#every time she says ‘hey come biking come rock climbing can you at least come for a walk’

[ratwars2023]

something is just like wrong with me and i deserve to be put down i think

[thisworldisablackhole]

Phoebe Go Marmalade

🌕🌕🌕🌗🌑

FFO: INDIE FOLK, ALT POP / LISTEN

I didn't stumble upon Phoebe Go through her music, it was her partnership with an Australian based cycling apparel brand that first introduced me to her. The intersection of bikes and music is always an exciting place for me, but discovering a cyclist that makes actually good music sometimes feels like divine intervention. I know a bunch of music nerds don't want to hear me talk about lycra and carbon wheels, but I think the sense of freedom and presence of mind that burning legs on the open road provides can't be overlooked as a driving force in Phoebe's music. All I'm saying is, when Phoebe sings "I guess I took the corner too fast, but I was flying for a minute just to crash", she isn't talking about Nascar.

Marmalade is Continental rubber on the Gold Coast. Surfing the tailwind with sea salt in your hair. Carefree yet acutely aware of every speed bump and pothole in your path. It's also a reminder of the past, like a washed out polaroid that you just can't let go of. Phoebe's music might feel effortlessly cool, but this is a breakup record through and through—full of licked wounds and tough lessons. Early highlight "Something You Were Trying" exemplifies this dichotomy by sporting soft electric guitars and an irresistible shoulder-swaying rhythm as Phoebe recounts how it feels to pour your love into someone who never intended to give it back. This sets the bar for what you can expect from the album, but it is hardly the peak of the climb. Fourth track “7 Up” is another huge highlight and features some of Phoebe’s sharpest lyrics and catchiest vocal melodies over another gently rocking groove. “You said you’d come back for me somehow, but it freaks me out that you call it 'seven up' now” is just such a funny and clever way to express a microcosm of watching someone you love move over seas and grown into a stranger (apparently Australians refer to 7 Up and Sprite as lemonade? I’ll resist inciting a culture war over this for now), and I get a kick out of it every time I replay the track.

This aching breeze dichotomy doesn't always work in Phoebe's favour however, as it also has the effect of making the problems she presents to the listener feel inconsequential. The sad words are there, waiting like a hammer to be swung, but Phoebe's delivery is too gentle, the music too laid back, that the words often feel like paper airplanes veered off course by the wind. It's almost as if Phoebe is holding back from truly baring her teeth, but maybe her lack of contempt isn't the real issue. Marmalade is almost like a portrait of someone in a transitional state; one foot in the past, and one foot already well on it's way toward healing. It's Phoebe looking inward and shrugging, because hey, it is what it is. At least Marmalade won't break your heart, it's a charming little indie folk record that absolutely deserves thirty minutes of your day, I just can't help but hope the next iteration of Phoebe Go has a little more momentum.

[books-i-finished-reading]

(57)

One last stop - Casey McQuiston

13th June 2024

August Laundry does not trust people, but she trusts fried chicken.

"... Don't worry, I'll sage it."

"Remember the rules. Number one-" " Us verses everyone." "And number two-" "If they're gonna kill you, get their DNA under your fingernails."

... hoards like nuclear winter is coming,...

A warning light flashes somewhere in August's brain. Her mental field guide to making friends is a two-page pamphlet that just says: DON'T.

... social skills of a Pringles can,...

... bonded with her on a molecular level.

"Christ on a fucking bike,"

... she can't think of a single person within a thousand miles who gives a shit,...

... her soul will vacate the premises.

... feels every intelligent thought exit her skull.

Aal she can hear is the whisper of her brain cells flying out the emergency exit.

... it's another inconsequential quirk of someone she loves.

"... You've got a brighter glow than you realize."

... leather-clad disciples of darkness.

"Welcome to the building. Amenities include luxurious Worl War II-era plumbing and a vegetarian drag queen who can do your taxes."

"I've been in love with... for like, five hundred years."

... surrounded by people loving and being loved in all their messy, unpredictable ways, and she doesn't trust or understand it.

The older she's gotten, the more she prefers thinking of love as a hobby for other people, like rock climbing or knitting. Fine, enviable, even, but she doesn't feel like investing on the equipment.

Physically, August doesn't react, but spiritually, she's fully on fire.

She has this way of moving through the world like she owns every place she walks into, like she's never once been told she can't do something. She carries it well, because she probably has been told what she can't do - plenty of times - and doesn't care.

August is going to take out a full-page and in the Times to scream about it. The city needs to know.

... stumbled into this tangle of people that want her to be a part of them. She's lived for a long-ass time on less love than this. She's been alone in every way. Now she's only alone in some ways

"Hey, what's up with you? Who hurt your feelings?" ... "It's-ugh, it's so stupid." ... "Who do we need to frame for murder?"

"... bonded for life by trauma..."

"... I wanted to see the world but still have one thing that was mine."

... the Fuck You Up Olympics.

She's got this ability to move between pretty and handsome from moment to moment.

For someone so determined to never express emotion, he can be incredibly dramatic.

If she absolutely has to have feelings, she can at least do it in private.

...girl, tongue, subway, saw God.

"... being abrasive and emotionally shut off because you're afraid of wanting something?..."

She never had anyone to begin with, so she let it be unsurprising that nobody would want to have her around.

"Don't answer that, it's a trap,"

"... self-pity mode,"

"... the new, the old, the whatever, as long as it's good,"

... fight like hell and be good to those you love.

[bluefirewrites]

Juke headcanon please 🥰

Alright folks, here you go:

Luke stands guard outside of Julie’s room every night. 

She doesn’t know he does this, but ever since the stamps disappeared and the boys were free, Luke is terrified that Caleb is going to come back and do something horrible. 

Especially since Caleb has come to the studio before and knows where Julie lives, it’s Luke’s greatest fear is that Caleb would sneak up on them when they least expect it and harm Julie to get his way. 

Ghost don’t sleep, so every time Julie tucks in for the night, Luke sits outside on the porch ledge right under her window, eyes peeled for anything suspicious. 

He doesn’t even listen to music, his ears sensitive to hear the telltale sign of a ghost poofing just in case... 

He always has a can of salt with him. He knows it’s practically useless, but Carlos has promised him that he’s still looking into a more viable source of protection. 

He just... feels better having it on him. It makes him feel like there’s something he could do. He already feels so powerless...  

(The guys eventually figure out where he goes to every night, but instead of telling him to quit it outright, they end up taking turns to watch over Julie- all of them afraid for what Caleb might do.)

Julie eventually finds this out when she tries to sneak out of the house to meet up with Flynn ( she had sent a ‘911′). She climbs down the lower level roof and scares both her and Luke who had been sitting on the porch while on watch. 

She asks him what he’s doing there, and he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse. 

And she sees the can of salt and she puts two to two together. 

She doesn’t call him out on it because she likes knowing that he’s close by. 

And if Julie does ever need him all she has to do is whisper out her window and he’ll poof by her side. 

Julie studies up on ‘90s culture and history to better connect with Luke

I see a lot of instances where Julie catches the boys up on what they missed out in the past 25 years, helping them acclimate to 2020′s culture. 

But I’d like to think that Julie wants to make it more like home for them, knowing that all these changes could be so overwhelming and hard to take in. 

Especially for Luke, who she catches appearing self-conscious with how slow he’s getting it. 

She goes to the library during her free time and pores over magazines from the ‘80s and ‘90s to get a feel for the time, maybe see what TV shows Luke might have liked or the celebrities he might recognize, and maybe the language he uses. 

Julie often goes thrift shopping anyway with Flynn, but she spends more time around the electronics section and she ends up coming home with tapes and toys from the ‘90s. 

She gets her dad to dig through their stuff for one of those TV’s with the built in VCR and she plays him the movies he liked to watch and also reruns of ‘Double Dare’ and ‘Beavis and Butthead’

She gets so caught up in ‘90s mode though, that she doesn’t realize that she’s using ‘90s slang casually around him: 

“Hey Jules, how was your day?” 

“Ugh. Got in trouble today in history which was totally bogus,” 

“’Bogus’, huh?” he smirks. 

“Like Mr. Johnson went postal today for like no reason,” 

Luke is trying so hard not to smile real big hearing her say stuff like that, but then she says she’s “totally ‘buggin’” with a straight face and he just... 

He just loves hearing her talk like that and is moved that she would go through all this trouble just to make him feel more at ease. 

Quick ones: 

Luke makes cutoffs for Julie to not only wear but also design. He purposely finds old T-shirts of his that are blank or have plenty of space for her doodles. They share and Luke wears Julie’s works of art with pride. 

Julie gets ‘music history’ lessons from Luke, where he schools her in bands that he likes. Only fitting since he’s the one to have originally introduced her to rock. 

Julie gets them a dual headphone adapter so they could listen together. They often lay down on the ground right next to each other, just vibing with the music. 

Luke doesn’t like it when other people mess with his hair. Julie’s the only who can run her fingers through his hair. He learns that he loves getting his hair played with. 

She hums or sings songs quietly when she does play with his hair. He closes his eyes and it’s the closest thing to sleep he could get as a ghost. 

Julie finds random hair ties in her hoodie pockets that she definitely doesn’t remember putting in there. But what she does remember is complaining to Luke about never having any hair ties on hand when she goes to dance class. 

Luke has terrible handwriting, so before letting the rest of the band run a song, Julie would rewrite the lyrics and copies for the boys. She may have left some cute heart drawings on Luke’s copy, and Luke secretly loves it. 

Julie runs her essays by Luke, who is insanely good in English. He proofreads it and leaves good notes. 

Luke likes to bike, and Julie lets him use the one in the garage at night in the park (so no one can see a bike pedaling by itself). She goes with him sometimes and she gets to ride on the handlebars. 

They both cry during movies. They make sure to have a box of tissues for them to share. 

Although Luke’s Spanish is terrible, Julie loves hearing him try to say things. 

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Wings [Pt.3]

Daryl Dixon x Reader [Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6]

The next morning you woke up as soon as the sun peeked through the small windows of the room and rolled over into Daryl, nudging him awake as well. He grumbled something as he stretched himself. “G’mornin’ sunshine,” he smiled and sat up against the headboard, waking up a bit before getting out and getting dressed. You stayed in bed for a bit longer, staring at him changing in to his usual outfit of patched up pants, button down shirt and his winged vest. He looked back over his shoulder when he could feel your stare burn into his back. “Oh, please don’t mind me. I’m just enjoying the good morning show.” “I’ll head upstairs so ya can get dressed.” He walked over to pick up your stack of clothes that lay folded on his desk and hand it to you. “Or do ya wanna return the favor?” He smirked at you, wiggling his eyebrows getting a laugh out of you.

You were happy he was this comfortable around you and honestly you would have never guessed it would happen this fast. “yeah fine. Sit your ass down and behave.” You commanded as you rolled your sleepy and absolutely not sexy self out of bed. Your bedhead messily covering half of your face and in desperate need of brushing. You swiped it back for now and grabbed your socks and jeans, casually putting them on. On top of the stack of clothes was your bra and all of a sudden you were very aware of the fact that you just agreed to flashing your breasts in front of Daryl. But then again, he had been comfortable enough to show you the scars that covered his back and you knew how big of a deal that was for him. “Hey, if ya want me to walk away ya just gotta ask.” Daryl tried to comfort you but instead of answering you just used his words as a confidence booster and quickly pulled your top off and skillfully put on your bra and clasped it behind your back. You walked over to daryl’s basket of clean, folded clothes and picked out a shirt for you to wear until you had to get ready to leave for real. Feeling good in his big button down shirt you grabbed his hand and took him upstairs only to immediately run into Carol in the kitchen. “Hey girlie, didn’t hear ya-“ she gave you a funny look while Daryl also made his way into the kitchen. She looked at him with the funny look still on her face. “That’s yours. I know it is because I put that in your room yesterday.” She turned back to you then. “You’ve been here all night, haven’t you?” She spoke knowingly with a smile on her face. “Well,” she said as she went back to making breakfast, grabbing extras to cook for three now. “I’m happy for you two.”

“Hey, is it okay if I run to the clothes storage real quick? promise I’ll be back before you’re done.” Carol nodded at you, smiling, allowing you to leave. You said a quick thanks, kissed Daryl on his cheek on your way and went on your way. Not that you got much further than the front porch, where you ran into Judith. “Hey momma Green! I was looking for you!” She happily cheered as she spotted you and immediately ran over. “Hey lil’ Jude, come in! Auntie Carol is making breakfast. If you ask nicely you can maybe have some too.” She hopped up the porch stairs and walked past you, grabbing your hand and ordering you to come inside with her. “Thanks! I gotcha something cool.” She exclaimed and climbed on a dinner table chair and put her bag on the table, fumbling with the clasps for a bit before opening it and pulling out your supposed gift.What she pulled out wasn’t what you expected at all. Your green jacket that you lost wasn’t lost at all. “You forgot it at our place when you left, and I know how much you love Daryl’s wings so I made you these!” She held up your jacket with the back turned for all of you to see. Just like Daryl’s one blue wing, your were beautifully painted on in purple an pink colors with the same white stars on he ends of the feathers. Carol watched from the kitchen, a sweet smile on her face. She adored Judith and how much she loved her family. Daryl was staring wide eyed at the jacket, wondering what this kid heard her say to get her to make this. “Looks like a won’t have to get a new one now, huh.” Daryl commented, glancing your way and seeing the look of disbelieve on your face. You were at a loss for words so only muttered a soft thanks as you took our jacket int your hands like it was the most fragile item in your possession. You pulled it close to your chest and smiled into it again. “Thank you so much. I love it, it’s amazing.” Judith smiled back up at you. “Now you and uncle Daryl really match together.” It was insane how she always somehow knew about everything that was going on within these walls.

As you just now learned, it turns out you talked about Daryl a lot whenever you were babysitting, and Daryl’s too good for this world heart had him telling Judith about the girl he liked as well when she asked about it after Carol married Ezekiel. By now everyone was siting at the dinner table and eating breakfast together and prepping some more bread to take on your run later. Normally you would have left already, but the events of this morning changed your plans and luckily not in a bad way. After everyone was done eating and had helped cleaning up, you and Daryl got ready to leave for real this time. After having put all your gear on the bike, you went to grab our most important piece. Your newly made signature jacket. Putting it on and making your way back to the bike, you noticed a pair of eyes following your every step. It was Aaron who had come to send you off. He had the widest smile on his face that you’d ever seen on him. “Look at you, rocking those new colors!” He called over as he made his way over to the gate. “You two finally talked? guessing from your newly acquired wings he assumed at least something had to be going on. “Turns out Judith is one sneaky kid and basically stole my jacket because she apparently likes me and Daryl together as much as he two of us do.” “Come on, we really gotta leave. We’re late already.” Daryl called from the gate. You waved Aaron goodbye and ran over to go on your run.

[impala1967dwinchester]

Dean Winchester: Embrace (Request)

*Not my gif*

Paring: Dean X Reader 

Pov: Reader 

Warnings: comfort from dean, hunt gone wrong, reader crying, LOTS OF HUGS, mentions of Sam (Briefly) 

Summary: The reader come back from a hunt gone very wrong, and all she want is to be in Dean’s arms tonight. Once she makes it to the bunker, she falls into dean’s arms, not being able to keep it together anymore. 

Word Count: 2k 

Masterlist 

Tag list: @akshi8278​, @deanswaywardgirl​

This was supposed to be an easy hunt. One and done type of thing, but that ended shortly after I got to the motel. Dean and Sam already out on a hunt, I decide that it wouldn’t hurt anyone if I went out on my own.  

Shooting Dean, a quick message. “Dean, there’s a hunt about an hour away from the bunker. It involves kids, so I’m packed up and leaving in 5. Love Ya.” I sent the message stuffing my phone in my back pocket.  

Buzzing I pulled it out seeing a message from Dean “Ugh, I wish you weren’t going by yourself, but I understand it involves kids. Be safe and text me when you get to the motel. Love Ya sweetheart.” Well, that had gone by much easier than previously thought.  

So, throwing my bag in the passenger seat of on the many cars I drove off to the motel. According to the article children were going missing in the local town. The thought of so many parents being scared and missing their children was eating at me, so I thought I’d at least try to help.  

Quickly I learned that kids were disappearing, most disappeared near an old shut down mental asylum. Something about kids and wanting to search places that clearly had “DO NOT ENTER” signs on them.  

It was still early in the afternoon so I made my way over to the parents of the latest missing child. They wore worried expression on their faces as they say the quick flip of the F.B.I badge.  

In short, they had said that their son had gone out with a few of his friends. Riding bikes and being a destructive teenage boy. For a few moments the image of Dean being that way crossed my mind, internal smiling at the thought.

I had figured that it was probably a ghost based on the rather odd story the parents retold me. Saying that their son had told them about how the light were flickering and, all the sudden it was really cold in the asylum. It’s the middle of summer, so cold spots are definitely more prominent.  

When I made it back to the motel, I made quick work of trying to figure out where the old mental asylum was, grabbing way to cups of coffee, and junk food from the vending machines I worked until at least twelve in the morning.  

I hadn’t ever realized how much the Sam and Dean’s help was. It was nice to have a tech nerd at your disposal, and a heater next to you in bed every night. Once I had fallen asleep at the dirty small kitchen table in the motel, I thought it best to move to the bed and text Dean.  

“Hey baby, I made to the motel a while ago. You know me got caught up in trying to help. Fell asleep trying to research going to sleep now. Good night baby, Love Ya.” I sent before plugging it in to its charger and falling into a deep sleep.  

When I awake the next morning, I looked over to my phone seeing a new message from Dean. “Sleep well sweetheart. We will be home today, keep me in the loop. Can’t wait to see you.” He messaged with a winky face at the end.  

Rolling my eyes, I got out of the crappy, not memory foam bed. Hearing the slightly creaks and cracks of my bones. Thinking that it would probably useless if i grabbed a shower before going on a hunt, so I opted to grab one of deans stolen flannels, my pants, and my boots.  

Once I was officially ready for the day, I went right back into researching. Finally, hours later I had found an old document that just so happened to have to the address of the mental asylum.  

It was a picture of a few nurses, a doctor standing proud in the back, and a gaggle of children in front of the nurses. Around the doctors' neck hung a stethoscope. It read at the bottom of the picture  

‘Doctor Ethan Zingler, Nurse Betty, Nurse Lewis, Nurse Andrea, with the many mentally insane children. Doctor Zingler holding his prized possession his stethoscope.’ “Fuck yes” I screamed. Damn that was dumb luck.  

Quickly grabbing the car keys, I slammed the motel door, making my way over to the car. Again, I shot him another text, “Alright, found the address for this place. Should be an easy fix. Be home soon, Love Ya.” Sending it before starting to pull out of the parking lot.  

When I made it to the mental asylum, the gates lock was broken making it much easier for me. Making my way into the mental asylum it was quiet, giving me an uneasy feeling. A scream grabbing my attention, but when I made it their nothing, nothing was there.  

As I walked around more, trying to find these lost kids. Turning around at one point, I saw a figure of a decomposed older women. Her white nurses outfit torn at her heart, all the sudden instead of staring at me she was full speed running.  

Cutting into one room I lost her, standing there for a minute. Re thinking everything that I looked up, and the parents had told me. It clicked it was ghosts, they were ghouls. This means that everything I had on me wasn’t going to work.  

Hearing the should of many children screaming at once, I ran towards it. I saw the Doctor his stethoscope wrapped around the necks of one of the children, I ran in trying to get a shot in, but before I could I had they two other nurses hold me down, one trying to stick me with a needle. The other had her very decade hand around my neck.  

I watched every single missing child be killed in front of my eyes, once the doctor was done, he turned looking at the two nurses. They let me go and he slow staked over to me, his hand covering my mouth. I reached down in a quick and swift motion grabbing a long machete knife I had attached to the loops of my pants. In two swift movements I sliced the heads of the nurses off. Looking over at the once respected doctor I chopped his head, it landing on the ground.  

Swiping the blade over my thigh, I slipped it back into its case. I walked out of the asylum flipping it the finger. Getting into the car, it was starting to hit me, that I had watched at least 3 kids murdered in front of me. I was here to fix this, to bring them home safely.  

I drove, no music, no running thoughts in my mind. I just drove, when I finally made it back to the motel, I grabbed a quick shower, trying to wipe away the images of them dying, trying not to cry. “Y/n you’re a big girl. You’re a hunter, fuck you’re with a Winchester get it together.”  I said to myself.  

“Hey baby, how is everything? I haven't heard anything in a while. Sam says that I should stop worrying, but you’re my girl. Text me back please.” Dean messaged me.  

Climbing out of the bathroom, I grabbed my phone, my arms barely keeping the towel wrapped around my chest. “Everything is fine. I’m okay honey. I will be home tops 2 hours, Love Ya.” I sent him back.  

If I broke down now, here, I’d never be able to leave. I need to get dress, I need to get home, I need Dean, now. Wrapping another stolen Dean flannel around me, I could just barely smell his leather, and whiskey cologne on his shirt, I pulled up my sweats.  

Grabbing the rest of my stuff, and throw it into the passenger seat. I walked down to the front desk; I gave to women her keys back. Starting the engine to the car this time I turned the radio on, finding a station that reminded me of Dean. “80′s rock coming your way. Now playing ‘AC/DC Back in black” Taking a deep inhale I back out and drove down the street, radio blasting and windows down.  

“Can’t wait to see you sweetheart!” Dean sent a message as I inched closer and closer to the bunker. Finally, I slowed down and drove down the darkly lite drive way that led to the bunkers garage. As I inched closer, I started to break down, I didn’t want to be a disappointment. I didn’t want Dean, or Sam to see me as a failure.  

I could feel the prickle of tears wanting to escape from my eyes, but shook my head and pushed them back in. As I parked the car, I only grabbed my phone, not really in the mood to look or see anything hunting wise.  

Slowly I made my way to the garage door. Stopping as my hand made contact with the cold handle. I reached for a deep breathe, and opened the door. Conversation still going on, I walked past the library hearing both Sam and Dean call my name.

But the idea of facing them, after everything was too much. I heard the scratch of the wooden chair against the floor. I walked into Deans and I shared room, plopping onto the memory foam bed.  

I heard the bedroom door, slowly open “Y/n?” Dean’s voice bounced off the cinder block room. “Y/n? Are you okay?” He said shutting our bedroom door. “Y/n? Are you hurt? If you’re hurt, I can fix you up, but... but you’ve got to tell me.” He said coming closer to me.  

My breathing becoming harder for me to control. Deans hand landing on my hips first. “Y/n please look at me. You’re scaring me.” I couldn’t take it anymore, I moved quickly making Dean lose a bit of balance before his hand wrapped around my mid-section.  

A breath that I didn’t realize I was holding came out, “It’s okay, you can just cry. I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Dean said rubbing circles into my back. “You’ve got me Y/n. You just tell me what happened okay, let me known that us Winchester deal making didn’t rub off on you.” He said a little chuckle at the end.  

“De... Dean I’m so stupid. I let 5 kids die because I di... didn’t know what I was hunting. I watched the gho..uls kill them. De... Dean Please just hold me. Please don’t thi.. think of me any different.” I said, a few hiccups interrupting me from finishing my sentences.  

I felt Dean take a deep inhale, before speaking, “Damn, Y/n why.. You know what you’re so resilient, so brave, you’re no where to being stupid. Me and Sam got the covered for you. It’s okay, I’m so fucking sorry that I wasn’t with you, I’m sorry, but I’m tell you’  

He said pulling me away from his shoulder. Lightly touching my chin, bring my attention to him. Our eye making contact. ‘Y/n I’m telling you that you couldn’t have done anything more then you did. You’re an amazing hunter, an amazing person, you’re prefect Y/n. I don’t to ever hear you say that you’re stupid, or that you think me or Sam will think of you differently because we just won’t. I love you baby” Dean said.  

I reached up to kiss lips, a small, sparked filled kissed. It was as if that kiss was an okay for me. The okay that Dean was being true with me. “Dean, can.. can we just lay together please? I don’t want to let you go just yet” I asked.  

He gave me short smile, and shook his head ‘yes’. “I love you, sweetheart. Get some rest.” He said kissing my temple, “Love Ya too De.”  I said before the tiredness of crying and the beat of Dean’s heart lulled me into a deep and warm sleep.

Completed 02/27/2021 

[pleasejustfuckinghugme]

Forever

episode two pt. one (word count: 1,195)

jacobs!oc x fezco

warnings: language, sexual references, probably some typos

Nancy never got a car like her brother. Now, you may think that’s really fucked up because, yeah, they’re twins, but Nancy didn’t want a car. She wanted a bike. On the twins’ sixteenth birthday, Nate pulled up to the school in his brand new, fucking ginormous silver truck, and trailing behind him was Nancy on a fucking bike. I asked her, “Why the hell did Nate get a car and not you?” And she just shrugged her shoulders, locking her shiny yellow bicycle to the rack, “Bikes are just more fun.”

“I need a new fucking bike,” Nancy mumbled to herself as she rolled her ride up to the side of the school. After she secured the rusting yellow bike to the rack, she let out a puff of air and brushed out her white pleated tennis skirt. Throwing her backpack over her shoulder, she made her way into the school.

“Nancy!” a voice called, causing her to whip around. “Thank God you’re alive!” Maddy teased, pulling the girl against her. 

Nancy giggled as the two continued walking. “Yeah, sorry I had to leave early the other night.”

Maddy’s eyes grew as she looked at her friend, “Bitch, you disappeared for the rest of the weekend! Remind me to never let you drink again.”

Nancy scoffed, rolling her eyes before she noticed BB and Cassie up ahead of them. As her and Maddy caught up to them, Rue passed the four, holding hands with another girl. She was tall, almost as pale as paper, and her blonde hair faded into a light pink. Nancy gave them a small wave, but neither noticed as they sauntered by.

“Oh shit! That’s the girl that tried to commit suicide at Mckay’s,” BB exclaimed.

“Wait, what?” Cassie and Maddy, asked simultaneously as Nancy gave the girl a shocked look. “Oh yeah, I forgot you guys both was fuckin,” BB slurred, causing Maddy to stop walking abruptly. 

She threw her head back and groaned in exasperation, “Why does everybody think we fucked?”

“Come on,” Nancy giggled, pulling her friend along as the four continued to walk down the hall.

“Yeah, at least you didn’t disappear,” Cassie chimed in, giving a pointed look to Nancy.

“Shut up,” Nancy scoffed. “I was sick!”

BB and Cassie giggled, “No one heard from you for a whole day,” Cassie teased.

“Look, maybe alcohol just isn’t for me,” Nancy defended herself.

“Yeah, alcohol is not good for me,” Maddy agreed.

“So you did fuck him,” BB grinned, turning to the girl.

“Honestly, I think I blacked out,” Maddy replied.

“For real,” the other three girls looked at her with concern.

Cassie said her name softly as Nancy pulled her into a quick hug.

“Hello,” Kat interrupted, joining the girls.

“Oh look, it’s our new sexpert,” BB announced, and Maddy and Cassie went to hug her as the four girls cheered, giggling.

Nancy found herself quite lonely during the first few days of school. Now that Kat had lost her virginity, Nancy felt as if there was a pressure on her now. And as Maddy complained about Nate being a dick, Cassie gushed about Mckay, and Kat caught the eye of the boy across the cafeteria, Nancy began to wonder if maybe something was wrong with her. 

But boys were not the only thing that plagued her mind. There was Rue too. As she watched Rue giggle with the new girl across the cafeteria, it looked as if the two had been friends for years. Nancy felt stupid for longing for Rue, but God, she missed her so much. Their late night bike rides where they would blast old rock music, screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs. Their sleepovers where they would vent about all the shit going on in their lives and then raid the pantry for snacks to eat as they binged Love Island. Nancy had tried many times to reach out to Rue, and every time she either heard nothing back or Rue was already with Jules. She understood though, she never reached out to Rue while she was in rehab, and Rue had no obligation to hang out with her. Still, there was a pain in Nancy’s chest when she thought about it.

So when Rue popped up behind her as she grabbed her bike, she was surprised to say the least.

“Hey,” the curly-haired girl chirped, grabbing her shoulder. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

A smile began to form on Nancy’s face, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Rue chuckled, shifting her feet. “You said we needed to hang out the other day before the party.” It was a statement, but the words seemed to come out like a question.

Nancy nodded, “Of course.”

“I was thinking we could hang tonight? Catch up?”

“Sure! Yeah,” Nancy gushed. Excitement bubbled in her chest. Before this, she was sure that Rue didn’t want to hang out with her, really. That she was just being polite the other night before the party.

“Alright,” Rue smirked. She glanced behind Nancy, looking at someone. “Well, I’ll text you where, okay?” she called, hopping on her bike.

“Sounds good,” Nancy smiled.

Nancy began to lose hope at 9:30, but when it was almost 11:00, she was sure that Rue had just forgotten about her. Sighing, she picked herself off of the couch, where she had been watching reruns of The Bachelor, and shuffled upstairs to her room. Nate had never come home, so the house was quiet as Nancy changed into her pajamas and got ready for bed. Just as she was climbing into bed, she heard her phone buzz on her nightstand. Her brows furrowed when there was just an address in the message, then her phone pinged again.

Rue B: meet me here. i’ve got some stuff up then we can go get some burgers or something. 

Nancy sent a quick thumbs up, before climbing out of bed and throwing on some sneakers and a raincoat. She hurried down the stairs and opened up the door.

“Hey, where you headed?” her dad called after her.

“I’m just going out to eat with a friend,” she replied, pausing to look at her dad at the top of the steps.

“Alright, be careful in that rain, kid.”

She nodded, smiling stiffly, and turned to leave.

The rain that fell around her felt almost refreshing, and excitement built in her chest as she drew closer to her destination. It had been a fucking long time since her and Rue had hung out.

When Nancy pulled up to an apartment complex, she was confused. But she had checked the address, and she was in the right spot. Not wanting to stand out in the rain, she propped up her bike and found the door. Ringing the bell, she heard yelling before the door swung open.

She was about to ask for Rue, but when she saw who stood in front of her, her voice caught in her throat and her stomach did somersaults.

The ginger’s eyes furrowed as he looked at the girl who was in front of him. 

“The hell are you doin’ here?”

[doctor-rainbowfoxey]

Renegades Chapter 4 Part 4 The Wheel Part 2

Link to Previous Part HERE

“Uncle Sparky!! Golly, I am just stoked to see you,” the auburn-haired musician put forth, not sounding super excited despite his words stating otherwise. The feral mutant looked at his cellmate with mild concern, having observed his change in demeanor.

Some part of the colorful musician had hoped it had been another man on the other side, a man who had once been like a father to him but alas he was not surprised to be disappointed. Starks assistance was not unwelcome but he it didn't come guilt free. He would have to put up with the pressure and the sales pitch now.

Tony turned to the rookie cop “open it,” he ordered. The young man squeaked and fumbled to comply. As soon as the door opened Stark strode in and to Cyclop's surprise, the Avenger immediately hugged the other Scott. After a minute held him at a distance looked him up and down, inspecting him for injuries and not liking what he saw. He glared at Scott’s feral cellmate accusingly. Logan was quick to step back, hands up in the universal gesture of innocence. Gently the hippie extracted himself from the older inventor’s embrace.

“Christ Scotty, what did they do to you?”

“It wasn't him, Sparky,” objected the paisley hippie ardently. He continued to assure the elder hero, “You know that. It was the long arm of the law that you love promoting.”

“I know. I saw,” ground out the gold suited Avenger wearily with a grimace still looking over warily at Logan.

“Let's go, let's talk about this somewhere without prying eyes,” prompted the avenger attempting to gain command of the situation.

“Right, about that Uncle Sparky,” chimed in the colorful hippie. “I need you to wire funds to pay for my friend here’s release as well,” stated the auburn-haired man matter of factly.

“Him? You barely know the man,” the Avenger exclaimed incredulously. “He could be some kind of ax murdering hooligan!!”

The musician turned to his feral companion, with mock seriousness he beseeched the other, “are you an ax murdering hooligan, Logan?”

“Nooo….?” the shorter mutant slowly mildly offended by the whole affair.

“See? It's fine Sparky,” assured the younger man with a shrug. “I got a good feeling about this guy…”

“But…..fine,” started the richly attired man only to quickly relent when it became clear the other was not going to give in on the matter. Upon seeing his young charge again preoccupied with the pain in his head the older man fumbled to retrieve something from his pocket.

“Here take these. I saw your other pair.. broke,” said Tony gruffly.

The force beamed burdened mutant carefully to the glasses from the other man putting them on with a sigh.

With fond paternalism, the elder Avenger comforted, “That’s much better huh son?”

“Yeah...yeah, it is” demurred the scarlet-eyed mutant, as his headache eased but with a tinge of resentment at the burden.

Stark grumbled, “here’s your jacket and your shoes. Put them on quickly. I feel claustrophobic and I’ve only been in here for 5 minutes. I’d like to leave this hell hole already.”

“Sounds like you should look into criminal justice reform,” commented the hippie as he slipped on his corduroy jacket and sat to put on his shoes.

Cyclops, not wanting to be separated from his counterpart in this universe, dared to jump into the other Scott’s pocket.

Stark stammered uncomfortably, “We can talk about that later Scotty.”

From inside the pocket, Cyclops could hear them talking but he dared not peek out of the pocket lest he risks discovery.

“Here’s his personal effects,” announced one of the police officers to Stark, in a much more respectful tone than he had used before.

“Gaia!” Sighed the passionate man and Cyclops could hear the sound of latches being carefully opened.

“Oh thank god. She’s alright,” breathed the lanky fellow, clearly relieved.

“You still play that old thing?”Asked Tony, mildly surprised.

“Not as much on stage as I used to, but she does perfectly well on the road and among friends,” explained the musician. Cyclops heard the sound of a door closing, he felt the warmth of the sun through the pocket and could smell flowers on the breeze that tickled his whiskers when he dared to sneak a look at the world outside.

“You can’t keep doing this Scotty,” Stark reprimanded sternly.

“Doing what exactly?” replied the younger man with feigned obliviousness.

“These protests and rabble rousing. The sex, drugs, the rock and roll. Take your place back on the team Scotty,” insisted Stark. Cyclops with his mouse senses could tell he was close to the man from the smell of his expensive cologne.

“I’m an adult and not an Avenger anymore. I left that life, objected Scott, with icy controlled coolness as he stepped back from the other man.

“You think you can stop it? That you’re some kind of martyr or something? This has been going on for 10000 years. I’ve tried my best to slow it from the inside but I can’t stop the wheel. This is bigger than us,” argued the greying inventor. Inside his mind, a peaceful man could hear a great wheel turning.

The lanky ex-avenger sighed, “you’re right this is far bigger than us. The peace movement is far more than me alone. If it bothers you that I find I have more luck reaching people with my music than my fists then I’m afraid you’ll just have to let that be Mr. Stark,” stated the peaceful musician calmly and firmly with a tone that broached no query of debate. Cyclops could tell his counterpart was annoyed by over trod on circular arguments that had been rehashed between the two. The pressure of a legacy he could and never fulfill that ground his soul beneath it’s will like a millstone pulverized grain.

The elder hero fretted, “what happened to you on that shield mission overseas?! Ever since then you’ve changed and you won’t talk to any of us about it! If you can’t tell us than please talk to Steve. He’s been worried sick and you owe him that much!” Confided Stark clearly upset and desperate for answers, but in response Cyke could feel his counterpart stiffen.

“Thank you Mr. Stark, for greasing the wheels politically. I’ll wire funds to repay you.” promised the flamboyant musician, his voice sounding hollow and rehearsed robotically as one gets when constantly fending questions you do not wish to answer. Questions that take your mind to places you never wished to return.

“Scott please, at least call and tell him you are alright! Pleaded the seasoned Avenger.

“Fine Sparky I will call him. Will you give it a rest now, you’re being a drag,” remarked the paisley fellow. With effort the hippie willed memories that threatened to break free from their leashes with gnashing teeth and dripping saliva like the feel of hands stained red with blood that could never be washed clean.

“Fine but this is going to be the death of you, mark my words...also is that a rodent in your pocket,” spluttered Stark incredulously.

Suddenly the seasoned mutant hero now in the body of a mouse, felt gentle hands lifting him from his safe space in the pocket. His borrowed body’s instincts urged him to bite but he refused them. Biting alternate Scotts was off the table unless they deserved it.

“Hey little guy. You’re not something I would expect to be in my pocket,” murmured Cyclop’s alternate counterpart amazement. It was a strange sensation looking into the face of someone who looked so much like yourself yet was not you at all.

With a disgusted scowl, Stark commanded, “put that rat down. It’s probably diseased or something,” he elaborated

“It’s a dormouse, Sparky, don’t blow a fuse. I’ll just let him down here in the grass,” assured the lanky man.

Cyke felt himself being lowered to sit on soft moss amongst grasses. Abruptly he realized he should put on a good show of doing mouse things because he was supposed to be a mouse now. Apparently. He ran off deeper into the grass.

“See. It ran away. It’s fine,” replied Scott with confidence. By the time Cyclops had snuck back to where he could watch without being spotted, anything Stark had to say in response had been cut off by the sound of a motorcycle approaching..

“Hey kid, I’m heading down to Cali. You wanna ride?” offered the feral mutant who looked like the picture of the man in black in his long black coat, dark motorcycle. The other Scott Summers in many ways is the polar opposite of this man but they seem to be on the same wavelength as is pulled by the same gravity.

The colorful musician looked invigorated in response to the offer as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Where before he had felt a beast being herded and caged suddenly he saw him a way out, an escape. With calculated impulsivity would seize such an opportunity as he always had before.

“Do I!! You’re a sight for sore eyes ol’man,” declared the groovy man as he approached Logan, smiling broadly as the sun illuminated highlights amongst his auburn hair. In less than he had his guitar strapped to his back and was climbing on behind the other man while Stark stood gobsmacked.

“Scott Summers get off that bike right now!! What the hell do you think you’re doing!!” barked the stately Avenger beside himself.

“Sorry, Sparky gotta keep truckin’ later!” answered the man in paisley.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Stark,” called the man in black politely, if too late.

“Summers!! You get back here this instant! Rogers you’re kid is just as stubborn and troublesome as you! The stress of dealing with both of you is going to give me an ulcer. Damn it!! “yelled Stark to the dust and exhaust fumes that were all that remained of the two vagabonds. All the while Cyclops swore he could hear a voice singing mournfully.

I look at the world

And I notice it's turning

While my guitar gently weeps

With every mistake

We must surely be learning

Still my guitar gently weeps

The whole world around Scott seemed to reverberate around the voice, fading in and out, tilting sickeningly until…

****************

Scott opened his eyes. The voice was still singing. Carefully Scott quietly as possible turned his head to see who was singing.

‘I don't know how you were diverted

You were perverted too

I don't know how you were inverted

No one alerted you’

It was the suborn haired man, with the silver bangs and green eyes who reminded Scott so painfully of a perverse caricature of his kind and gentle friend. Held lovingly in his hands was a pair of hexagonal ruby quartz glasses exactly like the ones the Scott from the vision wore.

I look from the wings

At the play you are staging

While my guitar gently weeps

'Cause I'm sitting here

Doing nothing but aging

Still my guitar gently weeps

While Axel strokes the glasses lovingly a single tear fell slowly from the man’s eye as if it the glasses had managed to awaken something long locked away.

“Is that..?” Scott started to ask on impulse, unable to silence his curiosity.

“You!” Hissed Axel with cold fury as if he had intruded in something private and forbidden.

“Back into the depths you go, you poor innocent soul,” the radioactive green-eyed man. Suddenly the darkness was rising thick as London’s fog, and the last thing he saw before all was consumed was the man’s cruel grin dissolving into blank emptiness.

[fanficimagery]

Stronger. Faster. Better.

Summary: Taken from one bad situation and shoved into the next, you’re force fed vampire blood. Max casts you off to his sons when you don’t take direction well, and well? It was probably the best decision he’d ever made.

Words: 4K Warnings: Violence. Mentions of abuse. Not sure this is trigger worthy, but there is mention of someone attempting to force someone else into a relationship they don’t want.

Being forced down a cool, damp cave was not what you expected to happen after refusing to feed. Swift death? Yes. Being thrust upon someone else? Not so much.

One hand is wrapped in the hair at the base of your neck, pulling harshly so your face is angled upward in an uncomfortable position. There's no use in attempting to flee because Max is too powerful and too fast for you to get anywhere safely. But the darkness soon brightens, just a bit, and the ground levels out. You're forced to your knees and then shoved forward, and you barely manage to catch yourself before face planting. The Rock music playing suddenly cuts out and you glance up through the curtain of your hair to see four individuals walking closer.

"I am done," Max snarls. "I attempted to give her a better life and she squanders it! Turn her or kill her. I don't care anymore. She's no longer my problem."

"So what? She's ours?" One blonde answers, straight platinum blonde hair spiked on top and styled into a short mullet at the back, blue eyes glaring. You stare at him, a shiver running up and down your spine at the anger simmering there. "We don't need another Star, Max."

"You will do as I say, David. Kill her or make her feed. Either way I don't want to see her disrespectful face ever again."

Before anything else can be said, Max leaves. You push yourself up and then move around so you're sitting on your butt, and then gather your hair to get it out of your face. No one says anything for a long minute, and then from one moment to the next two other blondes crack smiles in your direction.

"Whatever you did to piss off Max, you have our utmost respect, chica. He's a total asshole." You frown, brow furrowing. "I'm Paul, by the way. Tall, tanned, and broody over there is Dwayne."

"Marko," the third blonde introduces himself, his curls styled into a short mullet as well. "And I'm sure you remember that that's David right there."

Each boy has a similar style, but have made it their own, and each have very different auras. Paul seems to be the fun one, followed by Marko. However, Marko has an underlying sense of danger that Paul doesn't seem to possess. Dwayne is a bit hard to get a read on, but you get the sense he is a decent guy, and David- David leaves you on edge. Everything about him screams danger and you can't help but feel out of your comfort zone when he stares at you.

Between one blink and the next, David appears before you and has a hand wrapped around your throat. You barely have time to gasp before he's lifting you, eyes just as glacial as earlier. "Name?" He drawls.

"Y/N," you manage to utter.

Paul whoops and Marko hides a smile behind his thumb as he chews on the nail. Dwayne manages to shift behind David, flanking him, and is as quiet as ever as you weakly struggle in David's hold.

"Well, Y/N, welcome home. Where did Max pick you up?"

"Yeah," Paul muses. "You don't look like a runaway. That's how Max usually finds his children."

You struggle to breathe, the tips of your toes barely scraping the ground. "I don't k-know." David sneers and drops you at his feet. Rubbing at your throat, you look up but keep your gaze averted from any of the boys. "All I know is that I went from one shitty situation to the next. Max thought he was saving me, and had he went about it differently, then maybe I'd have thought the same."

Dwayne frowns. "What did he do?"

"What do you think? He beat me, he starved me, he kept me in seclusion and force fed me his blood, then expected me to make a kill so I could become his child bride. Fuck that. Fuck him."

"Oohh," Paul sniggers. "This one's feisty."

David continues to watch you, gaze subtly softening. "Sleep." He gestures towards a bed nearly hidden in an alcove, surrounded by sheer curtains. "The sun will be up soon. We'll give you some time to settle in and decide to feed on your own time, but if you refuse you're out. I won't keep a halfling around longer than necessary."

"We only have one other halfling," Dwayne then says, "but Laddie is just a boy. He'll be completing the change before he's twenty."

You glance around the cave then, spotting a boy who's hidden by the sheer curtain hanging around the bed David had offered you. He flicks his hair out of his eyes, hesitantly waving.

"If we wake up and find out you've left the cave or laid a hand on Laddie, you're done. I won't tolerate abuse in the pack. Do you understand?"

Gulping, you nod. "Y-Yeah."

"Good." David looks up and glances around at the others. "Boys, let's go grab a bite to eat before the sun comes up."

As the pack leaves in a whirlwind of laughter and jingling chains, you finally push yourself up from the ground. Looking around you realize you're in a lobby of some sorts, most likely a building that collapsed long ago that the vampires have now made their own.

"It was a hotel once," you hear and look at Laddie whose opened the curtain around the bed. "David has a speech about the history of this place." He laughs softly. "Paul and Marko always make fun of him when he says it to every new person."

"If it was a hotel, does that mean I'll get my own room then?" You ask, hopeful.

"Only after you've completed the change. You can share with me until then."

"Thanks." The hotel isn't the most desirable place to stay, but already it's a hell of a lot better than before. At least here there's no Max. "You, uh, wouldn't happen to have anything to snack on, would you?"

"Yeah. Hold on." Laddie gets up and walks over to a crate, rummaging through it. He comes back with a half eaten bag of jerky and bottled water. "Here you go."

"Thank you."

Instead of eating the whole thing like you want to, you split the meager snack with the boy. After it's all gone, you kick off your shoes and curl up on one side of the bed.

"Sleeping in jeans is so uncomfortable," you mumble. Laddie giggles. "I need scissors to cut them into shorts."

"The guys have a pile of clothes you can pick through," he says. "But you can do that tomorrow. Take them off if they bother you so much."

Cracking open one eye and seeing Laddie snuggling down, you do just as he said. You're used to sleeping in a shirt and underwear, but ever since Max plucked you from the streets you'd been sleeping in pants to keep yourself covered up. Laddie, however, is just a kid and won't leer like the other guys are most likely to do. So once you're jeans-free and comfortable, you close your eyes and will yourself to sleep, hoping the guys won't give you too much grief for sleeping half naked.

Waking up the following evening, you're not surprised that the guys are nowhere to be found. Laddie is already awake and moving around, and when he sees you sitting up he beams.

"Got a box of clothes for you. The guys left it, I guess."

"Awesome." Wrapping the sheet around your waist, you stand up and stumble forward. Immediately digging through the box's contents, you bypass the skirts and sigh in relief when you find a pair of jean shorts, a tank top, and a red and black plaid long sleeve. There's even a brush and several hair ties at the very bottom. "Hey, Laddie, can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah."

"Who's Star?" Laddie freezes and you suddenly feel guilty for asking. "Nevermind. That seems like a touchy subject." Quickly rushing behind a broken wardrobe to give yourself a semblance of privacy, you quickly change outfits. After the tank top and shorts are pulled on, you wrap the sleeves of the plaid shirt around your waist and knot it. When you reappear and head over to your shoes, Laddies voice startles you.

"Star was picked to be one of us. At first she was all for it, but when it came time to feed for the first time she refused."

"Who chose her?"

"David. She was supposed to be a meal, but I got attached. It'd been so long since I had a mom and she was nice. Dwayne suggested she turn and she agreed. For me. But she couldn't finish becoming a vampire when it came down to it."

"Can I ask what happened? Or is that.."

"She threw herself off the cliffs." You whirl around, surprised to see the guys all standing there. It's Dwayne who spoke, expression stoic. "Max's blood in her veins made sure she survived the fall, but she wouldn't heal unless she fed. She refused and was put out of her misery."

"Oh. I-" You glance at Laddie, frowning. "I'm sorry." He grins faintly, shrugging as if it's no big deal now. "So, uh, what's the plan for tonight?"

"Boardwalk, as usual," David drawls. "Just stay away from the video store. It's Max's."

"Noted."

Paul and Marko whoop in delight, Laddie as well, and you hesitantly follow after them. You make the trek upwards through the cave entrance Max had dragged you down, and then inhale deeply once out in the fresh air. It's nothing but salt and fish, but it just feels so good to be out in the open.

Walking up the rickety stairs, your hands fly out to steady Laddie when he trips. He giggles and you laugh briefly as well, and then you're walking up to four motorbikes. Paul and Marko are already eager to go, bouncing in their seats. Dwayne helps Laddie get situated behind him and you turn to David who quirks an eyebrow at you.

"You're with me."

David straddles his bike and you use his shoulders to steady yourself as you climb on behind him. Then wrapping your arms around his waist, you nod when he glances over his shoulder at you. The bike roars to life beneath you and you squeeze David tighter as he zooms off into the night. The others make sure to never pass him up, but every now and then you look back to them hollering and laughing as everyone gains speed.

You smile when Laddie catches your gaze as Dwayne speeds up to be next to David, and then laugh when the boy throws his head back and howls. The boys expertly dodge trees and jump small hills, and you let yourself be giddy for once since Max had taken you.

You've only seen the boardwalk a handful of times, so it's a sight for sore eyes. The flashing lights, the harsh whistles and bells coming from the rides and games, and the rock music blaring from some beach concert off in the distance.

David leads the pack up onto the boardwalk, everyone either glaring at their audacity for driving their bikes on there or jumping out of the way. He and the guys back up their bikes before parking, and you hop off when you see Laddie do so first.

As everyone gathers around, you hook your thumbs into the front pockets of your shorts. "So what's the plan? I'm assuming you boys don't wanna babysit, so.."

"Stay on the boardwalk, but stay away from Max's video store," David says. "And take this. Keep Laddie entertained and fed. Same goes for you."

You accept the handful of crumpled bills, smiling tightly. Then shoving it all in your pocket, you hold a hand out towards the young boy. "Let's go, Lads. The guys are harshing our coolness factor anyway."

Paul laughs. "You wish you were cool, girl."

Dwayne grins as Laddie immediately latches onto your hand and you nod at the dark haired vampire before taking your leave. Out of the two of you, Laddie is the most excited and doesn't hesitate in taking the lead. You get just enough tickets to have a few go-arounds on the carousel since that seems to be the only ride Laddie really wants to get on, and then head on over to buy the greasiest burgers you can find, fries, and a large lemonade to share.

There's a rather dilapidated picnic table next to a burning barrel out on the beach, and you lead Laddie there to eat your dinner. And when you're sure the table is not going to collapse, you gesture for Laddie to join you and hand him his half of the food.

"You seem happy," Laddie mentions right before taking a bite of his food. "Happier than last night, at least."

Swallowing the bite of burger in your mouth, you grin. "I kind of am. Don't get me wrong, the guys are terrifying, but they're a lot more approachable than Max. Max- he had this overwhelming sense of presence. It also helps that the guys don't have me chained to the cave, so there's that."

"Did he do that to you? Chain you to keep you with him?"

"Nah, kid, he didn't. But he did threaten me and someone as old as Max is not someone you cross."

Laddie's nose wrinkles, but instead of asking yet another question he continues to eat his food. You decide to leave him be for now, eating your own meal for the night and enjoy the noise of crashing waves and the roaring fire in the barrel just a few feet away. Laddie seems to be a bottomless pit and you hand over your share of fries after keeping a couple for yourself.

Once all the food is gone and you make sure to throw away all your trash, you shout for Laddie, who'd wandered off towards the water, to come back. But before he can make it to your side, there's a too tight grip around your bicep and you hiss in pain as you're suddenly being yanked in the opposite direction of the boardwalk.

"Y/N? Y/N!" Laddie yells.

Just getting a glimpse of the side profile of the man dragging you down the beach has your heart hammering in fear. "Thought you could runaway, didn't you?" He grits out.

No. No, no, no.

You attempt to yank free of your ex's hold, digging your feet into the sand. It's no use. You're then dragged all the way through the nearby parking lot, screaming and shouting, but no one pays you any mind. All the while, Laddie chases after you.

You're shoved into an alley, hands and knees scraping against the dirty ground. Your ex situates himself between you and Laddie, and when you turn over to meet Laddie's gaze behind your ex, you see his wide and fearful eyes. "Go find the boys, Laddie. Run!"

Still on the ground, you slowly start inching backwards. "Do you know the amount of money I spent on resources trying to find your ungrateful ass?" Your ex (Jeff) snarls. "I've spent months looking for you!"

"You should have taken the hint and moved on," you manage to tell him. "I didn't ask for you to look for me."

"But I didn't give you permission to leave." Jeff kicks a crumpled can at you and you dodge it, scurrying backwards even more. After years with Jeff and living with his abuse, you were finally free. Braver, stronger, and faster. But seeing him after months, it's like all that has faded away and you're still that cowering woman who was too afraid to leave him. "Get up. We're going home."

The revving of bike engines resonate throughout the too calm night and something in your chest loosens. Breathe. You are not weak anymore. You warily climb to your feet, making sure to keep some distance between you and him. Breathe. You are not a victim anymore. Jutting your chin out and squaring your shoulders, you say, "No. I'm already home."

"Y/N." You jerk at the sound of your name, your name which oddly sounds like it's being carried on the wind. David. "Remember what you are, Y/N. He is no match for you."

Remember what I am? I'm a halfling. A halfling who still needs to- needs to feed. A hand clamps around your wrist and then you're being dragged again. Only this time fear isn't clouding your mind and you have enough clarity to know you can fight back. So planting your feet, you grab your ex's arm with your other hand and yank back. Surprisingly, he stumbles back and looks at you in surprise.

"What the hell is your problem?" He demands. But instead of cowering, you stand a little taller and meet his gaze head on. Jeff's own confidence briefly wavers.

Without second guessing yourself, you swing at his face. But instead of closing your hand into a fist, you tighten your fingers and claw his face. Jeff shouts and stumbles backwards after letting you go, gingerly lifting a hand to his wounds. You, however, you stare at your bloodied fingertips. Your heart beats faster, your vision tunnels, and your hearing zones in on the rhythmic thumping of Jeff's heart and the blood rushing through his veins.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?"

Your breathing gets heavier and then you let your gaze drag up to meet Jeff's, but something must have changed because his heart rate picks up and his eyes widen. A guttural growl vibrates through your throat and between one blink and the next your teeth are slicing through the flesh of his neck. His pathetic attempts to get you off of him is truly laughable, but an undeniable hunger takes over you.

You clamp one hand over his mouth to stifle his screams, but he yanks on your hair to get you off. Growling in displeasure, you snap his neck and continue drinking him dry. Then when you're done, you drop his body only to whirl around, growling at the sudden applause. David, Dwayne, Paul, and Marko have showed up and parked their bikes at the mouth of the alley. Over Dwayne's shoulder, Laddie peeks out.

David swings one of his legs over his bike and saunters towards you, still slowly applauding. "That was one hell of a first kill." He looks you up and down, gaze settling on your transformed face. "Vampirism suits you."

You growl one last time before straightening your back, slowly feeling your face shift back to normal. "He had it coming."

"You knew him?"

You kick at your ex's body. "Unfortunately. He was the bad situation Max plucked me from."

David tuts. "This could be a problem. Anyone know he was here?"

You shrug. "I doubt he told anyone. His parents didn't approve of us. But if his body is found here and I'm spotted walking around, his parents will be quick to point their fingers."

"Okay then." David twirls around, chains jingling. "Paul. Marko, park your bikes out of sight. Find his car and get rid of it, then get rid of the body. Fly him a state over."

"Aye, aye." Paul and Marko mock salute David, and then congratulate you before getting to work.

Following after David, you faintly smile at Laddie since his gaze has yet to leave you. "Sorry you had to see that, kid. He caught me off guard."

"Was he a bad guy?"

"The worst."

"Then good." Laddie jerks his head to the side to get his bangs out of his eyes. "I'm glad he's gone and you're officially pack."

"Yeah? Me too, Lads."

Standing on the ledge of the broken fountain, you do your best to concentrate in order to hover mid-air. The boys made flying look so easy and you were a bit jealous you hadn't been able to pick up on it. Laddie watches from the couch, eager to watch you fail. Again.

Closing your eyes, you step off the ledge and hold your breath when you don't immediately fall. But the moment your eyes fly open and you see for yourself that you're hovering mid-air, you fall. Laddie cackles and you groan as you pick yourself up.

"Laugh it up," you muse, swatting the dirt from your jeans. "Just wait until it's your turn. You'll learn it's not as easy as it looks."

The hooting and hollering coming from the cave entrance diverts your attention, and you plop down next to Laddie on the couch. He's still giggling, so you give him a fond head rub before looking towards the other boys.

"Feeding time! Come and get it, boy and girl." Marko cheers.

"Hey Laddie," Paul says, "how many falls was it tonight?"

"Twenty three," he giggles.

"Hey!" You bark. "Flying's hard. Okay? I'm still new."

Dwayne scoffs. "I had flying down my third-"

"Your third day," you groan. "Yeah, I know. Fuck off, Dwayne." Laddie laughs louder and you readily catch a container of Chinese food that Paul had chucked at you. "So are we hitting the boardwalk after this or what?"

"Eat. We'll play later," David says.

You and Laddie go on to share three boxes of food- noodles and beef teriyaki. The energy in the cave seems to amp up the later it gets, and when it's time to leave Paul and Marko throw clothing at you.

"Dress up time, chica." Paul smirks. "You're luring tonight."

"Ugh. Gross." You pick through the clothes, immediately tossing aside the skirts and dresses. "Who are we pulling tonight? Boys are easy. They fall for the innocent act way too easily," you muse. "The girls are a bit trickier, but easy enough when I introduce myself as a sibling or cousin of yours so I'm not seen as competition."

"You're the girl who's out having fun and gets separated from your girls. Dress pretty," David says.

"Leather pants it is."

Then dressed in a fishnet shirt atop your bra, an old leather jacket of David's, and a pair of black leather pants, you climb on the back of David's bike before the pack races towards the boardwalk.

You can't help but giggle at the heated glares you garner from the female population, you having heard their mutterings about you being a quick fling of the boys. Unfortunately for them, you would be sticking around for quite some time.

After the bikes are parked, you hop off and ruffle Laddie's hair before grabbing up his hand and trying to skip off. You only get a couple of steps before David stalls you.

"Do you remember the plan?"

Turning around, you roll your eyes at his expectant stare. But before you can retort with a smartass comment, the way he looks with the boardwalk lights haloing his head gives you pause. Being that attractive is really unfair.

"Y/N." Dwayne coughs.

You snap out of your thoughts, mentally groaning at the boys' all knowing smiles. "I really hate you guys sometimes."

"It's not our fault you're so transparent."

"Yes," you deadpan, "and I'm sure the mind link David has with all of us that all of you refuse to tell me how to feel it for myself has nothing to do with it."

Marko snickers. "Everyone always wants to bang the leader."

Paul explodes with laughter as your nose wrinkles in distaste. But you're not one to deny what they clearly know, so you settle for sighing and changing the subject. "Just for that I'm picking someone terrible for you. Let's go, Laddie. We've got rides to ride and people to hunt."

"I'm sure if you ask nicely, David'll let you ride his-"

"Kid ears, Paul!" You shout, cutting him off as your cheeks flame. Laddie giggles, no doubt understanding exactly what ride Paul was referring to. When Paul says no more and the guys are all smirking, you chance a look at David only to see him send you a wink. You sigh. "I'm never gonna hear the end of this."

[general-kenobi357]

Someday Soon-Chapter 8

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!OC

Summary: Tensions rise, as the gold seems closer then ever the Pogues feel themselves being pushed away from one another.

Notes: Back at it again with a terrible summary. Though I suppose at this point in the fic you probably know if you want to keep reading.

Word Count: 2.8k

🔅🔆🔅

I could remember sitting outside with my friends under the bright lights that now covered John B’s yard and I could vaguely remember falling asleep on JJ’s shoulder. Exhausted from the long day it was easy to fall asleep. What I could not remember was how exactly I had gotten from the backyard into a bed. But my questions were answered as the strong arms that were wrapped around my waist tightened slightly as JJ woke up. As I became more awake I recalled last night when he had ushered me inside, half asleep when the temperature had dipped a little too low to be comfortable.

“Good morning.” He mumbled, as I turned to face him. His eyes were still closed and half of his face was pressed into the pillow he laid on.

But was it a good morning? The events of the previous night replayed in my head on a loop. Aside from the fact that JJ had completely broken down, I couldn’t help but wonder where our relationship stood. It was clear that we were no longer just friends but what were we? JJ had never been one for relationships and the only real relationship I had had lasted all of one month. What would happen next? Where did we go from here?

The many questions running through my mind were pushed away when JJ lifted his head to look at me before leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek. The action brought a smile to my face and I decided to stop worrying even if it was only for a little while. For now I would just enjoy the time we spent together. After we got the gold we could talk about us, on a beach far away from here.

I decided that it was time to start the day. We had a couple things that needed to get done before we returned to the Crain house.

“Where are you going?” JJ groaned as I left the bed.

“I'm getting ready, we can’t stay in bed all day.” I responded with a smile.

“We could if you got back in bed.”

The look on JJ’s face almost got me back in bed but I knew that I shouldn’t.

“No, come on. Don’t you want to get rich?”

“4 mil’ rich?”

“400 mil’ rich.” I corrected him. “But in order to do that we have to get out of bed.”

“Fine.” JJ finally huffed. I smiled back at him before making my way out of the Château to go see if Pope needed help with whatever he was setting up in the backyard.

🔅🔆🔅

It was clear that Pope didn’t really need my help but he still asked me to stay close incase Kie needed help getting down. While Pope started setting up the controls, I watched JJ finally leave the Château and make his way over to the hot tub to watch Pope work from afar.

“So what’s up with you and JJ?” Kie asked snapping me out of my thoughts.

“What?” I asked, unsure of how to answer.

“Well you seemed inseparable last night.”

“Oh yeah, well I’m just trying to be there for him.” I responded, I was trying to figure out whether or not to tell her about the dinner JJ had set up. I figured I might as well, after all she might help me figure out what it meant. “Plus he kind of set up a date for us last night. At least I think it was a date, I mean he told me he liked me and we kissed. Honestly I don’t know where we stand.”

“Really?” Kie asked, a shocked expression covered her features as she paused to think about what I had told her. “Just think about if what you really want is realistic. Whatever happens between you two could seriously mess with the rest of us.”

I didn’t have a chance to respond as Pope called Kie over to help him test out his contraption. I watched her walk away as my brows furrowed in confusion. A few days ago she had let me cry on her shoulder and told me that JJ would come around and we would be fine. Yet now she was telling me to think about what I really wanted cause it might mess with our friend group. I tried to push the frustration I felt for Kie down as I made my way over to Pope to ask how it was going.

“How's it feeling?” Pope asked Kie who was being lifted into the air.

“Feels good.” She responded.

“Taking you down.”

“John B pullin' a Houdini.” JJ spoke up from his spot across the yard.

“Yeah, where is he?” I asked, none of us had seen him and I was beginning to get concerned.

“I got my scholarship interview tomorrow.” Pope reminded us all. “We gotta get this done!”

“Speak of the devil. Hey!” JJ shouted as John B seemingly appeared out of thin air. “Dude, I set up the entire winch to pull up the gold and everything.”

“No, he did not. I did that.” Pope tried to defend, but John B wasn’t listening to any of it as he stormed past us all.

“Okay, that's it?” JJ asked.

“What's that all about?” I added, I was now more concerned after seeing John B than when he was MIA.

“I was gonna ask you the same question.” Pope responded, as we all made our way into the Château.

When we got inside John B was tearing apart the living room it seemed like he was looking for something.

“Are you alright? What... what's up?” I asked as John B continued to tear through the house.

“What are you looking for?” Kie asked, my concerns rising as we watched him.

“Bro, what's going on?” JJ added as John B lifted up the bed and took the gun out of its hiding spot.

“John B, what do you need the gun for?” Pope demanded. “Talk to us!”

“John B, chill!” Kie tried to calm him while he pushed past us all to get back outside.

“What are you doing? What, are you JJ now?” Pope criticized.

“John B, what the hell are you doing?” I asked as we watched him climb onto JJ dirt bike and start it up.

“John B, what the hell?” Kie asked trying to get closer to where he was.

“Ward knows about the gold.” John B finally explained. “He killed my dad.”

And with that he drove off Kie and Pope chased after him for a minute before making their way back to where JJ and I stood. We all looked completely lost as I wondered if John B was really planning on killing Ward to get his revenge.

🔅🔆🔅

Later that night after the sun went down we were camped out on the Cameron’s dock, looking for John B. I wasn’t sure if I hoped to see John B or not, I was worried about him and I wanted to know he was okay but if he really did show up to hurt Ward I wasn’t sure what would happen.

“What now? We just go up to the front door and ask, <Hey, have you seen John B?>” JJ asked us. It was clear that none of us really knew what the point of coming here was.

“Look, he lives at Tannyhill now. It's plausible.” Kie said, she had been the one to suggest that we come here.

“We can try to play dumb.” I added.

“Play dumb? It's pretty late” JJ reminded us.

“Look, I've never seen John B like that. We should honestly be going to the cops.” Kie said.

“The cop... Yeah, and say what, Kie?” JJ started ranting. “We're worried about our friend because he's on a rampage because Ward Cameron killed Big John? Like, they're not gonna believe us!”

“Hey, I see Ward.” Pope cut off JJ.

“Let me see.” Kie said as Pope passed here the pair of binoculars he had brought.

“Doesn't look dead to me. Let's go home.”

“Wait. What?” Kie asked.

“Uh... Okay. Obviously, Mr. Cameron is fine, and even if John B was here, he isn't now, okay?” Pope began to explain. “Plus, I have the biggest, most important moment of my life in six hours.”

“Yeah, well, our friend is in trouble.” Kie tried to argue

“I'm in trouble.” Pope reasoned. “Guys, I haven't been home in three days. My dad's probably put all my shit on the street by now.”

“Okay, so that's it?” Kie asked, every time she added to her argument I began to side with Pope more, John B was not the only thing we all had to worry about. “In a time of need, you're just gonna bail? You're just gonna walk away?”

“He’s not walking away.” I spoke up moving closer to the arguing pair. “We can’t all constantly worry about John B when there’s other shit going on and we don’t even know where he is.”

“Okay, yo, guys, can we not do this right now?” JJ tried to break up the fighting.

“Hey, I have a scholarship interview in the morning.” Pope reminded us. “I can't…”

“Okay, well, what about John B?” Kie asked.

“What about him?” I countered.

“Why is it always about John B?” Pope questioned.

“It's not always about John B.” Kie stated. “It would be any of you in this situation.”

“Oh, bullshit!” Pope said.

“This is about friendship.” Kie spoke but I couldn’t help but think if that were true then she would be thinking about Pope’s problems as well as John B’s.

“Bring it down.” JJ spoke up still trying to calm us all down.

“Look, this is about Pogues for life.” Kie tried to tell us, I rolled my eyes as she said it. It was like she wasn’t listening to her own words.

“What about forensic pathology, huh?” Pope asked desperately.

“Forensic pathology?” Kie responded as if she didn’t care at all.

“It's my life. Everything I've worked for.” Pope reminded her.

“That's your priority?” Kie asked as if Pope’s future didn’t matter.

“Stop the moral high ground bullshit!” I finally snapped, moving closer into Kie’s space.

“Iz, come on. No.” JJ tried to stop me by placing a hand on my arm.

“Excuse me? No, no. She has no room to talk.” I asked, brushing his hand away. “Where were you when Big John went missing? You weren't there.”

“You weren't there for John B. You weren't there for any of us.” Pope added to my argument. “Remember your Kook year?”

“Yeah, you forgot about us.” I reminded her. “Now you feel guilty.”

“Give me a break.” She muttered trying to move past us.

“That’s what you need?” I asked, blocking her way. “You need a break? Cause none of us get a break according to you.”

“Move!” Kie yelled back.

I felt like I was ready to swing at her when JJ finally stepped between us, stopping the argument.

“Hey! Yo, yo, yo, cut it out, all right?” JJ started to chastise us. “If I'm the one mediating, we've hit rock bottom. Kie, bow, now. Pope, Iz, stern.”

As I followed Pope to the back of the boat I could hear him muttering about his interview. I felt like I had made things worse when I just wanted to help him. I also wondered how much of my anger with Kie was about our priorities and how much of my anger was due to what she had said about JJ and I.

“Pope, I'll drop you off.” JJ broke the silence before starting up the engine and pulling away from the dock.

🔅🔆🔅

The next morning everyone was gathered on dock at the Château save for Pope who I assumed was doing his interview right now. I was sure it was going well, he had been preparing for it all summer, but I couldn’t help but worry.

“You sure he got everything?” Kie asked from across the dock. We were yet to speak to each other since last night and I wondered how long it would take for us to make up.

“Every bar.” John B confirmed his story again. “The whole enchilada. Look, it's not like I expected a happy ending or some shit.”

“John B…” Kie trailed off as we watched him rip apart his cast that wrapped around his hand and arm.

“What, Kie? It's a hairline fracture. Who cares?” He asked as if it was nothing.

“You should care. Your arm's gonna be messed up for life.”

“It's fine. See?” John B showed her, moving his hand as if that proved the bones had healed.

Their discussion was cut off by Pope who was barreling down the dock towards us all.

“Oh, God. I ran all the way here.” He explained, after he reached us all, trying to catch his breath.

“You all right?” I asked, concerned by his behavior.

“How was the interview, Pope?” JJ wondered.

“Don't ask.” He waved off our questions, still trying to catch his breath. “Look, I'm sorry, dude. About everything. But... but I don't have a lot of time, and... and I have information that is tactically relevant.”

We all looked at each other waiting for Pope to continue.

“So, before I had my interview, my dad said he was going down to the private airstrip to cut palms for Cameron's big plane. Because it was too heavy, it needed a longer landing strip to take off. So, I'm there sitting in my interview, thinking to myself, <Hm. Why would Cameron need a longer airstrip to take off? What could be so heavy to weigh it down?>” He paused as we all thought about the question.

“Gold.” John B realized.

“Exactly.” Pope confirmed.

“Guys, this is our chance, but if it leaves tonight, and we have to go. Guys, we can't give up now.” John B said, looking around to make sure we were all in.

“What's the plan, big man?” JJ asked with a smile.

“We're gonna steal that shit back.” John B reasoned before we all took off towards the van.

“Let's do this!” Pope shouted excitedly, I felt hopeful that we were finally going to get the treasure and complete the hunt we had been on.

🔅🔆🔅

The sun streamed into the van as we flew down the road in hopes that we would be able to beat Cameron's plane from taking off. After the excited shouting had quieted down my worries began to set in about what we were actually going to do to stop Ward.

“So what exactly is our plan here?” I asked the others as I watched JJ load bullets into his gun.

“We go in there, guns a-blazin', make Ward Cameron beg for mercy, abscond with as much gold as possible and vámonos, get the hell out of there.” JJ explained.

“Down the Intracoastal.” Pope added.

“Wait for weather.” Kie continued.

“Exit to Cuba.” Pope finished.

“Cuba?” JJ asked, setting the gun down. “No, man, Xcalak, Jewel of the Yucatan. Lobsters so thick, mangoes, and no word for money.”

With a smile on my face I rolled my eyes at him mentioning Yucatan again, ever since he had gotten a good grade on a project about the Mexican state he brought it up whenever possible.

“Let's do this shit.” John B spoke up as we pulled up next to the airstrip.

🔅🔆🔅

We were standing outside of the fenced airstrip trying to come up with a plan up until John B had spotted Sarah being dragged onto the plane and had promptly created his own plan.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Pope asked as John B started up the van.

“Don't be a hero, dude! John B!” JJ tried to stop him as the wheels of the van squealed and he drove right through the fence.

“What is he doing?” I muttered while the others kept screaming for him to come back.

🔅🔆🔅

As we stood near the airstrip waiting for John B to come back, I wondered what he was planning to do now that he had stopped Ward from taking off. As they began to argue we heard sirens approaching from behind us. We all turned around, my anxiety was bubbling up as I hoped that the others knew what we should be doing.

“Guys, I can't get arrested. I'm on probation.” JJ reminded us.

“Look, we're no good if we're all in jail.” Kie reasoned as we all prepared to take off.

“Come on.” Pope spoke up, guiding us somewhere we could hide out while we waited for John B.

🔅🔆🔅

[booksandseventeen]

School Project with Tsuki

☾ ☽Tsuki X Reader! ☾ ☽

The teacher stood with her hands on her hips, looking every student in the eye, “This next project is worth 50% of your grade.”

The classroom groaned. 

“You will be partnered up and during these last 6 weeks of school, you must go to 6 places neither of you have ever been before. Search the wonders of Miyagi and write a paragraph for each place you visit.” The teacher claps her hands together, “Consider this a great experience you can enjoy outside of school, as long as the places you visit was informational, I dont care where you go.” 

Tsuki sighed, his fingers twitching to put on his headphones and drone out the rest of this dreadful project. Partnered project were his least favorite part about school, but at least he could just tag along while Tadashi did the work, he could practically feel his friend vibrating with excitement behind him.

“Oh and before I forget, your partner will be the person that sits to the left of you~!” 

Tsuki blinked before glancing to the left. 

Empty. Of course his partner wasn’t even at school today. He raked his brain to try and think who sat to the left of him but he kept drawing a blank.

“Tsukishima, your partner isn’t here today but I trust that you can bring her the needed materials and tell her about the project, hm?” The teacher walked to his desk and set down a binder filled with information.

He pushed his glasses up, “Tch, what a burden.”

☾ ☽

“tell your partner I said hi!” Tadashi waved goodbye as they went their own ways, Tadashi to go home and Tsuki to visit your house, a torn out piece of paper with your address written on it. The paper fluttered in the wind and he sighed before continuing on.

The gate creaked when he opened it, weeds sprouted from the ground and a gnome broken in half welcomed him as he stepped on the overgrown stepping stones that led to your home. 

He knocked on the door and took a wary step back, unsure of who would answer the door. 

“COME IN!” The scream made him jump and he looked behind him almost as if the yell was meant for someone else.

He narrowed his eyes, felt his fingers tighten on the binder. All he wanted to do was drop off the stupid papers and hope his partner was fine with doing the project by themselves. 

Slowly, he turned the doorknob and stepped inside. The lights blinded him, a tv was playing on a random channel, a radio station played some sort of upbeat tune and he heard the thumping of feet above his head.

“up here!” the voice came from above. 

He took one more glance around before taking the steps two at a time, the hallway was just as lit as the living room, every door he passed had the lights on and he finally stopped behind the only closed door, music playing from a speaker somewhere inside.

The door opened, “Mom, did you-” she stopped suddenly. 

Tsuki stared down at the girl in front of him, she wore an oversized sweatshirt and joggers. Her hair was piled up on top of her hair. She leaned against the door frame, “You’re not mom.”

“Do I look like your mom?” he deadpanned

“Well, you got the condescending look down.” she smirked, “You’re in my class, what are you doing here?” she crossed her arms and looked him up and down. 

“Here.” He pushed the binder into her hands, “We’re partners for a project in school. It’s all in there, due in 6 weeks.” He turned to leave. 

He got as far as halfway down the stairs when the shock wore off and she thundered down after him.

“wait wait wait! You come to my house, tell me that we are partners for a project, and you expect me to do it all my myself?” She slides down the banister until she stops in front of him, making him come up short. 

“what else needs to be explained, shorty?” he looked down his nose at her. 

“You’re gonna pull your weight with this project, jolley green giant.” 

his frown deepened. “I don’t do partner projects.” 

She smiled up at him, “let me get my jacket.”

“what for?” he called after her.

“Because we might as well start now! You can borrow my sisters bike!”

☾ ☽ Week 1

It was on the tip of the tongue. Questions upon questions, but he bit his tongue, he refused to talk first. Instead the words just tumbled over and over again in his head. 

She biked beside him, a green jacket thrown over her hoodie and her bag thrown across her body. The full moon was the only light they had and the summer wind threw back her hair and he glanced at her to find that her eyes were closed. She was the most peaceful when her eyes were closed. 

He couldn’t take it anymore, the silence.

“Where are we going? You know we have school tomorrow.” his voice seemed unnaturally loud.

she looked over at him, the moon causing her eyes to seem brighter than usual “you’ll see.” 

Finally, they came to an overlook and parked their bike under a sakura tree. 

The ground crunched beneath their feet as they came to a railing. Tsuki stopped short and she reached up to close his mouth with her fingertip. 

It was a 360º view of Sanriku, the rhododendrons flowers blanketed the side of the mountain for as far as the eye could see, the sweet smell of flowers overwhelmed him.

she leaned with her elbows on the railing. “You know whats cool? These flowers are actually a blushing pink color. But at night, under the moon, they almost look violet.” she looked up at him. 

“some things look different in the dark.”

☾ ☽ Week 2

He woke up to the sound of his phone ringing, without thinking he blindly searched for it and answered, before he even brought it to his ear he could hear the notes of music.

“hey! you’re awake, skyscraper?”

“What the hell do you want, hobbit?” he grumbled and blinked blearily at his alarm clock, “it’s almost 2 am.” 

“Well I have another idea for our next location! But we gotta do it now, we can get in for free under the cover of night.” 

he could just imagine her. Walking up and down her room, lights on and music playing, twirling her hair around her finger, probably looking for a hoodie.

“I’ll take your silence as a yes! I’ll come pick you up after I find a hoodie.....”

☾ ☽

“Are you kidding?” he deadpanned.

“What? it’s perfect! Now help me push this thing.” she bent down and grabbed the end of the kayak, moving it only a couple of inches before she gave him a pointed look.

Sighing, he bent down and helped her move the kayak until it was even with the dock and she could jump in. 

“Come on! This is a two person thing.” 

“Why did I let you talk me into this?”

the moon reflected her profile into the still water, a fish flicked the surface and her face rippled. He took a step into the kayak.

She smiled at him and tossed him a paddle.

They glided through the water, him paddling on the right and she on the left. He sat behind her, his legs splayed on either side of her so he could fit. 

Again, the silence bothered him.

“Do you ever sleep?” he asked suddenly.

If he wasn’t paying so much attention to her he would have noticed her back stiffen. 

“why do you think I dont?” 

He shrugged but realized she probably couldn’t see that. “Oh I don’t know, maybe because you always seem to be up in the middle of the night, I’ve never seen your house without any lights on.”

She stops paddling but he keeps going. He can’t see her face, and for once, he wishes she would turn around.

“I...just don’t like to sleep.”

“who doesn’t like to sleep?”

she picks up the paddle again, disrupting the surface one stroke at a time. “someone who has too many dreams.” 

☾ ☽ Week 3

It was a Saturday night and he hadn’t heard from her all week. He turned off his computer and looked at his phone. This was peak time that she should be calling him, but what if she didn’t call? Then they would be a week behind the project. He paced his room, his phone clenched in his hand. He clicked on the buttons angrily.

No answer. He tossed his phone on the bed and laid down. Ten minutes later he was pacing again. He cursed and grabbed his phone and jacket. Silently making his way out of his house.

☾ ☽

*tap, tap tap*

She awoke with a start, her lights momentarily blinding her before he realized where she was at. She leaned out of her window and stared down at Tsuki, his arm cocked back to throw another rock.

“what are you doing?” she half whispered half yelled.

“Tch, idiot, I don’t want to be behind on the project so grab your hoodie and come on.” he walked away, leaving her to stare at him open mouthed. 

“where are we going?” she asked him as they grabbed their bikes and walked down the road. 

“you didn’t answer your phone.” he said, ignoring her question. 

“I had it on mute, hoping to catch a few Z’s.”

Immediately he felt bad, he had woken her up. But then he remembered that she had also woken him up before as well. “i’m sorry.” he heard himself say anyway.

She shook her head, her hair piled on top of her head, “don’t be. I’m thankful you woke me up, I was just starting to dream.” 

the rest of the ride was in silence until he finally brought them to their next location.

“a park.” she said with a smile, getting off her bike the rest of the way.

Before them lay a green field, a playground that was surrounded by strange, different styles of twisting metals and granite rocks chiseled to reveal a figure.

“A statue park.” he corrected, “artists all over Miyagi enter their statues and art in hopes of getting picks to have it displayed here.” 

Together they walked through the swaying grass, the silver of moon casting the statues faces into grimaces and sneers. She shook her head in wonder as they walked among the stones and metal.

“I like this one!” she said, pointing at a woman with a ring of drums around her that acted like a skirt. Tsuki watched as she played an offbeat tune on the statue. He laughed.

“look over there!” she suddenly pointed and grabbed his hand, running towards an exhibit. He looked down at their joined fingers, his large palm easily overwhelming her small one. He tightened his fingers. 

A large, plush cushion lay suspended in the air by a steel tractor type, a gossamer fabric hung over the top. The two of them climbed into it. “I think i’m supposed to unlatch something.” he heard her say, but he was too busy looking at the fabric laid over top. 

faint, dark lines were carefully drawn through the fabric, making it so that he could see the constellations in the sky. There was a loud click and he was suddenly thrown on his back as the large cushion suddenly swung in the air.

“WOOHOO!” he looked over to see her wobbling on her legs, the air rushing to meet her face.

“this is so cool!” she gasped, and slowly made her way over to him as the cushion swayed like a pendulum. She laid down beside him, her head on the his shoulder and his arm immediately went around her. 

“Im afraid to fall asleep.” she whispered after they had been laying down together for while, he had honestly thought she had fallen asleep.

“go ahead.” he grunted, he felt her shake his head.

“I can’t...I might dream.”

“what do you dream about?”

“...someone.”

he tightened his hold on her. “It’s just a dream, if it looks like your dreaming, i’ll wake you up.” he promised. his lips brushed against her hair, not hard enough for her to feel it, but close enough for him to close his eyes and inhale her scent.

And that’s how the workers of the park found them the next day, curled into one another, the cushion still swinging, the morning light not bothering either of them.

☾ ☽ 1 day later

He stood in front of her house, the flowers he had picked up on the way there dropped from his hand. 

A red, ugly foreclosure sign was the only thing he could see. 

She was gone. 

☾ ☽

Part 2

[solynaceawrites]

Promise Me Forever [6]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Lirael Thorne (OC) Tags: Slow Burn, Romance, Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe, First Time, Friends to Lovers Chapters: 6/14 co-written by @lickitysplitfic​ Summary: An old, long-forgotten promise between gods comes back to haunt Dante when it deposits an unfamiliar woman on his door. Claiming to be the descendant of Ler, she says that they’re meant to fulfill the oath made by Sparda centuries ago, and all he can do is watch as she turns his life upside down. Yet when her parents come knocking, demanding the oath be fulfilled, he’s forced to choose: return to the bachelor ways he loved so much, or give in to the emotions brewing between him.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Dante stares at his reflection in the mirror of his bathroom. There are dark circles under his eyes, his hair hanging in strands around his face. Three days' worth of stubble covers his jaw, and although he knows he should get himself together and make himself presentable, his stubborn streak makes him defiant. Because she will like it, and he's tired of it.

Not that he's tired of Lir: it's been a few weeks since she arrived in his shop, and to be frank, she has made a vast improvement on his life. Not just the cooking and cleaning and calling the plumber when the sink broke, but in other ways he can't describe. He finds himself working harder, acting better. He spends less time sleeping and more time getting jobs, stopped eating crap and drinking Jack and being wasteful.

It's terrible, and he hates it. When has Dante Sparda ever needed to take care of himself? Survive, sure. Food to eat and a roof over his head and a sweet ass bike was all he ever needed. Fuck, even that is better, because he suddenly can afford the good gas to put it in and she's been purring like a dream every time he goes for a ride.

He stares at himself and curses. "She ain't worth this," he mutters. A damned lie, but if you can't lie to yourself, then who can you lie to, right?

She has made him better in every way except one. Dante hasn't slept a full night since she's arrived. He spends his nights tossing and turning, thinking about her down the hall, picturing her hair and her smile and the way she wears a t-shirt cinched at the waist and god damn he has it bad. Except he doesn't, because he refuses to, because Lir is way too young and way too naive and way out of his league.

"Fuck," he curses. 

Which brings Dante to his newest problem: he hasn't gotten his rocks off since she's been living at the Devil May Cry. It just never felt right, because as soon as he'd grab the snake she'd surface in his mind's eye, and he'd hear her tell him again that she was trained in the art of pleasure. What the hell did that even mean? He had no idea, but what he does know is he is about to burst. So, in an act of defiance, he grabs the bottle of lotion he didn't know he owned that sits on the side of the sink, tosses away the towel from his shower, and opens the cabinet under the sink where he has some dirty magazines hidden.

He places the first magazine he can grab on the edge of the sink, balancing it on one thigh as he finds a good picture. There, Miss June, her flirty cowgirl boots just what the doctor ordered. He holds the book open with one hand as the other pumps some lotion. But it's clogged, so he leans his elbow on the book, hooks the bottle under his arm, and uses his chin to press the top, letting a glob out and into his palm.

He lets it warm for a second, and that proves to be a mistake. Because, while he's standing there with his dick half-hard and Miss June's legs spread just enough to glimpse the curls between her thighs, the door that in his infinite wisdom he hadn't locked starts to open. There's a split second where he considers shoving back against it, but her shoulder is already between it and the jamb and he knows he'll hurt her.

So, he does the second best thing. With a strangled yelp, he whirls around, tripping over his towel and nearly going headfirst into the tub. There's a squeak from Lir, whether surprise at seeing him on the other side or surprise at seeing his bare ass or both he doesn't know, a muffled thud, and then the door slams shut. Dante pushes himself away from the wall he'd fallen against, listening for her, trying to gauge what she's doing, and his gaze falls on the lotion and magazine. Shit, if she caught a glimpse of either of those, then she's gonna have exactly zero doubts about what he was up to, and that makes his neck heat in a way he's unfamiliar with.

"Um . . ." Her voice, muffled by the door. "Do you . . . Uh." She clears her throat. "I can . . . I'm going to make some coffee."

"Hey, Lir, just—!" He takes a step, but the towel is still wrapped around his foot, and he goes down, his hand scrabbling for anything to stop himself. Dante ends up grabbing the shower curtain and pulling it down with him, the rings popping off and bouncing off the tile as he crashes to the floor, the curtain falling on top and the rod smacking him in the back before rolling away.

"Dante?" The doorknob turns, but she doesn't open it. "Are you okay? I heard a crash."

"Yeah, uh . . . just don't open the door. One minute." With a groan he climbs up, grabbing the towel to wrap around his waist, and once the important bits are covered he steps over the mess and opens the door.

At the last second he spies the magazine, still open to Miss June in the sink, and he grabs it and puts it behind his back. Lir looks up at him in shock, and he uses his free arm to lean on the side of the door jamb, trying to look casual. "What's up?" he grins.

"Towels," she stammers, and the sight of the red that colors her cheeks is the last thing he needs right now, which is why it makes no sense that he enjoys it. "Towels! I came in to bring the towels from the laundry. I didn't realize you were in here. I had music playing downstairs on the jukebox, so I didn't hear the water running, and, um . . ."

"Hey, it's all good. I was just finishin' up." Or trying to, he thinks. 

She doesn't look convinced in the slightest. "Are you sure? I can put them away later, or . . ." Her eyes shift to the sink as she trails off, and he remembers the lotion balanced on the edge, and something in them flickers as they return shyly to him. "Do you need help?"

"Not the kind you can give," he says.

"What?"

"No, nothing." He straightens up, still holding the magazine behind his back. "Just tripped is all. Might need a new shower curtain though."

Lir peers around him, her brows rising. "Did you hurt yourself?"

I'm hurting, alright. "Nah." He steps aside and nods towards the counter. "Just put the towels there, I'll get them in the cabinet."

She squeezes around him, stepping over the shower curtain. After putting down the toilet lid she stacks the towels on top before turning around and grabbing the curtain rod. "Let me see if I can get this up so you don't trip again," she chuckles.

Dante uses the moment to toss the magazine into his bedroom, aiming it so it sails behind his bureau. With that taken care of, he turns back, groaning internally to see her on her hands and knees, hips up and facing him as she crawls around, collecting the curtain rings that had snapped.

"You know," she says, reaching out to grab one that rolled behind the toilet, and his mouth goes painfully dry, "my youngest sister, Ilya, snapped our curtain rings once, and my father used unbent paperclips until he could purchase new ones. And I'm pretty sure I saw a box of paperclips downstairs on your desk."

"Uh-huh." Her shirt slips down the arch of her back, revealing the smooth skin beneath. Dante knows he should stop staring, and yet . . . "Paperclips. Right."

"It'll at least get you through a few days until I can order you some." Lir kneels back on her legs, counting the rings in her hand, and Dante bites his lip. She even kneels straight, like how she sits, one of the hundred little things he's noticed about her over the days and days spent together, and it's freaking adorable. And he hates it.

She glances over her shoulder. "Okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Uh . . . why don't you go find them? Then I can get dressed."

He points to the towel on his hips and Lir's mouth pops open before promptly shutting. "Oh! I'm such an idiot. Yes, let me get out of your way." She stands and walks past him to the door, but Dante doesn't move, forcing her to squeeze between him and the countertop. Their eyes meet briefly, but then she blushes and pulls herself away, and he leans over to watch her disappear through his bedroom into the hallway.

He waits until he knows she's gone to reach for the lotion. The moment his fingers touch the bottle, he hesitates; all he can think of is the shape of her body beneath her clothes, the gentle curve of her hips, and he drops his hand with a groan. No way Miss June, or any of them, is gonna cut it now that he's got her lodged on his mind, and he steps out into the bedroom and rifles through his closet—another strange, new thing, all of his clothes neatly folded or hung on pegs—until he finds something suitable to wear for a day off. Then he steps into the jeans and yanks the t-shirt over his head, deciding that's fine enough, no need for shoes.

It's not like he's going anywhere, anyway.

Lir is settled on the couch, two cups of steaming coffee on the table in front of her, her ankles crossed neatly as she studies the weapons hung on the wall behind the television. It's something he catches her doing often, though he doesn't think it's out of fear. She seems more curious than anything, and that suspicion is confirmed when she says, "Um, Agni? Rudra? Do you need to be dusted?"

He's startled to hear Agni reply, almost politely, "No, little lady, but thank you. We are still comfortable from our cleaning last week."

"Yes," Rudra agrees. "Thank you."

"Shouldn't be too nice to them," he says as he scoops up the coffee cup. Lir looks at him as he gestures towards the swords. "They'll start acting like they're important or something."

"Hey!" the brothers shout, but Lir laughs. "I think they're sweet," she says.

Dante rolls his eyes. He moves to sit at his desk, wanting to seem casual, but really he just likes to watch her. He pretends to read as she pulls out a notebook, making what he is sure is another list. Once in a while she stops to tap her pen to her cheek, and when she does that her tongue pokes out for a moment, and it drives him nuts how adorable it is.

The rest of the morning wears on similarly, the shop quiet except for when she asks him a question, or he reads her something that catches his eye. It's nice to have peace in the shop, he decides, and even when Lir snaps on the television, he loves how they can be comfortable together without having to do anything or say anything. It dawns on him that this is pretty domestic, and he wonders if this is what marriage is like. If it is, maybe he should have taken her up on her offer after all.

The door to the shop opens, and they both look up in surprise. "It's Saturday," Dante calls, standing up to go shoo whoever it is away. "Read the sign on the door. No appointments today."

"Dante," Lir says, quietly, and he stops and looks at her. Her face has gone very pale, her eyes very wide, and his first instinct is to protect her from whatever it is that's causing her distress. "That's . . ."

"I had expected a warmer welcome from our son-in-law," a woman's voice says, "but I suppose, given that we did not call ahead, it can be forgiven."

Son-in-law? He moves to Lir, shifting his gaze back to the door. Two people stand on the rug she had purchased last week: the first is a woman with mousy brown hair and pale green eyes, her plump figure covered by an immaculate dress like something from one of those Jane Austen movies he and Lir had watched last week. The second is a man, tall and thin, his pale hair receding the slightest bit from his forehead, his dark eyes looking around curiously. Like the woman, he's dressed in rather dated clothing, and Dante makes the connection just as Lir steps forward.

"Mother," she says, "father. What a surprise! We weren't expecting any visitors today, so you'll have to excuse  our state of dress."

"Lir!" she cries. The woman walks across the room, arms extended, and grabs Lir into a huge hug. She plants a wet kiss on her cheek before pushing her back to look her up and down. "Oh, my beautiful girl. Let me look at you! I can't believe you're here, I was so worried!"

"Worried?" Lir frowns.

"Yes! I thought you hadn't made it, or something terrible had happened. You didn't write! I would have at least expected a thank you card or something. And then that horrible woman showed up asking about things and I thought, well she's gone and done it, my little girl has ruined our clan forever by failing to impress the son of Sparda. Why else would some stranger come around asking about the oath unless disaster had happened? But! Here you are, alive and well and—" She cuts off her monologue to give Dante a look up and down. "He does own shoes, doesn't he?"

Lady, Dante thinks, trying his hardest not to grit his teeth. "Of course he does," Lir replies. "As I said, we weren't expecting company today, so—"

"Yes, yes, yes, of course." The woman smiles, though there's something sharp to it. "Aren't you going to introduce us properly?"

Lir takes a deep breath, a sign of irritation he recognizes, and it feeds into his own in a way it shouldn't. "Mother, father, this is Dante, son of Sparda. Dante, this is Lorenna, my mother, and Augustus, my father."

"Very pleased to meet you," Augustus says pleasantly. "I do apologize for dropping in on you like this. When weeks went by without a word from Lirael, Lorenna became rather distraught. We were expecting some sort of confirmation of marriage, you see."

They both look at him expectantly, and Dante realizes they are waiting for him to speak. "What?"

The woman leans in towards Lir. "Not very intelligent, is he?" she murmurs loudly.

"Mother!"

Lorenna waves her off. She walks over to Dante and stretches up, giving a little wave. "Nice. To. Meeeet. Youuu," she says, exaggerating each word.

Lir covers her face. "Mother, what are you doing?"

"He's part demon, dear, does he even speak English?"

"Rather well, actually," Dante says sharply. Lorenna's eyes narrow, but his last concern is how someone like her feels, Lir's mother or not. "Lir didn't write because she's been settlin' in, figurin' things out."

"Oh! Oh, of course. I do suppose it must take some adjusting, and she was always a willful thing. Augustus spoiled her rotten, you see, which is why we were in such a panic to get her trained properly before she left." Stepping back, she gestures to Lir, standing miserably by her father. "See? The moment I do something she doesn't like, it's right off to him she goes."

Dante opens his mouth to argue, but Lir lifts her chin and walks over. "Won't you sit?" she asks tightly. "Can I get you something?"

"Go make tea," Lorenna says as she sits on the couch. "Oh," she frowns. "Isn't this . . . an interesting material."

Dante turns to glare at Lir, who glares at him back, and then they both turn to walk quickly to the kitchen. He pushes her inside and holds the door closed behind them, hissing at her, "What are they doing here?"

"I don't know!" she wails, leaning against the countertop, holding her head in her hands. "This is a disaster! There is no way my mother isn't going to know we aren't getting married."

"So what?" Dante says.

Lir looks at him furiously. "They'll make me leave, Dante. If I'm a failure at this, which technically I am, then they'll make me go home."

"The hell they will," he growls. "I'll go set them straight right now."

He turns to stalk back to the office, but Lir grabs his arm and tugs hard. "No, please! Just let me think before you go barging out there!"

The pleading look in her eyes, the desperation in her voice, both of them make him try to get a grip on himself. "Make the tea," he says lowly, "and think. I'll try to buy you some time."

"Dante! Dante, wait—"

He steps back into the office and makes his way to the couches, taking the one not occupied by Lir's parents. Her mother's nose is wrinkled faintly as she studies the television, but her father still seems merely intrigued by his surroundings, and it's easy enough to see which of them had the most influence on how she views the world around her. "So," he says, "you mentioned getting married?"

"That girl!" Lorenna tuts. "Don’t tell me she’s gone and done it without being married first. What will people think?"

"She was probably only busy, dear," Augustus interjects mildly. To Dante, he says, "I'm certain she's told you of Ler?" Dante nods. "Good. Well, it is through him that the horrors of the sea are kept locked away, but that spell has been slowly weakening over the years. The promise between him and Sparda, your father, served two purposes: a reward for Ler's help, and a way to renew the wards before they shatter completely."

Lorenna pats her husband's leg. "Oh, enough about all that! You can talk about that later." She turns with a huge smile to Dante. "So, you're the legendary son of Sparda. I must say, your father certainly took his time in producing a son for Ler's line, didn't he?"

Dante clears his throat. "Actually—"

"You don’t really look like him, not that there were cameras back then," she continues, laughing at her joke. "But the portraits we have do show some resemblance, around here . . ." She gestures towards Dante's nose, "And there . . ." She gestures to his eyes, "Although you don't have the, uh . . . well, the antlers. Which honestly is quite a relief."

"Sparda —"

"Although I have to say I did expect something a bit more . . ." Dante grits his teeth as she talks over him, gesturing around to the room. "One would think the savior of humanity would have been able to afford a bit better. But oh well! We can't all live in fancy mansions can we?" she finishes with a huge laugh.

"I think it's rather nice," Augustus murmurs.

"Of course you do, dear." Lir emerges from the kitchen with a tea set he didn't know he had balanced on a tray he was also ignorant of, and Lorenna fixes on her like a vulture. "Ah, here she is! I do hope you haven't forgotten how to make a decent pot of tea while you've been gone."

"Lorenna." Her father's voice has a faint edge to it. "Forgive her, Lirael. Our journey was more taxing than either of us expected, and you know how your mother gets when she's tired."

"Of course," Lir demures.

Seeing her like that, like she was when she arrived, sets Dante on edge. "Your parents were telling me about marriage."

Lir almost drops the tray, and Dante jumps up to grab it just in time. He frowns when he sees the deep blush on her cheeks, setting the tray down on the table as he watches her closely. Lorenna tuts as she goes about setting out cups and saucers. "Such a klutz," she sighs.

"She looks well, though," Augustus remarks as Lir hands him a cup. "Domestic life does look good on you, my girl!"

Lir flinches a bit as she pours, and Augustus turns to Dante. "Now you must tell me all about Sparda. I've heard so many stories about him. But first, how has our girl been treating you? Have you found her suitable?"

Both he and Lorenna look at him expectantly, and Dante blinks, not knowing what to say. He glances at Lir, who has gone pale, and clears his throat. "She's great," he says.

That seems to be the right thing, as Augustus beams and Lorenna claps her hands. "Wonderful!" the woman cries. "I want to hear all about you, Dante," she says coyly. "We saw you on the news, fighting those demons in Fortuna. What a business that was!"

"Did Sparda really show up there?" Augustus asks.

"Do you have any photos from the wedding?" Lorenna chimes in. "I'm assuming the civil ceremony was small enough that her own mother didn't need an invitation. Otherwise why else would my own daughter not include me on such an important day? And to the son of Sparda, no less?"

The flurry of questions leaves him speechless. Luckily for him, Lir seems to know how to handle her mother. "Of course I didn't forget to invite you, Mama, don't be ridiculous. We aren’t married.”

Her mother looks shocked, but Augustus clears his throat and says, “Well, of course . . .  we’re just old fashioned and thought—”

“We haven’t . . . done that, either,” Lir says quickly, and Dante frowns. Why the hell are they so interested in knowing what they’ve been up to? Lir is safe and happy, isn’t that enough for them? He is about to say something when she continues, “I know how much you loved planning my sister's wedding, so I asked Dante if we could do a simple little thing here when you were available to help with it. I only got so caught up in learning about him and what he does that I forgot to send the letter."

"Oh! Of course!" Lorenna beams at her daughter. "Of course, a wedding to the son of Sparda deserves all the touches. I’m so glad you’ve decided to take my advice, I would have hated to think of you doing this your way." She lifts her cup and takes a sip of tea. "Now, Dante, I'll leave you and Augustus to talk while Lir shows me around." She looks around critically at the freshly mopped floor and dusted furniture. "I can already tell there is plenty of cleaning to be done, and I have no doubt the upstairs is a shambles. Lir was never very good at keeping house. If we're to have a wedding here, we'll need it in perfect condition. Unless you want a tour too, dear?" she asks Augustus as she stands, who shakes his head. "Alright then, Lir darling, let's start in the kitchen, shall we?"

Lir gives him a look that clearly means behave, and he inclines his head slightly to show he understands, the expression of relief that flickers across her face warming him quite a bit. Once the women are gone, Augustus leans back with a chuckle. "Always thinks she knows best, that one. Well, it's a heavy burden to bear, producing a suitable wife, and Lirael's being chosen ruffled more than a few feathers."

"Yeah, Lir mentioned something about that." Despite his irritation at these new intruders, he finds himself begrudgingly liking the open, affable nature of Augustus. "Sounds like you and your wife were busy."

"Mm, yes, all five of them were handfuls in their own way. Florence, our eldest, was the one raised from birth to fulfill this role, you understand, and so were Lily and Irene, but, by the time Lirael was born, we had given up hope on you appearing during her generation. If we'd learned of you even a week later, she would have been promised to another, and Ilya would have come in her stead."

Dante mulls over that, wondering what life would be like if it had been someone other than Lir, deciding he doesn't care to think about it. "Why do you call her that?"

"Lirael?" Dante nods. "Ah." Augustus steeples his fingers in his lap. "It's her name, though I had to fight fiercely for it to be. There is a . . . test of sorts that is performed whenever one of Ler's descendant's is with child, meant to test the potential magic of the unborn. Hers was the strongest in centuries. I thought it only fitting she was named after him."

"She was?" he glances at the kitchen with a frown. Other than some general healing things, Lir hadn't talked much about magic.

Augustus laughs. "Of course you knew that already! Must have been quite a shock for Lirael to show up at your door though. From what we understand, Sparda has not been seen in quite some time. Do you know what happened to him?"

Dante looks at him and shakes his head with a frown. "Ah well," Augustus sighs. "I would have liked to have met him. But no worries, we have detailed accounts about the transfer of power, and can take care of everything."

“Transfer of power?” The more he learns about this stupid promise, the more this sounds like something he wants no parts of, spells and ceremonies and transferring power now giving him a headache. His eyes go to the kitchen door again as Augustus continues talking, wondering what to do. If he decides to go back on Sparda’s promise, where will that leave Lir?

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 2: Thriller •

A/n: I apologize for the possible spelling errors from the Torah scene. They didn't have it in the subtitles so I borrowed from the original script for authenticity, so I apologize for any incorrect information or spelling. Reader's scene is inspired by a scene from the conjuring cause I am unoriginal af and I am a fool for making myself do this since I hated that movie and how it stressed and scared it made me but hey it was writing inspiration so yeah. Anyways, spooky chapter ahead :( Eddie + reader content coming soon!

     "He thrusts his fists against the p-posts,"

     Anyone who knew Bill well knew of his pride in his bike, Silver. Countless times had he been found barreling down the streets on his pride and joy at impossible speeds, crying out in joy.

     "Hi-yo Silver, away!"

     Now was not one of those times. Currently, Bill was descending Jackson St. wheeling Silver alongside him as he practiced the tongue twister his mother taught him, as an exercise for his stuttering. He was never quite able to make it all the way through, but that never stopped him from trying.

     "The thrusts his fist against the p-po-" He shook his head angrily, licking his lips. "Shit!"

     At that moment, he had reached the familiar scene of his driveway. One of the garage doors, he noticed, was open. His dad must be woodworking, he presumed. Sure enough, when he parked his bike in the usual spot, his dad was waiting for him. He took his eye goggles off and turned around, facing away from his current woodworking project.

     "Need some help?" He offered, walking into the garage. "I-I-"

     "I thought we agreed." His father sighed.

     Bill's stomach dropped. He looked to his makeshift model of the sewer system he had created. It was made from borrowed parts of his hamster's tunnels, with two accompanying bins representing different areas of the town.

     "Before you say anything-"

     "Bill,"

     "Just let me show you something first." He insisted, walking towards the model. 

     He eagerly picked up the little green toy soldier, dropping it into the tube labeled Witcham. He grabbed the hose that was still in place from his last attempt and stuck it in the tube, turning it on. The little army man clinked and thunked down the tubes, finally popping out into the other end and into the bin labeled THE BARRENS.

     His father watched unimpressed.

     "The Barrens," Bill urged. "I-I-It's the only place th-that Georgie could have ended up."

     "He's gone, Bill."

     "But if the storm swept Ge-Georgie in, we should have gone--"

     His father snapped, standing to his feet suddenly and his voice grew in volume.

     "He's gone! He's dead!"

     Bill swallowed the lump forming in his throat, and failed to meet his father's eye as he was scolded.

     "He's dead! There is nothing we can do! Nothing!"

     Bill was feeling his hope and happiness being torn down all over again, and his father's voice lowered into a spiteful venom.

     "Now take this down before your mother sees it," He walks over to the blueprints of Derry tacked to the wall, and angrily takes it down. "Next time you want to take something from my office..."

     He fitfully folds the poster, refusing to look his son in the eye, and storms out of the garage.

     "ask."

     Bill looked sadly at his hamster, who was climbing the walls of the cage.

     "Guess you get your t-tunnels back,"

×××

     Mike Hanlon speeds down the road on his bike and into the edge of town. He was making his usual delivery to the butcher, one of his many jobs on his grandparents' farm. It was a warm evening, which made for a nice trip into town. He sped along the main streets, making his way through the familiar turns to the butcher.

     He reached the butcher's and he dismounted his bike, ready to unload the packages of meat for his delivery. That was until he heard the hoots and hollers of the familiar Bowers gang cruising down the street.

     His nerves spiked and Mike sprang into action, quickly grabbing his bike and running him and the bike into the safety of the alley. Bowers always had a knack for finding Mike on his trips through town, and every time he would terrorize the poor boy, spitting racial slurs at him, or worse. Sometimes he would have to come home to his grandparents with injuries he would have to explain. Bowers was as bad as they come and his grandfather was right about people like him.

     As he hid himself and his bike behind a junk pile in the alley, watching the car cruise by slowly on the street, he was brought back to the conversation he and his grandfather had had.

     "There are two places you can be in this world," He said. "You can be out here like us, or you can be in there, like them,"

     He was pointing to the pen stocked with sheep, and Mike felt queasy from the fate of the animals, but knowing truth rang in his grandfather's words.

     "You waste time hemming and hawing, and someone else is gonna make that choice for you. Except you won't know it until you feel that bolt between your eyes."

     Mike saw the blue Trans Am pass the outer street and he exhales in relief.

     "Oh, Jesus."

     Still panting heavily, trying to calm his racing heart, he walks his bike to the end of the alley. He leans his bike against a nearby dumpster, back facing the door of the butcher's, and begins unloading packages of meat.

     He hears a soft growl accompanied the rattling of chains behind him. Quickly, he turns to face the door, curious. He sees the old dirty - or was it singed? - door attempting to swing open. It only opens a crack, the chains on the handle preventing it from opening. And did Mike smell smoke?

     Nevertheless, his eyes never left the door, and his breathing never slowed. He was appalled and horrified to suddenly hear the voice of his mother, or at least who he thought sounded like his mother.

     "Mike!" She screamed.

     Mike flinched, his heart pounding horribly fast. It ached to see the familiar scene before him, just as vivid as he had remembered. Charred hands slipped out from behind the door, clawing at the pavement desperately.

     "Hurry, son!" His father.

     "Help! It burns!"

     Still frozen in terror, Mike steps forward hesitantly, ready to reach the door. Hands are still clawing at the brick wall, scratching the charred door.

     Smoke unfurled from the cracks of the door, the hands retreated. Mike took a step back and the door swung open suddenly. He could hear the rattling of chains once more, and the boy frowned at what he saw. Behind the door was a dark room, the only source of light came from behind the freezer strips to the meat cooler. He could see the outlines of the meat hangers and the many figures of the deceased animals.

     Mike heard the bleating of sheep and metal clanging. Suddenly, a figure hanging in the freezer moved, looking up at him. It was a long lanky figure, everything but it's head limp. It was a distorted figure of a man. He could have sworn it looked almost like a clown.

     The figure twirled around on the chains it hung from. It was now facing Mike, who watched frozen in fear, shaking violently. It stared at Mike, two glowing yellow lights emitted from where its eyes should be. It waved its long slender arm, it's movements stiff and forced, like a marionette puppet.

     The loud and sudden revving of an engine brought Mike out of his daze. Mike jumped frantically, barely missing the Trans Am by inches. Unable to catch his footing, he landed on a pile of cardboard near the dumpster. The car came to a sudden stop, rock music blaring from the radio. In the front seat was Belch Huggins, and a livid Henry Bowers stood on the passenger's seat and popping out of the open sunroof.

     "Stay the fuck outta my town!" He roared, veins bulging from his forehead neck, spit flying.

     He flicked his cigarette at Mike who flinched, and the car roared to life and sped away. Mike stayed on the ground, still panting heavily from the intense encounters. 

     "Mike?"

     He looked up to the open door, the familiar face of the butcher stepping through the side of the building where the clown once was. He was cleaning his knife, blood stained his apron. He looked at Mike in concern.

     "Are you okay?"

×××

     Inside the Derry Synagogue, Stan Uris reads from the Torah, rehearsing. His father, the rabbi, is pacing above him, waiting for a screw up.

     "Baruk atah Adonai, eloheynu meleek,"

     "Melehk. Start again"

     "Baruk atah Adonai, eloheynu malehk... malehk... "

     "Ha'olam..."

     "Ha'olam, Asher bahkar Mikal..."

     "Banu Mikal! You're not studying Stanley. How's it gonna look? The rabbi's son can't finish his own Torah reading. Take the book to my office. Obviously, you're not using it" he spits.

     Stanley closed the book, sighing. He timidly made his way to his father's office and opened the door. With the book clutched to his side, he brought his other hand up to the side of his face, blinding himself from the painting that always made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

     And yet Stan was still able to see the crooked frame on the wall, just as crooked as the woman in the painting itself. Everything about the woman in the painting made him uneasy. Her unnatural elongated neck, and her claw-like fingers that wrapped around the flute. Her eyes were uneven and they were a blank milky white.

     It's silly, Stan told himself, it's just a painting. Just a stupid painting. He stepped forward, trying to calm his racing heart. He exhaled, placing the book under his arm and straightened the painting. See? Nothing bad happened.

     He gladly walked away to the bookshelf at the end of the room, though he couldn't shake the adrenaline that had accumulated in his system. He placed the book on the shelf, and-

     SMACK!

     Stan could hear his blood pumping in his ears and he slowly turned around. The painting face down on the floor. The lights flickered with an obnoxious buzz, matching the rapid beat of his heart. Stan gulped, picking up the large frame and hung it carefully back in place on the wall. He stared at the painting, his heart in his throat and his stomach churned.

     He took a few frightened steps back, panting heavily as he tried to comprehend the now blank painting before him. The woman was gone.

     His breathing picked up, he couldn't believe his eyes. Stan whirled around when he heard the office door creak open. But it had stopped moving. Suddenly, Stan felt as if he was being watched.

     Stan felt chills run down his spine and his skin pricked. It's too quiet, he thought. Right on cue, something dropped to the ground suddenly, and a dark looming figure unknowingly behind him. A figure with a long unnatural elongated neck, and long talon-like fingers. His lungs constricted, he gasped for breath that struggled to enter his lungs, he shakily turned around.

     Out of the shadows came the woman, towering over him, smiling an unnaturally large smile, showing rows of several sharp teeth. A shaky scream erupted from Stan's throat and he fled, slamming the door to the office and never looked back.

×××

     Night had fallen and Beverly and Y/n lay passed out next to one another in front of the Y/n's television set. They were both snuggled up under a shared blanket in the middle of Y/n's living room. The room was silent, apart from the soft and muffled voices coming from the TV. The alternating hues and shades casting from the TV and onto the sleeping form of the girls was the only source of light.

     Laughter from the on-screen audiences echoed in the otherwise silent living room, and Y/n stirred awake. She didn't have to open her eyes to know the TV screen was bright. Soft hues were peeking through her eyelids and she sighed quietly, knowing she had to get up from her spot and turn it off. She sat up slowly, cautious not to move too much and wake Beverly.

     She gently pulled the blanket off her form and it wasn't until her legs were exposed had she realized how hot she had become. Her apartment didn't have the best air conditioning, and summer nights like these made getting comfortable no easy feat. She tiptoed across the room and bent down to switch off the TV. The room was now eerily silent, and she could hear a slight ringing in her ears. She froze when she heard a soft rustling come from Beverly, who stirred in her sleep.

     A brief moment passed as Y/n prayed silently that she hadn't woken Bev up. When nothing happened, she visibly relaxed. Her eyes were still very much heavy from sleep, she trudged back to her spot on the floor, and laid down underneath the blankets.

     She breathed contently at the feeling of her chilled pillow as it met her heated cheeks. Her feet wiggled their way out from under the blanket subconsciously for air, the thin blanket clinging to her sweaty legs. She mentally thanked her past self for opting for her shorts over her long pajama pants. She nuzzled her head gently into the plump cushion and felt sleep blanket her conscious.

     Y/n was eased in and out of sleep like the tide wading up the sand before slinking back out. She was unaware of how much time had passed, but at one point she became aware of Beverly kicking her leg. She frowned, ignoring it, figuring she had done it accidentally.

     She felt the groggy fog of sleep wash over her brain once more. Until she felt a tug on her exposed foot. She frowned, moving her leg away, growing cranky.

     Y/n groaned in protest, a pouty look contorting her face, her eyes still glued shut.

     Another tug.

     "Knock it off, Bev," she whined into her pillow.

     Another tug.

     "Jesus, Bev, I mean it! I'm trying to sleep" she groaned louder.

     No reply. That's when Y/n realized there hadn't been any reply from Beverly the first two times. Not even a breathy chuckle or any sign that Bev had acknowledged her. Or even heard her. She opened her eyes slowly. Soft white slats of light that were creeping through the window was the only source of light.

     Beverly was right next to her, under the blanket, her back to Y/n. And snoring. She was fast asleep. She couldn't have done it. She frowned and propped herself up slightly to get a better look at Bev and she stared in confusion. She looked around the room, but she saw nothing unusual. Her eyes landed on Beverly again, her racking her brain for any possible solution.

     The next thing she knew, she was flung back as she was pulled violently forward across the carpet. Her head smacked into the floor rather harshly, and she temporarily lost her senses. She felt her stomach plummet and she gasped when she made herself peer up. Standing there, towering over her was an impossibly tall, slender figure with disheveled tufts of red hair poking out on all sides and a ghostly white face. Its large bulbous head was cracked and dry, like chipped paint and it was smiling down at her hungrily. It was a clown.

     She would have screamed but nothing came, she had no voice. She trembled violently in terror and she felt hot tears stream down her cheeks, she was begging her limbs to move but they all failed her. His arms were impossibly long, and they were twig thin. No thicker than a paper towel roll and they stretched down all the way to her leg, and he hardly had to bend down to reach. Her left ankle was captured in his thin gloved hand.

     The clown smiled, forming an anatomically impossible U shape, showing rows upon rows of teeth. Its eyes were completely black, save for two glowing yellow irises in the center. Y/n felt her leg grow damp and she realized he-it- whatever the hell this thing was, was now drooling on her, it's fingers still coiled around her leg.

     Y/n hadn't realized she was in pain until she heard herself whimper. Long sharp claws that ripped through his white gloves were now hooked into her ankle tearing her skin to shreds as he pulled. She realized she was slowly being pulled towards the clown inch by terrifying inch. Y/n flinched when she heard a scream until she realized it had been her own. 

     Beverly jumped awake in a frightened panic, looked everywhere around the room, but she found nothing but her traumatized friend.

     She saw her friend sitting up straight, slightly farther down from her pillow, shaking violently. Her mouth was open, and her eyes were wide and bloodshot, silent sobs shook her body and her gaze was focused a million miles away.

     "Jesus Y/n, what happened?" She brought herself forward and wrapped her arms around the girl.

     "C-Clo-" But she was never able to finish her sentence.

     She collapsed into sobs, still shaking with fear. Beverly's heart broke as she cradled her. She gently swayed her, rubbing her hand up and down Y/n's arms soothingly.

     Beverly felt her shoulder grow damp from Y/n's tears but she didn't care. She just continued to try and soothe her best friend. Y/n flinched at just about every move Bev made, and her heart broke more, understanding more than anyone, and Bev tried not to move too much.

     Beverly sat comforting her friend for the better half of an hour. Finally, her sobs had died down, but her eyes were still wide, still very much alert form the horrifying encounter. She sniffled, nuzzled into her friend's arms, and occasionally Bev's long red hair tickled her nose and she'd sniffle.

     Beverly finally spoke up in a gentle whisper. "Do you want to talk about it?"

     She felt Y/n shake her head no, and she felt her shoulder grow damp once more.

     Finally, Y/n spoke, her voice came out in a harsh whisper, it cracked ever so slightly. Either her screaming or lack of words or some combination of the two had taken a toll on her voice.

     "Y-you wouldn't believe me,"

     "Of course I would, Y/n." She assured.

     It was quiet again, and tears silently streamed down her cheeks.

     "I can't..."

Bev sighed, hugging her Y/n tighter if that was even possible.

     "It's okay. I'm not gonna force you. Here," she gently pulled herself away to look her friend in the eye. "Why don't we turn on the lights and grab some midnight snacks from the kitchen and just talk, okay? I have a feeling you're not going to want to go back to sleep. Am I wrong?"

     Y/n shook her head no, and Bev smiled. "Okay, sounds like a plan."

     Bev rose to her feet and walked over beside the couch to the lamp on the side table and switched it on. Soft yellow light lit up the room. Both girls squinted from the bright light, both of them having gotten used to the dark. And Beverly tiptoed to the cent of the room.

     "Must have been some nightmare, huh?"

     Y/n went pale, her eyes fixed on something. She had tried to tell herself that everything she just saw was a figment of her imagination. She would have loved nothing more than that horror show to be just a twisted nightmare. And as Beverly had soothed her, calmed her and comforted her, she had almost begun to believe it. That was until she shifted her foot slightly and felt pain flare up on her ankle.

      Beverly was unaware of her friend's rising panic. Her back to her friend as she rose slightly on her tiptoes to reach the dangling metal chain for the fanlight on the ceiling.

     "Now, let's get some comfort food in you. I myself am craving some..." she trailed off, her eyes bulging out when she saw Y/n.

In the dark, neither of them had seen it. And Y/n had still been in such a state of shock, she forgot all about the pain.

     Y/n's sad and panicked eyes were fixed on her ankle. Another defeated whimper escaped her throat as she stared at the three long and deep gashes that trailed down her left leg, blood staining her [s/c] and the carpet beneath her.

+++

@seasidecrowbar @bevxmarsh @supernovawriting @readyforitbitch @classiprincess @edsloveshisrichie @sivords @ravenclawsprincess @pigwidgexn @kricketwritesstories @sweetpeasserpentprincess23 @plum-duels @edmunds-torch @eddiegaykaspbrak @rosi3e @welcome-to-derry @beepbeep-pennywise @candycorntroll @bibliophilesquared @ongaku-ato-kakikomi @cocastyle @peachysinnermon @mochibarnes @captainshazamerica @kaitlynjones12 @songbird-writes @traceylader

[nemo1230]

Summers don’t last forever

Richie felt the wind wildly going through his hair, making it go in every direction possible, the landscape around him blurry from the speed he was going with. His cheeks were warm from biking as fast as he could; he was going to Eddie’s house.

It was nearing to the end of August, summer was practically ending, as well was the losers high school years. They had all finished their senior year and now were about to head off to different colleges with the promises to write and call each other as often as they could.

Richie’s heart was beating with anticipation as well as somber uneasiness. This was the last day all the losers had spent together, soon enough they’d one by one leave Derry, except Mike, who had decided to stay.

And this was the last night he’d spend with Eddie. This summer had been special, now that they had both decided on collages, they knew that this was the last summer they’d be spending together, it was inevitable that there would be a day when they both would see each other for the last time for some while. So they both had decided to spend as much time together as possible. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to spend time with the other losers, they most certainly did, yet neither could deny that both of them found comfort in being together. Just them two.

The summer was spent in endless bike rides, quarry visits, sleepovers, which more often than not ended in them sleeping in one bed and waking up, limbs tangled together, both impossibly close together. Neither of them ever spoke about it though. This wasn’t unusual for them, they simply were that way. Friends can be close right? They are close to all of their friends. But even Richie couldn’t deny that no, in fact, they weren’t this close to the others. And it set dread and butterflies in Richie’s stomach at the same time.

The summer flew past faster than they both expected, so here they were, meeting up one last time, before the inevitable had to happen. They had decided to meet up at night, after sunset, to spend the night together. Right now the sun was practically down; only last few shades of orange were seen by the horizon, which blended together with last light blue that once had been today’s sky.

Richie reached Eddie’s house soon enough, stopped by his window and quietly got off his bike, gently putting it on the grass. Then he went to the big bush where they had hid Eddie’s bike today, so they would be ready to go instantly. He rolled it out, removing few leaves and twigs that had stuck to it, and put it next to his bike. He then found a small rock and after pointing it while squinting one eye, threw it at Eddie’s window. 

At first he didn’t see anything, so he was about to find another rock to throw but then the window slowly opened and he saw Eddie’s grinning face looking down on him. Richie hoped the dusk was masking his damn betraying blushing cheeks. At least, hopefully, from up there Eddie couldn’t feel Richie’s heart missing a beat. Which, well, at this point happened so often, that he should be used to it by now.

Eddie then proceeded to climb out of his window, on to the branch closest it, then to another and soon enough Richie heard a soft thud and Eddie was standing next him.

“Hey.” Eddie said, smiling and a little out of breath. His eyes were sparkling with joy yet Richie saw something else tainting them.

“Hey.” Richie replied, smiling as well.

Richie went to their bikes, first picking up Eddie’s and handing it to him, then his own. He got on, as did Eddie.

“Bet 5 bucks that I’m gonna get there faster.” Richie said, smirking, challenge on his voice.

“You fucking wish, dude. And I’m not doing silly dares like that,” Eddie replied, rising his eyebrows, and only when Richie was about to complain, continued, now a grin on his face as well, “if the bar is so low! It’s gotta be 10 at least. Because you’re gonna lose!” He shouted and instantly took off.

Richie gasped in surprise. “Hey! Not fair, we were supposed to take off at the same time, Eds!” He took off as well, speeding after Eddie.

They eventually drove side by side, each taking turns to sometimes speed ahead of the other. For a minute Richie let himself to get lost in the moment, forgetting the circumstances as why they were meeting in the first place.

It felt just like when they were kids - free, reckless, the whole world wide open, right at their feet, for taking. Feeling as if nothing could stop them, in other words, childhood innocence, that had burned bright and vivid within them. Despite the horrible things that happened - they were happy.

As the years passed, this feeling had died down, leaving nothing but ashes of what it had once been, the weight of the world finally settling on their shoulders, perhaps a bit too early, given the circumstances.

Richie let the long forgotten feeling wash over him, thinking of how they had always thought of never growing up; foolishly thinking their childhood years had no beginning and no end. But now, finally, after so many years of running around a labyrinth, only by luck escaping the dead ends, they had all come to an abrupt stop, reality hitting them hard and sharp. He closed his eyes and tried to soak in the very last pieces of his childhood.

“Hey, dickface, if you keep riding that bike with your eyes closed you’re gonna end up no better than my aunt, and she hasn’t got a single teeth in her mouth.” Eddie’s voice rang trough the otherwise quiet street.

Richie opened his eyes and looked at Eddie. He was already looking at him, amusement visible in his eyes. Richie couldn’t help the blush that warmed his cheeks. Nonetheless be smirked, “Don’t know ‘bout that, Eds, I’m pretty good at doing things without seeing much, since it is usually dark when I visit your dear mother.”

Eddie merely rolled his eyes. “Fuck you, asshole, really, fuck you!” He shouted, speeding ahead of Richie.

“Fuck you right back!"Richie laughed and sped up as well.

They had arrived at the quarry, right at the shore where endless warm summer days had been spent together with all the losers.

They dropped their bikes and Eddie sat down on a big rock near the water, Richie following close after.

Eddie looked around and signed deeply. "I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’m going to miss this place. It put us through hell, but some good memories did come out of it.”

“Yeah,” Richie agreed, chancing a glance at Eddie, who’s face was faintly lit by the now bright moonlight. “You know what I’ll miss most about this place? Besides your mother, of course.”

Eddie looked like he wanted to protest, but then he rolled his eyes and nodded at Richie for him to continue.

Richie took a shaky breath. He was never good with feelings and expressing them. Humor was always his go-to thing whenever shit got real. Biting his lip he tried to find words that could possibly explain what he was feeling. “How I felt with you guys. How you all made me feel truly happy. I spent more time with you guys than I did with my own family, because I guess you all..you all are my real family.”

There was so much more he’d like to say but something about saying this felt too final and that left a bittersweet taste on his tongue. As well as, some things he had already decided to take to his grave. For example, his feelings for Eddie, which he had tried so hard to bury, but turned out it was his coffin which was being nailed shut, whilst the feelings only bloomed, spreading like wildfires. And the way Eddie was looking at him right now didn’t help the matter whatsoever.

Eddie looked at loss of words, kind of gaping at Richie with awe in his eyes. “Woah, Rich. Didn’t know you capable of being poetic like that.” He eventually said.

Richie let out a breathless chuckle, quickly looking up to stop the stinging in his eyes that vaguely resembled tears. “What can I say, I am a man of many talents.”

Eddie snorted. “Richie the comedian slash trashmouth slash poet Tozier.” He said, and although amusement was clear in his voice, it was laced with the same bittersweetness that Richie felt forming in him.

Eddie then pushed his hand slowly closer to Richie’s, almost touching. Richie looked down, and then at Eddie, who wasn’t looking at him, but at the water.

Richie’s heart sped up and he chanced pushing his hand closer too, now finally making their hands touch. Eddie bit his lip and put his pinkie finger over Richie’s. A silent permission.

Richie exhaled and slowly intertwined their pinkies.

Somehow this felt different, closer and more intimate than ever before, despite them literally sometimes sleeping in the same bed.

This was a conscious decision from both of them. It felt like a promise, like a reassurance, like a confession.

Richie, heart beating right out of his chest, looked at Eddie, and in that exact moment Eddie turned his head and looked back.

Their eyes interlocked, and air around them suddenly felt clogged, and Richie struggled to breathe. Their eyes seemed to be glued to each other, unnamed feeling behind them more vivid than ever.

But Richie had long ago learned that it is dangerous to even hope, so with great difficulty he turned his eyes away from Eddie, looking around for a distraction.

He looked around to find any possible way of them to forget about all of this for a bit, to let themselves get lost in the moment. But the only thing around them really was the water. So that can only mean –

He got up, taking Eddie with him, since their pinkies being still locked together tightly.

Eddie looked confused and ready opened his mouth to question but Richie put a finger on his lips, and then turning to walk them to the water. He then finally let go of Eddie’s pinkie in favor of untying his shoes.

“Richie, what the fuck, are you seriously expecting me to go swimming right now?”

“No, of course not, Eds, we’re only going in half way.” He said, as he rolled up his jeans.

Eddie only raised an eyebrow at him, still looking confused. “What?”

“We can just dip our feet in the water, that’s all, don’t worry, Eds, we’re not getting in the water all the way." 

Well, that was a lie.

As they got in, Richie leaned down, put his hands in water and yanked them up, towards Eddie as hard as he could, splashing, water going everywhere, soaking Eddie’s pants and shirt.

"WHAT THE FUCK, RICHIE, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!” Eddie screamed, looking at Richie with pure fury in his eyes.

When Richie thought that maybe that wasn’t the best idea, Eddie suddenly leaned down and slashed back, taking Richie by surprise. He stood there for a second, mouth agape, looking at Eddie with widened eyes. Then, like a switch had been pulled, they both started splashing each other, completely soaking their clothes.

At one point one of them tripped, grabbing on to the other, and then -

SPLASH!

“YOU FUCKING DICK! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!”

“FUCK YOU, IT WASN’T ME, IT WAS YOU!”

If they weren’t soaking wet before, well, they definitely were now. Richie looked at Eddie, who looked at him as well. Richie barely was holding in a laugh and when he saw Eddie crack the smallest of smiles, he let out a bark of laughter, which resulted in both of them wheezing for air from laughing so much in a matter of few seconds.

Eddie got up first, his clothes clinging to his body tight due to the water. Richie looked away so fast his neck cracked. Now was definitely not the time for an accidental boner.

When he looked back, Eddie was strolling towards the shore, water still dripping from him. But then he stopped, looked back and narrowed his eyes at Richie, “Hey, fuckhead, you coming or are you just gonna stay there all night until you get hypothermia or something?”

Richie laughed and then got up, hurrying after Eddie.

They then got on their bikes and sped off to the only place they could really feel free while being together, not fearing being seen by unwanted eyes - the clubhouse.

They didn’t even question it, or even hesitate to, once changed to dry spare clothes that were always kept there, getting into the hammock together, laying in each other’s arms, the comic they had taken as an excuse to lay this close, lay forgotten on their stomachs.

Despite promising to stay up all night, Eddie was now snoring softly beside him, his arm protectively thrown over Richie’s side. Yet Richie couldn’t even close his eyes. He couldn’t stop thinking about their pinkies interlocked together at the quarry, the sudden change of air between then, the intense eye contact they had shared, like a whole conversation might have happened, feelings so strong behind their eyes daring to spill out.

Richie wondered what would have happened if he had let the words out, if he wouldn’t have stupidly ruined the moment, how Eddie would have reacted. He couldn’t deny that he had seen something within Eddie’s eyes as well. It couldn’t have been his imagination, not this time. Not this time.

Suddenly, overcome by strong determination, he decided to wake up Eddie and confess then and there. Yes! He had seen something there, and this time it was real. It’s his last chance to say something and this time he is going to follow it trough!

Already lifting his hand to shake Eddie awake he came to an abrupt stop, his hand hanging in the air.

This truly was the last time they had together. What if he laid his heart bare only for Eddie to find him disgusting and leaving him? That was not the way he wanted their last meeting to end, that’s not the last memory he wanted to have of Eddie.

Signing, he put his hand down, gently putting it on the hand Eddie had draped over him. If he was bound to suffer, well, then better to follow it trough.

The morning came faster than both of them would have ever wanted. Richie was woken up by Eddie shuffling around the hammock, trying to get out of it.

Richie, barely wake, mumbled something resembling “don’t leave”.

“Rich, we have to get up, it’s already sunrise, and you know I have to be back soon, or my mom will murder me.” Eddie said, as he once again tried to get up. “Hey, dumbass, would you mind removing your unnaturally long limbs from me, I’d like to get out of this hammock in the close future.”

Richie snorted and then rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust to the light. “Unnaturally long limbs? Eds, you’re just bitter you’re short.” He said, but reluctantly removed his legs, that somehow had ended up thrown over Eddie, nonetheless.

They both then exited the clubhouse, throwing it one last look and then getting on their bikes and biking to Eddie’s house.

Soon enough they arrived and both them were met with the harsh reality - they had to separate.

“So…” Richie started, yet couldn’t come up with anything else to say.

“So…” Eddie repeated, seeming to be facing the same problem.

“This is it I guess…”

“I guess it is…”

They both stood there awkwardly for a moment, not knowing how to actually do this. How to say goodbye.

Tears where threatening to spill out of Richie’s eyes any second and he tried all his will to stop them. All that went out the window when Eddie pulled him into a bone crushing hug.

“Fuck, Richie, I’m going to miss you so much. I hate this, I fucking hate this.” Eddie whispered desperately.

Now there was no way of stopping the tears. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me, Kaspbrack.” He whispered back, squeezing Eddie as tight was he could. 

Eddie let out a tearful laugh. “Fuck you, Tozier, I’m serious.”

Richie could feel his shoulder getting wet. Eddie was crying as well. “I’ll miss you too, spaghetti man.”

“I hope you know that if this was any other occasion, then you’d be getting punched in the face for that nickname.”

“Of course I know, I’m taking advantage of the situation.”

They stayed like that, in each other’s arms, for as long as the time allowed them. And a little more.

The sun was already at the horizon, first rays reflecting on their tear stained cheeks.

They reluctantly pulled apart, looking at each other. The same intense feeling rose between them, and Richie had never in his life wanted to kiss Eddie quite this much.

All of a sudden, Eddie reached his hand forward, placing it on Richie’s cheek, wiping at the tears. He gave him a bittersweet smile, that didn’t really reach his eyes. “Promise to write and call?”

Richie, who had practically stopped functioning properly with Eddie’s hand on his cheek and all, took a while to understand what Eddie had said. When he did come to his senses, he smiled back at Eddie with the same bittersweet smile,.“Of course. I promise.”

Eddie then removed his hand and stepped back. Richie’s whole body screamed to follow him, to follow him anywhere in the world, but he felt paralyzed, completely stuck to the ground he was standing on.

Eddie wiped one of his own tears and then nodded to himself. “Goodbye, Richie.”

There were a million things Richie wanted to say to him in that moment, he wanted to scream for him to stay or to let him come with him or that he loved him, that he loved him so god damn much it hurt, or anything else, anything other than -

“Goodbye, Eds.”

Eddie looked at him one last time, with something in his eyes that Richie couldn’t quite place, and then turned around, climbing the tree that led to his window. Richie watched him until he had safely gotten in his room and was looking down at Richie.

He smiled at him one last time before closing the window and walking away.

And that was the exact moment Richie’s world crumbled to pieces, something in him snapping in half. If he had to guess, then he'd say that, that was his heart.

Getting on his bike to leave, he couldn’t help but imagine what would have happened if he had actually said something. What might have been.

As he biked away, it felt like leaving behind a half of him. His love, his childhood, his safety.

Oh, how he wished this summer would have lasted forever.

Behind him, Eddie’s house grew smaller and smaller. 

[prolestariwrites]

Time To Go [2]: Dante Makes Hot Dogs And Doesn’t Get Laid

Fandom: Devil May Cry Rating: M Characters: Nero, Dante, Vergil, Kyrie, Nico, Trish, Morrison Tags: Mystery, Humor, Missing Person, First Time, Family Drama, Family Bonding, Post-Canon Chapter: 2/9 Chapter [1]

Summary: When Kyrie goes missing, Nero goes on a desperate search to find her. Unfortunately, Dante and Vergil go too. Sparda boys shenanigans, fighting demons, a smattering of family drama, and male bonding (otherwise known as Nero’s worst nightmare). Please check it out below, or you can read on FFNet or AO3. Beta read by @copper-wasp.

Now posted! Chapter 2: Dante Makes Hot Dogs And Doesn't Get Laid, in which Dante and Nero get a clue to what happened to Kyrie.

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Dante can feel the tension radiating from Nero as he drives the van back towards Fortuna. The kid hadn’t said anything since Dante insisted on the keys, slouched instead in the passenger seat as he stared out the window. It had taken every last ounce of his wits to navigate the city streets—driving the van after being used to his bike felt like he might as well be driving a whale—but now that they are on the highway, he relaxes a bit and glances over.

“Still nothing?” he asks.

“The phone hasn’t rung, has it?” Nero bites back sarcastically.

Dante’s lips press together; the kid is just as sarcastic as Vergil, one of the hundred ways they are similar without meaning to be. Genes are a hell of a thing, he has come to realize, so he tries another approach. “Tell me what you did today—maybe I can help figure out what’s missing.”

Nero looks at him skeptically, but sits up a bit. “I woke up and Kyrie was gone. She uh… she slept in my room last night.” Dante glances over with his brows raised and spots the blush on Nero’s face before he turns back to the window. What was that about? “I figured she had a meeting or something, something to do. It was late enough that the kids had already left for school.

“I went downstairs and got breakfast, checked for messages, checked the mail. By lunchtime I hadn’t heard from her, so I called her cell, but she didn’t answer.”

“Was her phone in the house?”

“Huh?”

“What I said,” Dante replies. He switches lanes abruptly, sending the van rocking for a moment. “Did you check the house for her phone?”

Nero frowns. “No. But I didn’t hear it ring.”

“Could be dead. Or she doesn’t have it on her. But go on.”

Nero hesitates for a second, as if considering, and then continues, “Nico was in the garage. She said she hadn’t seen her either. I walked around a bit, went to the store, checked at the cafe she likes. Nobody saw her.”

“Nico didn’t hear her leave?”

Nero snorts. “Nico wouldn’t hear a dinosaur when she’s working in the garage.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know. Would you keep your hands on the wheel?” Dante stops fixing the mirrors at Nero’s exasperated tone. “I called more people. No one had talked to her today. Then I got a phone call about somebody who needed help. It wasn’t the cops though, it was an anonymous tip. But when I got there, nobody was there.”

“That’s weird.”

Nero sighs and puts his foot up on the dashboard. “Happens sometimes. Somebody wants me to fight a demon but it clears off before I get there. When I got back home, the kids were there, but still no Kyrie. That’s when I got really worried.”

His phone rings, startling them both, and Nero nearly drops it out the window as he fumbles for it. “Yeah?” he says quickly, his shoulders tense. “No,” he growls, “we’re at least ten minutes away… No, he can’t have ice cream… For fuck’s sake, Nico, can you just handle it? Tell them to get their homework done and go to bed… I don’t know, make them sandwiches or something.”

He jabs at the screen angrily before rubbing his forehead. “God help us all if she ever becomes a mother.”

Dante snorts at that. “Yeah, she don’t seem the type.”

Nero goes back to staring out the window. He is quiet for a few minutes before he says, “If something’s happened to her—”

“She’s fine ,” Dante insists.

There is another brief silence, and Dante mulls over what to do. Nero is usually a fairly level-headed kid… at least as level-headed as a twenty-four-year-old half-devil can be. But he has a stubborn streak a mile wide and a blind spot the size of the Grand Canyon when it comes to Kyrie, so his main worry now is keeping him from doing something rash and getting his ass handed to him. He swerves a bit while deep in thought to avoid a pothole, but almost sideswipes a car in the next lane. The car blares its horn and Dante blows his own back, flipping them off as the car speeds by. “Watch where you’re going!” Nero yells.

“He almost ran into me!” he protests.

“Christ, just get us home in one piece,” mumbles Nero.

Dante huffs, putting the turn signal on to switch lanes. Soon their exit appears, and they arrive in Fortuna without further incident. When he parks in front of the house Nero leans over to yank the keys out of the ignition. “You are never driving my van again,” he announces as he jumps out of the passenger side.

“Whatever.” Dante walks around the vehicle and follows Nero into the garage. It is empty, and he glances curiously at the array of gadgets in various stages of building that lay scattered on the work table. Nero leads him through the door to the kitchen, where they find Nico. “Finally,” she sighs, hands on her hips.

“Where’s the note?” Nero asks.

“I’ll get it. Here.” She yanks a plate of steaming hot dogs out of the microwave and shoves it at Dante. “Go feed them.”

Dante frowns as she hurries out of the kitchen. “Come on,” Nero grumbles, leading him into the dining room.

Their place is almost as big as Dante’s building, but with nine people in the house it is cluttered with stuff. Bins of toys, shelves filled with books, shoes stacked by the front door, and the cartoons blaring on the television make the house feel much cozier. However, as he navigates the toy-strewn floor Dante decides he prefers his own place. This is especially true when they get through the family room to the dining room, where six faces turn when they enter, all talking excitedly.

Nero actually smiles a bit when they are so happy to see him, and Dante decides to get in on things. “Hey, kids!” he says with fake enthusiasm, lifting up the plate dramatically. “Uncle Dante made you some dogs!”

The entrance goes flat, the room silent as they gape at him. Nero sighs as Dante lays the plate on the table, moving to stand behind the head chair. “Listen, guys, you’re gonna be on your own tonight.” He nods to the oldest boy who looks about twelve or so. “Samuel, you’re in charge. I want you all to eat and get to bed.”

“Where’s Kyrie?” Samuel asks.

“She’s working tonight,” Nero says. “I’m gonna go pick her up, but it will be a while. Nico will be here if there’s an emergency.” He narrows his eyes and drops his voice a bit. “Everyone got it? We need everyone’s help for this team to work.”

The kids agree and Nero starts handing out the hot dogs, stopping when he is done to give Samuel a few quiet instructions. Dante waits with his arms folded until a hand tugs on his jacket.

“Are those real guns?” one of them asks, pointing to Dante’s hips.

“Uh…” He looks over at Nero, who isn’t paying attention. “Yeah, they are.”

“Can I have one?”

“No.”

“Can I touch it?”

He frowns down at the little boy, who is staring at him with an eager curiosity. “No!”

“Do you kill people with it?”

“Nero?” he shouts. “You ready?”

Nero glances over and nods, and after giving Samuel a firm pat on the shoulder, he leads him back out to the garage. Dante glances behind and frowns at the one who was questioning him, the kid nearly falling out of his chair leaning back to watch him leave, and shakes his head as they step through the doorway. “Kids are the worst,” he mutters.

That earns him a sideways glance as they walk over to Nico, who is standing in front of her work table. “Where’s the note?” Nero demands.

“Here.” She hands over an envelope and a folded piece of paper. “It was sealed when it arrived.”

Nero opens the note, reading it for a second before handing it to Dante. In a script that is too perfect to be handwritten, it reads: Don’t look. I’ll be in touch.

He frowns, trying to figure out what it means. “See?” Nero hisses. “Someone’s taken her.”

Dante doesn’t answer, handing the paper back to him. “Where do we start looking? Who would want to hurt you guys?”

He and Nico exchange a glance. “Plenty of people, actually,” Nico replies, and his brows raise. “Everybody knows Nero is the city’s demon hunter, so not only can the demons find him if they know what to look for, any sympathizers can figure it out too.”

“It has to be someone connected to the demon world,” he growls.

“I don’t know, Kyrie has her own set of people who would want her gone, too,” Nico says.

The two men look at her strangely and she shrugs. “I mean, she’s important, right? She’s one of the last survivors of the Order. Lots of people died, so if someone wanted revenge, Kyrie is an obvious choice. Plus now she’s a public figure. People hated the Order, and don’t want Fortuna to have anything to do with it. Other people hate the new charity, wanting the Order back in charge.” She gestures to the letter. “I’d say half of Fortuna could be a suspect. And that’s not even counting anyone who hates the Spardas.”

“I get it,” Dante groans, rubbing his face. “All right. What we need is a clue. We gotta narrow this down somehow.”

“How do we do that?” Nero asks.

He looks at his wrist before realizing he doesn’t wear a watch. “It’s not that late. I know an empath in a town not far from here. Let’s roll.”

“Fine. I’ll drive.” Nero stuffs the letter in his jacket pocket and heads for the door.

“Want me to come?” Nico offers.

“No. Stay here and answer the phone. And don’t let the kids burn the house down.”

Nico makes a face, and Dante salutes her with a laugh before he follows him back out to the van. Both climb inside and shut the doors, and Nero pulls out into the street, heading for the freeway that will take them west.

Dante gives directions and then starts to fiddle with the radio. “This empath any good?” Nero asks.

“Yeah. She’s good.” He settles on a station and drums his fingers on the armrest.

“Has this ever happened to you?” Nero asks.

Dante looks over, his brows drawn in question. “Has what ever happened to me?”

“Demons coming after you like this?”

He thinks about all the times a demon came crashing into his shop or showing up where he was, the times a hoard had overrun a town he was staying in, all the way back to the day an army descended on his childhood home. “Yeah. It’s happened.”

“Fuck this,” Nero hisses. “Why’s it gotta be us? I didn’t ask for this life. I didn’t ask to be a demon hunter.”

“Yeah,” Dante agrees, sighing as he looks out the window. “None of us did.”

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Nero takes a moment to look at the little house before following Dante towards the front door. It looks completely normal, faded yellow paint on the shutters, a little picket fence, the front path neatly swept. It is nearly eight o’clock by the time they are on the porch, ringing the bell, but the lamps inside still give a glow through the windows and Nero can hear the television on the inside. It’s not until they are waiting that he notices a sign hanging over the front step that says: Psychic Readings, Walk-Ins Welcome.

A moment later the door opens. A young woman with long white hair wearing an oversized sweater and glasses looks up at them. “Can I help you?”

Nero clears his throat but Dante holds out his hands. “Lir! Long time no see!”

“You have got to be kidding me.” She scowls up at him, and it would be almost comical with her height that only goes to about Dante’s shoulder. But her look is fierce and her voice bitter as she snaps, “I can’t believe you have the nerve to show up here.”

“Don’t be like that, hon. Besides, I need your help.”

“Help?” she scoffs.

“Yeah. I’ll even pay you.”

She looks at him suspiciously before giving Nero a once-over. Then she steps back and waves them inside. “You have ten minutes.”

“Thanks, babe.” Nero follows him as they step into the foyer. The house is decorated simply, the walls and floors wood, and she leads them into a small parlor but does not offer them seats.

“Well?” Lir asks, folding her arms.

Dante clears his throat. “Kid’s got a note and don’t know who it’s from. Think you could tell us?”

Lir snorts. “You know my empathy doesn’t work that way.”

Nero’s heart sinks, but Dante moans, “Oh come on, can’t you try? Just see if you pick up something.”

She heaves a huge sigh and walks behind a desk in the corner. As she takes a seat in the desk chair, Nero and Dante move to take the two opposite. Nero leans forward eagerly, his elbows perched on his knees, as Dante sits back and crosses one leg over the other.

“So what is this note?” she asks.

Dante nudges him so Nero says, “My girlfriend has been kidnapped. This was delivered earlier.” He pulls it from his pocket and holds it out with the envelope, but Lir simply looks at it. “Some demon wrote this, but we don’t know who.”

Lir gives a huff of air. “It’s not from a demon, I can tell you that much by looking at it.”

“What do you mean?” Nero frowns. “You can’t just know that!”

“Sure I can.” She looks at Dante blankly. “Twenty dollars.”

“Please! Just—” Nero growls and shakes the note at her. “Just take it! Try something.”

The woman’s shoulders flex a bit as she leans forward, her hands planted on the desk and her voice no-nonsense. She looks intimidating despite her small frame and pretty face, and Nero feels his ears go pink. “You listen here,” she says in a low tone. “I’ve been reading people my whole life, so when I tell you that there’s no demon on that paper, then there’s no goddamn demon on that goddamn paper, you understand me?”

Fury bubbles over as Nero curses and jumps to his feet. “This is bullshit. You’re a hack.” He points an angry finger at Lir who shoots him a scowl. He tries to think of something else to say, but when nothing comes to mind he shouts, “Come on, Dante, let’s go.”

“Babe.” Dante sighs and leans forward, and Nero gapes at him as he props his elbow on the desk and his chin in his hand. “Don’t be too hard on the kid. He just lost the woman he loves. I mean, look at him.” They both glance at Nero, who frowns. “If I had someone to love like that, I’d be losing my shit too. Only…” He gives her a slow smile. “I don’t have somebody to love. I always wished I had a sweet, pretty thing, long white hair and dark lashes, lips full and pink and ready for me to—”

“Okay! Okay. Just… stop.” But she is laughing, and she shoots him a look as she holds her hand out to Nero. “Let me see it.”

He hesitates just a second before giving over the letter. Lir’s brows go up in surprise as soon as her hand closes around the paper. “Well. What do you know? There is a demon on this note.”

She frowns but Nero says, “I knew it! A demon sent this, didn’t they?”

“No,” she answers. “It’s just a trace. Probably from you handling it so much.”

Nero feels the blood drain from his face. “What do you mean? I’m not a—”

“I’m not stupid,” she huffs, looking at him sharply. “I know a half-breed when I see one.” She looks at Dante and rolls her eyes. “Where did you find this kid?”

“He’s my nephew,” Dante explains.

Lir lets out a huge laugh. “Should have known! Just like the rest of you Spardas. Stubborn and stupid.”

Nero slumps a bit in his chair as she goes back to concentrating. “There’s definitely a mix, but again, it’s hard to tell. Should have worn gloves or something at least,” she scolds him. Then her brow tenses. “It’s someone connected to you. Someone close.”

“What?” Nero leans forward, looking at the letter. “Who could it be?”

“Did Kyrie write this?” Dante asks.

He looks sharply at him, ready to argue, but Lir shakes her head. “No, I’m pretty sure it’s not connected like that. It’s a relative of yours.”

Nero feels his ears burn as something churns in his stomach. “I knew it. I fucking knew it.” He stands and looks at Dante, who is frowning up at him. “That bastard.”

“Wait a second,” Dante snaps.

“Fucking Vergil. I’m gonna kill him.” Nero grabs the note and heads for the door, but Dante is quicker. “Move,” he growls.

“You don’t know it’s him. Don’t be stupid.” Dante jerks his head up. “And you owe her twenty dollars.”

Furious now, Nero pulls out a wad of cash and tosses it at Dante, hitting him in the chest. Then he steps around him and storms out of the house, yanking open the door of the van.

Dante climbs in the passenger side as Nero starts the ignition. “You can come, but don’t try to stop me,” Nero warns.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Dante replies, reaching down to lean the seat all the way back.

Nero glances over, not entirely sure if he’s telling the truth. Dante props his feet up on the dash and promptly begins to snore as Nero drives the van back towards the city. Up ahead the lights flicker on the horizon, and he narrows his eyes, knowing that Kyrie is there somewhere, waiting for him.

[propertyofnikkisthighs]

Afraid Ch. 5

1988

Bob Rock was a genius. After the first few recording sessions ended with nothing recorded and Nikki, Tommy, and Vince just fighting with each other; he had wised up and made the decision to have the boys all record their parts separate from each other. I thought I was going to have to try to book the first flight home after the second day of Nikki and Vince screaming in each other’s faces one calling the other a diva. Not only were both of them divas, they were both assholes with huge rock and roll egos that couldn’t stand to have another big ego in the room. Mick had become my cigarette buddy when the yelling got to be too much for us. The arguing between Nikki and Vince was so bad Tommy would even leave to join us with the occasional joint to relieve our tension. I tried to only smoke the cigarettes, but Tommy was right, sometimes you just need a few puffs on a joint to deal with those two. I loved working with Bob Rock though, he was meticulous and loved to get to the point. We were working on getting Nikki’s bassline down for the song Kickstart My Heart when Bob called for a break.

“Alright let’s take a breather to eat some food or I may go crazy” He said stretching after getting out of his chair behind the board.

“I’m cool with that I was just thinking about sandwiches” I laughed stretching as well. I stuffed my cigarette pack in the pocket of my leather jacket and headed out to find something to eat.

“Hey wait up!” Nikki hollered after me. The entire week and a half we had been here he had been trying to spend as much time with me as he possibly could. I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the company. He was trying to push “us being friends” so hard he even joined me for popcorn and movies in my hotel room one night.

“Did you ever think maybe I am a little over seeing your face Nikki?” I rolled my eyes, not because I was actually annoyed with him, I was annoyed with myself for not being annoyed with him.

“You really hurt me sometimes ya know that (y/n)” Nikki pouted his lower lip out at me which caused my lips to curl up into a smile.

“Your ego is too large for my little opinion to have any effect on you” I snickered, but was cut off by running into Nikki who had stepped in front of me. I looked up into his hazel eyes as he looked down at me cupping my cheek in his hand.

“Your opinion of me actually means the most to me out of anyone here” He said quietly and I drew in a quick gasp of breath. His mouth transformed into a smirk and he pinched my cheek lightly. “Wow (y/n) I didn’t realize you were so good at impersonating a tomato”

“God dammit Nikki Sixx” I scowled reaching up and pinching one of his nipples through his shirt (or ripped up cloth on his torso rather than an actual shirt) causing him to yipe a little bit.

“You know you can’t just twist my nipples all the time without taking me to dinner at least once” Nikki teased throwing an arm around my shoulder.

“Nikki we eat dinner together basically every night because you’re always coming to my hotel room to bother me” I hadn’t noticed I was now allowing Nikki to lead me and we were just walking down the road of the small town the studio was located.

“Those don’t count as dates and I want a date” Nikki said matter of factly.

“It’s not a good idea to mix business and pleasure” I poked him in the ribs lightly trying to sneak a peek at his face in order to see if he seemed to be joking.

“This would be mixing pleasure and pleasure. Music gives me pleasure and clearly it does the same for you. And we can pleasure each other” He shrugged nonchalantly, but his face held a shit eating grin.

“You’re ridiculous” I shook my head as he led me into some time sandwich shop on the corner. I tried not to think about how many butterflies were floating around my abdomen at the thought of a date with Nikki.

I yawned and leaned my head onto my upright palm closing my eyes as Bob and I relistened to the same section of the song getting Nikki and Mick’s parts together on (my personal favorite song) Don’t Go Away Mad. 

“(Y/N), just go to bed” Bob shook my shoulder.

“Helping you is my job though” I grumbled.

“So that means I’m your boss and I’m saying go to bed” He chuckled and I decided I wasn’t going to push it and went to go call a taxi on the payphone when I was confronted with Nikki on a motorcycle outside.

“What are you doing here Sixx?” I quirked an eyebrow making my way to him.

“We’re going on a date” He replied and patted the back of his seat.

“It’s midnight. No place is open for a date” I wasn’t about to go to a bar for a date if that was what he had in mind.

“Will you just hush and get on the bike?” He laughed shaking his head.

I figured I had nothing to lose by climbing on his bike so I got on behind him and put my hands on his shoulders.

“You’re ridiculous.” Nikki shook his head and moved my arms to wrap around his waist. “Hold on tight”

Next thing I knew we were peeling out of the parking lot of the studio and headed down the road. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my face into Nikki’s back allowing myself to indulge a little bit. I pressed my hands against his abdomen feeling his abs underneath my fingertips and allowed myself to picture dragging my nails down his torso having him shiver beneath me. I took a deep breath and enjoying the scent of leather, cigarettes, and the smallest hint of cologne. Before I knew it we were pulling into the parking lot of the hotel.

“Uh are we changing before the date?” I asked confused.

“No the date is here.” Nikki replied getting the bike settled and shutting it off.

“The date is at the hotel that we’re already staying at and eat at every day?” I couldn’t tell if Nikki was just fucking with me or if he was actually that lazy.

“Stop talking” Nikki grabbed my hand dragging me into the elevator pressing the number for our floor.

When we got to the floor our rooms were on Nikki pulled his scarf off his neck and covered my eyes with it. Giggling as he continued to lead me to our secret destination I squeezed his hand and felt him squeeze back. We stopped and I heard Nikki opening a door before he’s ushering me inside the room.

“Okay you can take the scarf off.” He said and I untied the scarf from my head. I was met with a pizza on the bed, some candles, and two bottles of water with a bottle of wine in a bowl with ice.

“Nikki.. This is beautiful” My jaw is practically on the floor. It wasn’t a lot, and yet it was more than she’s recieved in a long time.

“Well get comfy and I’ll put in that movie you’ve been talking about” Nikki nudged me toward the bed.

“Child’s Play?” I asked excitedly taking my jacket and shoes off before climbing on the bed.

“Yup” Nikki smiled devilishly and put the tape in the player.

I had my face pressed into Nikki’s shoulder. I officially had a fear of dolls now I think. Nikki was running a hand through my hair and laughing at me on and off every time I squealed and I tried to tell myself that me being curled in his lap was purely out of fear and not because I’ve been dreaming of being tangled up in him.

“The movie is over you big baby.” Nikki lightly removed me from his lap and shut the T.V. off.

“Listen, dolls are ruined for me forever.” I shivered nervously.

“I’ll be sure to get you a doll for Christmas then” I tossed a pillow at him and he slapped it out of the air laughing at me again.

“Fuck you Nikki if you get me a doll I will fight you.” I tried to come off as tough, but it’s hard to seem badass when you feel like a Barbie could make you cry.

“Oh whatever. I’m going to go to bed so I’ll see you in the morning.” Nikki started to head toward the door to my room.

“Wait!” My mouth spoke on it’s own volition. “Please stay with me. Uh, I’m scared”

“Where would I sleep? The floor isn’t comfortable” Nikki was looking at me funny and a lump formed in my throat.

“In the bed..with, with me.” I spoke quietly.

“Okay.” Nikki smiled and made his way to the bed. “Am I okay to take these off? Sleeping in leather pants isn’t comfortable.”

“I’m not going to sleep in my leather pants so I’m not going to make you sleep in yours.” I was up unlacing my leather pants at the same time he was and we made eye contact. I spun around unable to maintain eye contact without turning bright red. I unclasped my bra and slid it off my shoulders and tossed it to the side on top of my pants and settled into the bed. Nikki settled into the other side and an awkward silence filled the room.

“Okay well goodnight.” I choked out and shut the light off on the nightstand. I layed there staring at the ceiling while my eyes adjusted to the dark. I could see the form of Nikki laying next to me also on his back staring up. There was a loud bang outside the window and I quickly tucked myself into Nikki’s side.

“(Y/N) it was just thunder” Nikki turned onto his side wrapping me up in his arms. I could see the outline of his features and I couldn’t help but reach out to touch his face.

“You make me nervous” I let the words I’m thinking slip out between my lips.

“You make me excited” Nikki whispered back.

“I want to mix business and pleasure with you” I started to close the distance between us when Nikki put a hand on my chest and stopped me.

“You know I come with some baggage.” Nikki sighed “I’ve never been able to make a relationship work before.”

“Nikki we met in rehab shut up and kiss me before I change my mind.” And with that Nikki tangled his hand in my hair bringing our lips together. I had been picturing what Nikki’s lips on mine would feel like since the first time he pouted at me and I could not have properly imagined the way he would make me feel. I brought my hand to his chest and balled his shirt in my fist pulling him closer to me. Nikki tugged my hair and pulled our faces apart in order to catch our breath before he connected our mouths again. I moaned into his mouth and well, the next thing I knew my hands were pinned above my head.