Reagan nodded and watched him walk out of the room shutting the door behind him, Reagan looked at the clock on his bedside table.

The clock read three o’clock she lied on Negan’s bed and she fell asleep, Negan came back in to the room. He looked over at his bed and saw her fast asleep, he smiled and walked over to left side of his bed. He put Lucille against the head board and lied down next to Reagan but didn’t touch her. He pulled the blanket over them both and turned facing her back, he sighed quietly and closed his eyes. Reagan woke up the next morning, her arm was around Negan’s waist and her leg was over his. Reagan let go of his waist and moved her leg off of his, she sat on the edge of the bed, it did feel nice having someone to cuddle with in bed. “It’s ok Darlin i won’t fucking take this as a sign” Reagan looked over her shoulder at him.

“Good” she stood up and walked over to the door and left the room, she walked down to her room and shut the door behind her. She got dressed into a pair of jeans, a black shirt untucked, black combat boots with red roses on them and her hair in braids. As she was tying her laces she heard a loud knock at the door, she walked over to the door and opened it. Standing there was Negan smiling at her, “hey Reagan i was wondering if you wanted to have some dinner with me in the marketplace tonight.” “I mean you don’t fucking have to if you don’t want to” she smirked at him. “Ok puddin you’ve got yourself a fucking date what time?” Negan wet his bottom lip.

“Let’s say around about six thirty sound fucking good to you?” she smiled at him “yeah puddin sounds good i’ll see you then.” Negan turned on his heel swinging Lucille over his shoulder as he turned the corner down the hall. Reagan closed the door behind her, she leaned her back against the door. “You stupid bitch what are you doing? he is your enemy not your friend, your friends are back at Alexandria.”

But there was a part of her that was starting to like him, he liked her even a blind man could see that. But she knew she could never love anyone again right? then she thought maybe she could make him weak. Find out his weaknesses and his strengths to strike when the time was right, but a part of her thought otherwise. He had been nice to her and had given her a chance, maybe a date was a good idea. Her husband had told her before he died to move on to find someone that made her happy and that would protect her.

A part of Reagan knew that he was right she had to move on but could she? maybe she could. Reagan also knew that Negan was suffering the same pain that she was and she knew that after a while a person becomes numb from that pain. Negan thought about how Reagan resembled his Lucille, a beautiful woman with an attitude. But he also saw Reagan for Reagan not just Lucille, maybe she looked like her but she wasn’t her.

As Reagan lied on her bed she thought about what she was going to wear even though she knew she had nothing to wear. So she thought that she would wear what she was already wearing but she would do her hair in braids. She looked over at the clock beside her bed and it read five thirty “shit time flies” she whispered to herself. Reagan stood up from the bed and walked over to the on suite on the left side of the room. She reached around the wall and flipped on the light, she walked slowly over to the shower block. She opened the glass shower door and turned on the faucets.

She took off her shirt and threw to the floor she did the same with her jeans, panties and her bra. The water ran hot with was the perfect temperature for her so she got into the shower and closed the glass door. She sighed as the water ran over her skin, it had been a long time since she had a shower that hot. Reagan didn’t wash her hair but she stood under the shower for a good thirty minutes. She finally turned off the shower and opened the now fogged up glass door of the shower.

The mirror above the sink was fogged up as well, Reagan took the white towel off the hook on the back of the door. She wiped herself dry and picked up her clothes from the floor and opened the bathroom door. She turned off the light and walked over to the couch that was near the curtain draped windows. She unzipped her bag and took out a pair of lacy black panties and a matching bra, she put them on and put her jeans and t-shirt back on. She took out her hairbrush and walked back into the bathroom and did her hair in two braids into a ponytail.

She then sat on the couch and put a pair of socks on and put on her black combat boots, once she laced them up she walked over to her bed head. She put her sword on her back and she picked up Damien, when she looked over at the clock there came a soft knock at the door. She walked to the door and turned the knob and pulled it towards her, Negan stood before her. In his jeans, a white t-shirt, his leather jacket unzipped and holding Lucille over his shoulder. Negan grinned widely at her, his dimples sucking in, “you ready?” Reagan smirked at him and nodded. “You look fucking awesome by the way” his voice echoing off the walls as they walked side by side down the dimly lit hall.

Reagan felt her cheeks blush slightly at his comment “Negan i thought we were going to the marketplace for dinner.?” They were walking down the hall to Negan’s room, “i fucking cooked dinner for us both plus the marketplace is a little over crowded.” As they reached the dark wooden doors of Negan’s quarters he opened one of the doors and gestured for Reagan to go in first. As she walked in she could smell the tomato from the pasta sauce that was mixed with garlic. Reagan looked over near the black leather couch and there was a dark wooden table in the middle of the room.

There were two plates of spaghetti on either side of the table. Negan closed the door softly and set Lucille down on the couch, Reagan put Damien on the couch near Lucille. She then walked over to the table and hung her sword on the back of the wooden chair. “You like whiskey Reagan?” he asked as he walked over to a cherrywood cabinet. “Yeah i do” she said as he bent down and opened the cabinet door and pulled out a bottle of whiskey.

He then pulled out two glasses and walked over to the table, he put the glasses down on the table. Reagan sat down at the table as Negan unscrewed the cap of the bottle and poured some of the honey coloured liquor into one of the glasses. He walked over to the side of the table Reagan was sitting on and held out the glass. As she took the glass her hand lightly touched his making her blush slightly. He smiled at her his dimples sucking in “you think i can’t fucking see you blushing Darlin.?”

Negan poured himself a glass of whiskey before he sat at the table he unzipped his jacket exposing his white t-shirt. She started to eat the spaghetti as soon as she put it into her mouth she closed her eyes. “God this is good” she said opening her eyes and smiling over at him. Negan smiled a toothy grin “well it is my fucking signature dish Reagan” She looked at him with a smirk.

“You can call me Rae most of my friends do” she brushed a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “Oh so we’re fucking friends now are we?” he chuckled lightly, “yeah i guess we are” she said scrunching her nose. She took a quick nip from her glass of whiskey and went back to eating her dinner and she loved it like it was the first time she had tried it. “Is it ok if i call you puddin?” Reagan asked sweetly “yeah that’s fucking fine with me sugar” Negan replied smiling at her. They had both eaten their dinner rather quickly and had polished down the whiskey.

They had both moved over to the couch and they began passing the whiskey bottle between them. Reagan had taken off her boots and was in her socks and Negan had taken his boots off. They began talking about their lives before “what was your job?” Reagan asked after taking a swing of whiskey and handing the bottle to Negan. “I was a coach at a high school what about you?.” “I had three jobs i was a waitress, a bartender and to get extra money i was a stripper. But i quit that job after i met my husband but i will save my sad story for when i trust you more.” He took a swing from the whiskey bottle “I won’t tell you my sad story for the same reasons we have a deal?.”

Reagan rolled her eyes at him and smiled “ok deal” he handed her the bottle. “If anyone fucking harasses you you fucking tell me” Reagan laughed lightly. “I can handle myself i don’t need anyone protecting me especially you.” He looked at her with a serious expression “i know you can handle your fucking self but sometimes a man may be stronger than you think.”

“Ok, but Negan why would you want to protect me i only met you yesterday” he chuckled lightly. “Because i like ya i think you are cool as fucking shit at least you aren’t like my wives who complain all the fucking time.” Reagan didn’t think this man to be so sweet she expected him to take what he wanted from her or make her a wife. She thought a man like him would kill her or lock her in a cell like Daryl and she was having second thoughts about using him. What could’ve driven a man to kill her friends and be the man he was.

Then she remembered his bat, Lucille was his wife perhaps the pain of her death caused him to become what he was. Negan put the whiskey bottle down on the glass coffee table and got up from the couch. “Come on Darlin i‘ll take you to your room because you look fucking tired as shit.” Reagan got up from the couch and walked past him and took her sword off of the back of the chair and put it on her back. She also picked up her boots from the carpet.

LIKE AND REBLOG FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER!

#negan #negan x oc

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spacedrawn · 5 years ago

Text

A plan

Prompt: None. I’m simply fulfilling my title of angst king. And no, this is not all the angst I can do. It’s just a bit of it

Warnings: character death, slight mentions of torture, angst (lots of it)

Note: If there are spelling mistakes please excuse them it’s late and I’m hella tired rn

Dark sighed quietly, swirling the glass of wine in his hand. He glanced at the work on his desk but found that, no matter what, he couldn’t focus on it. Perhaps it was because today marked the day he’d lost everything. He frowned softly, hand growing still.

His mind began to remind him of what happened yet he couldn’t push the memories back. Instead, Dark relaxed into his office chair and let his mind recount the events.

Dark cracked his neck, the glass shattering as he did. He held his eyes shut for a moment, knowing exactly what he’d just done. It’s to protect them. His eyes opened and he stared at the mirror, not caring to try and focus his eyes on his reflection. Instead, he stared past it at the determined look of his old friend.

They didn’t realize it. Didn’t realize he’d just stolen their body. He lingered for a moment before snarling as he spun, storming away from the mirror. Dark could faintly hear his friend’s voice, demanding he return. Could hear them yelling his old name. But he trudged further into the manor. He did this to protect them. Right?

Dark tensed as he saw his old friend. He hadn’t expected to see them after all these years. How did they escape the mirror? Why are they hanging around Mark? Do they even remember him? He snapped out of his momentary daze, continuing his speech.

He could feel their eyes boring holes into him the whole time. He’d occasionally have to take a moment so he wouldn’t lunge at them and gather them into his arms. Dark wanted nothing more than to have them remember him. To have them back by his side except this time, as allies and not mayor and district attorney. Oh how he wanted to tell them what he couldn’t so long ago.

When he sent them back, Dark was left with a feeling of emptiness in his chest. It weighed heavy on him and made him choke up. Did they remember him? If they did why didn’t they say anything? Could they...? Or did the manor steal that ability from them.

The fear in their eyes as he yelled made his heart twist in agony. He didn’t want to scare them but he feared they were under Actor’s control. He had to try and break the possible control any way he could think of. Sadly, tricking them and yelling were ways he thought he could help.

Yet when they turned tail and managed to run out of his personal pocket in the void, he didn’t run after them. Dark instead stayed back and scolded himself. How could he be such a fool?!

His heart raced, staring with an unreadable expression at the Android. He gave a soft nod and exited his room, Google following suit. “Thank you. I will handle them. Make sure we are not interrupted.”

Dark had to hesitate before entering the living room. When he did, they were sitting there. They looked different but they were his old friend. He cleared his throat, walking over. “How did you find the manor?” He asked. Internally he scolded himself for asking such a stupid question.

They stood up from the couch, silently walking over. Their footsteps made not a sound against the wood, as if they were featherlight. They stopped right in front of him, staring at him with eyes that held no emotion.

Dark stumbled back, eyes widening. A hand came up to his cheek as he looked back at them. They’d punched him. They straight up punched him. He blinked owlishly, breathing a bit uneven.

“That’s for stealing my corpse and lying to me Damien.”

Dark snapped out of his thoughts. After that sentence they’d gone on to yell at him, landing a few more hits in fury. They kept asking him why. Why he betrayed them. Why he lied. Why he left them in that cursed mirror. Why he didn’t even go back to see if they were still alive. The whole time he’d been silent, a part of him feeling he deserved the yelling and hits.

Them. His old friend and district attorney. The one currently in Dr. Iplier’s medical wing. The one who’d been there for the past week.

He frowned and downed the rest of the wine as he stood. He could work later. Dark felt the utter need to go see them. Something dark settled in his chest that made him fill to the brim with anxiety. It forced him to an almost run but he composed himself. He didn’t want any of the egos to worry let along ask why he was running.

Dark stepped through the double doors leading to the medical wing. He passed the reception and Dr. Iplier’s office. The blinds were up and the doctor gave him a brief glance before returning to his work. Dark felt internally glad the doctor didn’t come out to ask him what he needed. He didn’t want to tell him about the worry in his chest that seemed to clamp a hand around his throat and make it hard to breath.

He gently opened the door to their room and slipped inside, shutting it once more. He had to take a moment to calm his nerves before he walked over. He winced at the sight of their bandaged form. Dark could recall finding them in Actor’s clutches, wounded and unconscious. Could recall Actor’s taunting voice as he spun a knife dripping red around his hand. He didn’t think he’d ever killed Actor’s new body so quick before.

He sighed and pulled the chair closer to the bed before sitting down. Dark gently took their hand in his, frowning softly. His cold thumb ran across their knuckles, the other holding their hand gently. Dr. Iplier had done everything he could to heal the wounds but had explained it was simply a matter of waiting left. Host had come in soon after, using his narration to try and speed up their recovery. He couldn’t wake them though.

Dark shook, pressing their hand to his forehead. He tried to suppress the tears that rose to his eyes as best he could but they soon escaped. He shut his eyes, hoping he could will them awake despite knowing that wouldn’t work. He knew he was crying but he didn’t care. All he cared about right now was hearing them wake up.

He lifted his head, frowning. “I wish I could have told you how much you meant to me before this. Before everything. Back when you still held ownership over your own body. Back when you were still my district attorney and I was still...Damien.” Dark’s voice grew incredibly soft at the mention of his old name. He sighed softly.

“Yet I never could. I was always so shy and reserved. I worried that if I said something I’d push you away. That’s the last thing I wanted to do. So I stayed silent.” He frowned, watching the heart monitor now. He couldn’t bare to look at them. “I pushed you into that mirror hoping to keep you safe. I didn’t know it’d hurt you so much. Didn’t know it’d show you your fears. I thought it would be a safe heaven.”

Dark suddenly frowned. “Yet...I never returned. Never returned to see if you were still alive. Never returned to see if you were still around. I never even thought of returning to see you. How cruel can I be?” Dark’s eyes dart to their hand now. “I lied to you, broke your trust. I didn’t tell you the whole truth of what letting me and Celine in would do. And then I left you. Alone.”

He trembled weakly, heart sinking. “I wish this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe if I’d done something more. Reached out to Mark more often. Done more. Maybe then he wouldn’t have turned into such a monster.” Dark’s eyes land finally on them. He took in the details of their face. Sure they held a few cuts here and there but they were still wonderful. His heart raced a moment before he frowned.

“Maybe if I did more I could have kept you safe from Actor. Made sure he didn’t hurt you. I pushed you away and Actor saw the chance to hurt you. I wasn’t there to protect you because I thought keeping you away from me would keep you safe. Yet look at you now. Wounded and unconscious and I can’t do anything to help.” Dark had to rub the tears from his eyes as they began to blur his vision.

“I promise when you wake up I’ll make this right. I’ll help you figure out whatever the manor has ‘gifted’ to you. If it gave me my abilities and Wilford his then it has to have given you some. I’ll make things right. Make sure I stop shoving you away.” He paused a beat and spoke in a softer tone. “I’m going to tell you how much you mean to me old friend. You deserve to know that after everything. You deserve to know how much I love you.”

A shrill, steady beep broke the silence.

Dark’s head snapped to the monitor and he froze. No. No no no no!! He set their hand back before slamming out of the room. He dashed down the hall and into Dr. Iplier’s office. He didn’t have to say a word as the doctor made his own dash down the hall to the room. “Get Marvin.” Was all the doctor said.

The entity immediately teleported to the septic manor. He was quick to locate Marvin, grabbing his wrist before teleporting back to the hall. “Marvin in here!” Called Dr. Iplier. The magician, despite being a bit confused, dashed in. He could hear the steady beep even from outside the hall and he knew something was wrong. That was enough incentive.

Dark shook, eying the door to their room. He felt the same hand from before wrap around his throat, squeezing and making it hard to breath. His aura flickered wildly but he didn’t care. All he cared about right now was them.

They had to be okay. That had to. They were strong. They couldn’t die. Please. He couldn’t bare to loose another. Dark was sure he’d break entirely if he lost them.

Not an hour later and Dr. Iplier exited the room. He jumped a bit, seeing Dark still standing in the hall. He didn’t except to see him there. A part of him wanted to have Dark sit down but he knew there was no point. The ego wouldn’t move. The doctor sighed, running a hand through his hair. He gave a shake of his head, frowning deeply. Tears pooled in his vision and blurred it. When he next blinked, Dark was no longer in the hall.

Dark had teleported to his study, collapsing immediately to his knees. No. No no no. Please no. Not them too. His vision swam as hot tears rushed down his face but he didn’t care.

They were gone.

They were gone and he couldn’t do anything about it. Dark let out a shrill cry, his aura glaring and sapping the colours from his study. He sobbed as he hung his head, shaking and trembling. They were gone. He buried his hands in his hair, crying out their name. He wanted them back. They couldn’t be gone. They couldn’t be. They were stronger than that. Yet he knew, deep within him, that they were gone.

Dark cried out, shaking and sobbing on his knees. He trembled and shook his head. No. Please god no. He couldn’t—couldn’t handle it. Please no. Not them. Take him instead.

Six months. It took the egos six months after their funeral to see Dark again. Wilford and Dr. Iplier were the only ones who saw him in that time frame. The next time he emerged from his room, there was an empty coldness to him. His aura was a bit more chaotic, flaring blue more often than before. He’d been in the dining room first and had called for a meeting with every ego, not just the ones at the meetings usually.

Dark was standing this time. Wilford had taken his usual spot, knowing full well Dark could handle this. He also knew he had to let the suites ego lead this meeting on his own. The pink moustached male was oddly silent and it mildly intimidated the others. But they knew they didn’t have to worry about him or the one standing. They knew what this was about.

And so Dark laid out the plans to hunt down Actor and kill him. He laid it out plain and simple, making sure everyone was clear on their particular and unique roll to the plan. He was furious, the egos could tell, but he’d started the meeting saying he wasn’t mad at any of them. Far from it. He knew they all cared for them too.

They’d been at the manor for about three years before their death and had built a wonderful relationship with them all. They held a special place in the heart of every ego.

The egos had listening intently the whole time, no one speaking over another. They were furious in their own ways as well. They wanted justice for their friend and were more than willing to help kill Actor.

Dark was going to make sure they brought Actor to his knees and killed him once and for all. For them and for everyone else affected by the actor.

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crimsondustofficial · 3 years ago

Text

New Allies

A broad, navy ripped jean covered leg dangled off of the rooftop of an old, abandoned, office building. A low hum escaped Damien as he gazed upon the city before him. The scarlet red skies darkened the area above and all over Hell. Considering the fact that the place wasn't all sunshine and sweetness with everything nice mixed into the blend.

Looking down beside him was Ruby, her small honey, golden blonde locks of hair wavering in the wind in a gentle and slow dance, her small legs kicking back and forth in a relaxed tempo. Anex sat down beside her, holding his adorable little angel fox while Daisy sat next to him, panting and being the same happy little puppy she always has been.

"Damien?" Hearing that tone in Ruby's kind, childish voice, the tall, African male directed his attention down to the small girl resting beside him.

"What is it, Little Rose?"

Ah, the nicknames. Ruby had gotten a few nicknames from everyone at the Hotel and she wore those labels like they were badges of honor.

Husk's nicknames for her are 'Kid/ Kiddo'. 'Moonflower' and 'Little one' were nicknames from Alastor. Charlie and Vaggie's nicknames for Ruby were the usual 'Sweetie/Sweetheart'. Niffty would call her 'Baby bird' and 'Little gem'. To top it all off, Angel called her 'Sweetness' and 'Precious'. All those names, Ruby didn't care if anybody made fun of her nicknames.

Speaking of which, she really missed everyone at the Hotel.

'They must be worried sick about me. . .'

"Am I. . .Am I the only human down here?"

Now, that's a question that Damien nor Anex didn't really know the answer to. From the many Demons he's come across, the only people resembling anything close to Humans were the Magne family.

At least, when their Demon forms weren't out. But aside from King Lucifer and his family, Ruby was the only real Human down in this death trap of a city. "That's a question I can't really answer, Kid. I mean, aside from King Lucifer and his family, they're the only thing that's close to resembling a Human. When they don't go full Demon on you."

Ruby averted her eyes to the side before feeling a gentle arm wrap around her shoulder, pulling her into a strong, warm and calming scent body.

"But Human or not, you're you. Nobody can take that away from you."

Feeling soft, caring fingers go through the locks of her short hair, Ruby hugged her plush bear to her chest. But the words replayed over and over in her head as she felt a small smile stretch onto her face.

Looking up at the sound of wings, Damien and Anex caught sight of a familiar set of red, casino styled wings.

"Husk!" The Anthropomorphic Cat Demon landed on the rooftop as Ruby got up and ran over to him, nearly knocking him over in a hug. Hesitant at first, the desk clerk and bartender of the Hotel, held the small child close.

"And here I thought I might never find you. Nearly gave everybody back at the Hotel a scare, Kiddo."

Both Anex and Damien stood up, Husk looking over at both of them. To be honest, Anex felt a little sad that she had to leave so soon. But he knew that she had a family to go back to. Hopefully, he could see her again...

"Poor kid got lost. Nearly attacked by a trio of bastards in an alleyway. Did what anybody would've done."

Husk scooped Ruby up as his wings unfolded, getting ready to take off again and get on back to the Hotel. Otherwise, Husk might have to tell Vaggie or Charlie why it took him so long, even though they were probably out looking for Ruby as well.

"I'll let the Princess know who saved her. Thanks again, you two." Getting a nod from Damien and a gentle wave from Anex as well as a happy and calm bark from Daisy, Husk took off to the skies, the wind beginning to blow a bit of a picked up pace. Looking back at that same time rooftop, Anex and Damien were gone.

"I'm sorry, Husk. . ."

Looking down at Ruby, the sharp claw like fingers rubbed soothing circles up and down Ruby's small back. 'Poor kid must feel guilty for giving everyone quite a scare. . .'

"S'not your fault, Kiddo. You just got lost is all. 'M just glad that you didn't get killed by those troublemakers in the alleyway. It was a good thing that those two found you when they did. Otherwise, you'd be Demon target practice by now."

With the Hotel in sight, Husk's wings began flapping to get a smooth landing. Ruby's low heel dress shoes tapped the ground when she was placed down on her feet once again.

"Better head inside. Who knows if Princess and the others are back yet." Holding Husk's hand, Ruby returned back into the home that she had made over the last two weeks. Charlie and Vaggie were nowhere to be seen but the sight of the Radio Demon caught Ruby's attention.

"Ruby, my little moonflower! Thank Goodness you're safe."

Bending down, Alastor's burgundy gloved hands with hot pink at the fingertips, tousled Ruby's locks of hair in a loving manner as the small child hugged his knees. Husk in the meantime, retreated to behind the bar and resumed his duty from before.

"Yo Al, Where's Princess?"

The Radio Demon side glanced at Husk a quick second before diverting his attention back to Ruby.

"Charlie had left a little while after I came back. She and Vaggie went to go look for the little one. May I ask, who found her?"

That guilt kept eating away at Ruby. She made everyone worry about her and she couldn't call for help or ask for them to come get her. "A couple of guys. They found the kid in an alleyway, nearly about to end up in a body bag."

As grim as it sounded, it was the truth. Husk took a silent breath before continuing.

Well, I'm sure they'll be happy to see her. Is Legs still here?"

Hearing the mention of Angel's nickname from Husk, Ruby chewed on her lower lip a bit. Since she had grown close to the Adult star the two weeks she had been here, hearing Angel being a nervous wreck killed Ruby on the inside.

"Angel? Hmm. . .From what I recall, he's been up in his room for a while now."

Looking back down at Ruby, Alastor then scooped her up into his arms and began walking off, upstairs to her room. "Now then, my dear. I'd advise you to get yourself cleaned up. Want to look presentable for when the others come back."

Placing her down on her own two feet once they were up to the second floor, Ruby gave a soft wave to Alastor before disappearing into her room. Alastor gave a wave back before vanishing back downstairs to stick around and let Charlie and Vaggie know that Ruby is back in the hotel safe and sound.

Quickly cleaning herself up from the dirt and remnants of the old apartment and the alleyway, Ruby readjusted her hot pink bow and gave a small smile of satisfaction to her reflection in the mirror. It felt good to be clean again but it'll be even better to see Angel and the others again.

Quietly opening and closing her door, Ruby immediately stopped when seeing a pair of long, fashionable boots. Looking up, she was met with the shocked face of Angel Dust. Ruby held her bear close to her heart as she gave him a sweet, innocent little smile.

"Hi, Angel-"

Ruby had been caught off when she was immediately picked up and held close to the spider film star, her sky, baby blue eyes dilated a tiny bit. The grip that Angel had on her was tight but not bone crushing tight.

"A Angel?"

#Crimson Dust #hazbin hotel

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plaguedparadox · 7 years ago

Text

Whispers in the Dark - Chapter Thirteen

A New Roommate

A few weeks went by before any of the egos, apart from Anti, showed up at my flat so it was quite the surprise when I opened my door after coming back from a small job, that Wilford had told me to do via text, to see practically all the egos that showed up to meetings just resting in my living room.

I looked around, rather confused to see a dishevelled Dark peaking out at me from the doorway that lead to my bedroom, I quickly ran off to his side. “What’s going on?” I just managed to ask him before he pulled me into my room and shut the door behind me.

“They just followed me here.” Dark groaned out before collapsing onto my bed. “William’s on the warpath, something I haven’t seen in quite a few decades and I’m in agony.” He stated before shifting onto his front. A sigh sounded out from him before he used his shadows to sneak into my ensuite and steal some meds from my medicine cabinet. I raised my eyebrows at his behaviour, not used to him acting so human but shrugged it off and sat gently down by the headboard, my gaze falling to the vase which held the 12 red roses which seemed to refuse to die.

Dark sat up to take the painkillers before shifting so his back was also resting on the headboard. “Why are you here?” I asked while letting my head fall on his shoulder so it didn’t feel like I was just a moment away from falling off of my bed. My face became coated with a blush when the demon laid his arm across my shoulders, pulling me into him further.

He was silent for a moment before he spoke. “I wanted to talk to you about me moving in for a bit, get some time away from the other egos. That, and I want to keep Anti in line. Who knows what that damned creature might do.” He explained, pulling me even closer as he spoke. When he finished he lifted my head gently so I was looking up at him. “I won’t get in the way.” He promised with a slight purr in his voice, a small cheeky smile curling at the edges of his lips. “Well, unless you want me to that is.” I cursed mentally at myself as I felt my cheeks flare up once again, making my attraction to the man obvious.

It wasn’t fair that he gained Damien’s way with words as it meant he knew exactly what to say to make me putty in his hands.

A chuckle left his lips before he pulled me down to lie next to him, grunting under his breath in pain as he did so. “This feels right…” He mumbled as he pulled me onto his chest.

“It’s not like I really have a choice in this...” I grumbled as I tried to speak through his shirt. The demon under me chuckled at my attempt to talk and made a sound that I could only interpret as him agreeing with my statement. I groan slightly at the fact I’d be stuck with the man but I suppose he’d bring a bit of order to the chaos that followed Anti.

I wasn’t really sure as to how long I was in there laying on Dark but we did eventually move when he teleported us to the front room once we heard a lot of shouting. Turns out Anti thought it would be an amazing idea to threaten to revert Google’s updates and make him glitch out once again and wouldn’t explain why he threatened him when Dark confronted him. A sigh left my lips when Anti ran behind me to use me as a shield as he knew that the Iplier egos wouldn’t harm me.

I didn’t need to look behind me to know that the imp had a shit-eating grin stretched across his face. “Get away from her and act like an adult, will you?” Dark hissed out, stepping close to me as an attempt to get in Anti’s face without having to rip me out of the way because Anti’s arms were wrapped tightly around my waist. I believe that fact is making Dark much more hostile towards the thing. Celine chirped seeming rather happy that Dark’s confrontation was against the creature she showed obvious disdain for. “Let go of her.” The demon growled, his shadows beginning to coat the walls of my home.

“Why the fuck should I? She’s my lovely roommate and I’m just hugging her.” Anti stated, his cockiness even more evident but his ego was quickly shot at once Dark’s own cocky grin spread across his lips.

A low chuckle sounded out before Dark had his shadows rip Anti’s arms off of me. The monochrome man proceeded to wrap his own arms around me and pull me close to him, thankfully not commenting on my flushed face. “Funnily enough, she’s my roommate too. So, you better start taking what I say with at least some seriousness considering we’re going to be living under the same roof.” Dark’s voice echoed with the same confidence that he seemed to radiate almost constantly.

The rest of the egos made various noises of shock, Google speaking up to state how Dark living with me would be inefficient and would not help with their primary objective at all but Dark’s attention was on keeping Anti away from me as the two started to argue about who got to hold me. The vast range of voices were slowly ingraining a headache that I hope to get away from. A small growl worked its way up my throat as I tried to focus on pulling myself away from the cuddly demon.

I made my way to the middle of the room glancing at all the arguing egos as I walked, stopping to stand on my metal coffee table. I was more than glad that I made sure I bought something that was strong. The Host made his way through the crowd of egos and sat down on the sofa, already aware of what was about to happen thanks to his amazing foresight. I knew the only way for all the egos to listen was a meeting, I had been to enough.

I take a deep breath before I cup my hands around my mouth and announce: “SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN!” something which was quick to gain everyone’s attention. Dark sat down in my armchair while Anti took the chair the opposite end of the room. The other egos either sat on the sofa or on the floor if they weren’t quick enough to gain a proper seat, the sight of all of them listening to me caused a small sigh of relief to leave me. “Thank you.” I start before stepping off of the coffee table and going to sit on the arm of my armchair, trying my best to ignore the demon who now had his arm around my waist. “I understand that this is… inconvenient.. for most of you as it means you won’t have one of your leaders close at hand but he does have a phone. I mean for goodness sakes, you’re adults please act like it to at least some degree.

“And Anti, while I understand that you don’t like Dark and are used to being the only other thing living with me you need to understand that you can’t just claim me or think you have an excuse to act certain ways just because I’m letting you live here.

“I am fully aware that it’s out of the blue, I only just found out about all of this today, but that doesn’t mean we can lose sight of who we are as people. Also, all of you talking at once was giving me a major headache which is something that Wilford and Sean can’t do even at their loudest.” That last sentence made almost everyone’s head fall in what was most likely shame, the only ones to seem okay with what I said was the Host and of course Dark and Anti.

A few hours went by before Dark disappeared with the main egos, claiming he needed to speak to the other egos that didn’t follow him to explain why he wouldn’t be around as often which left Anti and I alone.

The green-tinted imp was keeping himself busy in his room which was just a small walk up the stairs from the main flat. A sigh left my lips as I reflected on the sour look that was glued to his face since Dark announced that he’d be moving in, I didn’t want Anti to hate me for giving in to the demon’s wishes. I slowly made my way up the stairs, using the added time to think about what I needed to say to make the situation less bitter to the Irishman, he was my friend after all.

Sounds of humming caught my attention. I had never known Anti to sing, or even listen to music so it was a first for me. I slowly opened the door, thankful that the landlord kept the door hinges oiled as it silently slid open revealing Anti fiddling with a broken monocle, his hair slicked back slightly as he sat calmly at the bottom of his bed. I watched as the imp sighed, placing the eyepiece down before messing his hair up. “I know you’re there. I can hear your heartbeat...” His voice trailed off as he tried to keep back the glitches that distorted it. “I… I guess have some explaining to do, huh? You asked a while back why I was so protective of you, right? That’s because you’re my best friend. My precious Songbird. I lost you once and I don’t want to lose you again… You’re all I had.

“You and the other Septic egos are all I have left and I feel as if… I’m losing you to Dark. You don’t come home bitching about him anymore, you actually seem to enjoy his presence! I can’t lose you to him again!” He admitted, his voice glitching out as he reached the end of his sentence. He proceeded to rant about everything and anything which caused me to zone out for most of it.

Once my mind zoned in I froze at what he was ranting about. “And it’s always about Damien! I understand your need to feel love but what about your best friend? But no, once it comes to romance you never consider Jameson, you’re too in love with the mayor! Why do you have to be so in love with him?!” Anti, or should I say Jameson as he let slip, growled as he paced in front of me. My mind thought back to the dapper man I met when Henrik showed up to yell at Anti, there was no way Jameson and Anti were the same person, my mind just couldn’t link the two together. But it did explain that memory. I thought as I made my way out of the room, leaving the imp to cool off as it was clear that anything I said would just inflame his temper further.

I laid in the middle of a random field in the middle of nowhere, courtesy of Celine, trying to gather my thoughts about what I had learnt at home. I small groan left my lips as I felt another headache starting to form. Celine had decided it was best to stay quiet, most likely happy that the truth had come to light.

A shadow that decided to loom over me broke me from my thoughts. “You okay there, partner?” The detective’s voice sounded out as he sat down next to me. “You seemed pretty lost in thought there.” He stated as he held out a hand to help me sit up, an offer I accepted as my back was starting to hurt under the hard ground.

“At least I don’t say my thoughts aloud, Abe.” I tease, tapping the man’s nose playfully causing him to blush as he realised what I meant. Abe chuckled nervously before asking why I was there. “Well, I was just found out my roommate is someone I believed to be dead. My best friend.” I had grown to accept that I used to be the DA, allowing our memories to mix more each day under the careful gazes of the siblings.

Abe leaned back into his hands which he placed behind him, making a sound which indicated he was thinking before he looked at me again. “You mean Jameson Jackson, right? Wasn’t he your assistant back then?” I sigh and nod. “Huh, how is he still alive?” Abe asked, his head tilting as he did.

I was about to say something when I actually began to think about it, I didn’t know how James became Anti. I just know that he did. All I remembered was James’s scared screams at the same time I was released from my prison so between then and now he became the creature I knew today. I look away for a moment before shrugging. “All I know is that he became Anti.” I told the detective, having no reason to lie to him. Abe’s eyebrows creased in confusion before shrugging it off himself.

The detective stood up and pulled me up with him, causing me to end up in a small daze. Abe threw me a smile before asking if I wanted to get some coffee as he walked in the direction of what I guessed was the city he had come from. I run after him, looping my arm around his so I could keep up with his fast pace as I agreed to his offer. I had been in that field for a good few hours simply because I couldn’t figure out where I was. Guess that’s just what happens when a spirit teleports you without a specific goal in mind. I jab jokingly at the red spirit, a smile growing on my face when I swore I heard a certain blue spirit starts to laugh.

Oh, shush, at least I got you somewhere away from there. And I didn’t even know I could do that! Celine said defensively as her orb floated close behind me

Once we reached the cafe Abe was greeted happily by the baristas that were currently on shift and I joke with the detective about how popular he seemed to be, he jokingly shushed me while rolling his eyes as he lead me to a booth before he went over to the baristas and ordered. A small chuckle left my lips and I sat down in the booth which I guessed he claimed for whenever he visited the shop. Abe came back shortly after with two disposable cups and place one in front of me.

About three cups later the two of us were chatting away happily when a sudden pink puff of smoke alerted me to Wilford’s presence. “Old chap, I need your help with something!” The pastel man chirped out, his eyes shut as he beamed at me. My eyes drifted over to my companion to see that his jaw had dropped. Well, I think it’s safe to say he recognises Wil. I thought as Celine gave a sound that let me know she agreed with me. “Now, why are you-” Wilford cut himself off as he opened his eyes and noticed the company I held.

“YOU.” The pair of them chanted at the same time as they both proceeded to pull their guns out on each other. A groan left my throat as I watched the familiar scene play out. Celine’s nervous laughter sounded out causing my focus to land on her. This is ridiculous. I thought, gaining a genuine laugh from the seer. Agreed but there’s nothing we can do apart from taking their guns from them.

“Well, at least there isn’t a balcony this time.” I muttered accidentally catching their attention as they both chanted: “Too soon!” causing my hands to fly up in defence. “It was over 50 years ago…” I grumble before walking over and taking their guns from them, ignoring their complaints as I left the cafe with their weapons held firmly in my hands. The pair were quick to follow me as I made my way back to the field, already well aware that very few people walked through there so privacy wouldn’t be an issue.

I really should have thought this through. I thought as I watched the detective run after the reporter but the ex-military man was predictably far too fast for the man as Wil practically ran rings around him. It would have been funny if it were any other two people but these two hated each other, and for good reason. We had been there for hours or so Celine told me after her orb rushed off in the direction of the city before coming back with some food for me, it was just a good thing that the two didn’t notice food floating towards me.

The sun began to set as I watched over the two men with seemingly never-ending amounts of energy. Shades of orange, pink and red stained the blue sky as the sun slowly made its plunge towards the horizon line. My face scrunched up in discomfort as the colours began to blur together, my vision losing its focus more and more as time went on.

I lifted my head up to see an unfamiliar sight. I knew I had never been in this field before as I stood up from my place in the tall grass, accidentally catching the attention of the two men in the distance. One man was easy for me to recognise, he was the detective that I was the unwilling partner to. The other man, after changing the pastel colours to the military colours I was used to him wearing, was recognisable as the Colonel.

I was certainly happy to see the pair but the sight of Abe chasing after the Colonel practically made my blood freeze as I recalled how I died. I was just glad to be on the ground and that they had no guns in sight. I shake my head gently before looking over to the man who stepped out of the shadows which curled across the ground.

Damien? My thoughts called as I recognised the suited man almost instantly. Damien made his way towards me, a confident look on his face as his eyes met mine. My heart dropped slightly once I noticed his eyes lacking life. I had hoped that he fought the demon and won, only keeping the demon’s grey complexion due to the fact he was in a dead body but I knew that life wasn’t that kind as I looked up at him. “Are you alright, my dear?” His purr made my heart skip a beat much to my disgust.

“Don’t you dare speak to me, demon.” I cursed, backing away from him. Something cold hitting the back of my shoeless feet alerted me to the pistols on the ground.

The damned creature had the nerve to tilt his head in confusion. “What?” He muttered before shaking his head. “Sunshine, cut it out. It’s me. It’s Dark. I thought we got passed the whole you hating me thing.” He grumbled, making my face contort in distaste as he dared to utter my beloved’s name for me. I turn away to try and gain composure before making it seem as I was stretching, sneakily picking up one of the firearms that laid by my discarded flats. When I stood back up I paid attention to what the demon was saying again. “Darling, please. Just look at me.” He pleaded, his tone coated with false warmth but I could tell that his anger was rising.

“Go to hell!” I state as I put my flats back on my feet. I hid the firearm between the waistband of the weird trousers I wore and used the cardigan to cover it up further. I tried to move away from the spot but my wrist was grabbed harshly and soon I found my face far too close to the demon’s for my liking. Granted he may look like my darling but it just made my disgust for the creature greater.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He shouted, his voice warping as he spoke. A strange ringing sound filled the air as his shadows grew and consumed our surroundings. “Did you just forget about all the progress we made?!” He exclaimed, his grip proceeding to get tighter and tighter on my poor wrist as versions of him broke off in red and blue, seemingly screaming in agony and anger, before disappearing a moment later. “Dammit! I thought you actually liked me, Sunshine!” He called out, angering me more. I growled and muttered under my breath for him not to call me Sunshine. “Oh, I’m sorry. What was that, Sunsh-” The sound of a gun firing cut him off, the impact causing his grip to loosen and eventually disappear entirely as he fell to the ground, weirdly with tears and heartbreak in his eyes. His hand reached towards me weakly but I moved so he couldn’t touch me.

I announce to him that he, the demon in who stole my body and dared to wear my love’s face, deserved it before walking away, trying to find my way home. I was unsure of how much time passed before I found myself in front of a dilapidated version of my beloved’s home. I quickly rushed into the building, blocking off the door as a pounding pain and odd feeling of anguish filled my body.

I made sluggishly made my way to Damien’s once pristine office, sitting down in his old chair as I contemplated what I did, ignoring the pointless tears streaming down and staining my face.

I shot him. I actually shot him.

I shot Dark.

#whispers in the dark #darkiplier #x reader #wkm fanfiction #wkm fanfic #wkm #who killed markiplier #who killed markiplier fanfiction #fanfic #long post

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starryvioletnight · 7 years ago

Text

Mending a Broken Heart pt. 1/3

Summary: Based off this post. @xdamienplier Enjoy~

The realization that girls held no attraction for him came when Damien was a senior in high school. The realization that he found men far more appealing came years later, and was made worse when he realized he loved both of his best friends.

Mark and William were step brothers, and both were incredibly handsome. Both had loud personalities, sweet smiles and gentle eyes. Mark was more mischievous, a successful actor, and a man who didn’t want the party to end. William was just as rambunctious, more loyal than his step-brother, and was hoping to pursue a career in the military. Hanging out with them was difficult, especially if they weren’t all three together. Damien thought he was going to explode.

When William left for military service, Damien saw that as his sign. While he preferred the company of William, and would even want to spend the rest of his life with him, Damien figured it was a long shot. Mark was an actor. Surely he’d been around, right? Maybe that left him with more of an open mind.

Damien approached the door with as much confidence as he could muster. Yes, yes he loved his friend. Yes, Mark would probably reject him. Damien could take it. Mark would make it quick.

He knocked on the door, hands trembling.

Damien could do this. He could do it. His heart was pounding in his ears, and he was almost dizzy from all the adrenaline running through his body. No turning back now.

The door knob twisted, and the door opened to reveal to Damien a Mark dressed in a loosely tied robe. His hair and chest was glistening with water droplets. He’d probably just gotten out of the shower. “Hey Damien.”

Damien was beet red, looking at the flowers beside the door immediately. “Mark! Why aren’t you dressed properly? What if I’d been a woman coming to call?” He sputtered quickly.

“I saw you through the window.” Mark said dismissively, grinning that stellar smile he was known for. “I’m glad you came by. There was something I wanted to ask you about.” He turned around and walked back into the house.

Damien was hot on his heels, closing the door behind him. He was dizzy, and his cheeks were still hot. When he joined Mark in the den, the man was sitting with his legs spread on the couch, the robe barely covering him. Damien decided to study the paintings instead if focusing on him. He needed to remain sensible. Thinking of… that, would do no good right now. He poured himself a glass of scotch. “So, what’s on your mind?” He asked, hoping hearing Mark’s question would put his nerves at ease.

“Well… its embarrassing.” Mark confessed. Damien nodded. He turned around to face Mark, holding eye contact the entire time.

“Whatever you have to say, Mark, you can tell me.” Damien told him with a smile.

Mark nodded and sighed. “Well… I’ll just come out and say it.” He locked eyes with Damien. “I… I’m in love with Celine.”

Damien couldn’t comprehend what was being said. He felt his chest tighten and his stomach sink. His mind went completely blank.

“I-I’m sorry?” Damien stammered. “Could you… could you say that again?”

“See? I told you! Embarassing.” Mark groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Yes… I love Celine. I have for a while. I’ve been wanting to ask her on a date, but I figured I should ask your permission.”

Damien was shocked into silence. He didn’t know how to reply. Every urge he had when he’d walked into the Manor dissipated. Even seeing Mark stretched out with his robe on and nothing else, Damien only felt disappointment.

“You two are grown, I don’t see why you would need to ask my opinion.” He tried to sound light, as if the conversation wasn’t tearing him apart.

“Well, you’re one of my closest friends!” Mark jumped to his feet. “And Celine is your sister. I want to know that, no matter what happens, we’ll still be friends.”

Damien tried not to flinch at the word ‘friends’. It was wrong of him to try and hope for more. Instead, he smiled as wide as he could. “Of course we will be.”

“Great! Now, what was it you wanted to ask me?” Mark asked, grinning that stupid grin of his.

Damien shook his head. “I don’t really remember. You distracted me with the question about Celine.” He lied quietly. “I should be getting home now, Mark.”

“What? Don’t want to stay and have fun? We could play a round of pool.” Mark offered.

Damien plastered on a smile and shook his head. “No, no I need to be getting home. Thank you, though. And good luck with Celine.” He said as he made his way for the exit.

He took the long way going home. When he got there, he was met with the sight of his sister on the couch.

“You okay, Damien?” She asked, worry in her tones. “You look… distressed.”

Damien kept smiling. “It’s been a long day.” He answered, before retiring to his room. Once alone with the door closed, he tended to his aching heart.

#damien the mayor #the mayor #actor mark #asshole mark #celine the seer #markiplier fanfiction #mending a broken heart chapter 1

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cynergy-laughter · 7 years ago

Text

The Great Margarescue Part 2

The Rose

By: Brendon Cetinkaya(@cynergy-laughter) Word Count: 2135

(Reader’s Discretion is Advised: This contains scenes of horror, misgendering, and different various triggers. If you are easily triggered by misgendering, graphic horrific scenes, and scary situations, or are extra empathetic, this is not for you to read.)

You were running for what seemed to be hours, twists and turns kept on making you anxious because you felt like someone or something was gonna jump out and kill you. You pant as you near a crossroads passage and you look both ways and up ahead. You pant some more, thinking you heart was gonna jump out your chest and keep on running, thankfully you were a bit used to it because of Craig. But suddenly you stop breathing, why? Because you heard… a giggle. A tiny, sinister giggle, coming from both sides. You look to your left and saw Chrisitan, but he was smiling unrealistically wide and his eyes were pitch black.

“Come play with us…” He said chuckling menacingly.

“I’m sure we can have a lot of fun.” A higher pitched voice tittered to your right. You slowly and reluctantly look to your right and see Christie with the same smile and dark eyes.

“The harvest is coming…” They said in unison. You now felt dumb that you had made them play along with the lines you made them repeat, because in this situation, your nightmare was just beginning. They step closer to you, creating a pincer attack, leaving you with only two options, die, or run forward. They tilt their heads to the side, hearing their neck bones cracking and echoing in your soul as they stepped closer, you suddenly break into a run on the path in front of you, hearing them running behind you, their two pairs of feet echoing loudly over your heavyset Dad footsteps. Your head ringed with the hair-raising cackle that those two demons emitted.

“I’m sure we can tenderize his tired body before we feast~.” Christian voice echoed as you kept running.

“We can season him well… with SPIDERS!!” Christie shrieked the last two words that made her sound like a laughing witch, you were more terrified than the time you watched Poltergiest.

“We’re heeeEEEEEREEEEE…” They say in unison, great those two can read minds too?!

You kept on running and before long after a few turns, you saw a door with a rose insignia on it. You run to it, trying to twist the door open, looking back to see the two little children from down the lane running at you like they were from the Grudge. You finally open the door and went inside, shutting the door. From outside, the rose insignia shone red, and the two hellions hissed and bared their teeth, not going close to the door and eventually retreating…

Your eyes shot open and you jerk upward, feeling grass all around you. You got up and dusted yourself off, and took a look at your surroundings which was hard when the sun was in your face… wait, the sun? You shade your eyes and see that you’re in a garden, a garden of roses. Red, Yellow, Blue, Deep Violet, Black, White every color and hue of the rainbow, it was a sight to behold. You walk through the path, admiring the garden, but then suddenly got a thought about Damien. Oh god, please don’t let Damien be in here… You pick up speed, going through the rose garden, and you eventually hear someone humming. The song sounds very familiar as you race through the rose hedges. You keep hear the humming stop as you keep on going, and then there is an argument.

“Danni, why did you go through this operation?” A male voice asked.

“Terrence, my name is Damien, and I went through it because I wanted to be who I feel inside.” Damien’s voice said.

“What does our son think of this?”

“He loves me just the way I am, and he doesn’t need someone who was never there to tell him otherwise.”

“If you wanted to be… this... then why did you have a child?!”

“Because I wanted to have my own child before I transitioned.”

“But you were beautiful as you were born!”

“You don’t understand! I didn’t feel as beautiful as I do now. I am more confident now, and I don’t need you!”

“... Danniella, you think this will change anything? You always needed me to provide for you and Lucien. I was there for you.”

“Yes when I was still a woman, which I’m not anymore, so stop calling me Danniella!” Damien sounded like he was breaking down a bit. “You didn’t want to be with someone who would ruin your reputation, so you left.”

“... You’re a freak, and that’s all you’ll ever be. It doesn’t matter how well you’re off, or how you got to where you are, once a freak, always a freak… Danniella, why couldn’t you be a powerful woman beside a powerful man like me? Lucien needs a real man to call his father.” Terrence said, and with that, he sounded like he left Damien.

“... A real man would have stuck by to watch his son grow…” Damien muttered as you got closer. You happen upon the clearing where Damien sat. His eyes were glossed with tears as he started to cry. You stood there frozen in horror at what you were seeing.

“... Always a freak? I never thought I would hear that name again…” His voice quivered as tears kept falling down, vines and thorns crept over to Damien. “... It still hurts… I don’t know if Lucien ever saw the things I went through to make him happy, to give him a father he deserves… Maybe I’m not the father he deserves… Maybe I’m not the father he needs…” He said, but as he kept talking, his hair got longer, his features feminized, and his voice got higher. “Maybe he does deserve someone like Terrence… Maybe I should have just stayed how society was used to me as being… Something I used to be… Something I never wanted to be…” His tears kept falling down as the vines wrapped around his legs and went up his torso. It looked like the vines were giving him a corset, giving him a feminine shape, thorns making him bleed and then balled up over his pecs to give him the shape of breasts. Soon, he was wearing a Victorian-style dress made of thorns and vines. The vines wrapped around his hair to make a regal bun. Damien looked absolutely miserable, trapped, and wounded, but then there was someone else who walked up towards Damien.

“Hey mom,” It was Lucien, “Me and Dad are gonna go to a concert tonight, don’t wait up.” He said, giving Damien a white carnation before running back the way he came. Damien looked down at the flower and his lips quivered.

“... A white carnation… a woman’s good luck charm…” His tears flowed down his eyes as he hung his head as much as he could as thorny vines wrapped around his neck to make a choker, and that’s what is started to do. “A flower... befitting... a woman… like... me…” His voice started to strain as the vines started choking him, suddenly the garden slowly became darker. You snap out of your trance and run toward Damien. You smack the carnation out of his hand and tried to get the vines off of him, but it only choked him faster. You suddenly remember the knife Robert gave you. You pull it out and cut the vines from Damien, making the cut parts fall off of him, his features went back to normal as you kept cutting the thorns from him. Damien gasped hard and held his neck as he coughed and grabbed greedily for air.

“Damien, don’t ever think like that, you are a great father to Lucien, and I know for a fact that he loves you just the way you are.” You say as you hold his head and give him straight eye contact.

“... I don’t feel that way… He would be better off-” You cut him off in a hug.

“You got your house, your family and your friends all on your own, and that Terrence guy, he’s off in Rio somewhere only being a jerk for running out on his boyfriend and soon to be son. Now he has none of that, you wanna know why? Because he was threatened by you, he felt threatened when you showed just as much integrity and determination as a man, as the man you always felt like you are.” You stated, you were tearing up as well, the whole garden getting engulfed by darkness. “He could never ever amount to as much of a man as you are, he’s a coward. You said so yourself, a real man would stick by to watch his son grow. And Lucien needs you, you can’t give into this sadness, Lucien needs his father, you hear me?! Lucien needs you.”

Damien looked into your eyes, both your eyes and his eyes were getting misty as you notice cherry blossoms falling down slowly from the darkness.

“Y-You’re right, what am I thinking?... He does need me...” He asked, his hair billowing in the wind.

“Of course. Believe it.” You said, intentionally putting in that line to make Damien blush and start chuckling, and wrapping his arms around you in a hug, crying tears of relief, suddenly, cherry blossoms swirled around you both as the darkness lifted and revealed a similar room to what you were in. You were still holding onto Damien as the surroundings changed, and when you left the embrace, you looked into each other’s eyes and tears fell. The crystal around your neck was glowing as you and Damien embraced each other.

“Thank you…” Damien said to you, his voice shaky as he glowed and disappeared in your embrace. You blink as all you hugged was the air. You feel yourself and notice the crystal was gone. But as you looked around, you noticed there was another crystal that had a rose-like shape.

“What the heck is this?” You ask.

“They are the only means of escape.” Mary’s voice says behind you. You jumps and turn around, getting into a dad karate stance.

“Jeez, don’t do that! Between bipolar priests and demonic twins, the last thing I need to hear coming up from behind me is the mother from Carrie…” You say outloud, but then you cover your mouth. This made Mary laugh.

“Good one, but enough jokes. I’m glad you got Dames out, to be honest, this is one of Joseph’s more evil and sinister despair rooms.” She said, frowning. “Each despair room is equipped with a crystal to create their environment and use their insecurities against them to break their psyche down until they are nothing but empty, broken human beings…” She said, getting more sullen as she continued explaining.

“This is terrible… To do that to Damien… Oh no… Don’t tell me…” Your eyes grew wide and horrified.

“... Yes, the other dads are here too… Even Robert… He… That’s not important… Not now. What matters is that you need to save the other dads before they become vegetables of their own sorrow... “ She said, looking you dead in the eye.

You were scared, way beyond scared, shocked, that someone could be this cruel, especially to a group of dads so likeable, sweet, and sexy… No, now is not the time for you to be in your fantasy land… You have to buck up and think about the lives at stake, the children… Oh god the children, they might be without parents! Daisy… Carmensita… Briar… Hazel… River… Lucien… Ernest… Amanda… No, you can’t stand the thought of them crying. You have to do this for the children.

“Okay… I mean, I’ve already saved Damien… Wait, where did he go?” You ask Mary.

“The crystals controlling the rooms act as teleportation stones back to the surface. Once you’ve help them break their trance, they become the teleportation crystals out of here. But only one can be teleported out, and they have to be used on someone else.” Mary explained, “I couldn’t use the one you had on you because you were the only one strong enough to do this.”

You think for a minute then look down at the rose crystal, picking it up, and putting it on.

“But, why do you think I’m strong enough? I don’t think I’m that-...” You look up to face Mary but you notice you’re all alone. You sigh as you turn around and see a new door behind you. You can’t remember which way you came in, but you had a feeling since you were facing the table that Damien was on, the door behind you was where you came in. Determination in hand, you ball up your fists, tie your shoes tight, tucking in your laces, and step toward the door, and turned the knob, noticing that you were shaking as you reached for it. You felt like you couldn’t move, but you felt like if you could save your potential life partners, it was worth every single ounce of terror in your bones.

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atomic-r0x · 8 years ago

Text

In which Atlas is crying again

They walked back home in complete silence, though holding hands as Henry’s arm rested around her shoulders, the protective shield of a forever careful fiancé. Her eyes were hurting from the neon lights and there was a nagging pain teasing at her brain from all the paperwork and all the declarations and to be honest, just the sight of Patrick made her sick. It was impossible not to feel this way, all those memories of Damien swearing to kick him in the face for all the bullying he kept giving Charlie were too vivid to forget, or to forgive the monster who’d now become a cop, ironically enough.

A quiet night was ahead of them, with Henry having promised and back massage after dinner, and some red wine just to let their hair down and shake off the shock of waking up to a house full of threats and senseless words scribbled in that bloody red paint. It was a wonder how Henry could be so composed and maintain his calm, all while insisting everything was done to find the person who did this and be punish accordingly – Atlas spent the day in a complete haze, watching her fiancé in total awe at his ability, while she herself was just a mess. Confused, disturbed, needing to be loved.

She noticed him from a considerable distance, and maybe that’s why she didn’t react right away, hoping maybe it was just her imagination playing tricks, or a worker her dad had called in who looked too much like him. But the closer she and Henry were getting to the entrance door of her childhood home, the more it became evident she wasn’t dreaming. It was Damien. “What…?” she tried to ask, but soon found herself at a loss for words.

“Thought I could help.” Damien casually pointed his thumb behind his shoulder – right where now only a half of the words had been written. Out of all things to do and out of all the people in the whole town, Damien Nichols had to be the one crouching in front of her house with a bucket of white paint and tired eyes. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met,” Damien’s voice rang again, this time directing his words towards her fiancé, and it took nothing but a quick glance at his face to make Atlas stiffen, almost as if in block-start for the bad things that were about to go down. “I’m Damien.”

“We’ve met.” Henry said matter-of-factly, after introducing himself with his full name, a habit of his developed through work. “Is your hand alright?” This particular question made Atlas burn with curiosity, needing to know where they'd met, and how it went down, and why Henry knew about his presumed wounds, rather than herself. The moment Damien's eyes darted towards his knuckles, her own followed the trace and a small gasp, which she didn't dare let out, formed in the back of her throat, seeing the remaining scars and bruises from God knows what Damien had been up to. Before she could say anything, Damien's voice knocked her back to reality. “Where’ve you guys been?” he asked in a way Henry might have deemed casual, almost friendly, but Atlas's teeth were on the edge. She would have killed to be able to say 'let's not drag Henry in this, too', but she knew she couldn't - partly because her fiancé’s hand was once again around her shoulders, protectively and loving as always, and partly because both Damien and Atlas knew all too well this wasn't about Henry or Isabella or anyone else. It was strictly between the two of them. "We had to go to the police station, tell them about the house and file a complaint" Henry took it upon him to reply when he realized Atlas wasn't in the mood for talking, though her eyes were eager and present. "Dinner's ready!" Atlas's father's voice rang through the front door left wide open from when he was doing chit chat with Damien. It was only a couple minutes later, when he figured nobody replied to his calling, that Mr Collins proceeded towards the front door, where he found himself breaking an impenetrable, heavy silence. "Oh, Damien, you're still here? That's great, why don't you stay with us for dinner?" "Sure, why not? I bet there's plenty of food for each of us" Henry supported the idea with a wide smile, and Atlas's hand quickly grabbed his, in hopes their intertwined fingers would give her the possibility to control what her fiancé was about to say. "C'mon, the food is getting cold" he added regardless of the tight grip his lover's hand had on his own, which he mistook for affection, reaching down to kiss the side of her head before heading inside, leaving the door wide open for them to follow.

“Damien, why aren’t you coming?” Atlas heard her father, who still standing in the doorframe, “Are you not hungry, or is it because you aren’t used to coming in from the front door? You can come in from Atlas’s window if that’s what you find more comfortable.” She almost choked on air when her father suggested climbing through the window. It never really occurred to her they knew, that her parents were fully aware of what was going on upstairs, in the intimacy of her room. Embarrassment washed over her, thinking of all the sounds they might have witnessed, with both Damien and Atlas herself thinking they were so sly and quiet. She would have died to see Damien's face at the remark, but she was too proud to turn around, visibly seeking his gaze. Instead, she just shook her head, playing it cool, like she was laughing at how silly her dad was, and headed inside, eager to see whether Damien would join in. And he did. It took a lot of courage to sit exactly opposite to him, but Henry and her father had decided it was better like that, although she couldn't read any hidden intentions behind their eyes. “So, Damien…” she was brought back to reality by her fiancé’s words which immediately made her looking up to inspect his face, try to find any clue of what might come. “What do you do?” Atlas knew perfectly well Henry's question was simply trivial, the type you'd ask at the parties they went to with ambassadors and diplomats, but still, she froze for a moment.

“I’m a photographer.” He replied plainly, as if his day job was very similar to the one where you are stuck in a cubicle for eight hours, or whatever it was Damien might have thought about Henry’s type of job. The latter simply nodded, as if content with his reply, before shifting his gaze to Atlas. When Henry's gaze moved to her, she flashed the brightest smile. "He's actually pretty good at it. Or at least, so he was back when he was only starting out with me as his muse" she managed to joke, casually taking some salad into her own bowl before placing it back in the middle of the table. "I think I might still have those first few photos, upstairs" she added, although she knew for sure they were there. Part of them, the ones she felt were the most intimate ones, were scanned and preserved in her Italian home, locked inside a safe where she kept all the most important belongings. The others, who didn't reveal as much of their intimacy as the rest, were still in her childhood room, still smelling of his perfume from back then.

It was an unbearably hot summer night when he started toying around with a sh-tty 35mm camera that he got on sale. They were both sixteen, trapped in her childhood bedroom and their skin was glowing from the summer heat. She smelled like a fruity body lotion and his hair had slowly begun to curl from the humid June air. They had been talking about the dumbest things, both naked and lying on wrinkled white sheets. “Take photos of me.” She’d said to him – pink lips between her teeth swollen from all that kissing and a mischievous look in her eyes. “Really?” Damien raised his eyebrows in suspicion. “You should show them to me someday. Or later.”

She messed with her hair to hide the slight flush in her cheek. Henry and her father must have clearly thought Damien was probably nostalgic of his earlier work, or the times spent together, something innocent and cute, but only they knew the many ways in which his 35mm camera got to be used. “Anyways, Henry…” As if already bored from the topic, Damien suddenly shifted his gaze towards the man in front of him. “What do /you/ do?”

Henry was taken aback by the question, almost surprised that Damien and Atlas had decided to include the other two people at the table into their conversation. "Oh, uh, I'm a diplomat" he said plainly. He was never one to brag or talk too much about his job, which had always been something Atlas appreciated in him. There was a certain humbleness in Henry that many lacked. "Currently, Atlas and I are really keen on doing something for communities of poor or disadvantaged children. But, well, it's not half as dynamic as being a photographer" Henry concluded humbly, and Atlas couldn't help but grin a little bit. After all the sh.it they'd gone through, he was still able to make her feel all warm inside. It was moments like these when she realized how she'd always been fascinated by him, by the complexity of his whole being. They continued eating in silence for a little while, and in the meantime Henry had finished his plate, finding it fitting to go down into the dungeon to bring a bottle of wine, like Atlas's father had asked him to do. "So, how have you two reconnected? I must admit, Damien, not even I knew you were back in town, but I'm glad Atlas stumbled upon you again, after all this time" her father spoke, placing his fork down to the side after finishing eating, resting deeper inside his chair as his hands intertwined on his stomach, the relaxed position of someone who'd just eaten and was full.

“Yeah” Damien said, though it sounded more like a sigh. “I’m glad, too.” And then he began talking about Mia Anderson’s party and just how much of a bust it was and how he noticed Atlas in the crowd. “You were hopeless” he said, with a wide smile. “Just like that time, ten years ago at…“ Damien paused for a second, fingers snapping as he tried to remember who was hosting the party in which he and Atlas met for the first time, “…-Kelsey whatever’s party!” Atlas mouthed a silent ‘oh my god’ as if she immediately remembered the events of that night. “All I wanted to do was ask her for a lighter, and miss congeniality over here almost spilled an entire drink on me.”

"Well you came there all of a sudden!" she fought back playfully, her hands raising in the air from her thighs. "I was just enjoying my own company in solitude and quietness and you popped up behind my back!" she recalled, an impossible to hide smirk tugging at her lips. He walked her home that night. Their arms placed casually beside their bodies and their fingers brushing against one another from time to time, but neither of them actually having enough courage to hold hands. Just before she ran up those several steps in front of her childhood home, Atlas pressed a long, chaste kiss on his cheek – only several inches from his lips. She was so deep down memory lane that she almost didn't notice when Henry returned, silently pouring wine in their respective glasses before resuming to his seat, and Atlas straightened her back at the touch of his hand on her bare thigh, something so common and gentle that now seemed to put her off in a way she hated herself for. "Anyone up for some dessert?" she asked, immediately sitting up from the table in unexpected hospitality. "There's still some cheesecake in the fridge, we can share that no problem." Atlas didn't even wait for their reply and just went straight towards the kitchen, mind completely clouded with thoughts bringing back memories she had held onto dearly, but which troubled her in ways she wasn't yet ready to tackle.

“Actually,” Damien’s voice echoed in the dining room accompanied by the sound of a similar, but a lot softer sound of a chair being pushed back. “It’s getting pretty late and I kind of promised Isabella that I’ll help her out with some stuff at the motel. I’ll go say goodbye to Atlas. Thanks for dinner.” And although she had heard him coming, Atlas still jumped at his words, pale blue eyes widened in surprise as she placed the knife down on the kitchen counter. “I’m going. If you happen to find those photos, stop by, okay?”

She didn't protest. There was a soft smile on her and a small nod, before she whispered in a voice so low you might have confused it for mouthing 'bye' before she returned to the cheesecake. Atlas washed the dishes in silence and helped Henry sort her father's pills into daily doses, gathering maybe three or four in different colours and marking down the times when her father had to remember to swallow each of them. She followed her fiancé to her childhood bedroom and they watched a little bit of sloppy television before he pulled away from under the blankets to shave and have a shower. The moment he left the room, Atlas reached for the nightstand, and after a solid couple minutes of going through bits of pointless notes and whatnot, she finally found the envelope in which she kept the least intimate of the photos Damien had taken of her that summer. By the time Henry got out of the bathroom and threw himself inside the bed, she'd already found the folder in which she kept hidden the more provocative photographs. Ten, to be more precise, and even with his incipient skills in his current craft, there was still so much feeling inside those stills, so much rawness. It didn't take long for Henry to fall asleep, his arm around her protectively, like a kid hugging a stuffed toy to make sleeping more pleasurable. Atlas slid from underneath the weight of his body leaning on her side and stepped out of the bed, quickly pulling on clothes that could hardly pass as a decent outfit, but the air was hot that night, and she was in a hurry. Fifteen minutes. That's how much it takes to get from Atlas's place to the Flamingo Motel, room number 4, and yet she was still breathless. With a last deep breath, she cleared her throat lightly and made her way to his room, careful not to be seen, although paranoia almost managed to convince her Isabella was closely watching the surveillance cameras.

Finally standing in front of his door, knocking felt weird, and pushing the doorknob might have come off as something else, so instead, Atlas knelt down and tried to push one of the less intimate photographs underneath his door, hoping he'd see it somehow, without her making a complete fool of herself. It only occurred to her Damien might not even be there or want to open the door only after sliding the photograph underneath the door. She stood there staring at the wooden door with a small lump in her throat, convinced he hated her. Why wouldn't he hate her? If she had been in his shoes, Atlas would have loathed seeing Damien with another girl. Seeing them holding hands would have made her knees shake and mouth fill with nausea. In all honesty, Atlas would have loathed living, even for a small period of time, in the same town with a soon to be married Damien.

“Took you long enough.” Damien said the moment he opened the door, and her frown dissolved at that characteristic smirk settled on his lips. Right then, right in that moment, she was reminded how it felt to have butterflies for Damien. "Well, unlike someone I know" she started, a slightly mischievous smile settled on her lips "I don't live on my own. There was washing up to do, and people to take care of" she spoke, swaying inside with her hands stuffed inside the pockets of her denim shorts, making her way towards the edge of the bed.

“So… Did you find the rest?” Damien asked before lighting up a cigarette, Atlas's mind immediately darting to Isabella. Nonetheless, she nodded, shifting her position so that she could take out the white envelope she'd stuffed in the pocket of her jeans.

"All of them" she finally answered, biting down on her lower lip when she noticed him sitting right next to her, the familiar warmth of his body so close to hers causing goosebumps to form on her legs. How was it even possible to be so in love with another man when Damien effortlessly made her feel the way she did? Maybe it's true what people say about how your first love never really leaves you, she concluded before looking up at him, so close she could inspect the stubble peeking through the pores of his cheek. Atlas looked down at the envelope in her hand once more before handing it to Damien, stealing the cigarette from his hand in exchange. "So by these, you mean all?" Damien's voice was soft and soothing, bringing her back to reality, the reality in which she was hiding the contents of that specific folder on her laptop like there was some classified information that needed to be strictly protected. "So...?" he persisted, his face turned towards Atlas's, and she could help but hide her gulp with a long drag of her cigarette, getting up from the bed to open the window. "I guess there must be some others too, hiding somewhere around the drawers here, or back in Italy..." she spoke, although not believing a single word she was saying.

“Italy?!” There was a tiny crack in his voice, as if she had just shared something brand new to him and subsequently made him laugh during the process. “You brought the photos I took all the way to Italy?” The surprise in Damien's voice took even Atlas aback. Did he really think she'd leave those things behind? Were they finally having a conversation about leaving and not saying anything about it and dissecting the anatomy of broken hearts? God knew Atlas wasn't ready for that type of confrontation, because her sole argument would have been that night, when she crawled into his room and just slept beside him, trying her hardest to dissolve, or morph into a vital part of his body. Her whole existence was in boxes and luggage, even her toothbrush was stored in some bag only her mother could find. Her room was a ghost of what her life had been up until that point, and the only soul stuck in that haunted house was her father. Atlas's mother had long moved out into a cheap hotel nearby, and was eager to share her room with her daughter, counting down the days until they finally boarded the plane. Of course she couldn't fight against her mother and against the jury and the judges. The divorce had been too long, because Mr. Collins really did love his daughter more than anything in the world, but ultimately, being a mother always sounds more heroic than being a father. She was sixteen at the time, and could not choose her legal supervisor. She couldn't bother explaining that she did take those photos all the way to Italy, partly because she didn't want to openly admit they meant so much to her. Fxck, they meant everything, and this was a statement too bold, too heavy to say out loud. Instead, she returned to the side of the bed, only this time, they weren't as close as before. "I couldn't push myself into saying that. I just, I couldn't" she spoke softly, playing with her thumbs as her voice barely made itself audible. "I know I should have, maybe things would have been different now."

“I would’ve probably screwed you over…” He finally said after what seemed like hours of heavy silence. “By f-cking some random girl… or even your best friend, just because you’d go and hang out with your fancy new Italian friends rather than spending your Friday nights having boring small talks with me. You’d find out through a friend that you still keep in touch with or… maybe I would tell you because I can’t hold it in much longer and just need an excuse to end things with you. So, I tell you that I don't love you anymore, break your heart and you hate me forever. While I hate myself…” To say that Atlas froze would be the biggest understatement in the entire history of humankind. Her heart was pounding and there was a sharp pain following each beat, like someone was repeatedly stabbin her with a fork or a prehistoric weapon, over and over, until there was no life left inside of her, just the constant pain, the never ending cycle of thrusting in the weapon, then taking it out. The first one to ever tell Atlas they loved her romantically was Henry. She was almost twenty at the time and they had been toying with the idea of living together for a short period of time. Funny thing is, they were fighting over the point of moving in a place to call their own when he spoke those three words, that left a mark on her like a burning red steel on a fresh piece of flesh. She was screaming at him, asking why he was so pushy about it, why he kept nagging her about looking for apartments or houses to rent, and he just shrugged, tired of fighting over the same damn thing. 'Because I fxcking love you, Atlas, that's why' was what he said. Ever since then, her mind somehow automatically associated those three words with Henry. Matthias had told her 'i love you' once, maybe, but they moth knew he didn't really mean it. Love, in all its gigantic terrifying sense was exclusively reserved to Henry. Or so it had been, until now. They were drowning in silence, something so deep and dense you could cut it with a knife. It was weird how a wall had suddenly been built between the two of them, but them destroyed to the ground by the same force who raised it in the first place. The cigarette was now merely a buttt burning between her fingertips, but Atlas couldn't move, couldn't command her body to do something about it. And anyway, a cigarette burn was less painful than this. "Fxcking hell" she finally muttered, not knowing what to do with herself, so she just got up, walking towards the window to throw the remnants of the cigarette out the window, and for a second there, she thought she was going to keep her position, standing there by the window, gasping or fresh air. Instead, Atlas found herself tickled on the cheek by a stray tear, which she couldn't bother wiping away. "Well, we're even, then. You would have fxcked some girl around here and move on, and I would have been told 'I love you' miles away from here, by some guy you'd never tolerate." “And yet, here we are” he muttered before getting up, dragging his feet across the floor and stopping when both he and Atlas were standing at a respectable distance. She watched him move from the bed and her lips started burning, either from the desperate need to light up a cigarette or bruise her mouth against his. It had always haunted her, the love story she lived with Damien, but never imagined it would take over her life in just a matter of days. The moment his hand reached for her cheek to brush away the stray tear with his calloused thumb, Atlas's body was overwhelmed by a shiver that ran straight through her bones, making her further hide her face in the crook of his hand, closing her eyes in the safety of the imprints on his fingers. “What are we doing, Atlas? Are we friends? Are we fxcking? What’s happening?” Damien’s next words made her eyes pop open, and she stood there for a moment inspecting his features, trying to figure out what he meant by what he'd just said. But his face was confused, hurt almost, and troubled in a way she'd never seen him before, not even back in the day when he'd get in fights for causing havoc around town, not even when she'd lick the blood off his wounds before nursing him underneath the fortress her sheets were. "Damien, no... Don't talk like that" she closed her eyes once more, further hiding her face inside his palm, which was still lingering on her cheek. "Don't do that..." she continued, and now her hands were seeking his waist, finally locking around it, consequently pulling herself closer to him, this time moving her head from his palm to his shoulder, breathing in his scent, his bad boy perfume, the linger of cigarette smoke in his clothes. "I could have loved you until my heart stopped" she found herself whispering after what seemed like ten thousand years of doing breathing exercises into Damien's neck. "We could have been okay" she added, and then her voice cracked and Atlas decided the last thing she could do after being this vulnerable, was just abandon herself completely, further hiding her face in the crook of his neck, as if that was the getaway towards a place less complicated than this world.

“Yeah, back then we could’ve been okay… But what about now?” his voice was hoarse and unsteady, causing his chest to vibrate under Atlas's burning ear, red from how hard she'd been pressing her face into the crook of his neck. It made her feel uneasy to think he was waiting for a reply. No, it was making her feel uneasy that Damien was even letting his guard down this much, let alone ask such troubling things. Could she love him the same right now? She wanted to tell him straight away that she did love him. It was the truth and it would have been easier to just let it out, say it and not have to come back to it anytime soon. But there was no easy way out - the feelings were genuine, and clearly there, though incomparable to what she had ever experienced by Henry's side. A fxck no, this was not, by any means, the type of so-called platonic love, keeping Damien around for her own interests and entertainment. The fact of it is that, no matter how much she wanted things to be different, Damien was just a fantasy, a thing that could never materialize, something that had no chance of interfering with the way her life was going to carry on. She was never going to be Atlas Nichols. Of course, she said none of that, although his eyes were pushing her to the limit. Begging her, almost, to give him a sign, say something that would mimic certainty, anything that sixteen-year-old Damien couldn't care less about, but now, ten years later, was desperately waiting for. So, to make up for her silence, Atlas did the only thing she knew would make him feel any better - doe eyes wet with tears that were prohibited from rolling down her cheeks, she stretched up on her toes a little, pressing her own lips against Damien's, pulling him closer to her as they kissed, their lips doing a much better job at communicating than her whole vocabulary would have ever been able to.

With a thumb pressed against her cheek and a hand on the small of her back, Damien pulled her closer. He pulled her until there was no space left to fill as their lips communicated in a way that their words couldn’t. Her hands curled into fists – grabbing onto his shirt as if holding out for dear life and his arms tightening around her waist. He lifted her in a single, swift motion and as if it was something they had practiced over and over again; Atlas wrapping her legs securely around his torso and him slowly carrying her to his bed. All whilst their kiss remained unbreakable. A small whimper left her lips as he placed her down and pulled away – fingers hastily reaching for the hem of his shirt and removing it in one go. "Again?" Damien breathed and as soon as the last sound exited his mouth, Atlas covered it with her hand, then her mouth, lips making their way to his cheek, his earlobe, his jawline, then down his neck until she found herself kissing his shoulder. He was never the one to talk so much about feelings and their relationship, especially not in circumstances such as these, and the thought of him looking for answers was terrifying to Atlas, because in all honesty, she just didn't want to have to answer. She didn't want to explicitly break his heart, and her own as well. The moment Damien's cold fingers reached underneath the over-sized shirt she was wearing, calloused fingertips brushing against the warmth of her bare stomach, Atlas froze, biting down on her lip so hard blood might have well popped out of it. She hadn't told him about the tattoos, and was completely certain he'd missed the one on the side of her finger with her father's birth date in childish scribbling. But now, with him on the verge of throwing her t-shirt across the room, it was impossible to hide the Zippo lighter for much longer. "Dam?" she breathed, panting in the slightest bit from the frenetic kissing she'd been preoccupied with. "Dam, I have to show you something" Atlas finally whispered, propping herself up from underneath him a bit, enough to make it easy to throw off her own shirt, and look down at herself, although she couldn't see the tattoo from her perspective. But she knew it was there, pulsating, right underneath the right breast, just below the bra line, the small black drawing of the lighter she would always carry with around during her teenage years. The same lighter she'd given to Damien the first time they started talking.

He traced the lines of her brand-new tattoo with the edges of his calloused finger. “It’s beautiful” he said, and a sigh escaped Damien’s lips, moments before his gaze would meet hers for the millionth time that night. “Do I have to get one too, now? Because you know how I feel about needles. You’d have to drug me to get sh-t tattooed on me.”

A childish gurgling laugh escaped her throat as she fell back on the mattress, arms carelessly draping around his neck. For some reason, he'd managed to make her click, causing her to fall in a laughing fit that just couldn't be shaken off, and so she curled underneath him, stomach aching from the giggles. The fit gradually died, until she was still beneath his figure once more, doe eyes searching for his. Her hand automatically reached for his tattoo, the doodle Charlie had done sometime and which, for a reason Atlas still had no clue about, he'd decided to rid himself of the fear for needles and have it done. "You don't have to do anything about it. I did it for myself, I needed to" she replied after a short while, face yet again rather serious, her eyes now scanning the outline of his tattoo. A short silence followed, her hands reaching for the softness of his neck without touching it, eyes seeking his to hold his gaze, but eventually, she just dropped her hands down and rested her head against the mattress, staring at the ceiling as if she was trying to decipher a coded message. "So, I guess the deal had always been for one of us to sneak around inside the other's room?" Atlas finally broke the silence, trying to brighten up the mood again as her hand reached for the dark curls of his hair, tugging at it ever so slightly.

“Well, it couldn’t be helped, your mom hated me. She probably still does…- although! I could never understand why, I’m a f-cking delight!” He spoke, displaying the widest grin she’d seen from him in literal ages, as he watched her burst into uncontainable laughter once again. “No, but I’m serious,” He pressed, slowly raising himself and leaning his head on his hand, “Is it my face? Is my face the reason why parents find me so obnoxious?”

"Well, I don't know, my mom's relationship with men is notoriously fxcked up, maybe you reminded her of some great love she'd never had" Atlas spoke through small fits of laughter, turning her head to the side to face Damien once again. In all honesty, Atlas's sole theory on why her mother seemed to dislike his presence so much was the fact that she probably couldn't stand the idea of her daughter being happier in love than she, a married full-grown woman, was. Or maybe it was just her protectiveness stopping her from embracing the guy who took away Atlas's innocence. "But hey, at least my dad likes you. Isn't that every guy's main stress point?" she teased, propping herself up on her hand to mimic his own position, eyes helplessly drowning in his. "I mean, even with your super emo bad boy facade, he told me he was really fond of you.” A few moments of comfortable silence followed, after which Atlas turned her head to the side to look out of the window, the warm tone of streetlight being the only thing to shine over their bodies. “There used to be a pretty nice pink lighting from that sign they had.” She finally said, laying her head back to the mattress and comfortably resting below him. Just like before, her hands reached for him – short nails painted bright red traced the lines of his face, as well as the place where now a faint scar existed. And just before Atlas’ had pulled away, his hand met hers; cupping it slowly and absently bringing it to his lips, kissing each and every finger of hers – lips grazing through the softness of her skin before pulling her once again towards him. “I might leave soon,” Damien suddenly said, in between kisses, “Probably gonna head to New York or Seattle, nothing too fancy…” He paused briefly, succumbing the moan that was creating from Atlas’ lips slowly working their way down his jaw and onto his neck, before finally adding, “… come with me.”

His words paralyzed her. Each and every one of them felt like a punch in the stomach, repeatedly, like she was one of those games in amusement parks where you have to kick a punching bag hard enough to make it go all the way up. Only, with this type of pain she was experiencing, there was no prize. "Damien..." she whimpered, voice so low it was breaking. She was desperately searching for his gaze but somehow, despite the close proximity, it took a while for his eyes to meet hers, creating a black hole in the middle of her entire body. "Damien, don't leave me, please..." she begged, but before he could say anything, her lips were once again locked against his, desperately doing their best now to let him say a word.

“Are you even listening to me?” He pulled away – calloused fingers cupping the side of her face, “Atlas, I’m asking you to come with me! Leave this town, leave everything and f-cking come with me!” Atlas watched him with a confused frown on her face, eyes jittery and hesitant, like Damien was suddenly talking in another language she couldn't understand, though her cheek still found comfort in hiding inside the crook of his hand, which was now caressing the side of her face. Her frown intensified once he pulled away, and her hands reached out for him involuntarily, but couldn't grab a hold, so she just sat up on the bed, shoulders so heavy they might have fallen off together with her cement arms. There she was, in her shorts and her bra, sitting in the middle of his messed up bed with a pounding heart and a lump gradually forming in her throat. She watched him move towards the window, hands grasping the ledge like he was about to break it, so much anger stored up in the muscles she could now see the outline of in the dim light of street lamps. And really, Atlas wanted to say something, anything, but he'd left her speechless, the growing lump in her throat simply blocking any sound from coming up from her aching throat. "And... Atlas" he spoke, words barely audible, and this time she was scared of finding his gaze, because she was terrified his eyes would show just as much hurt as she was feeling right now. She pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes and leaned forward, almost as if in prayer, not knowing what to do. Atlas stood like that for a few moments before getting out of the bed, stepping in close to him. so that her arms could wrap around his bare torso, while his body was leaning against the window ledge. Silent and moving like she was handling porcelain, Atlas resolved to just press herself against him again, head resting on his shoulder, but this time, her face wasn't facing the softness of his neck. "Damien, what kind of love is this?" she found herself whispering after literal ages, her arms still locked around his body, but this time her chin was resting on his shoulder, overlooking the empty parking lot, like some sort of salvation was waiting out there.

“I don’t know. I’ve never felt love like this.” Hearing him confess his love, although still not straightforward, was probably the only thing Atlas had ever wished for in her youth. A sign, a coded message, anything to assure her while she was on that damned plane to Italy that her feelings hadn't been in vain. Instead, he was always to one to leave things such as these unsaid, and finally, she had to settle with him holding her tighter than ever that morning when she sneaked out of his bedroom, after sleeping the whole night pressed one against each other. That word, love, made tears automatically fill her eyes - she remembered her mother's words, that good love is always gonna find its way somehow, no matter where she went, and right now, Atlas was wondering if anything she had ever known about love was true. About letting go of those you cared for and waiting for them to come back if they really did reciprocate the feelings. About being patient and faithful that love will always conquer. Well, fxck all of that. Fxck every single myth out there telling her things were gonna be fine, because clearly, right now, they weren't. “So, that’s why I’m gonna ask you again and after this I promise I won’t push it.” He’d turned around now, that way both his hands were now cupping Atlas’s face. “Do you wanna run away with me?” a stray tear couldn't be contained anymore, only this time it didn't feel like crying, but like acid dripping down from her eyes, burning everything. There was so much resentment, so much anger at the whole entire universe, if given the chance, she would have broken a mirror. She was longing for that kind of pain, so much more bearable that the thing she was going through right this moment. Of course, his question only made things worse, because yes, right this moment, she would have said yes, throw her shirt back on, hold his hand for dear life and just fxcking drive miles and miles away from Beaufort. But how could you tell whether they were going to work? Wasn't all of this heartache just the painful attempt at rekindling the passionate love they once had? His eyes were pushing her to the limit and her whole body was shivering, teeth sinking so hard into her lower lip that blood was legitimately poking out, and her nose was ruby red, and her eyes were just straight-up glass. Everything about her was messed up and aching, so much that she finally did it. A nod was everything she could summon, closing her frowning eyes as she leaned her forward against his mouth, finding it hard to even breathe anymore. What have you done, Atlas Collins? What have you done...

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

Royal Growing Pains - Chapter Twenty Six

Warnings: Homophobia, transphobia, misgendering, sympathetic Deceit

Royal Growing Pains Tag

They sat in companionable silence for a while on the bottom step, Roman resting his head on Damien’s shoulder. “I’m glad we both like each other,” Roman said idly. “I know we completely skipped over boyfriends straight into fiancés, but regardless, liking each other is...good. Nice.”

Damien laughed and said, “Are you always this flustered around guys you like?” and Roman groaned.

“Look, not having the words to describe how I feel about love is not an uncommon thing,” Roman protested. “You’re the one who thought my smile was pretty enough to fall down the stairs for.”

Damien huffed in annoyance and Roman smirked. “You know it’s true,” Roman gloated.

“Are you going to bring that up whenever we have a debate?” Damien asked.

“It’s entirely possible, at least until you do something stupider,” Roman said.

Damien sighed. “Well, you’re honest about it at least.”

Roman grinned before looking up at the stairs behind them. “I hate that sooner or later we’re going to have to leave,” he sighed.

“Tell me about it,” Damien sighed. “I just hope we aren’t punished by being separated again.”

“I will fight tooth and nail against that, for what it’s worth,” Roman said. “I would argue I hated that more than you did. I had to be with my mother, after all.”

“That’s true,” Damien mused. “Maybe if they force that, I only do it under the negotiation that I stay with your mother so you can’t be in the same room as her?”

Roman snorted. “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, let alone you,” he said.

“And yet you do it to yourself?” Damien asked.

Roman went quiet. “Someone has to, at the end of the day.”

“That someone doesn’t have to be you,” Damien said.

“Well, I’m not going to wish it on anyone else in this castle, so I’m the only one left,” Roman said with a shrug. “This afternoon, and then tomorrow. The day after that is the rehearsal for the wedding, and before you know it, this will all be over.”

“I don’t want you being punished for the next three days, my dear,” Damien said.

Roman shrugged. “Punished for the next three days is better than punished for the rest of my life.”

“That’s what this was intended to be, my dear,” Damien said. “And that’s not fair to you. I want to lessen the suffering and punishment as much as possible.”

“I would argue you already have,” Roman said, stroking Damien’s cheek.

Damien turned pink and Roman bit his lip, wondering if it was too soon to try for a kiss. Roman leaned forward but Damien pulled back, and Roman stopped. Too soon, then.

“We should probably move away from the steps,” Damien said, standing up. “If we leave through the door behind us we’ll almost certainly be caught in an instant, but I know some ways to sneak around this castle and not get lectured quite yet.”

“Could we retreat to my room?” Roman asked. “Spend some time away from everyone before the inevitable lecture?”

“Of course, my love,” Damien said, holding out his hand, and Roman took it.

Damien helped Roman to his feet and they walked further into the basement. It wasn’t the most well-lit, but it wasn’t completely dark and dreary. “Is this storage space?” Roman asked.

“Mostly,” Damien agreed. “But the perk of that is that there are multiple ways to get to the storage from around the castle, depending on what you need.”

Roman nodded.

Damien led him up a flight of stairs to a nondescript door and held a finger to his lips. He pressed his ear to the wood, and, apparently satisfied with what he heard, opened the door and ushered Roman up and out of the basement. Roman recognized the mudroom he had ran through his first day here right down the hall, and Damien led him up the back stairs and both of them rushed to Roman’s room, Roman closing the door with a click and sighing. “My mother is going to be furious,” he lamented.

“You retreated to your room to regroup and think things over,” Damien said. “No one would blame you for that.”

“You are far too good at coming up with excuses,” Roman laughed, walking over to his bed. Damien sat down next to him and Roman sighed. “I admittedly don’t know how we’re going to pass the time without causing a ruckus and being found out.”

Damien glanced around. “I mean, you packed art supplies...and...at least one book,” he said, pointing to the nightstand. “I could read and you could draw, if all else fails.”

“True,” Roman sighed. He looked at the flower crown Damien was still wearing, and smiled. “I’m glad you like my little gift to you.”

“Of course,” Damien said, sounding almost offended. “It was a gift from you. Why wouldn’t I like it?”

Roman squeaked and turned cherry red. “Rude!” he sputtered.

Damien chuckled, arching an eyebrow. “I fail to see how that’s rude, but if I must repay you for that somehow, I suppose I will.”

Roman was struck with an idea and he grabbed his sketchbook and pencils. “Sit still, then, I want to draw you with your flower crown,” he said, flipping to a blank page in his sketchbook and beginning to get the basic shapes on paper.

Damien laughed, putting the back of his hand to his forehead. “Oh, woe is me! I have to sit still for five minutes while you sketch, I never should have agreed to this!”

Roman snickered and shook his head. “Well, that’s what you get for being rude!” he shot back.

“That wasn’t rude!” Damien laughed. “Rude would be doing a dramatic rendition of ‘Say Something’ using your hairbrush as the microphone just after you’ve gotten out of the shower.”

Roman laughed harder. “You’re so weird!” Roman declared, pointing his pencil at Damien. “That’s such an oddly specific example. Who did you do that to?”

Damien turned light pink and looked away. “No one in particular,” he said.

Roman squinted at Damien. He would have just admitted if it had been a boyfriend, and he had thick hair, but his father always kept his hair neat and it wasn’t nearly as curly as Damien’s, so he doubted it was his father. Roman’s eyes lit up and he giggled. “You did that to your mom, didn’t you?!”

“Shut up!” Damien hissed. “How was I to know she was in the shower in the hotel?”

“Uh, if you were sharing a hotel room, you definitely should have heard the water running,” Roman laughed. “And ‘Say Something’? Really? You would sing ‘Say Something’? That’s such a specific song!”

Damien huffed. “I was in my angst phase, all right?!” he defended. “And my mother ripped her hairbrush out of my hands, so her hair didn’t dry tangled!”

“That doesn’t make it better!” Roman crowed. “Oh, if you do that on our honeymoon, I will personally kill you. My hair is a mess enough without it getting all tangled after a shower.”

“Speaking of honeymoons...anywhere you want to go?” Damien asked. “I’m personally fond of the Meditteranian.”

“I kind of want to see Rome, and Italy in general for that matter,” Roman said with a shrug. “But the Carribean would also be nice. White beaches, blue skies, nothing but the open ocean for miles on a rental boat?”

“Hm, true,” Damien said. “The Carribean is lovely. How about this: we honeymoon in Italy, and for Valentine’s, I take you to the Carribean? Get away from the freezing winter.”

“You would do that?” Roman asked, eyes lighting up. “You’d take a vacation for a couple days just to go to the beach with me?”

“I’d make it two weeks if at all possible,” Damien said. “Just enough time for sun, sand, water, and maybe some fun inside, too, if you catch my drift.”

Roman gripped his pencil so hard he was surprised it didn’t snap in two. “Damien!” he exclaimed indignantly as Damien started snickering. “That is impossibly rude! Don’t get me thinking about those sorts of things when I’m trying to draw! It never ends well!”

“How does it end?” Damien asked.

“Usually with certain images drawn that should never see the light of day,” Roman said seriously, focusing on Damien’s nose in the drawing rather than looking up at Damien himself.

“I’d love to see those,” Damien said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Maybe once we’re married,” Roman muttered. “But not before.”

“Oh, you wound me!” Damien exclaimed.

“The marriage is in three days, you doofus, you’ll live,” Roman said definitively.

Damien sighed. “...You know your mother is probably going to kill us both when she finds us.”

“Yep, trying not to think about that, thanks,” Roman said, continuing to draw.

“Do you have any plans for trying to get out of it?” Damien asked.

“Nope. I just figure she’ll yell at me for a while and then be done with it. She can’t call off the wedding at this point.”

“Why not?” Damien asked. “You said yourself that she arranged it, and you said it in front of half a dozen dignitaries. The secret’s out, my dear. They know it’s not a marriage of love, but of convenience.”

Roman sighed. “I choose to believe that she wouldn’t stoop so low as to cancel the marriage. She’s too desperate to have her perfect daughter.”

Damien frowned. “You know, I think it’s rather sad,” he mused. “She’s so desperate to cling to someone you never were that she’ll shove who you really are away. I know parents dream of their perfect children, who could never do a thing wrong in their life, and who are everything they want those kids to be and more, but...in the process of trying to preserve her daughter, she’s chasing away her son. I know that what she’s doing is inexcusable, and I know it hurts you, and of course, I’m not trying to defend her, but...that desperation...that sheer fear of the unknown that turns into bigotry and ignorance...it’s saddening to see.”

“Because she could be good, if only she opened her eyes and saw the error of her ways,” Roman agreed softly. “If she didn’t try to micromanage myself and Remus, and let us do what we wanted, be ourselves, explore who that really is without fear of judgement, she probably could have loved who we really are. Everyone who I talk to when I’m myself...when I’m not pretending to be Veronica? They say that I’m the happiest man they’ve ever seen. They say I’m full of life, that I’m energetic, that I light up a room when I enter it.

“That’s how I was when I was a kid, too. That’s what my mother is trying to cling to. But what she doesn’t realize is that when she saw a little girl, the reality was that I was being a little boy. I was being myself. And yeah, some more ‘feminine’ interests like art have stayed through the years, but...at the end of the day...I’m a man. I was being a little boy, getting dirty and scuffing my shoes and wearing my hair short and insisting on wearing pants and suits like Remus did. That wasn’t a little girl going through a rebellious phase, that was a little boy trying to get the world to agree that’s who he was.”

Damien nodded solemnly. “I don’t suppose explaining that to her would go over well?”

“I’ve tried. More than once. She never wants to hear it. She’s too wrapped up in her ideal little world to accept that life doesn’t always turn out the way she wants it to,” Roman said. “It’s beyond infuriating, but right now, I’m resigned to my fate. Three more days of pretending. And then hormones, surgery, therapy, the works.”

Damien’s lips twitched up. “If you keep focusing on the light at the end of the tunnel, you’ll be there before you know it.”

“I hope so,” Roman sighed.

“I know so,” Damien assured him. “Pretty soon no one in the world will be able to deny that you are a man. Not even your parents.”

“They’ll argue it anyway, because of what’s in my pants,” Roman sighed, making marks on the shading of his drawing.

“If we keep you hidden away for a couple months until the HRT kicks in, they won’t recognize you at first,” Damien suggested.

“As soon as we say my name they will,” Roman said, rolling his eyes.

“My love, by that point I will most likely have swords at your parents’ throats and if they misgender you they will lose their heads. Literally. I will not hesitate,” Damien said determinedly. “No one will be allowed to misgender you again.”

Roman felt his cheeks heat up and he couldn’t help but look away, finding Damien’s gaze to be far too intense. “I appreciate it,” Roman said. “Truly. I just wish that it weren’t a problem in the first place.”

“I know,” Damien tutted. His eyes drifted away from Roman and to the page Roman was signing. “Oh, wow,” he breathed. “My love, that is beautiful.”

Roman giggled a little. “It’s not my best work,” he admitted with some reluctance. “I am proud of it for the time I took, but it’s not the best. I will admit the flowers came out better than expected.”

“I can’t wait to see you draw more, so I can see the work you’re actually proud of,” Damien said. “Because this is incredible. The pieces you put time into must be heart-stopping.”

“Stop!” Roman whined. “Oh my god, you’re going to kill me at this rate! Don’t!”

Damien gently closed the sketchbook and put it on the nightstand, and removed Roman’s hands from his face so he couldn’t hide behind them. “My love, you can create the second most beautiful masterpieces in the world.”

“What’s the first?” Roman asked.

Damien smirked. “I think you know.”

“If you say me, I will kick you, and it will hurt,” Roman warned.

“If I said anything else I would be—oof!” Damien was cut off by Roman roughly kicking Damien in the jewels. “...Lying...ow...”

“Serves you right,” Roman huffed. “You’ve been nothing but rude to me all day with your compliments.”

Damien winced and tried to uncurl from his fetal position. “I had been informed that most boys generally liked being flirted with...”

“I’m not most boys,” Roman said simply.

“...You’re right. I should have taken that into account.” Damien took a deep breath through his nose and let out a sigh. “Okay. I’m not going to puke from that one kick, that’s progress.”

Roman offered Damien a smirk. “You’ve puked from that type of thing before?”

“Yes, although I was fairly young,” Damien admitted. “I told a girl I liked her brother and she screamed and kicked me, essentially gave me the shovel talk, and stormed off. Apparently Nate already liked a girl. And my giving him my bubblegum lollipop meant nothing.”

Roman laughed. “Oh, that’s priceless!”

Damien pouted. “Come on, giving up my bubblegum lollipop was a big deal! And he just took it and didn’t even say thank you!”

“Still hilarious,” Roman said, grinning.

Damien huffed. “I see how it is,” he grumbled.

“No, baby, come on, I love you,” Roman said, hugging him. “I just also love laughing at you.”

Damien continued to pout and grumble for a couple minutes, but Roman hugging him meant that the mood in the room wasn’t too dark.

Damien grimaced as his stomach growled. “It’s about lunch time,” he said. “But I anticipate we wouldn’t be allowed to sneak into the kitchen to avoid the dignitaries.”

Roman took off his and Damien’s flower crowns and placed them gently on the nightstand. “I’m willing to wait for an hour or so to try and sneak down.”

“That’s probably our best bet,” Damien agreed. “Until then...” he grabbed Roman’s hairbrush and said, “Care to duet?”

Roman laughed. “Sure, what song?”

“‘Say Something’?” Damien offered with a grin.

“Uh, maybe not,” Roman laughed. “What about ‘all the good girls go to hell’?”

Damien’s eyes lit up, “I love that song!” he declared, pulling out his phone and typing furiously. After a second, the song started to play, and Damien started singing into Roman’s hairbrush. “‘My Lucifer is lonely...’”

Roman belted out the lyrics along with Damien, and at some point during the song they wound up standing on the bed, dramatically posing to each line. By the end of the song, they were breathless and laughing, and Roman was beaming as Damien bit back a grin. “That was fun!” Roman exclaimed. “Another song?”

“Sure,” Damien agreed.

Roman scrolled through his phone, looking at what he had recently played, and he laughed. “Hey, want something ironic?” he asked.

“Always,” Damien said.

Roman played Lorde’s “Royals” and Damien burst out laughing as the beat started. They sang just as dramatically as before, Roman bouncing on his toes on the bed while Damien struggled to simply remain standing. Roman giggled as the song came to a close. “That was fun,” he said.

A knock sounded on the door and both his and Damien’s heads snapped to it as it swung open. Virgil walked in, looking furious. “There you are! Your Highnesses, the whole castle has been looking for you for two hours!”

Damien shrugged. “Roman was upset after confronting his mother. We came back here to talk and after a time we decided to have some fun just singing. Did you not think to look here until now?”

Virgil seethed. “I knew you two were still on the grounds, but that didn’t mean you two weren’t out of danger! Do you have any idea how much of a state your parents are in, Damien?!”

Damien slumped and shrugged. “Honestly, they should know that I do this sometimes, they should expect it, really.”

“Well, whether they did or didn’t this is the longest we’ve gone without finding you, and the two of you have to answer to them,” Virgil said sternly. “Out. Now.”

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#roceit #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #deceit sanders #royal growing pains #our creations

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