#even though i'm still completely deaf in my right ear...

[alexturner]

Feeling very

this morning

[formula1au]

home race

summary: it was the dutch gp that your boyfriend max verstappen won. After he saw you in his driver's room he couldn't resist you

pairing: max verstappen x gf!reader

content: fluff, smut!

warning: penetrative sex, riding, blowjob, finger sucking, no protection

word count: idk sorryyy

It was the Dutch GP, and you watched your boyfriend Max cross the checkered flag first. You knew he would win this. He's dominating the whole sport right now. He's also dominating you almost every minute in your life, but that's just him.

After he jumped out of the car, he ran to his team. They patted his back, and he looked so happy. But something was missing; he was searching for you. He quickly made his way to you and kissed you in front of the camera.

"Wait for me in the driver's room," he whispered into my ear with a smirk on his face.

I didn't even wait for the podium celebrations. I quickly walked to his driver's room and closed the door with a loud bang behind me. I was nervous and also so excited because every time he won his home grand prix, he made love to me so passionately. So it was a win for both of us. I waited for him for a long time. I forgot that he needed to do the press before he was free from all the media and work stuff. But the time finally came when the door opened and closed immediately. He locked it quickly and threw me a disappointed look.

"I thought it was clear that I wanted you naked and on your knees as soon as I arrived," he shook his head, clearly getting impatient.

"Are you deaf? Get to work," I started to undress. I didn't want him to be mad because then he would not let me climax.

After I was completely naked, he gestured for me to crawl to the couch. Max was already naked, and he looked so attractive. "Come on, baby. You're going to use that tongue of yours for something more useful," I nodded and sat between his legs. His erection was already hard and leaking.

Firstly, I teased him with gentle licks, but then I took him fully into my mouth. He started thrusting his hips into my mouth. Tears appeared in my eyes, and he seemed to enjoy it. After some time, he gripped my hair and pushed me onto his dick. My throat had never felt worse.

"Ugh, schatje, you're going to make me cum," he moaned and then pulled me off. "Open up," he said, and I opened my mouth for him to cum straight into it.

I needed release too, so I started touching myself and grinding onto the ground. Max immediately noticed. Of course, he did.

"Is my poor little baby getting all worked up?" He pulled me into his lap and thrust his fingers into me. I cried out from the unexpected stimulation on my clit. "You're going to cum on my fingers, and then I'm going to give you my cock, okay?" He asked, even though it wasn't even a question. I was his to do whatever he wanted with me.

I came pretty quickly when he even started sucking hickeys into my chest and pinching my nipples until they were all red and sensitive.

"I want your dick," I whined.

"What do we say when we want something? Where are your manners, liefje?" He stroked his dick and teased my entrance with his tip.

"Please, Maxie, I need it so badly," I cried out. My thighs were still trembling from the previous orgasm.

"There's my good girl again," he slammed me down onto his cock, holding me down. The burning sensation was so pleasurable.

"Come on, make yourself feel good on my cock and make yourself cum," he drew circles into my thighs as I started riding him.

Max whispered all sorts of dirty things into my ear. After I slowed down, he flipped me onto my stomach and started thrusting into me while stimulating my clit. I came with a shout of his name.

"That's it, y/n. You're literally milking me, baby. Look at that hole of yours taking me like a champ. I'm going to cum inside you," he mumbled, and then he came inside me with a loud groan.

"I'm pulling out, baby," he kissed my shoulder blade and pulled out. I felt his and my cum leaking out of me. He pushed one finger into my entrance and then sucked it clean.

"Do you want to taste yourself?" He did the same but put the finger into my mouth. I sucked his finger clean. Then I let myself collapse on the couch.

I heard some rustling behind me, so I turned onto my back and saw Max walking with a wet towel.

"I'm going to clean you," he kissed me and then cleaned me. "You need to go pee, baby." I stood up and walked into the small bathroom in his driver's room. I peed, washed my hands, and returned.

Max has already made the couch more comfortable. He walked towards me and picked me up. Then he laid me down and lay next to me. He put a cover on us.

"What about post-sex cuddles?" He asked with a smirk.

"Mhm, that sounds amazing," I giggled and snuggled into his warm skin.

"By the way, you did so well, Maxie. I didn't have time to tell you that," he laughs and kisses me on the head. "Thank you, schatje. I did it for you. And for my family. And for the fans." We laugh together, and then the room falls into peaceful quiet.

[angelribbon]

DONT YOU LOVE ME ANYWAY?

tw: slapping, slight breeding kink, smut, dark!luke, corruption kink, daughter of aphrodite!reader

a/n: from your #1 yappist

There was something sacred about it-how he would desecrate-ruin you. Bruises littered your inner thighs, neck, anywhere he could find to mark you. Own you.

And he did.

There was some thrill in it for him, that you'd allow him to fuck with you like this, turn you into something as depraved and corrupt as him. Watching the guilt settle in your eyes when he finishes fucking you, mock disappointment crafting his words.

"should cover those up, yeah?, cant have everyone knowing what a cock dumb slut you are now, can we?"

People began to notice it, slowly. The way your face would burn with embarrassment turning into shame when they pointed out the hickeys. The fact that you were luke's toy to fuck and use as he pleases. And it was, until it became because even after he betrayed you, its his name that falls from your lips when you cum on your fingers.

You shouldve known better. Maybe checked the borders harder, more than twice-brought more weapons. Anything, that would take you back from being here. The metal presses against your throat, sending shocks of fear through you as he tilts your head up, back pressed against the rough bark of the tree.

Clarisse and the others had left camp for some special mission, chiron called it, leaving you and the other year rounders. It was calm for the first few weeks, until it wasnt.

Monsters started attacking more frequently, breaking the borders which you couldve sworn you thought could never happen. And there was only one culprit. The same one that had his head between your thighs-just weeks earlier and now a knife under your chin.

"isnt it past curfew sweetheart?" he asks tilting his head as he smiles "should report you for that"

Like the fucker cares.

Your eyes scan your surroundings, looking for atleast a dagger, seeing most of your weapons discarded too far from arms reach. He sees you, of course, eyes darkening in irritation.

"None of that yeah? just want to talk-"

Something in you clicks, anger that causes you to almost bite at him. "now you want to talk? you fucking left me luke!, no note, not even a simple goodbye-i had to hear about this from annabeth, a-and you want to speak to me with a sword at my throat?!"

He shifts, eyes moving to unreadable, as he backs up only slightly.

"There wasnt enough time-couldnt get you roped up in this shit and risk somethin' happening to you, you wouldnt have understood-"

His words fall on deaf ears, not caring-trusting-what he says anymore. You're quick to move, acknowledging that his sword is now at his side, completely out of the way. The first fist hits and you cant tell when the second one reaches. He lets you hit him, takes it until it actually begins to hurt, grapping your wrists as you attempt to fight his grip. He discards his sword on the ground, moving his other hand to keep you still. "Stop before you hurt yourself" he says sternly, backing you right up against the tree. Theres tears on your face now, he cant tell if they're from sadness or anger, choosing the latter pains him less.

"Just calm the fuck down"

Its the same tone he would use with you before, whenever you'd ask him to stay with you after he'd fuck you for hours on end. Producing the same result, tears brimming along your waterline until his tone changes. "I'm sorry okay? just dont-dont-fuck- stop crying, cant take it when you do that to me"

Your lip stops trembling, soaked eyes looking up at him as his hand cradles your chin. Its silent, none of you knowing what to say anymore and even though, you know better, you kiss him. Your lips are soft against his at first, but when luke gets over his shock? he's all teeth and blood. Violent and angry and so so desperate. Your brains in a fuzz, a high from the way hes kissing you. Maybe you've spent too long alone since he left, maybe you should've moved on. But whatever it is that leads you to do something like this, you're to fucked out of your brain to care.

Fuck elysium, he's got his own little heaven right here, in the way you sculpt your lips into his, letting him find solace in you after everything. His hand reaches to the curve of your waist pulling you into him, as he begs you to let him go further. To fuck out his frustrations onto you once again. He's sick for even asking, and you? you're just as bad for agreeing.

He practically rips of your skirt, ruining the pretty lace hem, muffling your protests with his lips. "I'll but you ten, okay a whole fuckin' set after-"

A promise you know he's not going to keep, but for now, you let him have it. His hand trails over your panties, pressing the damp spot he sees there. "That desperate huh? been waitin' for me princess?"

Somewhere in your stupor, your lips form into a pout.

"Dont be silly"

His lips form into a smirk at that, slapping your clit from your tone as you yelp. "Yeah? you've just been whoring yourself out since ive been gone?-looks like i needa remind her who she belong to hm?"

Another slap connects at your silence.

"Y-yes-fuck-please-n-need it so bad-" you babble out mindlessly, pushing your hips up into his hand-a desperate attempt to get some friction. He chuckles at your neediness, like his cock isnt leaking through his pants right now. He pulls your panties to your knees, fingers teasing at your hole, gathering your slick before he's sliding both inside of you. The sound you make is pathetic, giving him exactly what he wants, to see you pliant and indigent for him again. He's not slow or careful, instead fucking you with his fingers like hes almost enamored with the motion.

"L-luke-!" you whine, when you feel his other finger pinch your clit, the stimulation making your body jolt in pleasure. "I know, baby, I know-'s really abandoned her didnt i? dont even know how much ive missed this pretty pussy"

His words are so sweet, an illusion for how fucked up this all is. He continues to pump his fingers into you, feeling how you tighten up around him as his hand goes back to circle your clit. Your hips buck up into his hand, letting him use it as motivation to move faster. Head falling back, feeling the familiar tightening in your stomach as whimpers emit from you, eyes rolling back in pleasure. Your brain goes white when you cum, thighs trembling as you clamp down on his hand. He pulls out of you, watching the wetness that drips down your thighs.

"theres my girl"

He's quick to pull out his cock, all angry and red, precum dripping along his veins. He rubs his cock along your thighs, shivering at the feeling. He's slow at first, easing himself in, until he fully enters you, a wheeze coming from him.

shitshitshitshitshit-shit-" his thighs quiver, jaw clenching from holding himself back. "g-gotta relax for me, mami-fuck-"

He buries his head into your neck, gritting his teeth as his hands tighten on your hips. It take everything in him not to just rut into you right there.

For your sake, he tries to be slow, be patient as he thrusts into you at an antagonizing, gentle pace. You mumble something under your breath, begging him to go faster, to ruin you again, to break you. And he remembers that really? he was never a patient man.

His hips snap into yours, his movement prompted from that primal need to fill you with him to the hilt. Its disgusting, lewd-almost pornographic sounds that come from you as his curls stick to his forehead from sweat. He fucks you like an rabid animal, harsh, violent and angry-he doesnt understand whats wrong with him-why he needs it so bad. To feel you clench around him, scream out his name as if everythings normal again, as if he's human again. He presses against your stomach, causing a mixture of a moan and a sob to come from you, as he moves against you faster-harder.

He's on cloud nine when you clamp down on him. Hips stuttering, choked out whimpers falling from him as he buries his face back into your neck to try and stifle his sounds. Stars dance across your vision, and you swear you're drowning-mouth formed in a permanent 'o' shape, thighs trembling as you sink deeper. Crash after crash of ecstasy hits you-coming in relentless hard waves that make you see white. Your speech is slurred, rambling about how you love him so much-need him so much, begging him not to leave you again.

And thats what pushes him over the edge. He knows hes gonna leave you again, abandon you like the piece of shit he is, but the reprieve he has is too good to deny. He cums with a fucking sob, your name echoing from him like a solemn prayer, not even recognizing the fact that he just came inside of you as he holds you to him.

He cleans you up, carrying you back to the aphrodite cabin. Lucky for him, its empty. Most of the year rounders being in his old cabin. Laying you down on the bed, as your eyelids flutter, he sits on the side of your sheets, watching your face until you fall asleep.

And whether its guilt or regret, this time he stays and holds you until he disappears in the morning.

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll #12

[Mermay Special Part 2 a/n This is an interactive story, your choice continues it, so choose wisely!]

"No, we are not! What are you saying?!"

Confused and appalled by your friend's statement, you flinched as they swam closer, placed their arm around your waist, and pulled you towards them. You were about to push them away when the room suddenly burst into loud, merry laughter. It was both a symphony and a cacophony, catching you off-guard and only allowing your friend to press you against them more. And still shaken with surprise, you clung to them.

As frustrating as it was, they were still the safe anchor in all of this, even though you had doubts about how safe they truly were. 

"Well, this is great!" the king, your friend's father, cheered, swimming down from his throne and right up to you, giving you a big hug. "We are so glad our little guppy found his mate!"

You wanted to protest, but his arms around you were so tight that you were scared they'd smash you if you said anything wrong. When you were finally released, you noticed that all of the mermaids had come closer, even the queen, who remained silent. Most were patting your friend on the back, telling them, "Well done!" and you felt some of the merfolks' hands gliding through your hair and touching your hands or shoulders in fleeting motions. It was unbearable. 

Perhaps through your closeness or the way your breathing turned into gasps, gills flaring, your friend noticed the tension shaking through you, gracefully commanding the attention of everyone as they announced, "It's been quite a day of travel to come here. I think we'll retreat for today but thank you all so much for the kind welcome!"

Everyone seemed to buy the excuse your friend was dishing to them. You looked into many warm and kind eyes, giving you only a tiny bit of solace, but it didn't matter right then. All that mattered was your friend guiding you away, pulling you through the water when the tension made it too hard to focus on using your own tail. It wasn't until the door to your room was shut behind you that you felt like you could breathe again, and the mood shifted from panic to anger.

"What was that?! Why did you lie and say we are in love and marrying soon?!"

Your apparent anger fell on deaf ears when your friend simply cocked his head in confusion, unsure how to reply to your accusations. Sighing, you shook your head, feeling a huge headache spread as you rubbed your temples; your attention suddenly diverted to the jewelry on your wrists, countless beaded bracelets and golden hoops now adorning you, and even around your shoulders were strings of pearls, and intricately made necklaces. They were all in places you had been touched before but you hadn't noticed. Immediately, the confusion returned to you, your emotions being thrown for a loop that day.

"I never said we were," he finally replied, swimming down to where you sat on the sandy floor of the room and cupping your cheek. "We're friends, right? I just wanted to make you feel more comfortable and less out of place. That's why I told my family we are best friends."

"No, I heard it. You said we are in love, and your father asked about my intentions to marry you! I'm sure about it!"

They chuckled, adorable dimples forming on their face, and seemingly completely relaxed even when you felt quite the opposite. "Were you that nervous? Our language does sound a little different than yours. Maybe you misinterpreted it?"

There was no getting through to your friend, who kept denying what you heard! That and the headache made you feel miserable, and you barely listened as your friend babbled on. "I want to go home," you mumbled, exhaustion washing over you. 

"Oh, I know a place! It's great for sunbathing, and everyone there enjoys the waves rushing around them! We should go and check it out!"

It was so hard to follow your friend's words, but that wasn't at all what you wanted. You wanted to go home! Or at least... rest. This had all been too much for you, and the headache was tiring you out. But should you really rest in this unfamiliar place? Home was just a portal jump away, should you insist on leaving? 

A hand fell into your vision, outstretched and inviting. Your friend was smiling down at you, entirely at peace, even though your inner conflict raked at your nerves. Their shoulders were relaxed, expression kind and compassionate as they looked at the sorry state you were in. 

"I should really go home," you mumbled and they gave you an understanding nod. 

"Right away. We'll check out the sunspot, and then we'll go home, I promise. It's not far, I'll guide you."

Their hand popped up again, inviting you to take it, although you were conflicted about what to do. You wanted to insist on leaving now, but they also promised to take you home afterward. It could be the little adventure in this supernatural world that you could tell your future children. You took a deep breath through your gills, bracing yourself, the headache subsiding a little as you gathered all your strength.

(Reasoning and discussions welcome! ♥)

[its-all-stardust]

Heyy

I’ve always have had a weak spot for sensory deprived matt (like when he looses his hearing). The angst and neediness that may come from it. So maybe for an idea what about a matt x reader…Let’s say the weeks or days that it takes for him to recover and how that affects him and the relationship as he’s not used being the one in need of help and is momentarily no longer Daredevil, as well as all of the complications not hearing may entail.

(Also unrelated but if you could add a cat as a pet just like a little detail it would be fantastic jsjs )

Thanks !

Ask and ye may receive! Sorry this took a month to get out, but I'm bad at prioritizing my hobbies and even worse at editing my fics once I finish writing them (this took like a week and a half to edit because my brain is dumb lasjdfljs)

I really hope you enjoy this fic (and yes I included a cat!!)

And as for the other requests I got, don't worry, they're still handing around. I started writing the next chapter of Sugar and want to finish that up before jumping to the next request!

Masterlist

Matt Murdock/GN!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Matt refused to let go of you in those first few days. The world didn’t feel right, he said. You made it better, letting him know he was still alive—that you were still alive. He would press his ear to your chest, begging for the sound of your heartbeat.

Matt thought he died after the homemade bomb went off next to his head. Maybe he had finally died in an explosion, no underwater cavern-turned-sewer saving him. Maybe the shrapnel got him. A piece of metal penetrating his suit and making it to his heart or brain.

But no. He was still alive. Everything was just…gone. Or rather, it felt like it was.

He’d experienced it before, the loss of his hearing. This time was different, though. Age or one too many hits to the head, neither of you had figured it out. All you knew was that it had been days, and nothing was as it should have been for Matt.

His hearing wasn’t gone completely, as what happened before, but it was so dulled, to him, it was like he was practically deaf. Touch and smell were still sensitive, but their intensity felt lessened in the face of losing yet another of his senses.

It left the world around him feeling empty.

“I have to go to work, Matty,” you said gently, stroking a hand through his hair.

Matt sighed and held you tighter. He hadn’t even heard your alarm go off. No matter how deeply he slept before, he could always hear the tinny tune of a violin playing through cracking speakers. Now, there was nothing unless he was already on the verge of waking up.

“Can’t you stay?” Matt asked, refusing to remove his weight from your body, still pinning you to the bed.

“It’s been a week,” you explained, regret filling your voice. “I have to go back.”

You stayed with him because he needed you. The bomb—and the fight leading up to the explosion—did enough damage to his body that you wouldn’t have left him alone in the first place. Adding his dulled hearing meant you definitely weren’t going to leave him.

But it had been a week, and Matt’s external injuries were healing well. However, there didn’t seem to be any sign that his hearing would return. As far as you could figure since Matt barely had a basis for comparison—he has had heightened sense for the majority of his life and barely remembers what it was like not being able to hear a heartbeat from across the room—his hearing was like that of a non-enhanced person.

At this point, it could very well be Matt’s new normal.

Both of you agreed that he shouldn’t go to the hospital. Very few things could make Daredevil seek professional treatment, and considering he was still breathing, he wasn’t going anywhere. And if he did go, there would be the trouble of trying to convince a doctor that Matt has hearing loss when he can still hear you speaking at a normal volume across the open spaces of your apartment.

He was also holding out hope that his hearing would return to normal. Temporary hearing loss from loud sounds is well documented. In another week, Matt may very well be back in the suit, counting the number of goons in a warehouse through the walls.

But nothing was certain.

You tried shifting out from under Matt, but he squeezed you and whispered, “Please.”

“You’re not helpless, Matt.” You loved your boyfriend but couldn’t stand letting him mope around the apartment with you for another day, praying something would change. He needed to try. Maybe if you weren’t around, he finally would.

Matt didn’t move for a moment, still lying on top of you. Then, he silently lifted himself off you and rolled over, burying his face in the pillow on his side of the bed.

“Matt?” you called, seeing the tension in his shoulders. You hated seeing him like this.

“Go,” he said, voice flat, almost lifeless. You touched his shoulder, but he flinched at the contact.

You sighed, giving him one last look before climbing out of bed to start getting ready for work.

“I’ll let Foggy and Karen know you know you’re still not feeling well,” you told him just before you left. You had walked back into the bedroom and stood at his side, giving him another chance to speak to you.

Still, he said nothing. In fact, you were sure he was pretending to be asleep.

Regardless, you leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

With that, you left Matt. Alone.

When he was younger, Matt was used to being alone. As he got older, though, it became a thing of the past. Even if one of his friends wasn’t nearby, there would inevitably be some noise that rose above the din, breaking through the unintelligible cacophony of voices and sounds to remind him that there were always people around.

Now, without you in the apartment for the first time since the explosion, it was as if he was the only person left in the world. 

He was almost afraid to leave the bed. What if he tried stepping out of the room and fell into the void? What if this was a special Hell just for him? The fear was irrational, he knew, but he came close to death so many times now a part of him would always wonder if he truly was still alive.

But then he heard something he couldn’t ignore: the very distinct yowl of a very persistent cat. It was the sound she usually made when begging for food.

You must have forgotten to feed her before you left.

Whatever he thought of himself, of you, then, didn’t matter. Beans, the short-haired calico you and Matt adopted a couple of years ago, let out a particularly annoyed screech from the bedroom doorway, and Matt knew she’d be in his face in a moment if he didn’t follow her wishes.

After filling her bowl, he lay on the couch, not having the energy to go back to the bedroom. A few minutes later, after the crunching of the kibble stopped, Matt’s breath got knocked out of him when Beans launched herself onto his stomach.

Afraid of knocking her off, he held still while Beans walked across his body. She took a place on his pillow, wrapped herself around his head, and started purring.

At least the cat wanted to stay with him.

When you came home, you didn’t know what you’d find. Matt hadn’t answered your call at lunch, though you weren’t surprised, not after what you said and how he reacted.

You certainly didn’t expect to see him sitting on the floor, back against the couch, playing with Beans. He held a plastic stick in his hand, making her chase the bundle of feathers attached to it with an elastic string. 

“How are you feeling?” you asked carefully, stopping next to Matt and interrupting playtime. “You didn’t answer the phone earlier.”

Matt let the toy drop, Beans mauling it immediately. “Fine.”

You waited for more. He knew you were waiting. After a moment of nothing but the sound of Beans dragging the toy out of Matt’s hand and across the floor, you gave up and went to the bedroom to change.

During dinner, the air between you and Matt remained tense.

“I’m pretty sure Foggy and Karen are going to break down the door tomorrow if they don’t hear from you,” you said, trying to prompt Matt into some sort of conversation. This past week, he hadn’t wanted you more than an arm’s length away, needing to feel you, hear your voice. Now, he was doing his best not to acknowledge your existence.

“They won’t need to. I’m going back into the office.” There wasn’t any feeling to his words.

“You are?” you asked, surprised. When you last tried having that talk the other day, he shut you down, saying he couldn’t.

“I’m not helpless,” Matt sneered, throwing your words from this morning back at you and making you flinch. He didn’t notice, though, unable to perceive other people as well as he once did.

You said nothing more, and Matt got up from the table, done with dinner and the conversation.

That night, in bed, he stayed on his side.

“Matt,” you called softly. You reached out to touch his back. “What I said this morning—”

“Forget it,” he said, cutting you off. He didn’t want your apology. “Let’s just go to sleep.”

Maybe you should have tried harder to talk to him, to apologize for hurting him, but you didn’t. Instead, you rolled over so the two of you would be back to back and fell asleep.

Try as he might, Matt couldn’t focus. More than once, Karen or Foggy caught him losing himself in the middle distance. Like the past week, Matt was prone to sitting in silence, unmoving, unthinking, waiting for his hearing to return. While a fine thing to do at home, it caused concern and frustration at the office when his partners were trying to get him up to speed on their cases.

Though not usually one to coddle, Foggy asked if Matt was even ready to return to work.

“Maybe you should go home for the day, and we’ll pick this back up tomorrow,” Foggy said after the fourth attempt to regain Matt’s attention.

Matt gritted his teeth. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t have t—” Karen started.

“I can do this,” Matt insisted, not letting her finish.

Nothing more was said on the topic, and Matt was able to keep from falling into the void. He didn’t let himself stop, moving from one task to another almost manically. He didn’t even realize the end of the day arrived until Karen touched his shoulder, urging him to go home.

And then Matt was lost again.

It took him longer than usual to get home that day. Not because he lost his way but because he knew when he finally made it home, the whole day would repeat again.

He’d get up, go to work, come home, and still not be able to hear as he should.

Most importantly, he’d have to forgo being Daredevil.

To Matt, this didn’t feel like a natural end to the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, making it hard to reconcile that that part of his life was over. There was still so much he had to do, so much he would be capable of doing. If he had the full scope of his abilities.

He wasn’t ready for it to end.

“Hey,” you said when Matt finally walked through the door. You’d been waiting for him, had even left work early on the chance he did too so you could be with him. You didn’t call when he didn’t arrive at his usual time. You weren’t sure he would have answered if you had.

Since then, you’ve been nervously awating his return. With how he took your comment the previous day and his brushing off your attempt to apologize, you weren’t sure what he’d be like today.

“How was work?” you asked when he didn’t respond, trying to sound like it was any other day and that his frigidness didn’t bother you.

“Fine,” Matt sighed, giving no sign of elaborating.

“You wanna help with dinner?” you asked tentatively, unable to parse out his mood and not wanting to answer any potential resentment with a negative response.

Matt nodded, subdued, and moved toward the kitchen, not bothering to change.

You wished you knew how to help him.

As it neared two in the morning, something rustled in the other room. 

Living in New York City, having a cat, and being with Matt made you immune to certain sounds at all hours of the night, but this past week, you seem to have gotten used to certain sounds not coming from inside your apartment.

You knew immediately what it was before you even opened your eyes. You thought nothing of it at first and were tempted to nuzzle deeper into your pillow. It took a moment for recent memory to come back to you, reminding you that you shouldn’t be hearing the sounds of Matt’s suit being dragged out of its hiding place.

“What are you doing?” you asked after stepping out of the bedroom and spying Matt in the dim light from the windows pulling his suit from his father’s old trunk. He jumped, dropping his suit and turning to face you. You’d never been able to sneak up on Matt before.

“I need to go,” Matt said, voice stern.

“And what do you think will happen?” You stepped over to him and crossed your arms.

“I’ll be fine.” He’s told you that multiple times, and you didn’t believe him for a second.

“You didn’t even notice I was behind you. Apparently, you didn’t even hear me get out of bed, and that mattress creaks like nobody’s business.”

Matt clenched his jaw, his fists twitching at his side. “I can do this. I know I can. Maybe if I just—”

“Just what?” you interrupted. “If you just got your head knocked around a couple more times, your hearing would come back?” When he didn’t respond, you assumed that was precisely what he intended to do.

Your heart started to race. You worried about Matt as it was when he was in perfect health. You didn’t want to think about what would happen to him if he went out as a regular man.

“Matt, I can’t let you do that,” you said gently.

“You can,” he argued, fist clenched in the top half of his suit that he still held out in front of him.

Stepping forward, you placed your hands on his, subtly trying to loosen his grip.

“It’s too dangerous.” You shook your head. “Maybe in the future, once you’ve had more time to adapt. But right now? It’s just not a good idea.”

Matt was frozen in place. You waited, the seconds ticking by, wanting to see what he would do.

Then the suit slipped from Matt’s fingers, falling in a heap back into the trunk.

If Matt had been cold to you before, the following few days were worse.

He’d managed to wake before you and practically run from the apartment as soon as he realized you were awake. Matt has never done anything to hurt you. Sure, there were small things here and there, as with most couples, but never something like this. Never something so intentional.

Was he trying to hurt you, or was he just trying to protect himself? Did he think he wouldn’t be reminded of everything that’s changed if he stayed away from you?

Either way, you knew you needed to talk, yet some part of you wanted to wait for Matt to come to you. But Matt was as stubborn as you were, and you didn’t want to lose him more than you already had.

“Are you going to talk to me today?” you asked over dinner, letting some of the hurt you’d been feeling slip through.

For the most part, Matt had avoided saying more than a few words to you. At night, you both were careful to stay on your own sides of the bed.

It was like living with a roommate who didn’t particularly care for you.

“There’s not much to say,” Matt said, focusing intently on his food. “Work wasn’t anything special today.”

He had actually made dinner that night, volunteered for it, in fact. You had hoped that meant he would be more willing to talk to you, sort out whatever it was he felt you were the cause of. 

Apparently, you were wrong.

“Do you blame me for what happened to you?” If he wouldn’t bring it up, that meant you had to.

Matt shook his head. “You weren’t even there.”

“So you’re upset because I stopped you from going out the other night,” you concluded.

“No,” Matt said immediately, but the words lacked any sort of feeling.

“Then what? What is it? Because you’re not acting like the Matt I know.”

He was still. Then, quietly, “Because I’m not.”

He’s not that man anymore, and Matt thought, not for the first time, that you didn’t deserve to be with something as disappointing as him.

You had been talking to Karen and Foggy. Matt didn’t need his enhanced hearing to figure that out. He didn’t know what the three of you talked about, but he knew he was the general topic.

His friends tried harder to get him to go out, make plans, but he always declined, coming up with one excuse or another.

It went on like that for another week. Matt tried to make more of an effort with you and Foggy and Karen, but he still wasn’t his usual self. He wasn’t who he was before and didn’t know if he would ever be again.

He didn’t know what to do at all. He was just going through the motions, and because of that, he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was when you finally said something.

Matt had been sitting at the kitchen table, the paperwork he wasn’t reading as carefully as he should have been spread across it. Truthfully, Beans was making more use of it as a bed than Matt was after he shooed her off his laptop.

When you walked up to him, Beans immediately awoke, releasing a chirp and standing. She hopped from the table to wind herself between your legs. She had always favored you but had been sticking closer to Matt the past couple of weeks as if sensing his distress.

“Do you want me to leave?” you asked without preamble, and Matt froze. Before, he would have sensed the stuttering of your heart, the nervous shaking in your hands. He would have had a warning before you worked up the courage to say something that would be difficult.

This time, though, he was blind-sided.

“What?” was the only thing he could make come out of his mouth.

Matt didn’t want you to leave. Yes, he was a disappointment to you and knew you needed better. But he loved you, and he was still as selfish as ever.

But…if you no longer loved him, if you wanted to leave…

“No, of course not,” he finally said. He licked his lips, a nervous habit. “But…”

“But what?” you asked sharply.

Were your arms crossed? Or your hands on your hips? Were you running a hand over your face in anger? Frustration? Was your chest tight with fear of what he would say? Matt can still figure out some movements, can still feel the shift in the air, but some things, especially when he’s stressed, are lost to him.

“But I won’t stop you...if you want to leave,” he finished quietly.

You didn’t move; didn’t make a sound. Matt strained his ears, focused entirely on you, trying to pick on anything.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you spit. You stepped toward Matt, and Beans skittered away, her claws scratching on the floor.

“I’m not going to make you stay with me. Now now that I…that I’m like this.”

Will you yell? You never have before, but he’s different now. Maybe you are, too.

“Matt.” His name is an exasperated sigh on your lips. Then your hands are on his face, gently cradling it like he was a precious thing. “You’re not a different person, even though you’re acting like it. And I’m not dating you because of what you could hear.”

Matt shakes his head. “I’m not what I once was. I’m not—” He choked on the words. “I’m not Daredevil.”

It was the first time he said it out loud.

“Just because you’re not Daredevil doesn’t mean you can’t help people. You were a lawyer long before you put on that suit. That doesn’t stop just because you put it away.”

That was true. Matt had been Daredevil for so long that sometimes it was hard for him to think beyond it.

Your hands dropped from his face, and Matt threw a hand out, not wanting you to leave him. His hand landed on your waist and twisted into your shirt to keep you close. He had lied when he said he wouldn’t stop you.

“I’ll tell you now, though,” you started. You didn’t move away, but neither did you touch him. “You can’t keep acting like you have been. You can’t keep shutting me out. Can’t keep shutting Karen and Foggy out. You need to start living again.”

Matt went quiet.

“So, what are you going to do?” you asked after a moment.

“You’re not going to leave?” Matt asked, his voice soft and quiet, almost like he didn’t want you to hear.

You sighed, and Matt’s heart seized until he heard the light, teasing tone of your voice.

“Depends on what your answer is.”

Matt pulled you into him so he could wrap his arms around you. You didn’t object and let him hold you.

You were right.

Matt was pushing everyone and everything away again. He had done it before, and it didn’t work out. His friends wouldn’t let him. He should have known better than to think they would let him slip away.

“I’m sorry I…” He wasn’t sure how to put it. “I’m sorry I stopped trying.” Then he corrected himself. “I’m sorry I gave up.”

Your arms settled around his shoulders. “That I wasn’t there for you enough.”

Matt started to shake his head. He had been acting like the world had ended. Like a child withdrawing from the world when it got too scary. Your words were the push he needed.

“I could have done something better,” you said, already knowing he would try to shoulder all the blame. “You’re allowed to tell me I need to do better. Just like I’m allowed to do the same. You don’t have to do it, but I still get to say it.”

Matt gave a small smile, the tugging on his lips an unfamiliar feeling.

This felt…normal.

“We’ll both do better. Deal?” he asked, a lightness returning to him, missing since the night of the explosion.

“Deal,” you answered and kissed him.

[xxsycamore]

Ok so like hrengtadzk💀

Napo and MC fucking but like the unlocked door. Someone walks in. huehuehuehue

Basically I'm gonna say it again cuz I was being incoherent. Napo and MC run off in the middle of the day (like you said in your public sex hcs about him) and someone does catch them behind a (un)locked. There's people who get off of it me

Pretty that's exhibitionism but somewhat without consent

Ludy your imagination is dangerous

Napoleon + getting caught

Yes, it happens exactly how you pictured it, riding off the waves of excitement brought by the risk, with Napoleon teasing about how "Anyone could walk in, but we don't have to worry because you claimed you can be quiet, isn't that right?", being confident about his own ability to remain alert while fucking you. And truly, he is helping you stay quiet, be it by commanding you to bite the pillow or by clasping his hand tightly around your mouth.

Still, it's bound to happen sooner or later. Maybe he was too worked up and couldn't wait to pounce on you, maybe he fiddled with the key but never actually turned it in the lock... Suddenly the world has narrowed down to the two of you, all heavy breaths and rustling clothing and shallow thrusts that minimize the wet noises of copulation and the sweet nothings he says in your ear, making you toss your head to one side and then the other as if you want to deny the obscene thoughts he puts in your head... and you both get a little too much into it. And the door creaks open, the sound falling on deaf ears, as someone walks in.

Luckily, with those quickies, Napoleon always happens to be on top of you. It's only natural, that way he'd have complete control over every move, and you have to leave it to the commander in the room to conduct his strategy when the stakes are that high. It ends up working in your favor when you get caught in the act. Napoleon is the first to react, senses sharpened with years in the making from his past life, and even though his muscles tense, he remains completely still, shielding you with his body. You might have a more jumpy reaction, but he's got you in his grasp, knowing that it's best for you to remain where you are rather than try to crawl out from underneath him.

Not that the unfortunate resident who walked in would stay for long enough that you and Napoleon have to consider separating from each other. The guy excuses himself in the very next second and is out of sight before you can get a grasp of what's happening. You probably missed it, but it was something in Napoleon's eyes that drove him away. The door is slammed shut again and Napoleon is still buried inside you.

For someone who is always making himself available and cares deeply about helping his housemates, you understand that if that person remained just a second longer here, it would have meant that the mansion was burning down. At the very least.

Now, his following actions would be completely decided by your own reaction to what happened. He'll get on his elbows to have a better look at your face, he'll caress it and ask if you're alright. He'll say he's sorry for being so reckless. He will not touch you anymore if you got turned off by it.

But if you didn't... if you let him know that you're genuinely okay with what happened, if you rock your hips into his and show him how much you want him still... he won't be able to hold back anymore. He'll pin your hands down to the bed and fuck into you with new vigor, not even understanding himself in that moment. It could be his possessiveness clawing at him, making him want to erase the other person's presence from your mind completely. Even if they likely didn't get a glimpse of anything else than your face, isn't that enough to feel jealous over? Those are the lewd expressions that you do only for him. Noone else gets to see them.

Or maybe that's exactly what he achieved. By showing how much he owned you in that moment.

As a whole, it's pretty much hit or miss for him - largely decided by his partner's reaction to it, but also because the pleasure he gets out of it is momentarily and he'd be thinking about it afterward with an aftertaste of jealousy and regret in his mouth. He's not going to feel awkward facing the resident afterwards but he might still have to mention something about it, depending on who it was.

The situation ranges from Arthur's flirty "ohhh, space for one more ;) ?" (he's just trying to make it less awkward before he walks out of the room. i think.) to Isaac being traumatized for at least a week, to Sebastian rushing to his room to write in his diary, to Theo complaining out loud while he walks away about how he already has to be mindful of the same thing happening with Arthur and how he's this close to moving out.

5/10 "Liar. You're saying you liked it just a little bit, but I felt you tightening around me. Is this turning you on that much? Being watched as I take you? Do you wish they'd stayed longer, so you can make it clear to them how I'm the only one who can claim you, leave you well-loved and leaking my cum? You'll regret leaving me with this information, Nunuche."

-> (ALWAYS OPEN) send me a kink & I’ll give you a headcanon and rating for Napoleon!

🦶foot fetish 🥵breeding kink 🥕pregging 😈dom/sub 🍈breast kink ⛓bondage 🩸period kink 👄marking 🐺predator/prey 🏙public sex 🤗praise kink 👅 cunnilingus 🍌blowjobs (receiving)

[rosemary-morgan]

Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part1)

(Pictures found on pinterest/google. That one with Javier is mine. Collage made by me 🌺)

Many thanks to @fangirl-ramblings 🖤 she has been beta reading for me 🌹

And thanks to all who read and like my stories. Stay healthy and take care, my lovely bees 🐝🌺 You have no idea how much this means to me. I hope you will enjoy this story too!

👉Read Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Warning: angst, arguments

Summary: You thought that nothing could tear you and Javier apart, but nothing lasts forever. And after so many years you still shed tears for him. The nights without him are lonely and cold. You would give anything to see him just one more time. To touch him one last time...

Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part1)

"Javi, please! Can't you see what's going on?!"

"Y/N! Come with me or you're going to die! Don't you understand?!"

His hands had a tight grip on your shoulders, which was now starting to hurt a little. There was pure desperation in his gaze because he couldn't and wouldn't see that you weren't choosing his path.

"You will be the one who will die if you continue to follow Dutch, Javier!"

Did he really think she would let him run to his doom? Why was this man so damn stubborn? So blinded by pride?!

"Are you one of them now, Y/N?! Are you turning your back on Dutch too?!"

Javier didn't even wait for an answer, but pulled you behind him without warning. If you wouldn't go voluntarily, then he would have to force you to go. Javier did it out of love for you, because he firmly believed that his way was the right one. Oh, how blinded he was by Dutch. And Micah… that viper! Like poison creeping through his veins, Javier was now completely poisoned by Micah's words, his lies.

As much as you loved Javier, you couldn't go with him. Javier paused as you tore yourself away from him. Furrowing his brow, he looked you straight in the eye, searching for an explanation for your actions.

"Javier, I'm not going anywhere where Dutch or Micah will be!"

"What the fuck, Y/N?!"

Javier's voice suddenly got louder, something he had never done to you before. You couldn't even stay mad at him. The only thing you felt was pity and fear; the fear of losing him for good. And you feared that you would. You had grown apart over the last few weeks, barely touching each other, not even kissing. Javier had sat with Micah constantly, letting Dutch use him like a puppet.

"Micah is the rat! He betrayed us! And Dutch is on the verge of despair!"

But your words seemed to be falling on deaf ears because it seemed like Javier just didn't even care what you said.

"Come with me, Javier!" Quite desperate, you clawed at his arms, looking up at him hopefully. Maybe something would get through to him! It was worth a shot!

"I owe Dutch my life, Y/N!"

"He doesn't own it though! Stop saying things like that!"

Suddenly, gunfire rang through the forest. It seemed to be a firefight, farther away, but close enough to hear them clearly. Beaver Hollow was no longer safe. This place had been cursed from the beginning! You were convinced of that.

Javier immediately pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him, and in that moment you realized how serious this whole story was. But it also showed you that he cared for your safety. Closing your eyes for a moment, you enjoy the closeness with Javier. But your peace was not to last long. You hear horses approaching. It was Dutch, followed by Micah and his new "friends". Your withering gaze carries Micah with full force and his cold eyes just stare at you. He knew exactly what you thought of him and he also knew that you didn't trust him one bit. He couldn't fool you, so you were a danger to him. A danger that had to be eradicated. Like a venomous insect that needed to be squashed immediately.

And in the end, Micah and Dutch had succeeded in robbing you of the most precious thing in life. You will never be able to forget Javier's last words. Like a sharp blade of a dagger, they had pierced your heart.

"Well, fuck you then, Y/N! Go you traitor! Go die with them!"

♦♦♦♦

It has been five years now. Five years ago, your family had broken apart. Because of a man who had lost his mind at the end. Because he had trusted the wrong people at the end of his road. You'd never forgive Dutch for what he'd done to Arthur… To him and all the others. How he had taken Javier away from you. The man you had loved so much and still do. Not a day went by that you didn't think about him. The eternal long nights in which you lay in bed crying and restless because the longing was too great. You had believed that it would get better with time, but you had been very wrong. Now you felt only loneliness and emptiness, because your soul piece was missing. Still, you had hope that Javier had survived and perhaps lived a good life. Yes, maybe he had moved on. Like you had. Like John and Abigail. Or like Tilly and Mary-Beth. All of you had moved on, had managed to join society, to live an honest life.

"Wonderful, Y/N. I'll send you the fabrics you ordered then. It usually takes a couple of weeks."

"Thank you Mister Oelson!"

"My pleasure. And here's another little something for you!"

Mister Oelson provided you with fabrics because you were a dressmaker and you worked from home. And the best fabric just happened to be at Saint Denis. Besides, you had been buying so much from Oelson's merchandise over the past few years that you were getting discounts, which of course was very good for you.

"This is from my wife and me. As a thank you, for the beautiful dress you made for her!"

The gift from Mister Oelson was wrapped in such a way that you couldn't even guess what must be hiding inside.

"Oh, that's very kind of you! Thank you. Pass on my thanks to your wife. How is Harriet, then?"

"Oh, you know her. She makes a mountain out of a molehill. It's just a little cold, that's all."

Mr. Oelson laughed softly, making you smile with his words.

Mr. and Mrs. Oelson were a married couple in their late forties. They were very friendly and their merchandise was really popular in Saint Denis. One could purchase just about anything from them. Fine fabrics, perfume, fine wine, and jewelry as well. They had made a good name for themselves in Saint Denis.

"Goodbye, Mister Oelson. See you soon!"

And with that, you left the store, satisfied and happy with your order, which was soon to be delivered to you. It was already late in the afternoon and actually you would have liked to spend some more time in Saint Denis, but you still had a long journey home ahead of you. You lived in Strawberry, had made yourself at home there. It was a wonderful place, out in the fields, where you had fertile land to grow many things. Of course, all this didn't fall into your lap. It had been a long, hard road to where you were now. In the first years after you were on your own, you had worked hard, had to listen to many negative things as a single, young woman. Harassment had been the order of the day, but that had not upset you. And now you were your own boss, able to do what you loved from your home. Making beautiful clothes. It helped you to get other thoughts, but sometimes it happened that you thought back to the past and in such moments, you couldn't help but shed many tears.

Just as you entered the train station to buy a ticket, you saw the many people standing there. They looked angry. Some had their suitcases with them, probably eagerly waiting for their connection.

"Oh, miss. Excuse me, but all train service has been suspended for the day!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"There's been an accident on the line from Blackwater to Saint Denis."

With a soft sigh, you glanced at your watch. Well, there was probably nothing you could do about the situation, so it wouldn't do you much good to fret.

"Miss, it's getting dark outside. The streets aren't very safe here at night in Saint Denis."

You smiled at the police officers, nodding. You knew how dangerous Saint Denis was, even during the day.

"Thank you, officer."

A shrill and loud whistle was heard, followed by a yelling police officer, apparently trying to restrain a few of the travelers. You were getting too stressed out in all this chaos and without further ado, you started looking for a suitable place to stay.

Just as you were about to leave the station, you noticed a scent. A scent that you would recognize among thousands of people. Instantly you stopped, your heart stopped for a moment. Could it be? Your eyes grew wide as memories were evoked in you. Spicy lavender. It was just a small whiff in the air, but it was so intense for you. "Javier…" You frowned, looking down at the floor, trying to sort out your thoughts in the moment. No, that could be anyone here! Anyone could smell like spicy lavender! Or maybe your mind was just playing tricks on you. The worst part of the whole thing was the feeling of disappointment. Every time you had to realize that he wasn't there. Who knew where Javier was? Still, your eyes kept a lookout for him. But he was nowhere to be seen. There were only loud, strange people here. But the feeling of being watched was very intense. Still, without wasting any more time, you left this place and went to a hotel where you would spend the night. Hoping that tomorrow morning you could return back home. It will be another restless night for you…

♦♦♦♦

Looking up into the night sky, smoke slowly rose from his lungs to ascend into the dark night. Javier watched as the smoke slowly dissipated. He couldn't believe that he had actually found you. He had been looking for you for so long, but now he didn't have the courage to face you. Not after what he had done. You would probably send him packing if he suddenly faced you without warning. And he wouldn't even blame you. But his longing for you had driven him on. The thought of you had very often kept him from doing stupid things.

Since the thing with Dutch, Micah… and Arthur, nothing good had happened in his life. He was a lone wolf; though he kept telling himself that he didn't deserve it any other way…

[nomoreusername]

Lily Of The Valley (Part 1)

Pairing:Aris x female reader

Summary:The collapse of WICKED meant spending another one of Aris's birthdays hidden from the world.

Our lives weren't getting better any time soon. With the way the Mazes had collapsed in on themselves, there were very few of us left. Even the professional WICKED workers' had abandoned this place at the end of everything. Now the old sanction was essentially isolated.

I believe the worst part wasn't the deaths themselves. It was the fact that in just a few more days the last of us were set to go up.

Life though, had other plans.

The skies from both Mazes started glitching, giving the Glade snow and the Spring heat, causing their crops to wither away to nothing more than soil. Then, the rains started, soaking and flooding every inch of that place, and leaving the Runners and Skaters unable to do their jobs. Eventually, all this change made the pipes burst, leaving them without water.

Before you think we didn't try, we sent up box after box with supplies. Fresh food, clean water, extra clothes, thick blankets, dry towels, new shoes, and every item you could think of was provided while the last five of us, Thomas, Teresa, Rachel, Aris, and I, worked on discovering what had malfunctioned the code. For only three weeks we were empty handed until we looked at the past footage of the Maze, where we saw Newt and his message to WICKED. We watched him scale the sides of the wall with nothing but a measly vine before reaching the top.

Despite it being obvious what was happening, he's only human, so his urge to know if there was more, won as he reached his hands for the sky. Instead of anything he could have prepared for, he slumped to the ground.

Still, as we examined the footage closer, we saw the black hole from where he had touched it, showing that he had ripped the barrier between the two Mazes. Realizing nothing would solve that, we argued over pulling everyone out of the Trials altogether when there was this muffled yet ear splitting sound. Barely a second later pieces of the ceiling started falling.

It was split. Rachel, Thomas, and I ran towards the box in a desperate attempt to pull everyone out, while Teresa and Aris ran to the control rooms to close down everything so that whatever had happened inside wouldn't affect them.

Unfortunately, we're a package deal. So the Right Arms little device was the final straw for this place.

Rachel, bless her soul, tried to disengage one she found stuck to the wall. Somehow, she managed to do it. Trusting her, Thomas and I stepped into the boxes as she moved on to another.

Only this time, the bombs were too quick. With another explosion, everything collapsed. I'm 100% sure the only reason Thomas and I are alive is because of the metal boxes surrounding us, enclosing out bodies.

Still, all that debris and ringing in my ears caused me to go unconscious.

Of course, there are worse things to be. I would tell you to ask Rachel, but we couldn't even piece all of her together if we tried.

By the time I woke up I felt myself being dragged off. Looking up, I saw Aris pulling me with him, visibly limping, before shutting me in the room where Teresa was treating Thomas's head wound.

From what I heard, his leg ended up stuck under loose bricks while they were running, breaking his ankle. While she did snap it back into place, to this day, he still has that limp. In fact, we all have something. For me, the noise damaged my eardrums, leaving me completely deaf in my left ear and with below average hearing in my right. Thomas has scars, some fainter than others, on his face, neck, and chest. Teresa ended up breaking her right wrist from the amount of effort to help everyone. With adrenaline pumping through her, she snapped it back but was unable to treat it. Now she can't move her fingers on her left hand. And Rachel was blown into tiny pieces so she's dead.

We all tried, but it wasn't enough.

We went back for the subjects' bodies when we felt we could. Burying everyone that had most of themselves intact, we made graves just like the Baggers had, by hand and shovel. Placing them inside, we made tombstones with their names in any color we could find. Any color but red. After the amount of crimson soaked onto fabric, walls, floors, ground and snow, we had had enough of that color for a lifetime.

After that, we savaged what we were able. While on our hunt for canned food we came across a bomb shelter. Apparently, nobody thought that was good information. To this day, I don't know if them not guiding everyone towards it before the explosion or when this all started is worse.

If I had to answer though, it would be the fact that they knew this place would kill everyone but didn't even warn us. They just left, leaving us to deal with the mess. My guess is they expected us all to die.

Now we live down here. As immunes in a world that hates us, and past WICKED workers, it's for the best.

To make things easier, we split us up into groups. The original partners, Thomas and Teresa, were a packaged deal so they got their own wall we couldn't see through. I was merely a fill in, and now I would be a permanent one. So Aris and I got our side, and that was that. While we still talk, this was just the easiest thing in terms of sleeping and rations.

We honestly don't know much of what they get up to since the separated walls are soundproof, making it our own homes. While there are times with board games, VHS's, or music, we didn't go into deep conversations. While Teresa and Thomas probably had their own, Aris and I were all we needed for that.

We didn't move on after. You don't just forget something like that. It's just that our only other choice was pitying ourselves forever, and it would be pathetic to do so when we are still alive.

Three weeks ago marked the third year since the incident. In those three years, we had found a few things out. Apparently, our names aren't ours. Teresa is actually DeeDee, Thomas is Stephen, Aris is Caleb, and mine is Y/R/N. Still, seeing as we don't remember having them, we don't use them. Another thing. At the time of the incident Teresa was seventeen, along with Thomas, Aris was nineteen, and I was eighteen. So now it's two groups of twenty year olds, stuck on their own. While that should be an irresponsible group, we aren't most people.

We also found our birthdays. Today was Aris's, June 17th. So he chose a movie, The Never Ending Story, and we all watched it while eating dinner. After it was over, we played Candy Land before they left.

I still had one more thing. It was small, as expected, but it was something.

Giving him a vanilla cupcake, I lit the candle and told him to make a wish. Looking at me for a moment, he then closed his eyes and mumbled before blowing it out.

"You made it another year,"I whispered.

"Yeah. I did,"He nodded, unwrapping the sweet treat and cutting it directly in half. "Here,"He said, handing it over.

"It's not my birthday,"I shrugged.

"No, but it's a thank you. For being here and giving me hope when there wasn't any,"He told me, still expectantly holding it out.

"I didn't give you anything,"I sighed, accepting it anyway because I know exactly how stubborn he is.

"You gave me this cupcake."

"You know what I mean. I haven't done much but exist."

"You've stayed beside me."

"I kind of have to."

"Just take the compliment."

"I already took the cupcake. Don't be greedy,"I sighed, rolling my eyes before taking a bite. While it wasn't as sweet as it could be, that wasn't unexpected. Despite the way this food was supposed to last for decades, rationing is still very much needed, even for little treats. The icing and small sprinkles helped though, and it wasn't dry so all in all, it wasn't a bad dessert.

"I learned from the best,"He said in a light tone. Rolling my eyes again, I nudged his good leg before taking a second bite.

"So one more movie?"He offered, doing the same.

"Yeah. Just turn up the volume this time."

"You seriously didn't say anything while the last movie was playing?"He pointed out, looking through the pile as I sat in front of the couch, leaning against it.

"Not while the Double T's are over,"I shrugged.

"I doubt they'd mind."

"And I would. Inconveniencing you is one thing, probably my favorite thing actually. We just don't see those two enough for it to be fun."

"As hard as you try, you don't. I love you too much,"He responded, putting a VHS into the player and rewinding it.

"Yeah. There's something wrong with you for that,"I pointed out, leaning completely against the couch and pulling the sheet from it.

"Well, you're my best friend so if something's wrong with me something's wrong with you."

"Gee. I wonder why I could be your only friend,"I deadpanned.

"That gets funnier every time you say it,"He replied in the same blank tone, pressing start before I could see what he picked. Turning up the volume, when the previews started I could hear it just enough.

All Parts

"I know,"I nodded as he sat beside me. Getting under the same blanket, we stayed beside each other as the movie played.

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[eksentrismi]

Have I rambled here yet about my J&H-AU, in which Jekyll's soul is stuck inside an old CRT monitor/computer??? No?????

Anyways, rambling time then. Lots of text under text cut, lmao, this post gets long <3

I'm copying this stuff off my Discord messages:

Basically yes, he died but instead of going to actual proper afterlife... this Jekyll's soul got basically stuck inside a 1990's/early 2000's CRT monitor, but whatever computer is attached to him; he can control it freely whenever it's on or in sleep mode. Also all the devices (like the microphone, headphones, speakers, webcam etc.) that are attached onto that computer, he can access freely. But he uses those as his senses pretty much, as his hearing and sight primarily. Like the microphone for example, it's his ears pretty much: if someone were to try talk to him, they would need to use the microphone. And speakers (or headphones) are his mouth, letting the other person hear what he wants to say. And if there's no speakers or headphones available, Jekyll just generates his replies as text on the screen and accepts text replies from the other person back (as without the microphone attached, Jekyll is basically completely deaf; without the speakers/headphones, he loses his voice). Webcam then is his eyes and so on, unless it's got tape on it or is otherwise blocked. Though imagine how pissed off Jekyll must be when everything he's able to see, is through some crunchy 480p potato quality webcam. /j

His voice has some remnants of his accent and old "human" voice, but it's now more mechanical and computer-like, basically kinda like those really old text-to-speech stuff from like the 80's or 90's. It's an oddly soothing calm voice though, not a terrifying one. (Unless Hyde appears.) He loves floppy disks and CD's etc, those are like snacks to him. Degaussing the CRT monitor also feels like tickling to him and he enjoys it. Gonna mention some depressing stuff briefly though, but this Jekyll is also forgetting what he actually looked like as a human… so sometimes when there's no one else around and the computer is in sleep mode (or open), he might try to open a program and try generate himself his face and appearance. Trying to figure out what he looked like, but unfortunately in vain; as most of the images are either totally jumbled data. Kind of like those uncanny AI-generated images. And some of the images he tries generating, no matter how close they look to his original human self, none of them feels right to him. </3

Also yes, since he can control an entire computer pretty much (only when it's on; otherwise if there was a power outage or someone turned off the power, he wouldn't be able to do much. He doesn't get hurt or go unconscious if the computer is off, he just can't do anything then), he can use the internet too or comment on whatever the computer user's doing on their computer. Jekyll mostly just sucks though, as he's often sarcastic, snarky and he's also still extremely smug. Plain rude 50 y.o. man, lol. Judging the user's actions or telling them to go outside. Though he also often just minds his own business and doesn't care what the user does on the computer. He's a cranky man after all and needs his naps often /j … and most of the time though, he's calm. He can even be really helpful and kind, if he really takes a liking to the computer user and befriends them. He's a doctor after all.... and he can also access Wikipedia anytime, lmao. He's basically like a personal PC assistant (eg. BonziBuddy, lmao), but million times worse.

Hyde then is basically just a very loud self-destructive malware/virus/glitch, that sometimes randomly takes over and tries to destroy itself/Jekyll out of sheer hatred; usually messing up the computer badly, and Jekyll then has to clean up the mess afterwards. Hyde speaks in a very terrible distorted electronic voice, or actually he pretty much just. Yells and screams a lot. The screams are distorted and chopped up, or otherwise glitched. He however appears usually only for a short time and then disappears into thin air for some time, at least until Jekyll gets stressed out again or experiences other such strong emotions.

Probably forgot a ton of details from all that, but yeah lmao, that's pretty much it..... computer Jekyll....... or you could say..... Tech-yll.......

[sleepy-the-loz-enthusiast]

So out of nothing but vague inspiration, I drew my personal headcanon designs for various Links. This is inspired by Linked Universe, but these are not the same characters and while I deeply admire Jojo's work, this is not the same thing. It's not even an au, just how I headcanon them-

So far it's only sksw and botw Link, but I might post more. Maybe?

Anyways, stuff under the cut (in case people aren't interested)

My personal design for Skyward Sword Link:

For the most obvious changes, I made him chubby and also dark skinned because my dude lives on an island in the sky. Above a cloud barrier. So he'd be getting a lot of unfiltered sunlight, and pale skin would likely result in cancer, so he's got dark skin. He's chubby because Skyloft is probably extremely cold and it'd be a biological advantage to have a thick layer of fat as insulation to protect from the cold. Plus, I like the idea of him getting some well deserved rest after thd stress of his adventure and gaining some fat.

In terms of personality, I imagine him as both an absolute sweetheart and a complete gremlin when he has energy. He's helpful and a kind soul, but it doesn't take away from the fact that he partakes in (mostly) harmless mischief. But, a lot of the time he's exhausted.

Constantly overexerting himself on his journey has permanently damaged his stamina levels. It's also given him joint pain, a fear of lightening, and nerve damage in his right arm and upper back. On bad days, he can barely get out of bed without nearly passing out and he can't move from the pain in his joints. But regardless, he is helpful when he can be, and is stubborn about sitting still and resting unless it's really bad.

For relationships, I'm definitely thinking he's in a relationship with his Zelda. But also, Groose? Idk, these are just random thoughts lmao

My design for botw/totk Link:

I made his scarring a lot worse and got rid of his arm because I think it'd make a lot more sense. I was talking about this with my sibling and they pointed out that they wished Link would keep Rauru's arm, so I'm gonna say that's what happened, but it was strong enough to carry Zelda out of the pond in totk's ending, but deteriorated over a period of time and eventually disappeared. He also lost half his face from guardians when the Calamity struck, and while the shrine of resurrection healed the flesh, it could not replace what was lost. For all of botw, he had one functional eye and ear, but post botw Zelda and Purah made a glass eye to fill the socket and something or other he can see out of it, though it's poor. He's still deaf on that side though. Also, for the most part his ribs are protected only by thick scar tissue and a bit of muscle, so he's haf a fair share of broken ribs and occasional breathing difficulties. He has very little sensation on his scarring, which has lead him to sustain a lot of injuries but be blissfully unaware until he's like "why am I dizzy...? Oh, I'm bleeding-"

On the braid going over his tunic, he has four beads to represent the four champions in their colours. I see him as a sentimental person and kind of a hoarder. Like, he gets all of the Champions' weapons and keeps them in his Hateno house, he stores an ungodly amount of food and materials in his slate, and he collects outfits.

He gives off the vibes of someone who doesn't really understand the concept of gender and love because through his journey, people only really wanted him to save Hyrule and he was useful to them. Even when his friends explained everything, he just can't be bothered, so he's aroace and his gender is *shrugs*. He's chill with being seen as a guy, even if he doesn't feel like anything in particular. Also, he's extremely good friends with all of the sages, Zelda, Purah, and Robbie. He's happy with his life, even if it hasn't been kind to him.

His hair is extremely long and he likes dressing up in his free time because it's his way of self expression and having control over his life. He can't control or change the fact that he has scars, or that he's the hero of Hyrule, or that he'll never be able to experience life like his friends. But he can control if he wants to cut his hair short or keep it long, how he styles it, and the way he dresses. Idk, just for funsies

[sadsoftserve]

Okay time to dump info because I need a place to keep things 'straight' so I remember stuff about my multiple AUs upon AUs.

So I'm just gonna write shit and hope y'all pick it up.

The Salia Kids (Second Gen au)-

Jasper and 'Vee' are half-siblings with the same donor. Vee is 13, Jasper is 16. Both were concerned with sperm donors.

They are both on 9th grade (Jasper got held back, Vee got pushed forward) and have a rivalry on par to Sabrinas and Sylvies (they have mellowed out tho) Vees mom is Sabrina, while Jasper is Dalias. Jasper was named after Dalias younger brother, who's name is also Jasper. Vees name is Victoria Lila Kalmeren-Ashling the lll, because every first female born into Sabrinas family has the same name.

Vee is a child genius, taking a keen interest in computer science and technology. She likes making things, and with her Epithet: Imagine, it makes things very easy.

Jasper has yet to get one (I haven't gotten around to it) Jasper is Academically challenged in some way, however he can be very smart under pressure. Vee is the exact opposite of this. Jasper is secretly a Banzai Blaster, and while he thinks it's a secret, everyone knows except Sabrina.

Their relationships with their mothers varies. Vee has a great relationship with both of them, while Jasper is going through a rebellious streak and completely disregarding anything Sabrina says. This pisses her off to no end.

Dalia on the other hand, loves her children very much, and will die for them. (Sabrina will too, she's just too damn stubborn to admit it.)

King siblings(Second Gen Au)-

Amber and Liam are siblings, Amber being older at 14 years of age, and Liam being 9. They have that classic sibling relationship, y'know the one.

Liam is in 4th grade, and is 70% deaf in both of his ears. He wears hearing aids that help a ton, but can shut you up by just turning them off. He does that a lot. He's a very smarmy little shit, and not afraid to speak his mind. He's great at sports, and is tall for his age (9yrs old and 5'0 tall) he does take after Parker more than Micah, he has a strong sense of justice along with that classic King bluntness.

Amber is in 9th grade, and is a total band geek. Micah taught her how to play three different instruments when she was younger, and they have stuck with her. Unfortunately she takes after her Dad a bit too much, because she is the most awkward and dorkiest girl ever. She, just like her father, is considered a loser by the popular kids.

Ambers Epithet is Tune. This is also partly why she is very talented in music. Liam is a Mundie, as of right now, he does not know if he will get an Epithet, both of his parents are mundies, so the chances are low.

Both are half-Jewish due to Micah. They celebrate both holidays because Parker said: "Every child should celebrate with their parents, no matter what." Even though she doesn't talk to her parents.

The family is very well rounded and healthy. Of course there is an argument here and there, but overall nothing too bad.

Both kids have a different reaction to Percy though... Amber admires her great aunt (I think that's what she would be here) and looks at her work as an inspiration to keep going. Liam thinks she's boring, unfun, and too monotone. He has told her this to her face.

Bonnie's kids (Second Gen Au)-

Bonnie is Aroace, however that did not stop her from having kids. Even if they're not biologically related to her. She adopted twins, both of Deepwood race, and looks at them like theyre her own flesh and blood.

I haven't yet designed them, but both are great at roller skating and frequently work at Bonnie's pawn shop with her. Their names are, Amera and Armen, both are 9 years old, and... Just extensions of Bonnie.

Bonnie is a cigarette mom, most def. But she hides it when she can. It's a bad habit. Her go-to apology is asking if they want to get a fountain from the gas station. They immediately forgive her.

(they are still being developed)

Now onto the Age up AU, and spitballing :3

Micah and Parker (Age up AU)-

The healthiest relationship you will ever see. Both are working adults, and they make time for each other. They've been together since their late sophomore year, and are still growing strong.

When they found out they were expecting. They were completely happy. Until Micah started overthinking (like he always does) and started to freak out.

Until he turned to FRED of all people who just told him "Dude, I'm not good at this either! I'm just winging it!" And they freaked out together.

Blaire (@arospecbandgeek OC's go check em out) starts giving unsolicited advice to both of them, until Parker breaks down in tears because she thinks shes doing terrible. Blair has yet to apologize for this.

Sabrina and Dalia-

Another healthy relationship! Except Dalias ever growing anxiety at the fact her wife creaks like a 60yr old woman and is somehow WORSE than when she was younger.

Sabrinas ready to die at this point, she never expected to live this long.

Both have issues. Both love each other. Both girls :3

[drabbles-mc]

What Did You Do?

Richie Jerimovich & Mikey Berzatto

For Day 11 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: bedside vigil / "I'm right here"

Warnings: 18+, drugs/overdose, hospitals, language, angst

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: I broke my whole entire heart writing this. Idk what else to say about it.

The Bear Taglist: @garbinge @narcolini @withmyteeth (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

When Richie showed up to The Beef and found the front door unlocked and walked in to see most of the lights already on, something felt off. It didn’t feel like the typical morning when someone else had gotten in before him. The door was open, the lights were on, but the restaurant was silent. Early morning prep wasn’t silent, especially not when Mikey was the one prepping.

Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, he called out, “Yo! Cousin!” He walked behind the counter and made his way towards the kitchen. “You good?”

Every second of silence that followed only caused the discomfort coming over him to intensify. He was fidgeting with his hands even though they were shoved in his pockets. Part of him wanted to call out for Mikey again, another part of him couldn’t force any more words out. He didn’t want to know what a second round of no responses would do to his increasingly erratic heartbeat.

Striding through the kitchen, Richie noticed that while everything was clean, it wasn’t set up like someone had come in early to prep. It was all still, everything packed neatly away from the night before. The light that was starting to flicker by the door to the walk-in, throwing an even more eerie vibe over it all. He shook his head as he made his way towards the office.

He reached up to knock on the door when he saw that it was ajar. There was a strip of yellow light creeping out through the small crack between the door and its frame. He stood there frozen with his hand raised for a moment, unable to shake the feeling of dread that was stopping him from knocking. Clearing his throat, he tried to shake the negative thoughts that he didn’t have any real foundation for in the moment.

Finally rapping his knuckles against the door, Richie forced out an uncomfortable laugh as he said, “You deaf or somethin’ now, Mikey? Jesus, I—”

The rest of the sentence died in Richie’s throat when he pulled the office door open. His eyes widened and he was fairly certain that his heart stopped for a solid few seconds as he looked at the scene in front of him. He saw the empty, bright orange pill bottle discarded on the floor, the lid nowhere to be seen, only for his eyes to travel up and see Mikey sitting in the office chair, completely slumped over the desk.

“Fuck,” was all Richie was able to say as he charged in and over to his friend’s side. Leaning in, Richie looked at Mikey’s face, the fact that his eyes were closed and mouth open slightly only seemed to solidify the worst case scenarios running through his head. He shook Mikey roughly by the shoulder.

“Mikey?! Mikey! C’mon,” he shook him again, “wake the fuck up!”

When he didn’t, Richie felt bile creeping up in the back of his throat. He paced for a moment as he tried to pick one of the million racing thoughts in his head to focus on. Running his hand back over his head, he finally got himself to spring into action. He was so far out of his depth, but even so he knew that trying to do something couldn’t be worse than sitting back and doing nothing.

With more difficulty than he expected, he moved Mikey from the chair to the floor, laying him plat on his back. Richie didn’t even realize the way that he was constantly muttering the word, “Fuck,” over and over again under his breath. He fumbled getting his phone out of the pocket of his track pants before dialing 911. He let the phone clatter to the floor before kneeling next to Mikey’s body.

Pressing his ear to Mikey’s chest, he felt tears prick at his eyes when he didn’t hear anything. He felt no beat, not even the slightest shift of a weak inhale or exhale. Interlocking his hands, he tried to remember where exactly he was supposed to put them to give compressions. All the fucking medical dramas his wife made him watch, he thought that he would’ve picked up a few pointers on how to do CPR.

“911, what’s your emergency?” a woman with an infuriatingly calm voice asked on the other end of the line.

Richie shook his head as he started trying to do his version of CPR. “I uh, I think my best friend might be dead.”

They went back and forth, the operator asking questions and keeping her cool in a way that both kept Richie sane and also made him want to scream at her. He even did, a couple times, but she took that in stride too. She coached him through everything that he needed to do, and somehow he managed to do it even though he was on the brink of combusting the entire time.

“Told him,” he muttered to himself more than the woman on the phone, “told him not to mess with those fuckin’ pills. Told him there were bad fuckin’ news.”

“Sir,” her voice cut through the noise in his head, “please, I need you to give me your address.”

He scoffed, a fresh wave of anger breaking through the tears. “I told you I’m at The Fuckin’ Beef,” he snapped. “How, how many places called The Beef do you know of?” It was easy to be angry, to take it out on the woman being forced to ask the questions, but the reality of it was that he was far too upset and scatterbrained to remember the street address.

“I understand, sir.” Again, she handled it with no attitude, no problem. “Emergency services will be there soon. Please stay on the line with me until they get there.”

The first responders basically had to fight Richie out of the ambulance. The only thing that finally got him to relent was telling him that the longer they stood there arguing, the longer it was going to take to get his friend to the hospital to get him the rest of the help that he needed.

“If I beat you fucks to the hospital…” Richie threatened as he stormed off to his car, hand shaking violently as he clutched his car keys.

Richie was driving down the road as quickly as traffic and stoplights would let him. He’d never used the horn so much in his entire life. As he was attempting to weave through other cars, he was also trying to get ahold of Carmy and Sugar.

He didn’t know what he expected from Carmy. The kid was states away doing god only knows what in some restaurant packed to the brim with rich, pretentious fucks. But this was about Mikey. He had to pick up if it was about Mikey. Or so he thought. Richie didn’t even bother to leave a message when he went to Carmy’s voicemail. That was a problem that he would sort out later.

He huffed as he scrolled to Natalie’s number in his phone. He hit the call button, hand shaking as he brought the phone up to his ear. It rang twice before he heard Sugar’s voicemail message in his ear. He groaned right through the beep that cued him to start leaving a message. “You gotta fucking call me back, Sugar. I’m serious. Call me!”

The rest of the way to the hospital he kept trying to call. He texted her saying to call him and that it was important. This wasn’t a conversation that he felt like having over text. It wasn’t really a conversation that he wanted to have at all, but especially not over text.

When he got to the hospital, he was practically sprinting through the hallways trying to find where he was supposed to go, or at least find someone who could tell him where he was supposed to go. For a few minutes he didn’t realize why it was so hard to see in the fucking hospital, but then he realized it was because he had too many tears in his eyes to be able to see past him.

“They brought my cousin here,” he said as he leaned over the nurses’ station counter. “You gotta let me see him.”

The woman was obviously tense, hoping that Richie’s worry and urgency wasn’t going to turn into something that was a problem for her. “When was he admitted?”

“I don’t—” He shook his head, dropping it into his hands for a moment. “Probably like five fuckin’ minutes ago!”

“Sir, I’m going to need you to—”

“And I’m gonna need you to let me in so I can make sure that he’s not fucking dead!” He pointed aggressively to the maze of walls on the other side of the main desk.

The woman that he was talking to took a deep breath, setting her shoulders back just a little as she geared up for whatever was coming next. “Sir. I need you to give me your cousin’s name.”

He deflated slightly at the question. “M-mikey.”

“Last name?”

“Berzatto.”

The woman nodded as she typed it in. Her eyes scanned the computer monitor in front of her and she let out a small sigh before she looked back up at Richie. “You can’t see him yet.”

“What?!”

She stood up out of her chair so that she was a little closer to being eye-level with Richie. There was still a decent gap between them, but she lessened it enough to prove a point. “They are working on your friend. When they’re done with the procedure and he’s stable in his room, you’ll be able to see him.”

“Pro…procedure? What fucking—”

“I can’t say anything more,” she said with a shake of her head, a bit of sympathy in her voice that hadn’t been there before. She gestured to the small waiting room. “I, or one of the other nurses here, will let you know when you can see him.”

Richie wanted to argue, wanted to continue on his warpath, but there was something about the look in the woman’s eyes that sucked all of the fight out of him. The events of the morning were all starting to catch up to him at once. So, instead of yelling and bickering, he simply nodded and tried to find a seat in the waiting room that was as far away from other people as well. He tried calling Sugar one more time, but instantly went to voicemail. So she either shut her phone off, or finally got sick of him and blocked him. Either one was equally likely.

Richie’s eyes were glued to the tile floors of the waiting room, one leg bouncing uncontrollably. He felt like his heart hadn’t slowed down at all since he’d gotten there even though he had been sitting as still as he could the entire time.

He didn’t notice that there was someone standing in front of him until they cleared their throat. Looking up, he saw the nurse from before standing there, arms hugging a clipboard to her chest. “You can see him now.”

It should’ve been a reassuring thing, to be able to see him, but for some reason it felt like Richie’s stomach dropped even more. Swallowing hard, he nodded as he rose to his feet. Running his hand down his face, he asked, his voice not sounding at all like his own, “Is he…did he…you know…”

She nodded, understanding exactly what he was asking based on his half-sentences. “He’s still unconscious, but he pulled through. I don’t know when exactly he’ll wake up, but you’re more than welcome to wait with him until he does.”

There was a tremor to the breath that he let out as he nodded. “Yea, yea. Okay. Thank—thank you.”

When the nurse dropped Richie off at the door to Mikey’s room, he found himself still hesitating to go inside. All he could think about was the sight of him slumped over the desk in the office. He knew that that wouldn’t be what he was walking into this time, but it was all that he could picture. After a few seconds of shaking his head at himself, he stepped in and saw Mikey laid out peacefully on the hospital bed. He was tucked in like he was taking a fucking nap, not recovering from an overdose on pills.

His voice was quiet and shaky as he walked over to the bed. “What the fuck, Mikey?” He shook his head, dropping down in the chair beside the bed. “What the fuck did you do?”

Richie only managed to sit in the chair for about twenty seconds before he had to get up and start pacing. He wandered around the room, touching everything that didn’t seem breakable or like it would cut off whatever life support wires and tubes they had Mikey hooked up to. He just knew that he couldn’t sit still, couldn’t just sit at Mikey’s bedside twiddling his fucking thumbs. He kept checking his phone, hoping to see either Carmy or Sugar’s name flashing across the screen. Each time he was met with an empty lock-screen.

On his umpteenth lap around the hospital room, Richie spotted the bag filled with Mikey’s belongings, everything that was on her person when they loaded him into the ambulance. Ripping the bag open, he dug around in search of Mikey’s phone, letting out a sigh of relief when he found it. Taking it out, he typed in the code to unlock it without even having to think about it.

As one final hail Mary, he dialed Sugar’s number. The relief in his chest was indescribable when he didn’t get sent directly to voicemail. After a couple rings, she picked up and answered with, “Thank god. Are you with Richie right now? Can you tell him to stop blowing up my fucking phone? I’m at work. He knows that some of us work, right?”

It was hard for Richie to speak past the lump in his throat as he said, “Hey, Sug.”

“Richie?” She sounded confused and annoyed for a moment, but then after a second of silence, her tone switched as she asked, “What’s going on?”

His legs finally gave way and he sat down. “It’s…it’s Mikey.”

“What the fuck is going on, Richie? What happened?”

“I’m at the hospital. He’s,” he coughed in an attempt to hide the emotion in his voice, “he’s okay but you really, uh, you gotta get down here.”

“Shit. Fuck. Yea, yea okay. I’ll…I’ll be there soon.”

“Alright.”

They didn’t exchange a goodbye, Sugar opting to just hang up the call. Richie kind of preferred it that way, really. All things being equal, that was the nicest exchange that the two of them had had in a long time. He tossed Mikey’s phone onto the bedside table, sighing as he let his face drop into his hands. He could feel the tears spilling over and he didn’t even have the energy to try and stop them.

He snapped his head up when he heard the rustling of sheets on the hospital bed. Fresh tears filled his eyes when he saw Mikey reaching up to rub his eyes. He blinked hard a couple times, confusion taking over his face as he looked at the IV tubes that were plugged into his arms.

“Shit,” Richie finally forced out, a smile on his face despite all the heaviness in his chest.

Mikey turned and looked at him, his face paler than usual and an expression on it that Richie couldn’t quite read. It was like Mikey was trying to be himself but he couldn’t quite swing it. No one would’ve been able to blame him for that.

“Richie?” his voice was gravelly, like the back of his throat had been scraped raw.

“Yea,” he said, not sure what else he was supposed to say in a situation like this, “it’s me. I’m, I’m right here.”

“Hey.”

Richie didn’t know what was more genuine, the smile on his face or the ache in his chest as he stared at his bed fried laid out in the hospital bed. He was glad Mikey made it, of course he was glad Mikey made it. But there was so much that needed to be done now, so many conversations to be had. And, for all the talking that the two of them did, Richie had the nagging feeling that this was one thing that was going to be tough to get Mikey to be straight about.

“What’d you do, Mikey?” he asked, quiet as he’d ever been.

“What?” Mikey tried to play it off, tried to flash his usual smile that would transition him from one topic to the next seamlessly.

“What do you mean what?” Richie shook his head. “Do you, do you know where you fuckin’ are right now?”

“I know, I know.” Mikey slowly tried to move himself so that he was sitting a little more upright. “I got, you know,” he coughed, “carried away. I’m good.”

“You’re not good, cousin. You,” the lump came back in Richie’s throat, “you were dead in the fucking office.”

“Richie—”

“No, Mikey.” He stood up out of his seat. “I’m not joking with you right now. We’re not just going to move on from this. I, I told you not to mess with those fucking pills and you—”

“You were right. That what you wanna hear?”

“No! That’s not what I wanna hear! I don’t give a fuck about being right, Mikey. You died! Is that, is that not clicking with you?!”

Mikey sighed, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back over at Richie. “What do you want from me, Richie?”

“I want you to be real about whatever the fuck has been going on with you lately. I want you to, you know, I want you to at least pretend that you’re taking this seriously.”

Deep down he knew that Richie was right, but he wasn’t ready or willing to cop to that. He wasn’t ready for everything that was going to happen in lieu of admitting that things had spiraled way too far out of control. So he did what the Berzatto’s did best—avoided the fucking problem.

“When are they lettin’ me out of here?”

Richie sighed in defeat, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Didn’t get that far. Was too busy asking if you were actually going to wake the fuck up to worry about when they were gonna let you out.” He dragged his hands down his face. “Sugar’s gonna be here soon. You gotta…get right before you see her.”

“Get right?”

“Yea. You can’t be acting like this when she comes in to see you. She’s probably been crying her fucking eyes out the whole way here and she can’t come in and see you sitting in bed acting like an asshole who doesn’t care that he just OD’d. You better fake that shit, cousin.”

“Richie—”

“I love you, you know.”

Mikey’s façade faltered for a moment. “I lo—”

“But I’m really, I’m fuckin’ pissed right now. So I’m,” he shook his head, “I’m gonna go meet Sugar in the lobby, I’m gonna go back to the fuckin’ restaurant, and I’m gonna make sure the place doesn’t burn down while you sort the rest of this shit out.”

Mikey knew when he’d lost an argument, so he just nodded. “Alright.”

Richie stepped towards the door to his room, stopping to make an amendment to what he’d said. “If anything else goes down, you fucking call me, alright? Because I’m, I’m still here for you.”

Mikey knew that Richie wasn't one to lie, for better or worse, but he still found himself asking, “Yea?”

He nodded. “Yea.”

The two of them stared at each other for another moment before Richie finally let himself out of the room. He felt like he was walking out of the room with a completely different set of weights resting on his shoulders than when he’d walked in. As he made his way down the hall, hoping to run into Sugar before she blasted her way into Mikey’s room, his mind started to peel apart everything that had happened over the course of the morning.

Before he could spiral too far, he could hear Sugar’s voice as she spoke with presumably the same woman that Richie had talked to not too long before.

“I know that he’s here, so please, let me—”

“Sugar,” Richie cut her off, his voice devoid of any of the humor and sarcasm that it usually had when he talked to her.

Turning to look at him, it was the first time that Natalie ever looked anything besides annoyed about seeing him. She didn’t look happy about it, per se, but there was definitely something akin to relief on her face.

Striding over to him, she stopped right in front of him. Her eyes were red and puffy—he’d apparently made the right prediction about her crying on the way to the hospital. “Is, is he okay? Where are you going? What happened?”

Richie motioned with his hands for her to slow down. “He’s out of it, but he’s alright.”

“What happened?” she asked, the hurt look on her face saying that she already knew the answer.

“Pills.”

She shut her eyes tight for a moment. “Fuck.” Wiping the tears off of her face, she came back around to the other question she’d originally asked him. “Where are you going?”

“Restaurant.”

She scoffed, like she couldn’t believe that he was just going to walk away. “Are you serious?”

“What, do you wanna go cover it, Sug?” He sighed. “I don’t think he needs me right now anyway. You,” he gestured towards the hall where Mikey’s room was, “go and talk some fucking sense into him.”

She didn’t have it in her to get into addressing everything that he’d just said. Instead, she asked, “You talk to Carmy?”

Richie shook his head. “Neither of you fucks picked up your phones.” He huffed, staring up at the ceiling as he said, “This is why you don’t give toddlers fucking smartphones.”

Natalie shook her head, already pulling out her phone to text Carmy. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Right.”

Richie went to step by her when she reached out, gently resting her hand on his forearm to stop him. “Richie?”

He couldn’t hide his confusion at the soft gesture. “Yea?”

She gave a short nod. “Thank you.”

He took a deep breath, nodding as he told her, “Family, right?”

She let out a shaky exhale as her hand dropped back to her side. “Family, yea.”

[therichantsim]

I was tagged by @moonwoodhollow for the "post 10 facts about you" tag game, so without further ado, if you want to know more about me, that I may or may not have already mentioned on this app read more below the cut.

I am a full-time mixed-media visual artist. Although I am well-versed in multiple mediums, I truly love oil paint. I'm an autodidact. No formal training although I would love to study at an atelier someday soon.

I'm a major procrastinator which has allowed me to create some of my best work under pressure. Yet somehow, I get anxious and stressed until the deadline. The work turns out amazing though.

I haven't met a vegetable I didn't like. Even if by the time I'm done with it it's probably not that healthy.

I love cooking. I collect cookbooks but I never follow the recipe. However, I do read them like novels. I have a natural knack for being able to taste something once and then duplicate it at home.

I'm completely deaf in my right ear. When I was three I had a bad ear infection that I didn't show symptoms of until it was too late. I thought for a long time I was born that way. I also thought everyone had a good and bad ear lol. I would ask which is your good ear before whispering a secret in the other kid's ear lol.

Since I'm partially deaf I learned sign language as a kid.

I have an irrational fear of getting stuck in my basement. I know it makes no sense and it's a very large basement and my studio is down there but still.

If I could have two superpowers I choose teleportation and telekinesis.

I'm ambidextrous but I still favor my right hand when I paint.

I can retain random facts like historical dates, scientific data, entomology, marine biology you name it if the subject matter interests me enough.

This was fun I appreciate you thinking of me for this tag. I tag @jayveesim @astoldbychae @shesthespinstersimmer @beebeesiims @invisiblequeen Also please feel free to ignore. No pressure.

[gaytotaldrama]

Since you asked about prompts, while I haven’t got to World Tour in my rewatch, the thought comes to mind of a Gwortney piece where Courtney believes Gwen’s claims that was the one who Duncan kissed her rather than blaming her for “stealing” him

thanks for the prompt! hope you enjoy

also on my ao3

"Uh, I saw Duncan and Gwen kiss!"

In just a few words, Tyler Tucker had completely ruined Gwen's life. She knew she couldn't really blame him - the guy was clearly under Alejandro's crafty spell. But if he'd just stuck around for literally two seconds longer the night before, he would know the truth of what had actually gone down.

Gwen should be so lucky.

Duncan was on the ground, out cold from Cody's sucker-punch to his jaw. Gwen couldn't care. Serves him right, she thought. I told him to fess up to Courtney himself, and now the jackass has dug his grave even deeper.

As Cody and Tyler began to take flight, Gwen realized with a horrible clarity that since Duncan was out of commission, Courtney was headed straight for her. 

"I hate you!" she was screaming, flailing like some sort of enraged marionette. The only thing preventing her from tearing Gwen's face off was Sierra's  - surprisingly expert, though definitely slack - chokehold. "How could you?! I thought we were friends!"

"We are!" Gwen exclaimed, instinctually taking a few steps back. "Courtney, you have to believe me, I didn't want - "

"Oh, sure you didn't," Sierra sneered as Courtney continued to wriggle in her grasp. "You've been all over Duncan since season one! It was only a matter of time before you tried any funny business."

Gwen stamped her foot in frustration, gritting her teeth together. "I do not like Duncan! I never have! I was with Trent in season one, remember?"

But her defenses appeared to fall upon utterly deaf ears. "You," Courtney seethed, steam practically pouring out of her nostrils like a raging bull. "Are so eliminated."

"Look, if I could just - " Gwen started in a panic, but by then, Cody had already won the tie-breaker, and the wave of relief that crashed through her nearly knocked her down to her knees.

Back on the plane, things weren't pretty. Duncan was still passed out somewhere in economy - was Cody's punch really that strong, or was Duncan simply prolonging the inevitable? In any case, Gwen felt terrible. She was being looked down upon by her fellow contestants. She hadn't gotten to say (sing?) all she'd wanted Duncan to hear during their boar challenge, hadn't let him know just how pissed she really was. Not to mention that the person who was angriest with her right now was the very person Gwen wanted to - 

Whatever. Like that was gonna happen now.

And yet, she knew she had to try.

Leaving the confessional (the lock was still busted, if this show weren't so fucking cheap, if McLean wasn't such an asshole, none of this would have even - ), Gwen steeled her resolve and made her way back to first class as slowly as possible. Cody tried to catch her eye as she entered the cabin, but she steadfastly ignored him, ignored the daggers Sierra was shooting her way, too. Courtney was curled into one of the seats, sobbing uncontrollably as Heather patted her on the back. If Heather was now appreciated more than Gwen, she didn't know what she would do.

"Courtney, please," Gwen said softly upon approach. "I can explain everything to you."

"I don't want to hear it, boyfriend stealer!" Courtney screamed.

Gwen winced, shook her head. "I'm not asking for forgiveness. I just need you to listen to me. Can we go out to the cargo hold or something?"

"What, so you can go spy and make sure Duncan hasn't been eliminated?!" At this, she fell prey to a fresh bout of tears.

"If you really want to talk to Courtney, then you can say whatever it is in front of us," Heather said, crossing her arms. "And if that juvie punk gets booted, then I say Good riddance."

"Fine!" Gwen threw up her hands, exasperated. "Fine, I'll just say this here." She hated to air more of her dirty laundry on TV, but that had always been par for the course with Total Drama. "Courtney, I didn't kiss him."

"Yes you did you little - "

"Duncan kissed me," Gwen all but yelled. Her cheeks burned shamefully at the memory. "Tyler didn't see the whole thing, but I pushed Duncan off of me almost as soon as it had begun. I didn't expect it to happen. I didn't want it. And when I rejected him, he got all grouchy and left."

"Oh, yeah, like we're gonna believe that!" Sierra shouted. "You stab Courtney in the back and then can't even own up to it?! You are soooo getting voted 'Least Popular Contestant' on my blog!"

But Cody, looking at Gwen with puppy-dog eyes, asked, "You're being serious, Gwen?"

"Yes." Gwen ran her hands through her rough hair, not even caring if she pulled out any strands. "I wouldn't lie about this. Ask Chris to show you the footage." She scowled at the floor. "And if Duncan gets kicked off tonight, I'll sleep as snug as a bug in a rug."

Silence, for a moment. Heather seemed about to say something. But then - 

"Oh my God," Courtney croaked. "She's telling the truth."

If Gwen had felt relieved when they won the Greece challenge, it was nothing compared to this. "Yes," she repeated, voice breaking. "I swear to you, Courtney, I am. I'm telling the truth."

And Courtney nodded, not meeting Gwen's gaze, her eyes rimmed with red. But it was enough for Gwen to know she believed her.

The others, however, weren't so easily convinced.

"Oh, come on, you two have always been close," said Heather. "If you're not into Duncan, then I'll marry Alejandro."

"I'm not," Gwen said emphatically. "So happy trails, Heather, you two will be perfect for one another." She turned defensively to Sierra. "And I guess you're gonna tell me you totally saw this coming and there's no way I'm being genuine, right? Because since you're an expert on this show, you must know me better than I know myself, huh?" When Sierra didn't answer, Gwen knew she had her pegged. "Ugh, you guys, I am not in love with Duncan! And, sorry, Cody, I'm not into you, either." At Cody's heartbroken expression, Sierra growled at her, but Gwen kept going. "Just because you all have complicated love lives doesn't mean I have to!

"You are so obviously into Alejandro," she continued, rounding on Heather. "But you won't admit it because you're too proud to own up to the fact that there's actually a perfect guy for Heather Hamada out there, and he's just as evil as you are!" Before Heather could splutter her way through a half-baked excuse, Gwen spun to level with Sierra. "And you - if you actually took a second to care about what Cody wants, you would know that you are always overstepping his boundaries!" She contemplated raking her nails down her face, so strong was her frustration at the people around her. "I won't deny that Duncan and I have a lot in common, and I won't deny that he has some sort of feelings for me. But I don't feel the same way. I was into Trent, I'm into Courtney, but I am not and never will be into Duncan!"

Finally, she broke off, heaving, throat drier than the stupid path to the Nile had been. She'd said her piece. She was finished, and if they still decided to send her home next time the Amazons lost, then she'd just learn to live with it.

But no one seemed angry anymore. In fact, they all seemed to be experiencing variations of different emotions, none of them hatred. Sierra's eyes were blown wider than usual, her jaw slack and her fingers twitching like she was itching to blog about something. Cody looked crestfallen, and Gwen felt bad for being harsh, but it had been three seasons and the guy still couldn't deal with the fact that she was never going to date him. Heather, meanwhile, was staring at Gwen with her hand pressed over her mouth and...giggling? It felt wrong to attribute such a cutesy word to the Queen of Mean, but there was no other way to describe the sickening sounds she was making. And Courtney...

Courtney was looking at Gwen like she'd just seen a ghost - and a real one at that, not Harold's stupid soccer ball-bedsheet combo.

"You," Courtney started and swallowed hard - Gwen tried not to track the bobbing motion of her throat. "You like me."

At last, Gwen's brain caught up with her stupid mouth, and she realized what she'd just admitted. Oh, shit...

It was at least a small comfort to know that no one would be asking her about Duncan again any time soon.

[the-elevator-twins]

>[At the prospect of fresh meat, your twin seems to perk up, and point to the door almost frantically. Is he talking about the monsters? Those two are certainly meat of some sort.... though the second he makes that recommendation, he starts shaking his head, and seems to snap out of his daze, still frantic, but much more normal.]

>[He takes in his surroundings and tries to offer you his scissors and talk to you, but when he does, the strings tighten completely, blood dripping from the threads as they cut his skin and render him completely unable to talk. But he seems insistent on staying away from you, not out of fear of you, he'd gotten over that a while ago.]

>[It's like he's scared of hurting you]

>[Though almost immediately his eyes widen and his pupils shrink, and pained, choked, muffled laughter escapes him. The threads loosen and he goes back to his pacing, just more... twitchy, and hyper aware, like an animal. The parallels to how he acted when feeding off of the blonde monsters are striking, but his behavior is almost worse. Probably because unlike you, he didn't get to eat. He's starving]

CW: implied abuse

(i) > Seeing your brother like this... it hurts you in some way. Honestly, you should feed him, but at the same time, you know he really, truly doesn't want to. With a reluctant sigh, you force yourself up, wincing slightly in pain before the door knocks, right on cue. A hook moves to the door, pulling it back as you come face to face with 'them' again.

> "Hey newbie! Wow, looks like you got caught in a trap or something. Got baited to do something reckless?" > "Would you and your brother like to go out for drinks?"

(i) > Lips parted, you were about to decline, but it's already too late as your brother lunged forward. He seems to go after the weaker one of the two, while your manic coworker takes out a lighter and a beer bottle. You react quickly, hooking "Bryce" to the ground as Neil finishes mauling "Bruce" to death.

> "Hey! You think you can get away with this you little brat!? Do I have to punish you again!? You bastard child!!" > "H-Huh. . ?"

(i) > There, Bryce begins to morph, that of your own mother. . . or, what appears to be your mother. Instant dread sets in as you loosen your grip on the other, resulting in the monster to shove you to the ground.

> "If you had only done what you were asked of!! None of this would have happened!! Our prayers to God fell on deaf ears, all because you wanted to be selfish!! Maybe being locked up without any food will do you some good!" > "M-Mom-" > "Don't call me your mother you PIG! You're nothing more than an unwanted animal! Dead meat! We warned you what happens when you stray from God's hand!" > "St-Stop it-- STOP IT PLEASE--"

(i) > Falling to your knees, you cover your ears, it hurts... hurts to listen to the ringing and harsh voices, the meat hooks on your body coil in agitation. Tears threaten your eyes before you feel a hand grip your hair, forcing you to look up. Something in "her" hand frightens you, it's left you unpleasant marks before, a razor blade. There is only one emotion you have at this moment. . . Fear.

> "I'll make you repent, one way or another boy, REPENT! REPENT RIGHT NOW! YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT!" > "I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!! PLEASE MOM- > "Sorry doesn't cut it!! I'll make you remember my warnings permanently!"

(i) > "She" goes to strike you, only making you flinch and let out a mortified scream. You don't want to be hurt. . . You did the best you could, you tried to bee the best son. . . you tried to be enough to matter to someone, to feel important. . . but even then, the blade never tears into your skin.

> "N. . . Nigel. . ."

(i) > Lifting your head, you see the front of "her" stomach bleeding. the monster collapses in front of you as you only look up at your brother, who's appearance only looks more terrifying. But. . . all you can do is cry, shuffle to your brother's arms and hug him tightly.

> "I'm. . . here, Nigel. . . Shhhhh. . ." > "Ghhhuuhhhaaa. . . I-I'm sorry. . !! I-I did m-my best. . . I did my b-beeessst. . !! Hhhuuuaahhhh. . !!"> "Shhhh. . . Shhhhh . . . I'm here. . . now. . ."

(i) > . . . Neither of you speak a word, you just embrace and weep together.

[inkrabbit]

My Dove

Hello! I've been sort of working on a story, and while I'm not going to post the prologue or the rest of the chapters, I thought I'd put out the first chapter as a sort of "teaser". However, I don't know when or if this story will ever be done. A lot of things will be changing whenever the whole story is done.

Summary: After being chased out by your old church, you find yourself welcomed into another. Though his "ghouls" aren't too fond of your lasting presence, Papa Nihil seems to be the complete opposite.

Word count: 2,335

You remembered the events leading up to your “exile”. You started out calm, with your curious questions. You just wanted to know the answers. But they shut you down, a disgusting tone in their voice. You didn't think you were being rude or offensive with your questions, but their answers had implied that's how they felt. The community that once called themselves your family had become your greatest enemy. Their joyful smiles became judging frowns, and they had stopped the whole welcoming act. Even surrounded by people, you had never felt more alone.

Getting dressed for church became harder and harder. You could feel their eyes on the back of your head, burning holes into your skull as you walked. You weren't deaf. You heard their whispers. Truthfully, you're sure they wanted you hear them. But those comments didn't stay in the hushed conversations away from you. Some of the more brazen members openly voiced their opinions to your face, regardless if you wanted to hear it or not.

But what hurt the most was that your own family had turned their backs to you. They turned a blind eye to the harassment you were starting to suffer, claiming that you shouldn't have questioned His teachings in the first place. And though you didn't have proof, a part of you knew that they indulged in the conversations that targeted you. You could only imagine what they had to say about you.

The day you had enough was when you decided to finally stand up for yourself. You don't exactly remember what they said; you just remember how it sparked a fire inside of you. There was no calm exchange. In front of everyone, right outside of church, you shot back with a fury you had locked away for so long. You called out each and every person, especially your family when they sided with the community that stabbed you in the back for so long. Even now, you could remember the look of horror on their faces, like you were wrong for defending yourself.

It's no surprise that the priest had told you that you weren't allowed back after that little outburst. Good riddance, you decided. Still, it did sting. Knowing that the people you grew up with, spent so much time with, had really felt that way about you just because you had questions. It felt like a kick in the face.

You shouldn't have been surprised when a man approached you, sporting a leather blazer and a black turtleneck. He showed concern, asking if you were okay. And those eyes of his just felt so inviting that you confessed to him. You confessed that you weren't okay. You haven't been okay, and today was the straw that broke the camel's back. And to your surprise, the man had sympathized with you. He told you that he knew what it was like to be silenced for being curious. He knew what it was like to lose family over beliefs.

He was a charming man, you could admit that, and very easy on the eyes. He had a couple scars on his face, and his right ear had a couple notches taken out of it. When you let those curious thoughts get the better of you, you asked him what happened. He gave you a sad smile and simply told you, “It was family.” His response made you frown. But still, he kept up that positive front when you asked him what you should do. All your life, you had only known the church. The people, the teachings, even the regulations.

His smile brightened when you told him that, and you were surprised when he had told you about the church he worked at. That upside down cross earring his wore should've been your first sign. He confessed it was a different religion. The Church of Satan was always willing to accept new members, he told you. Of course you had been hesitant, not only because of the drastic religious change, but the thought of being in another community with so many people, only to have the same thing happen. It felt suffocating.

Luckily, the man understood. He shared his own experience, how everything was hard for him to grasp in the beginning. You inquired about the teachings, the rules, any and all guidelines the church had. And he just gave you a warm smile and said, “Be free. That's all we want is for you to be free and safe.” Obviously, there were the common rules that he said were enforced: no harassment, no fighting, keeping an open mind, no judgment. Most of their members were ones who had been cast out of their communities and families, either for the same reason, or because there was something about them that only the Devil could've inflicted. You still felt weary of it all, but had agreed when he offered to write down the address of the church and the directions. He told you that it was tucked away in the outskirts of town, confessing that the music they played would be too noisy for the poor folk that lived here. You were surprised when he told you the name of the band: Ghost. He said it was a project started to spread the word of Satan through music. You assumed it was just the same as the music that was played to spread the word of God. Maybe it wouldn't be so different after all.

His handwriting was so neat, and the directions were easy to follow. You knew the road that was written down. Not many people went near it since it turned into a dead end with a metal gate blocking it off. The man, who had told you he went by Ares, said that the gate remained unlocked at all times, and the reason why no one ever returned from entering it was because they joined the church. He laughed when you told him the horrible stories your old church had thought up, saying how the poor, missing souls had been killed and sacrificed unjustifiably for The Dark Lord. He told you that those “poor, missing souls” had also been cast out from their church and family and found solace in people who accepted them as they were and didn't look at them with disgust for being or thinking differently.

He left you with a smile, promising that he wouldn't take offense if he never saw you again. He understood if you didn't want to join. He understood more than anyone else in your church ever would've. Maybe that's why you're standing outside of the metal gate now, the piece of paper clenched tightly in your hands. Maybe all you wanted was for people to understand and listen. Listen to what you actually had to say and not cut you off. Listen to your concerns and sympathize with you just like he had.

You reach out, grasping the metal handle and pushing down. The latch drew back and you were able to open the gate with no problem, the hinges squeaking as you pushed it open. In the distance, you could see the abbey, standing proudly atop a small hill. It seemed like a long walk, especially over the cobblestone bridge you could see just up ahead. You'd just check it out, you remind yourself. You're not certain you'll stay and join. With that thought in mind, your legs finally move forward, the gate swinging shut behind you. You pocket the note, looking this way and that as you continue down the old beaten path. The nature that surrounded the area was beautiful, the effects of autumn seeming to have not even touched anything just yet. You wondered how hard the members worked to keep everything up, or if it was just luck that the season hadn't turned those beautiful green leaves to a crisp orange.

The wind blew from behind you, almost like it was pushing you forward and towards the abbey. You stepped onto the cobblestone bridge, casting a glance to the ravine below. You never knew something like this existed, and just outside of your own town. You had always been told to stay away from the old road, and to never even think about passing through that metal gate. But now that you were here, you were entranced by its beauty. From what you could see, everything looked to be well-loved. With that thought in mind, a sense of peace washed over you. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad. Maybe the inside of the abbey and the members of the church would be just as beautiful as the outside.

The end of the bridge led you directly to the front, a beautiful fountain welcoming your arrival. As you got closer, you slowed to a stop, the large wooden double doors opening. Three men stood in the entrance, and you tried to ignore the anxiety that shot through your body. Two of them wore silver masks, but you recognized the leather blazers and black turtlenecks. In fact, you recognized the man on the left. The slicked-back hair gave him away, easing your worries just a little bit. Ares was here, at least.

Still, the man in the middle made you uneasy. Black and white make up covered his face, and the design resembled that of a skull. Those mismatched eyes bore into your soul, making you feel vulnerable, but he gives you a cheery smile. You admire the robe he's wearing; white and gold with beautiful, intricate designs that compliment his mitre.

“So, Ares was right!” he says, “We didn't think you were coming after the first few days.”

“I needed some time to think.” The three men draw closer, Ares and the other man standing at attention when they stop a few feet away. Their hands stay behind their backs, heads held high and proud. The man, who you assumed to be the Father, stands in front of them with his hands clasped in front of him. He looks you over, keeping that smile on his painted face.

“And what do you think?”

“I think the abbey is beautiful.”

He seems proud, gesturing to the men standing on either side of him. “My boys and I work hard to keep everything looking presentable. We believe it's part of a happy life.” He turns his attention back to you. “Wouldn't you agree?”

“It does help.” You look at the man to his right. He's about an inch taller than the Father, his long hair framing his mask and face, pushed over to the right side, a gold hoop earring shining beneath the sun. You wonder who he is.

The Father beckons you forward. “Come, come! Join us for mass! It'll be starting soon.” The men behind him take a step back, turning as they start for the door. You walk beside the Father, watching as the men open the door for you both. Even when thanked, they don't respond.

You fall into step with the robed man, who apparently goes by the name Papa Nihil. You thought it was funny how he didn't follow the traditional Father title, but you supposed it was part of separating themselves from the other religion. You told him the same story you had told Ares; how your questioning turned you into the black sheep of your community, starting the downward spiral that led to your outburst.

“Have you ever experienced that, Papa?” you ask him, footsteps echoing through the marble halls. A frown forms on his face.

“Unfortunately, I have,” he confesses, “My family always pushed for me to go to church. I was... okay with it, in the beginning. I didn't like waking up so early, but nobody does. And I listened to that man on the altar read from his bible. I tried so hard to just... accept every word, but I couldn't.” He casts a sad smile your way. “I started to ask questions, to anyone who would listen. And you know what happened? They all argued with me. They shut down any question I had with such venom, it made me feel horrible.

“Eventually, I just stopped talking altogether. I stopped asking questions for fear I would be met with the same response, even all throughout school. If I didn't understand something, I just gave up.” He lets out a soft chuckle. “It's a wonder I made it to college! Luckily, I met my best friend there. He's... since passed on, but he helped me get out more and question the world again.”

“I'm sorry for your loss.” That smile is back on his face, cheerful and warm.

“Thank you. Without him, I wouldn't be where I am today.”

He leads you to the church, the pews filled with siblings, some dressed in habits and robes, while others were dressed in street wear. He led you to one of the pews towards the front, allowing you to awkwardly slip into a spot between a couple sisters. They both shot you a smile, one that seemed genuine and inviting. And at the front, behind the altar, stood two more men dressed in the same attire as Ares. The one standing to the right had curly ginger hair, while the giant to the left had long, black curly hair. You wondered just exactly how tall he was, as he seemed to tower over everyone else. When Papa Nihil got to the front, Ares took his place beside the giant and closest to robed man, while the one with long hair took his place on the other side.

As Papa Nihil opened the leather-bound book, you allowed yourself to sit back and relax in the pew. For once in a very long time, you didn't feel tense listening to him recite the words out of his bible. Instead, you felt interested and drawn in to every little thing he had to say.