#everyone in the tag seems to get the difference but also. can’t hurt to remind.

[taylorslistofexlovers]

I know we are all having fun with this Quinn/tucker enemies to lovers arc but I want to remind everyone that while we have fun on here, you should NOT be harassing the contestants about this when they come out!! This Zach situation is a perfect reminder of when it goes from harmless fun to actively hurting someone’s life!!!

[tbaluver]

Can you do the boys with a mentally unwell reader? Like she has depression, ocd, or anxiety that she takes medication for?

S/O Who Faces Mental Illness- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader tags: ( for all ) mentioning of depression/ depressive episodes, ocd rituals, anxiety/ social anxiety a/n: hi anonnie ! ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ sorry this took awhile, this was sitting in my drafts and i would keep coming back to it. i just wanted to make sure this topic is handled with care. i know that everyone has different types of depression, anxiety, and ocd so i wrote the ones that i'm familar with and gone through. i hope this was okay lmk ! ̤̮

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Xavier has always been such an attentive lover to you and he’s grown increasingly worried as he observed your unhealthy habits. He notices how you spend more time in bed than usual, longer than he would stay in bed. How you seem disinterested in eating, even if it were foods you typically enjoyed. Noticing how these impacts have affected you, he has made the effort to educate himself better on what you’re going through to understand and support you better.

If you were taking any medications, he'll read the entire packet that came with it or look up as much information he can online. He'll try to remember all the side effects that comes with it and makes sure to check up on you whenever you take them.

He notices when your energy plummets so it’s his duty to take care of you. He tries to make everything easy for you. He’ll make sure to tuck both of you in bed, turning off the lights when you both get ready, making sure to have food delivered when you wake up. Xavier encourages you to take a walk outside with him, helping you get some fresh air and encouraging you to step out of bed. He’ll hold your hand the entire time.

Distractions were one of the ways he could get your mind off any anxious thoughts or from any of your OCD rituals. He'll have a list of your favorite things to do and see if it helps. He'll stay with you in bed all day if that's what you need and wouldn't let you isolate yourself. Will also build a fort to cuddle you up in and have you tucked in his arms.

Anytime you two were out and you started to feel drained, then he'll take you back home. You two can stay in and cuddle.

He never pushes you beyond your comfort levels. If there was any situation where you started to feel uncomfortable, then he'll lead the situation and you somewhere else that sets you more at ease.

Zayne:

Zayne is no stranger to the topics of mental illness. He’s gone through extensive studies and many clinical experiences with patients. But with you, it's different. Your struggles aren’t just a clinical case to him, they’re personal. He’s acutely attuned to subtle changes of your mood and actions. He notices the quiet shifts in your expressions, or the way your eyes dull and lose their sparkle. Even though it’s hard to read through his expressions, it truly does hurt him to see you suffer. Your internal pain that you battle inside hurts him more than words can convey.

If you were to go through a depressive episode and you feel like you can’t do everything you need, then Zayne has no problem doing the extra housework or helping you with your physical health. He would reassure you to not feel guilty even though he’s busy with his work or any paperwork's. You have done so much as a loving partner to him and he will always return the favor for you.

He’ll help you shower and dress you up. He'll make sure to brush your hair gently and that you brush your teeth. He’ll even make sure you eat enough and he’ll praise you for taking every bites.

He’s always there for you. Even if he was in the middle of work, he would remind you to never hesitate to reach out whenever you feel isolated or just needed to vent, anything. Spam him, leave voice messages- he’ll read every word and listen to each message and reply with care. No matter how busy he might be, he’ll find a way to call you as soon as he can. He wants to make sure you’re okay and to remind you that you’re never alone, even when he’s away. Your well-being matters so deeply to him that he’s committed to be there for you in every possible way.

He'll keep note of all the side effects you've experienced with your medications, so he's aware of the potential issues that might arise when you take them. Will send you texts reminding you to take your meds at the right time and to make sure you eat before you take them so you don’t get nauseous.

He’s a very attentive and caring partner, he pays close attention to the triggers of your OCD and observes the coping mechanisms you have. He notices your struggle with hand washing compulsions and understands how these rituals can take a toll on you. He’ll try to help you by pointing out that excessive hand washing can actually be harmful, as it washes away the beneficial ones that your body needs.

He'll be very reassuring when you feel the need to constantly check up on things. He won't judge you for it but instead he'll offer to check on it himself and reassure you that everything is okay.

It wouldn’t be new to him to avoid places that were crowded or super noisy. He would know where all the less crowded and quiet places are. At this point, he already had taken the time to understand your triggers and sources of anxiety. He just wanted to be well-informed so he can help you avoid these situations and provide the support and care you need.

If you were to experience an anxiety attack, he remains calm and patient and helps you try to breathe. Whenever you need to vent, he’s always there for you. He’ll let you curl up on his lap while you talk, gently stroking your hair. Although he’s quiet while you talk, you know he listens to every detail and he doesn’t want to interrupt you. After you finish sharing, he’ll offer advice or discuss the situation to help you work through it together.

Rafayel:

He knows that you were going through significant struggles because it often kept you doing certain things with him. There are times when the weight of your depression and anxiety feels so heavy that it drains your motivation, making your favorite hobbies or simply just doing anything seem out of reach. Sometimes the intensity of your OCD leads you to stay up, unable to rest because you repeatedly check things like the light switches, doors, windows, and everything else in the house.

OCD is a topic that Rafayel wouldn’t tease or be playful on with you. He notices the small things when you repeat patterns or prefer certain number sets. He’s very patient and understanding about this topic but anytime you feel as if your ocd ritual was messed up, he is quick to run to your side and reassure you that everything will be okay.

Rafayel has been in a dark place himself so he knows the signs when you’re struggling. Whether you’ve been through this over and over again, he’ll help you through this every single time. If you don't have the energy to take a shower or a bath, then he’ll simply carry you and wash you himself. He’ll join you and use your favorite bath bomb scents and make it a little fun by blowing bubbles at you. A smile would curl up on his lips when he sees you smiling again.

He wouldn’t force you to talk. He’ll do most of the talking and hopefully it takes your mind off anything you were anxious about. When you are ready to talk, he’ll praise you. It’s a big step forward in healing and he would be listening attentively to everything you say.

Rafayel would text you throughout the day and ask how you were feeling. He's always there at your beck and call. If you need anything, he already has it and he's on his way to you.

If you were out in public and you started to feel uneasy, he would lead you somewhere else. Rafayel would always be holding your hand for security and to make sure you were always right by his side. He doesn't mind wherever you both go, as long as he's with you. He makes sure that you two can go to places that aren't crowded or noisy but still enjoyable and fun for the both of you.

He’s very worried whenever you take medications. He knows that they can have some mean and nasty side effects and that’s the last thing he would want you to go through. He’ll always make sure to check up on you a couple hours later to see how you’re holding up.

Sylus:

It does not take him long to notice you were acting off. Nothing can get past this man and he doesn’t want you to feel like you have anything to hide from him. No matter what the issue is, he isn’t leaving your side and you’ll both work on the issue together. He doesn’t want you to go through anything alone.

When you feel empty and you simply want to sink into your bed and lay there motionless because everything in the world was just too much, Sylus will not hesitate to take action. He’ll make sure you're eating nutritious meals by calling his private chefs or he’ll make them himself. He’ll sit right beside you and watch you take enough bites or he’ll spoon feed it to you himself. Sylus would make sure to tell you that you were doing so well even if the bites were big or small. After you are done eating, he’ll make sure that you take all your meds and check up on you if any of the side effects arise.

He’ll be right by your side at any doctor's appointments. He’ll carry you to the bathroom himself or he’ll use his evol to help wash, dry, and dress you up. Sylus would encourage you as well to go on walks with him so your body is still moving and so you can get some fresh air. He does all of this because he loves you and he doesn’t want you to lose any of the progress you made. He knows your capabilities and he knows you will get through this. He’ll be right by your side the entire time.

When he notices that your OCD rituals are becoming overwhelming, he doesn't hesitate to step in to help. He finds engaging activities for the both of you to do so it steers your focus away from the obsessive thoughts. Understanding how OCD can distort your perceptions, he uses distractions as a way to gently pull you out of that obsessive cycle.

Sylus would let you know that he’s accessible. Whenever you need him, feel free to call him any time and he’ll drop anything and come by to help you.

Don't even bother brushing off any of your issues. Anything that bothers you, he's always there to listen and help you. He’s a great listener and he never judges you for any problems you had and the reason behind your behavior. His shoulder is for you to lean on, cry on, laugh on, and hold on, etc. He’s understanding and wants you to be happy again.

When he’s away, he will have food delivered to you. He’ll make sure you eat and that you take your meds right after by calling or texting to remind you. Or he’ll just send Mephisto to you. He’ll caw/squawk repeatedly until you finish your meals.

[plzu]

sleeping with roaches - (Miguel O'Hara x Symbiote!Reader)

summary: You have nowhere else to go but under Miguel's skin. warnings: explicit 18+ MDNI, no Y/N, angst, hate sex!!!, interrupted orgasm, unprotected p in v sex, hair mention/hair pulling, hurt no comfort. if i missed anything pls let me know ♡ a/n: title from p!atd's build god, then we'll talk wordcount: 3.2k

Miguel O’Hara does not like you.

An understatement.

“Nnh-”

You lay prostrate beneath him, his right hand fisting the hair at your scalp where he’s just tugged at, causing you to react in that subdued whimper. Miguel's thighs cradle your hips, bulge pressed flush between the constricting fabric of his suit and your denim-clad cheeks.

“Stay quiet,” he mutters harshly. He feels you nod in his grip, sees your fists clench in the dim blue lighting against the floor.

This is what he has to do to keep you in check, make sure you don’t get too restless in HQ between missions.

If he had it his way, you’d be with all the other anomalies. Imprisoned. Confined in one of those cramped energy fields. No longer able to stalk around as you please, taunting him just by existing in your civvies. Distressed denim and scuffed-up combat boots, not a single spider-like motif adorning your figure. 

Because you’re not really one of them. Something Miguel is sure to remind you of with each scathing, red-eyed glare he shoots your way whenever you say or do anything that catches his attention. 

He knows the others in the Spider Society (minus Jessica Drew, who Knows Better) try to assure you to not take it personally. He glares at everyone like that, they say, an awkward chuckle that he doesn’t think does anything to comfort you. You’re not an idiot, after all. He can admit that much.

(Except that it is personal. There’s a red-hot, simmering fucking rage for the thing that you are, and the thing that you host in the confines of your flesh.)

Some of them rally to your defense, try to convince Miguel that you can be trusted. “She's not him, Miguel,” Peter B. says. “She's not Eddie.”

That's half the problem, isn't it.

He wants to ignore you completely, but that’d be irresponsible. Instead, he tries to pretend you aren’t there. Spider Society is huge, he should be able to go days without running into you. Yet you can’t seem to stay out of his sleepless radar. He catches glimpses of you on his displays--the way you pick at your food in the cafeteria; fist-bumps and easy smiles with several Peters; the sway of your hips as you roam the halls…

When he’s holding briefings about another anomaly and deciding who to send over to retrieve them, it’s your voice he picks up on out of every other quip and muttering in the room. He zeroes in on you, scowling. The faltering quiver of your smile when you notice his stare makes his brow furrow even more. 

Oh, and when you laugh? A sound that stands out, loud and brash. Prickles his fucking ears. His eyes narrow at the raised apples of your cheeks, gleaming teeth and glee because Peter B. Parker or Hobie or some other Spidey said something that couldn’t have possibly been that funny-

Deep breaths.

He’ll send you out with the others to help catch the anomalies that pop up now and again. It’s the only other time you can let loose, let it bubble to the surface and stretch its - your? - legs and bare its wretched fangs.

It’s not even yours. But you refuse to part with it, and it with you. 

While it’s beneficial to you--having you tag along with the others to different dimensions--it also means you’re out of Miguel’s sight. It’s the only time he has some semblance of reprieve from your existence, which riles him up so much it increases that pulsing pressure behind his eyes. 

Everyone else has their own dimensions to get back to, lives to live. But, unless you’re crashing with Spider-Punk, you don’t have the same privilege.

So you’re here. On Earth-928. Because you have nowhere else to go but under his fucking skin.

Like before, when your footsteps echoed in the dark cavern of his space. He knew it was you without even having to turn in his seat; no one else seeks him out unless summoned. Pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut from the multiple orange screens playing back footage of yet another misplaced villain disrupting another dimension. The sigh that crawled out from under his breath was more of a restrained growl when you stopped behind his chair, hovering. 

He hates the wordless hovering. 

“What?” he gruffed.

You answered, “for your migraine,” followed by the sound of something being gently placed on the surface of the desk beside him. One of his eyes slowly peeled open to see the blurry outline of a disposable cup. “Coffee helps,” you add.

“What makes you think I need it?” he asked, rubbing middle finger and thumb against his eyelids as if it'd undo the blurriness. He knows it won't.

“Well, for one, you're practically shoving your own eyeballs back into your skull.”

Miguel stopped rubbing his eyes to drag his hand down the front of his face until he was cupping his own jaw, covering his downturned mouth.

“Also,” you continued, “you squint a lot. Especially after being out in bright light like some kind of-”

“Don't say it-”

“-vampire.”

“Yeah, real original,” he grumbled.

“Just figured you could use some help after being out there before.”

He had ventured into the too-bright halls of Spider Society at the insistence of Lyla. Something about how staring at these screens all day can’t be good for his headache. As if out there is any better.

He doesn't understand why you keep doing this. You know how he feels about you. Whereas you visibly unfurl around the others, open arms and open-mouthed smiles, you immediately clamp up when Miguel's attention falls on you. Hunched shoulders, pinched mouth, unable to hold his gaze for long.

Miguel doesn’t care for ass-kissing. That’s what this is, right? Bringing him coffee for his migraines -- something he doesn't disclose to anyone -- has got to be an attempt to fall into his good graces. Just like the empanadas from the cafe, or the random containers of naproxen with glasses of water, all left on his desk like a meek offering.

It really pisses him off.

He wouldn't give you the satisfaction of turning to look at you. Sometimes it's like he can't even really bear the sight of you -- your eyes, your mouth, the curve of your thighs -- it twists his stomach into knots some days. But he picked up the cup of coffee and brought it to his mouth for a sip. Still hot, of course, but the cup doesn't do much to retain heat so it doesn't scald. Black and just a little sweet.

You always bring it to him just how he likes it. He hates that, too.

You hadn’t left yet, and he didn't like this swell of ticking silence between you. The very obvious space you occupied at his back made his skin prickle. Hyper-aware of your presence. It made his teeth grind.

He took another sip. “What are you still doing here?”

You cleared your throat and shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “Was, uh- was wondering if there was anything else I could do to help.”

Miguel let your words hang in the air for a moment, allowing the weight of it to settle over him as his lips hovered over the rim of the cup. The forefinger of his left hand tap-tapped against the arm of his seat, restless as he considered your offer.

You've done this before. This wayward give and take of flesh against flesh. And with a headache the size of his fist pounding in the thick of his skull...

Miguel sighed and downed the rest of his coffee before finally standing up. The slow, deep breaths he took enunciated the expanse of his back, broad shoulders finally on full display for you to see.

You're supposed to find it intimidating. It was not supposed to be enticing. It was not supposed to make excitement flutter low in your belly in anticipation for what he said next:

“Alright. Remember the rules.”

“Keep quiet.”

His head turned expectantly to the side, so just a sliver of his cheekbone and the corner of his right eye were visible. “..and?”

“...He can't come out.”

Miguel stalked away, deeper into the shrouded blue recesses of the room. Obediently, you followed. Like something lost that's desperate to be found.

Which brings you here, face-down beneath him, letting him rut against your ass in a steady, controlled pace as he pins you against the cold metal floor. There's something depraved about the whole situation, he’s aware of that, but it's worse for you, isn't it? It's gotta be; you're the sick one here of the two of you, getting enjoyment out of letting him use you like this. He doesn't even like you, and you know this.

And yet, still, you seek him out. Practically beg to be fucked by the only Spider-Man out of the hundreds in HQ that truly despises you.

His cock twitches uncomfortably with impatience, the need to stuff himself inside you almost maddening. Miguel yanks your jeans down by the hem so that it pulls snug over the slope of your ass. You grunt from the rough, quick movement, and it's not loud enough to chastise you for, but he brings one large palm down to smack lightly at a cheek just to be sure you remember the rules.

But then you moan. It's a quiet sound- something he can't get mad about. But it punctuates the full body shiver that overtakes you and it does something to him. Inexplicably makes him salivate, overwhelms him with the urge to devour you.

His mouth clamps shut — he doesn't know at which point his jaw dropped open in the first place — and scowls. “You're depraved, you know that?”

What he gets in response is- giggling? No, that can't be right.

Miguel looks around before landing a bewildered stare to the back of your head. You're laughing? At something he said?

In a frenzy, he shifts his weight so he can turn you over. There's desperation in the movement, something he will never admit to or could ever explain. When your face is finally upturned to him, his eyes land hungrily on the curve of your lips.

Miguel knows he's not one of the funny ones. There's too much at stake. He's lost too much, and humor just isn't his forte. He's too angry for it. Too focused.

So he stares at the smile on your face, listens to the breathless way you laugh after having been spun around, and lets the sound bury itself into his heaving chest.

Something in his expression must look weird, or wrong, or scary or angry or whatever the fuck else people think when they see his face nowadays--as if in slow motion, he watches the laughter start to slip from your expression, and it's like you're beginning to clamp up again. Like you always do when you notice him staring.

There's this pang of dread that grips his heart, a quick stab of pain that he can't put a name to. Swiftly, unthinkingly, he further shoves your pants down to your ankles, underwear included, so he can coax some of that pleasure back to your face with his fingers.

And just like that, a brush of his middle and forefinger against your slit, and the reserved mask you were slipping into disappears with a hitched breath that gets caught in your throat. His thumb presses against the bud of your clit and he's rewarded by the way your brows pinch at the sensation.

Two of his fingers slide between your folds, and it's already so wet. He slips in easily, warm and welcome, but he keeps his eyes on your face the whole time. No minute movement or change in expression goes missed, even in this dim lighting, not to his keen eyes. The corner of your lower lip disappears between your teeth as he pumps in and out of you, simultaneously keeping pressure on your nub with his thumb.

When his gaze trails downwards, he finally notices that you’ve apparently got yourself a new shirt. Black tee, thin white lines making an asymmetrical pattern of webs that spread from your heart. Miguel mockingly tilts his chin towards your panting chest. “Think that’s cute?”

You shrug. “It was on sale.”

He scoffs. “You expect me to believe you paid for that?”

“Five finger discount.”

One of his twitches inside you. 

“It’s like you exist just to torment me.”

His suit recedes, disappears in a digitized pattern down his body, revealing the toned, tanned skin beneath. He ignores the disappointed whine you make as he removes his hand from your heat to instead hold your hip down. He lines his length up with your entrance, ready to replace his fingers. The bulbous tip of him just barely notches itself between your lips when he reminds you to behave.

The reminder just makes your hips jerk up- the action slides him seamlessly into you. You both groan, an intermingle of incorrigible sound in the shared space between you. It feels like you're sucking him into you. Miguel falls forward, right hand coming to a slapping halt by your head against the flat, frigid floor. It makes you flinch; helps him regain control. He bares his fangs in a snarl, hovering by your face as his pelvis sits flush against your groin.

“Coño, I said behave,” he growls in your ear.

“S-sorry,” you gasp when he slides out of you. “D-didn't mean to.”

He slams back in, and you bite down on your tongue to keep from crying out.

You're trembling underneath him with the effort of keeping your hands to yourself. It's one of the unspoken rules of this unspoken arrangement, something that was learned after the first or second time. Your arms had snaked around his torso to pull him closer, and he reacted -- badly -- cutting the exchange short.

Miguel didn't know he'd react that way. Was probably some act of innate self-preservation -- it's when his distrust and distaste of you was still unwaveringly high.

Would he mind now?

Doesn't seem like waters either of you wanna test.

He continues rocking his hips into you, widening your thighs with each thrust. You must have kicked off a pant leg before; he's able to dig into you with much more ease than the position should have allowed.

Needing something to grab, your hands first at the hem of your shirt. It stretches the fabric taut against your bouncing chest and Miguel has to snap his jaw shut just to stop himself from diving into your collar bone to rip your shirt off with his teeth.

He forces his gaze lower, to where he repeatedly disappears into the clutch of your sex. There's push-back as your hips cant with every thrust, attempting to reciprocate. Give and take. The feel of your inner thighs are tense against his rolling hips; it's obvious you want to wrap your legs around him, pull him closer, keep him clutched to you but you're fighting back the desire in order to make this last. Savor the torment of this incandescent pleasure.

So he does you the favor of hitching one of your legs up. Cradles the back of your knee between thumb and forefinger as he brings your thigh up, can feel saliva pool under his tongue as he watches in fascination your pussy open up to him in this altered position. He grinds down, fucking into you deeper. The course hairs at his naval brush against the sensitive nub of your clit and it unravels something within you. Makes you clench all the more tighter around his thrusting cock.

He picks up the pace, plunging in and out of you faster and faster, the swollen tip of him knocking repeatedly against the spongy wall at your center. Relentless in pushing against the pressure that will bring you both to your release. But it coerces helpless whimpers from you, mewling that tumbles liberally from the tortured twist of your lips. He hisses a sharp shh as he clamps his left hand over your parted mouth, muffling moans, completely engulfing the bottom half of your face.

Miguel’s face hovers over yours, focused on the well of tears shimmering in your eyes like fractured glass. On the way your lips feel in the cusp of his palm, warm, moist breath trapped in against his skin.

Something tightens in his lower abdomen. It’s a dizzying feeling, intense and all-consuming and wiping all senses out of his mind. His head dips lower, closer, until his lips skim across the ridge of his knuckles. 

You notice. Of course you notice; your eyes grow wide at this illusion of affection, releasing the tears in a stream down your cheeks, disappearing into your hairline. Your pussy clenches needily around him, impossibly tighter. “Fuck,” Miguel hisses.

A full-body shudder wracks your pinned frame as your eyes flutter, rolling back in an overwhelming burst of ecstasy.

An absolute loss of control.

Inky tendrils erupt from your very flesh, slithering and obscenely alive as it starts to envelope you.

“¡MALDITA SEA!”

Miguel rips himself off of you as his suit quickly reforms over his naked body. He stands at a  crouch, arms taut and open at his side, fingers flexed, anticipating an attack.

“Shit shit shit!” you gasp, hunched over your lap on the floor as the symbiote recedes, disappearing under your shirt.

Seconds tick by as you face each other, shoulders heaving, willing your respective heart rates to slow down. Miguel on the defense. You waiting for- for something. For the head of the Spider Society to snap at you. Grab you by the throat and crush your windpipe for breaking the rules, even if it was an accident.

Or worse. Take away the watch that allows you to exist in the first place. Force you to glitch out of existence.

When your breaths finally even out, and Miguel is certain there's no danger, he straightens. Turns his back to you.

“Get out.” Cold and quiet.

“Miguel. Miguel, please-” tear streaks mark your face as you beg for him to understand, beg for him to forgive you. Beg for him not to hate you any more than he already does.

“I don’t want to say it again.”

“-I'm- I'm in control again, it was an accident, I swear-”

“I said GET OUT!” he shouts, upper body twisting towards you as his mask falls back to reveal the angry lines of his face and menacing protrusion of bared fangs.

The finality of his words makes you shrink, and you scramble to pull up your jeans as you finally stand. Head bowed, you hurriedly make your way past him, holding your left wrist close to your chest. As if shielding the watch, like it'd do anything to stop him from ripping it off of you if he wanted.

When the echo of your footsteps fade, Miguel roars and tears out the nearest bulk of metal from wherever it’s attached to the floor, flinging it hard across the room. The crash it makes as it lands becomes the resounding pulse of his still-present migraine. 

Miguel O’Hara, really, really, does not like you.

taglist: @whatevermonkey

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

Can you recommend me some good fics where Barry Allen gets kidnapped :) since in one of your tags you said you read a lot of them lol

I read them, I write them, I live and breathe them. Absolutely anon, allow me to dive into my bookmarks.

Just a reminder, always be sure to check the tags and warnings to know what you're getting into. Stay safe out there folks!

Juncture by @pennflinn may be my favorite fic of all time. Technically he gets kidnapped before the story's events but that's because it's an alternate ending to Escape from Earth-2 (and he is held captive for pretty much the entire fic so). The whump is SUPREME and the overall story is so well written. I will always recommend this fic.

One Second by pennflinn. Another one by penn because she is an incredible writer and HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS FIC!! It takes my favorite premise for a fic "What if Barry was kidnapped in this scene/episode when he wasn't in canon!" and brings it to a WHOLE nother level. This one is diverges from 1x14 "Fallout" where, instead of everyone getting away semi-safely, Eiling kidnaps Barry and whump ensures. BUT there's another twist to this fic that (in my opinion) makes it stand out from many others-- every once in a while, there's a glimpse of a parallel universe where the events were different and let's just say some of those universes h u r t. Also, I wanted to kill Eiling so bad after reading this that I wrote a ficlet with the sole purpose of murdering him :) Anyways, go read; it's amazing.

Miles Through The Night by @hedgiwithapen. First off, this is an everyone whump fic, Barry is not the only one who is kidnapped but 1. IT HURTS GODS IT HURTS SO BAD I'M DYING. 2. The writing is spectacular, all the characters are super well done, and the story is INTENSE I'M STILL DYING SORRY I'LL STOP NOW. In this one-- actually nvm, the actual summary will do it justice. "With Eobard Thawne dead, life in Central City can go back to normalish. But Barry’s greatest enemy is not a speedster from the future fixated on him, and Eobard’s threat may have been the only thing keeping Team Flash safe from someone who doesn’t consider any meta to be human." THAT'S RIGHT-- AN EILING FIC! Just. Go read it, it's so good and I'm dying.

Lightning Bug by Hedgi. The writing in this was SUPERB and Eiling is a fucking bastard as always (count your days general.). And this time we have another speedster in the mix-- a toddler Wally! Ngl, I just reread this while getting the link and it was SO GOOD-- and once again my words can't seem to do it justice so I'll leave you with the summary "Months after the defeat of Zoom, Barry's main concern (aside from the odd metahuman attack) is helping Joe and Iris raise the four and a half year old Speedster Wally West, Cisco-named "Lightning Bug." And while that's hard, it's nice to have this speedster as family, not an enemy. Things are pretty easy.

Unfortunately, that doesn't last. After all, General Eiling's deal was only good for as long as their mutual enemies were still a threat." Eiling needs to die in a ditch as you can see, but there's some really sweet whump in this and it's because of him soooooo-- anyways, go read; it was fantastic.

Can’t Take That Away From Me by SophiaCatherine (or @sophiainspace on here). DUDE. DUDE DUDE DUDE-- I LOVE THIS FIC. I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS FIC. EVen once the whump passes, the A N G S T is so delicious! From the beginning of the first chapter alone; you'll see the sweet whump AND angst this fic has in store. Oh, and it's Coldflash which I somehow forgot to mention even though that's a foundation of the entire fic lmao. I love it, go read. Also, there is a sequel but it's not Barry being whumped this time... double also; there's a prequel and it's really sweet (no whump in that one fyi)

I Never Told Him by messedupstargazer. I am SCREAMING. THIS. FIC. Fyi, it's Coldflash. SO MUCH ANGST THE WHUMP-- IT'S SO GOOD I HAVE NO WORDS. DYING DYING DYING I AM DEAD I HAVE PERISHED.

Looking through all of these at once has filled me with many emotions and I apologize if some parts were incoherent. I'm probably missing a few and may add more as I find them but for now I'll finish with these two I wrote.

12 hours Barry's kidnapped before the events of the story but I think it still counts. He's trapped in Zoom's lair and forced to run for twelve hours every day :)

Trophy this is my beloved and the entire fic is a Barry whump fest (and angst. a lot of angst.). (or will be, There's one chapter posted atm) Technically we haven't seen the kidnapping yet but in the first scene he is in a cell so. Premise is that Zoom wins in the season 2 finale and everything goes to hell from there. I do feel obligated to warn though that there's not a happy ending for this one.

Thanks for asking! I'm always eager to share Barry whump! :D

[farfromstrange]

Butterfly Effect | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 1: Toffee Nut Latte

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader (afab)

Summary: Michael decides to check out the new café down the street and meets a kind-hearted barista who is determined to make him smile. Or, you serve a rather broody customer that seems like so much more than he lets on, and you decide to take the first step.

Warnings: None. Some angst in the beginning, but nothing serious, unless you consider bad flirting a warning.

Word Count: 5k

A/n: This is my first time writing for Michael. This really was a challenge and I hope I managed to get his character down right, but the man just needs a goddamn break in his life. I’m literally so nervous for y’all to read this… Also, I read some fics on AO3 and I watched some more Michael edits and tried to get the Irish accent on his end as right as I possibly could. I also googled a lot. If you want to be tagged, let me know! (Also, if you haven’t tried a toffee nut latte in December, you have to! It’s my comfort drink during Christmas time.)

The sky above Dublin is littered with gray clouds. A promise of rain goes through the news and every radio station with the weather report. There is a storm warning for those in Ireland who live close to the sea, but the city is told to be vigilant for any harsh winds. And as the first raindrops cascade down onto the asphalt, the clouds turn black.

Michael doesn’t mind the rain. It’s not because he was born and grew up in Ireland; it’s mostly because he has been lacking the feeling of nature in its rawest form for years. Eight years. Prison doesn’t treat anyone well, and he knows the weariness after getting out is normal, but he can’t seem to find a way to wrap his head around the changes around him. The world is so much different now than it was back then. But it is less the fact that gentrification has progressed to the point he has lost count of the family businesses that have disappeared and rather himself who has changed.

He lost everything eight years ago and paid the ultimate price. He is still paying for it. He truly believed that after getting out of prison, he could get back on his feet and get Anna back - it’s all he’s been looking forward to for eight years, to finally see and hold his little girl in his arms again, but she is not that little anymore and all laws and rules seem to be against him as he continues to try, try and try, and yet he always seems to lose. 

Jimmy and Amanda are happy. They pretend to be, anyway. Their kids are bigger now than when Michael went to prison, but they’re still boys. Looking into Amanda’s eyes again after all this time has made all the guilt resurface that he tried to swallow while he was fighting for his survival in the dark confines of his prison cell. 

He’s made mistakes, a lot of mistakes, and he doesn’t consider himself a good person, far from it, actually, but he wants to be better. He wants to be a father. He failed to be a husband and that led to a loss he can’t possibly put into words without tearing his heart out and putting it out into the sun for the flesh to melt off while his nerves are still connected to his conscious being.

He knows he screwed up and that he has no right to see Anna again, but he is selfish and there is so much he has to make up for. He can’t roll over and die, he has to try, and no matter how badly his family wants him back in the saddle, he wants to leave the man he was before behind. If not for him, he has to do it for his daughter. He owes that much to his wife, and he owes it to everyone else he has hurt to try. 

A lot has changed around and inside Michael. He is sadder now, he doesn’t remember what it’s like to feel joy, he’s lost, he can’t find his way back, and the nightmares still keep him up. He can’t sleep. The bullet holes are still there. Every corner of his house is haunted. It reminds him of what he did, of the sacrifices he made in the name of his family, in the name of money, and he gets sick at the sight of his reflection. He loathes himself.

And as he finds comfort in the rain, he walks the streets of Dublin with a nauseating feeling of nostalgia eating through the sensitive skin of his insides because even the city itself seemed to scream at him in the same degrading tone his entire life already likes to take with him. 

But he can’t say he doesn’t deserve it. He can’t say he doesn’t deserve the pain the universe and himself are projecting onto him because he does.

The rain grows heavier and he pulls the collar of his coat up to his throat. Some of the droplets get caught in his bear. He should probably shave, but he can’t find it in himself to try. 

The streets are empty. A lot of familiar storefronts have shut down, buildings have been demolished and modern architecture lines the streets. Even the coffee shop he and Jimmy used to frequent is gone now. But instead of a new, fancy business building, a seemingly normal café has replaced it. 

He stops. 

Butterfly Effect.

If his education hasn’t failed him, the butterfly effect describes the power of even the most minuscule change to have a huge impact on your life - everyone’s life, really. Everything affects everything. The flapping of a butterfly’s wings on one end of the world can cause a natural catastrophe on the complete opposite end. It’s chaos theory. 

Or, a nice cup of coffee can change the course of your day within seconds. That’s what he supposes it means. Otherwise, the name wouldn’t make any sense. An odd name for a café, he thinks. But the smell of roasted beans and sugary treats draws him in like a moth to a flame. 

The bell above the door rings, signaling the arrival of another customer. Compared to the storm raging outside, it’s cozy and warm inside the café you work at. The mostly brown interior reminds you of a cabin in the woods in the middle of winter. You’ve grown used to the noise of conversations overlapping, the sizzling of the coffee maker, and the occasional ding of the oven whenever someone wants one of the snacks from the display heated up and ready to go, or ready to dive into it in a comfortable armchair somewhere close to the plants. It’s the work-free section of the café, and it has become rather popular during people’s most stressful times. 

You have been working there for only a few months. After deciding to make a living from writing and quitting your nine-to-five desk job, you realized that money isn’t so easy to come by, so you let desperation lead you to the city and landed a job at this café that, at the time, had just opened. You were miserable at first because nothing was going your way, but you learned how to live with it because quite frankly, the place is nicer than you thought. After putting aside the pessimism, you found somewhat of an optimist inside of you, and that’s something you never thought you’d say.

The café is now your favorite place to be. It’s not a coffee shop because the main purpose isn’t to sell as many coffees to go; the place is perfectly decorated for people to stay and drink inside (and outside in summer). You get the occasional walk-ins, but most people stay for the atmosphere, and you can’t blame them.

It’s busy most of the time, there is a lot of work, and the stress wears you down and often takes the inspiration to create something outside of work away from you, but it’s not every day that a stable job comes with nice people and a nice ambiance. It’s better than staring at a computer screen all day, anyway. 

You wouldn’t call yourself ‘the norm’. You’re a mess most of the time, you still can’t make doctor’s appointments without rehearsing your speech a million times beforehand, and doing the dishes isn’t your favorite thing to do, but you have a routine. You have friends. You’re as happy as you can be, and you only find yourself having an existential crisis every two days now rather than every hour, which seems to be a big improvement that should be celebrated. You’re a mess, but you stand by it. 

Most people would have given up their dreams by now, but you have always been a dreamer, it keeps you alive, so giving up and returning to a life that doesn’t make you happy is not a decision that is even open for discussion. So many people have told you and keep telling you that you are never going to make it, but in your mind, you’re right where you want to be because that is where you can be, and everything else will come with time. 

Even the smallest changes can lead to a sudden 180-turn in your life. Butterfly Effect. The place of your employment seems to be a little too on the nose with their name. 

A rainy day usually means a lot of work for you, but you don’t let that sway you from admiring the beauty of Dublin hulled in gray in the afternoon. 

The bell above the door rings and you look up. The man that walks in is wearing a sweater as dark as the weather, but it’s green and it reminds you more of a sad field than the gray clouds in the sky. His hair is dark though, and the dark strands of his beard surround a mouth that looks like it hasn’t smiled in a while. 

He’s absolutely beautiful. 

The stranger approaches you and the air gets stuck in your lungs. He eyes the menu, his brown eyes narrowing to get a closer picture of the writing - it’s yours. You updated the signs this morning, and you paid close attention to detail. You wonder if it was too much, your cheeks starting to burn bright red, ready to apologize and read it to him, but then he finally nods and steps up to the counter. 

“Hi,” you say, your voice higher than usual, “Welcome to the Butterfly Effect! What can I get for you today?”

Your voice is like a breath of fresh air. Michael’s eyes fall on you, and he is instantly captivated by the force of your smile. It’s almost unfair how kind you seem, your little apron fitting perfectly around your waist and your hair only tied up enough to keep your face visible to the public. You’re open, painfully so; he suddenly feels like a smudge of black on a colorful canvas, and that canvas is you. Your smile is welcoming, it draws him in, but he doesn’t want to come closer. It’s light like yours that often gets ruined by the likes of him. 

“Just a double espresso,” he says. It’s his old regular. 

Compared to the volume of the bustling café, he’s quiet, but you still hear every word. There is a low vibrato to the way he speaks, and the new sensation makes you shiver. You have seen many people around here, it has become a favorite spot for people to hang out, but he’s a total stranger. And he’s different from the usual clientele that comes in. He’s mysterious, but he’s not dark. You wouldn’t describe him that way. He fits in with the furniture, you realize, and he would definitely make a cozy accessory.  

If only he could see himself the same way. It’s not hard to tell that he doesn’t, or he wouldn’t carry himself the way he does. You can almost smell the sadness radiating off of him, and the lack of a smile makes you feel almost sad with him. And of course, for him. 

“A double espresso?” you question. 

Your curiosity is piqued. 

He’s not sure why you sound like you’re insinuating something. Are you… judging him?

Michaels shifts from one foot to the other and says, “Yeah. A double espresso.”

“You know we have other options, right?”

He does. He can see the menu. His frown deepens. He finds himself taken aback by your candidness. He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “It’s what I usually order. If ya don’t have any, I can look for somethin’ else.” 

You smile a little at his shyness. He’s on the completely wrong path when it comes to interpreting your intentions. It’s not like you’re judging him, not at all, but there is more to him, there has to be. Every person has a story. You work with people every day, you’ve encountered rare personalities and yet there are always those who exceed your expectations. Michael seems to be one of those very people. 

You can’t explain how you know, it’s merely a feeling, but your feelings are hardly ever wrong. You’ve been working in customer service for a while, and it comes with a certain sense of how people tick, what they’re like, and it makes you speculate about who they are inside, too. It’s what you’ve been doing from the beginning. At first, you felt bad, but you soon realized you aren’t doing anything harmful by observing. You are just studying human beings in their natural habitat, and it truly helps you get a better sense of who people are.

Coffee is the first indicator of the kind of person someone is. Unique coffee doesn’t instantly mean you are an adventurer unless there is something about you that would suggest it, just like the way you would order it or the kind of toppings you prefer. Keeping that in mind, ordering a double espresso also doesn’t mean you’re basic or ‘normal’ just because many people drink it; it’s the kind of person you see before you combined with the order that paints you a picture of who the person is.

You brew coffee for other people and make a living with that, so of course, coffee is something you judge based on. Sometimes, you memorize coffee orders simply to get to know the regulars that come in. People-watching is by far your favorite activity. 

With Michael, it’s not just the coffee that gives it away though. The second he opened his mouth, you knew. Even though your conversation runs based on customer and service provider, the air between you and the way he carries himself intrigues you because you have to admit, it’s not often you feel this starstruck by a random man coming into your place of work and ordering a boring double espresso.

But he isn’t just a random man, is he? 

The aura that consumes him and the clouds that follow him – they’re a testament to something else, something you don’t know about but that inevitably draws you in. He’s a magnet, almost. He shows so much without actually showing it, and he doesn’t even seem to know it. Perhaps that’s why he looks so surprised at your open and affectionate nature. He’s not used to people being nice to him. A lot of people that come into the café aren’t, but he surely is the most conflicted one. It’s a gut feeling that drives you.

“Oh no, that’s not what I meant!” you quickly assure him. “I get it, believe me. But let me let you in on a secret–“ You look deep into his eyes, and it’s enough to crack his foundation just a little. 

You meet his eyes and Michael gets flustered. Eye contact has become a means to intimidate, but the way you look at him is far from that. It’s different. He licks his lip and hopes you can’t see too clearly that you have caught him off guard.

Well, needless to say, you have. The second you meet his beautiful eyes that appear almost black in the dim light of the room, you see his stern expression falter and a sense of humanity flashing through. It’s a broken, painful sliver of humanity, but it’s human nonetheless. 

Shaking off the whirlwind of thoughts that almost turns you mute, you regain your composure. “We have this new toffee nut latte on the menu that tastes best with a little caramel and cinnamon on top,” – you point to the sign above your head – “You strike me as the kind of guy that could use more than just a boring espresso, especially on a day that’s already darker than our furniture,” you say before quickly adding, “No offense.”

Michael catches himself before he can lose all of his dignity. He chuckles awkwardly, looks away, then looks at you again. His eyes roam your face, then the sign behind you. He’s never been more grateful to his beard for hiding most of the blush on his pale cheeks. When he meets your eyes again, you’re still staring at him, and your smile is contagious.

You look so cute like this, with your apron and the butterfly clip that holds your name in place. Michael finds himself smiling at you, but it’s not because he’s nervous or shy – okay, maybe it’s because he is shy – but it’s because you are smiling at him so brightly, he forgets his name and he forgets what air feels like. His lips naturally curl up and mirror your expression, and he swears he can feel the blush rising to his head. A spark of warmth ignites in his eyes that was dormant for far too long. 

Whatever you’re doing to him, it’s working, and you’ve barely talked. 

I actually quite like the furniture, he thinks to himself, but the words wouldn’t find their way onto his lips. 

“None taken,” he says instead. 

You let out a sigh of relief. It’s hard to place the expression on his face, but his smile offers a lovely sight. “Oh, good. With gentrification and everything I really can’t afford scaring off a paying customer because of a toffee nut latte that you could get at Starbucks for twice the price. So,” you say, and you once again bite yourself in the ass for the inappropriate joke. 

Why are you still talking? You were so confident, so in your element, but now he has you blushing again and rambling like a teenager. If your boss were to hear any of the things you just said to the poor man, you would probably end up having a lengthy conversation about etiquette. 

You bite your cheek and close your eyes. “I’m so sorry, I should probably stop talking now. Just pretend you didn’t hear any of that. I really need this job. You probably think I’m crazy now.” 

Michael’s lip twitches again, much to his own surprise. “That depends, are ya tryin’ to sell me on overpriced or good coffee?” he asks. 

You feign a gasp. “Good coffee, of course!” You pause before adding with a wink, “Or so I’m supposed to say.”

You should shut up, but how can you when he is teasing you so effortlessly?

“That was a joke. Our coffee is excellent, and I’m not just saying that… okay, so, I’m mad, huh? That’s what you think. It’s official.”

He chuckles, his hand raising slightly as if to calm you down. Perhaps you have started talking a little fast, but rambling comes unfairly naturally. It’s your defense mechanism.

“I don’t think yer mad,” he says.

A blush spreads across your cheeks at the soft tone of his voice. He’s not as stressed as most of your customers; there is a calm amidst the storm.

“But if yer gonna rob me of five quid for a latte,” Michael adds, and there he goes again, teasing, “ya might as well get me an extra shot of espresso with that or I’ll start thinkin’ that ya are. Wouldn’t be good for business, would it?”

His words elicit a small giggle from you. “You can have as many as you like. On the house. But only today.”

You also shouldn’t be doing that, there’s a reason you’re supposed to charge for any particular changes like extra espresso or extra whipped cream, but you’re not thinking rationally anymore. Years of customer service training seem to be gone all of a sudden.

He shrugs again. “Just one’d be grand, thanks.”

“So, one toffee nut latte?” You meet his eyes. They remind you of ground coffee beans. You wonder if he smells the same, or if he smells like the rain outside mixed with the distinctive scent of wet grass in the air. You can't explain why the thought crosses your mind, but as soon as it settles in, it refuses to leave. “Or did I get that wrong?” you ask to clarify. 

Michael shakes his head. “That’s right.”

“Okay”

He nods to the pile of paper cups next to the register. “Actually, could I get that to go?” he asks. “Please?”

“Sure,” you reach for the cup, “I can make that happen. One more thing though, and then I’ll leave you alone. Can I get your name?”

He frowns.

“For the order,” you add.

“Oh, right. Name’s Michael.”

“Michael…” His name is just as beautiful as him. You use the Sharpie next to the register to write his name in bold letters onto the coffee cup. “I hope I got that right,” you murmur more to yourself than him, but he hears you nonetheless.

His eyes crinkle in the corners from how hard he's smiling. The glint they’re carrying is just as teasing as before. On the counter, his fingers start patting a steady rhythm. “If ya wrote it with a k, yer wrong,” he says.

“I didn’t,” you say.

“Then you’re good.”

You try not to pass away from the sight of his smile or the subtle praise he throws your way.

You eye him and hesitate before moving a line lower and adding, 

“You have a nice smile :)”

You consider putting your number as well, but that would be too much of a bold move, even for you, so you leave it be. You’re not even sure if he is as intrigued as you are; you develop crushes fairly easily, and it’s worse when hot men come in during tea time and order a coffee from you. You don’t want to creep him out, you just want to be nice. You want to make his day. He seems like the kind of guy that could use a pick-me-up, and you have your work cut out for you. 

Handing the cup over to your colleague, you return your attention to the man before you. “Anything else you’d like, Michael?” you ask. 

Swiftly taken aback by you saying his name so casually as if you’ve known each other for a while and he didn’t just walk into a café on a normal rainy day in Dublin like any other person around you but that you’re actually long-lost friends, he snaps out of it and shakes his head. 

You can tell he’s not that much of a talker, so you accept his soft ‘thank you’, and name the total. He hands you the money, and he tips graciously.

Michael isn’t even sure why he does it, but then your eyes light up even more and he realizes that’s why. He wants to see you happy. He wants to brand your face into his brain with a hot iron. 

The question ‘What the fuck is wrong with ya?’ Nudges him. ‘Stop it.’

He wants to, but he can’t.

You put the tip into your jar and offer him another smile, but this time your eyes are the ones holding the playful glint. “Well, thank you, good sir!” you say.

There can’t be much wrong with him. You are the kind of person many people would feel drawn to. He just doesn’t like the way it makes him feel.   

He looks away. “Sure. See ya,” he says, and when he turns around to pick up his order at the counter a few steps over, he reads the name on your nametag and calls your name most deliciously. 

You shudder. 

“That’s…” you peek at your name tag. “That’s my name.”

He said your name. Good God you feel like such a teenager.

Did you make the right decision by writing him that note? You’re not sure, but you hope he gets your hint and comes back because he has proven to be quite something else – someone else – and you’d be damned to let that beautiful stranger slip through your fingers like any other man you could have had in the past.

It’s just something about Michael that has you yearning for more. Something that entices you and pulls you in. Maybe it’s the mystery that surrounds him or the dark cloud that you seem to have been able to clear for just a moment, but you could see the rainbow following the rain. Someone just has to shine enough light on him to make him smile again.

As you look to your right, your co-worker casts you a knowing glance. She smirks, her arms crossed over her chest. “You have a nice smile,” she quotes. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Do you write that on all customers’ cups or just this lad?”

“Sarah,” you warn.

“I mean, he’s hot, but come on! What was that?”

You can tell she’s trying hard not to laugh at you, and you are this close to smacking her in the head with the whisk closest to you. For a moment, you consider it. 

“You need to get out more,” she says. “Learn how to flirt properly. That was just sad to watch.”

“Oh, fuck off!” you say, but the tone of your voice is playful.

You know the note was a pathetic attempt at flirting, and chances are he won’t reciprocate them, but at least you can sleep better at night knowing you’ve made his day better because you made him smile, and that usually goes a long way on a bad day. 

Michael, at first overwhelmed by the sweet taste of his coffee, quickly comes to the decision that he likes whatever drink you made him buy. It reminds him of Christmas, of simpler times, and it makes him feel warm inside.

He likes his coffee strong, you took note of that. While he can taste the espresso clear as day, the sweet hints of cinnamon and caramel mixed with the warm foam and whipped cream explode on his tongue. He would have never ordered it if you hadn’t recommended it, that’s for sure, but the different tastes blend perfectly and don’t take away the essence of what he truly likes about the double espresso he usually orders. It’s different, but it reminds him of home. 

The latte itself isn’t what causes him to pause though. It’s the written words underneath his name. Your handwriting is unique, fitting for someone like you, but he has no trouble deciphering it. 

“You have a nice smile :)”

The compliments he receives are usually comments made by his family, and they’re never that special. Not that Michael would consider himself special, anyway. He can’t remember the last time someone complimented his smile; his smile had never been the center of anyone’s attention before. Until now. He’s flirted with women, he’s been around, but the purity of your compliment paired with the carefully drawn smiley face next to your note feels different than where his conversations usually lead.  

He looks over his shoulder into the café where he sees you leaning over the counter through the runny glass of the window, a lolli in your hand as you hand it to a little girl. Your interaction flows effortlessly, just as it did with him. 

The child points to the butterfly clip that keeps your name tag in place. You reach into the pocket of your apron and find a spare clip to hand her. The girl’s face lights up and you look even happier than before. It's a smile not many people have, and a power that even seems to enchant children. 

The mother seems a lot more relaxed now that she’s talking to you. Michael begins to wonder if maybe your smile is the butterfly effect and not the coffee itself. Maybe you are the reason so many people come to the café. You offer solace, a smile, and some hot coffee. It’s every stressed person’s dream, he thinks, to be served by someone like you.

The rain cascades down on his tired features, but he’s not cold. He has his coffee and he has the thought of your smile etched into his brain, and there is something about you that won’t allow him to forget, no matter how hard he tries. 

He glances back down at the note, his lips curling into another smile. If someone passed by him and would ask him why, he wouldn’t even know what to answer. Is he smiling because of the note or because of you? Or is it the taste of something new? Or maybe he has just gone insane, he’s not sure anymore. 

The short moment of relief he felt inside the café is gone and instead replaced by the familiar feeling of dread. The gray of the clouds returns to his soul, and the light you have tried to light in his heart has gone out. The smile turns bittersweet before it dies on his lips, but then he looks back at you through the window, the rain turning your face blurry, and he wants nothing more than to scream at the clouds to go away. 

Michael is too weak to fight what’s eating him inside. It’s inevitable. People around him get hurt and he hurts himself in the process. He would be foolish to think otherwise.

But then there’s you. You are a kind-hearted breath of fresh air. You are good with people. You seem like the kind of person who could never do something bad. You’re an Angel. You’re the complete opposite of him, and opposites attract. It’s a treacherous feeling and it’s dangerous, but he can’t help it. 

A minute it took for you to make him smile. If that is not a record that piques his interest, he’s not sure what is. Not that he would admit his reason for going back to be your smile or the lovely note you have left on his coffee cup. He likes to think it’s the toffee nut latte and the ambiance, but deep down, even Michael knows that is not the reason he is truly smiling. 

Coffee has become his new favorite drink and he knows exactly where to get his fix. 

Tagging: @bellaxgiornata @loveroftoomanyfandoms @acharliecoxedfan @lina-mar @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella

[rubyreduji]

eat your young | the before pt. 2

tags: minor angst, fluff (maybe?), hunger games!au, gn!reader warnings: mentions of death and corrupt government wc: 6.4k an: jihoon and yn being obsessed with each other but not wanting to admit to anyone, even themselves ♡

m.list

First day of training and Jihoon would be lying if he said he hasn’t been shitting himself all morning. He could barely sleep last night worrying about today and also replaying his conversation with you over and over again in his head. Can he even call it a conversation?

“You okay Hoonie?” Soonyoung whispers to him during breakfast. “It’s okay, training can be scary but just lay low and work on your survival skills.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jihoon mutters. He tries to listen to what Soonyoung is saying but he gets distracted by you walking into the room. You don’t spare a glance at Jihoon or Soonyoung as you sit down and start to eat.

Soonyoung stops talking at your appearance and if you notice, you don’t say anything. It only takes a couple more minutes for Jennie to swoop into the room and usher you and Jihoon towards the elevator. “First impressions are everything, so you cannot be late.”

The elevator brings you down to the basement where a few other tributes have already arrived. Jihoon’s eyes scan the room. It’s huge with an array of different stations and simulations. There’s a wall with several weapons on the wall, some that Jihoon can’t even identify.

The tribute trainer enters the room and gives a rundown of everything to the tributes before setting everyone free. In the blink of an eye, you’re out of Jihoon’s sight line. He tries to look around the room for you but fails to find you.

Jihoon shakes his head. He shouldn’t be worrying about you. He glances at each of the stations before deciding to start with fire making. In theory it should be simple, right?

The problem is that it isn’t simple. Jihoon has been sitting here for at least an hour trying to get it right and he can’t and he’s pretty sure the careers have already noticed and are making fun of him.

“You need to go faster, and you need better kindling.” Jihoon jumps at the voice and looks up to see another boy hovering over him. He’s got a long nose and a distinctive freckle on his left cheek. “Hi! I’m Seokmin, District 10.”

“Uh, Jihoon. District 7.”

“I know! Sorry that sounds weird, I just recognize you from the reaping.”

“Do you…want something?” Jihoon knows he’s probably coming off rudely, but he’s so confused right now.

“Well, I was thinking we could be allies! You seem the most approachable and you’re small which could come in handy.” This guy…wants to be allies? He hasn’t even seen Jihoon’s skills. Well, that’s a lie, he’s seen Jihoon struggle to make a fire for an hour. So what does he want with Jihoon?

It wouldn’t hurt to have someone on his side though. Even if they do end up double crossing him, it’s not like he was going to survive anyway and Seokmin seems nice enough. Soonyoung would like him. “Yeah, okay, allies,” Jihoon says and a grin spreads across Seokmin’s face.

“So, Jihoon. What skills do you bring to the arena.”

Jihoon is about to tell Seokmin that he unfortunately doesn’t have any when he hears yelling.

“Watch where you’re going, dumbass!”

“Watch where I’m going? You’re the fucking idiot who ran into me!”

Unfortunately, Jihoon knows that voice. He springs up, leaving Seokmin behind, to run to the center of the room where you’re squaring up with a scary looking boy. Jihoon thinks he recognizes him as one of the careers. What are you doing?

“Oh, you are so dead!” The boy lunges at you and you look ready to swing on him, but before he can reach you a trainer jumps in between you two.

“Hey! No altercations before getting into the arena. Break it up you two or I’ll have you both suspended for the rest of the day.”

The boy huffs and you roll your eyes, an annoyed look on your face, before walking away. The interaction reminds Jihoon of similar run-ins he’s seen you have with peacekeepers.

From what Jihoon knows, you’re not usually an ill-tempered person, but when someone gets you worked up you get worked up. That personality comes out a lot around authority, or just general people who think they’re better than you.

“Jihoon?” Jihoon turns around to see Seokmin staring at him.

“Sorry, that was just-”

“Your district partner. Y/N, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you two close?”

“Not really, but we know each other,” Jihoon answers. “As for my skills, I’m gonna be honest I don’t have many. I was hoping to use the next three days to get that sorted out.”

“Hmm, well, are there any weapons that you might want to try out?”

Are there? Jihoon’s eyes look over at the armory wall. For a moment his eyes land on the axe. Everyone at home knows how to use one, how hard can it be?

It only takes one more second of thought for Jihoon to expel the idea from his mind. There will probably only be one axe put into the arena and he should leave it for you. He would probably just make a fool of himself using it anyway. Give everyone back home another reason to make fun of him.

He continues to look over the wall until his eyes land on a long, thin steel pole. A staff. If he can learn how to use it, it should prove to be helpful. Or maybe he should pick something blades? Something blade but staff like…a spear?

Jihoon walks over to the wall and finds a spear and grabs it. It doesn’t feel too awkward in his hands and he’s sure if he works on it for the next three days he can learn how to use it. Seokmin seems to approve of his choice as well and Jihoon moves over to one of the training dummies to try and start practicing.

It doesn’t take until after lunch that Jihoon can finally balance out the length of the spear to his own height and he’s even able to land a few blows onto the dummy. Jihoon’s just finish up a water break when he feels a presence behind him.

When he turns around, standing behind him are three careers, one of them being the one you fought with earlier. Jihoon cowers away from them.

“Scram pipsqueak, we want to use this area.”

If it was you in this position, you’d tell him to fuck off. What can he do? He can’t hurt you (yet). The issue is that Jihoon isn’t you, so he just scampers off. He should go back to the survival stations anyway. He’ll try the spear again tomorrow.

You feel unsatisfied as you ride in the elevator back up to the District 7 floor. The whole day you were itching to get your hands on the axe, but you know you couldn’t. Luckily you were able to brush up on some survival skills.

This gives you two more days to work on hand-to-hand combat, knife skills, and a few extra survival skills just in case.

“How was the first day of training?” Momo asks when you and Jihoon walk into the living room.

“I made an ally,” Jihoon announces. You’re a bit surprised by this. Not in a bad way just…Jihoon isn’t exactly someone who stands out compared to other tributes. “The kid from District 10, Seokmin.”

“That’s it Jihoonie!” Soonyoung cheers. Momo and Jooheon seem satisfied with this.

“And you?” Jooheon turns a watchful eye towards you.

“I just worked on survival stations. I’m gonna try and work with some knives tomorrow,” you tell him. He looks happy with this as well.

Dinner is served soon after and it’s nothing to note. The mentors make idle talk with the stylists, and you spend most of the time looking across the table at Jihoon. You’re still wondering what he was trying to ask you last night. You’re not sure why but ever since your names got called, you want to learn everything about the younger boy. Pick his brain apart and put it back together just in time for you both to be sent to your deaths.

Fortunately for you that occasion arises later while you’re sitting in the living room. You’re sitting on the couch, watching tapes from past games. Your knees are drawn up to your chest and you frown as you watch a boy on screen snap a girl’s neck.

“You didn’t tell them that you got into a fight with a career.” Okay, that is not the kind of conversation you were expecting.

“I didn’t think I had to,” you reply. “Nothing actually happened and it’s not like any sponsors saw or anything.”

“You’re putting a target on your back.” When you look at Jihoon there’s a frown on his face and you don’t know if it’s because he’s worried about you or because he’s unhappy with your actions

“There’s been a target on my back the second my name was pulled from the bowl. It doesn’t make a difference Jihoon.” There’s a solemn undertone to your voice and Jihoon doesn’t say anything else on the topic. Instead, he moves to the couch and sits down beside you.

“Doesn’t watching this stuff make you feel…uncomfortable? That’s gonna be us soon.”

You huff out a sigh. “Yeah I know, and it does, but what else am I supposed to do around here? I just thought maybe I could get more insight. See what worked did and didn’t work for others. It’s kind of driving me crazy though.”

“You’re already so well skilled Y/N-ah, I’m sure you have a chance at winning.”

“Aish, don’t say things like that,” you mutter.

“Why not? I’ve seen you use your axe before, it’s incredible what you can do with that thing.”

“That’s even if I can get to an axe,” you say, finally vocalizing one of your biggest worries. “What about you? You don’t think you can win?”

“I’m one of the smallest people here, even the fourteen year old is bigger than me. Not to mention I don’t have the skill level to survive. I can do as much as I can to train in the next three days but the hard truth is I won’t even last the first day.”

“Not with that attitude you aren’t.” It slips out of your mouth before you realize what you’re saying. It’s what you always tell your little sister when she’s bitching at you about something and you want her to stop acting like it’s the end of the world. Only, this kind of is the end of the world for Jihoon. Jihoon just lets out a soft chuckle.

“You’re very interesting L/N Y/N.”

“I’m the interesting one?” You’re amazed that Jihoon, the Lee Jihoon, thinks you’re interesting.

“Of course. Your reputation proceeds you, you know.”

“I have a reputation?” You laugh a little. “What about you and your reputation? You’re the songbird of District 7.”

Calling Jihoon a songbird may be a low blow but you hope he doesn’t take it like that. It was a nickname given to him by some kids in school and it was generally used to make fun of him, but it never seemed to phase Jihoon. You actually think the nickname is kind of cute.

“Half the district thinks I’m nuts.”

“So what if they do? They’re still singing your songs everywhere they go.”

This seems to take Jihoon by surprise. “People…sing my songs?”

“Yeah. People are always humming your tunes while we’re working,” you tell Jihoon. You take a moment before adding on, “That’s not the only place people are singing your songs either.” You hope Jihoon knows what you mean, especially since he was the one who brought up your mother’s death yesterday to begin with.

“I…didn’t know that,” Jihoon whispers. “People really like my songs?”

“Yeah, at least the people in the poorer parts of the district. So who cares if people think you’re nuts for not being a lumberjack. There are thousands of lumberjacks of in the district, there’s only one you.”

Your words seem to touch Jihoon because when he looks at you there’s a softness in his eyes. The softness is gone too quickly for your liking though, as Jihoon’s expression morphs into a frown. “Song writing doesn’t get me very far in the arena though, does it?”

“Maybe not. Who knows, maybe you can serenade the sponsors for some water.” It makes you smile when you hear Jihoon laugh at this. An actual real laugh that doesn’t have a hint of sadness tinged in it.

“Y/N? Jihoon?” Jennie’s voice cuts through the moment and you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. “You two should be getting to bed soon, you have another big day of training tomorrow.”

You and Jihoon shoot each other a look before both getting up and heading to your own separate rooms, not wanting to make Jennie upset.

When you wake up the next morning you go through the same routine you did yesterday. Take a shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, go to training. Today you head right to the wall of weapons and grab the knife you were eyeing yesterday. A good knife can be handy for multiple things and though you’re hoping you’ll be able to rely on an axe for most of your time in the arena, it’s good to have a backup plan as well.

You’re an avid whittler but using a knife to carve wood is a lot different than using it in a combat setting. When you hold an axe you have the whole handle to grip onto and the shape of the blade is different than it is on a knife.

You practice swinging your arm around with the knife in your hand and it feels awkward, like you’re doing something wrong. You probably are, you just don’t know what.

You want your motions to be fluid so you can keep up your stamina and adrenaline. You want to handle the knife in a way that it can do damage to your opponent, but not yourself. Your grip needs to be comfortable but firm, so the knife doesn’t slip out of your hand or get forcibly taken from you.

It makes you frustrated that you can’t just pick up the skill. The axe is like an extension to your arm, it feels natural. You can’t remember a time when you had to learn how to use it, you just knew. With the knife however there’s too much to remember and think about and you can’t keep it all straight.

With a defeated sigh you decide to take a break from the knife, knowing you’re getting nowhere with it. You know that Jooheon told you to not pick up an axe until tomorrow during the Gamemaker’s assessment, but you just want to give it a couple swings to prove you’re not totally incompetent.

When your eyes scan over the armory wall you see the axe that was previously there is missing. You know it’s not Jihoon who’s using it, so who could it be?

You walk around the training center, looking into all of the dummy and simulation areas to see if you can catch a glimpse of whoever is using the axe. You finally find the culprit when you make it to one of the last simulation stations. The simulation isn’t even on but inside there’s a tall skinny boy with thick framed glasses holding the axe.

You observe as he turns the axe around in his hands, inspecting the whole thing like he’s going to find a secret message if he looks hard enough. He eventually grasps the handle firmly in his hands and stances himself up. He looks awkward and uncomfortable holding the axe and it makes you feel uncomfortable.

You snort as you watch the boy try (and fail) to swing the axe. “You’re doing that wrong.”

The boy jumps and drops the axe, the blade just barely missing his foot as it falls to the floor.

“I-I wasn’t trying to use it. I was just…examining it.”

“It’s a fucking axe, there’s nothing to examine.” The boy flushed with embarrassment at your harsh words. “I can teach you how to use it.”

“Why would you do that? Aren’t I competition?”

“To be honest you don’t seem that much of competition. You look like you could use the help.” The boy looks even more embarrassed and you start to feel bad.

“I’m better at…non-physical tasks.” You don’t say anything and the boy straightens up his back before continuing. “I’m Jeon Wonwoo, from District 3.”

“So you’re smart? Sounds like that could come in handy.”

“What are you insinuating?”

“And here I thought you said you were smart. I mean an allyship, Jeon Wonwoo from District 3. You’d be the brains, I’d be the brawn,” you explain.

“Oh, oh! I see now, yes, that would be nice.”

“Great,” you smile at Wonwoo, “I’m Y/N, by the way. District 7.” You walk over to him and pick the axe up from the group. “I know I told you that I could teach you how to use this, but if I’m being honest, I’d prefer that the axe be just a me thing.”

You start the simulation before walking further into the room. Holographic attackers appear and you dodge their attacks while you swing your axe around, hitting them as they come near you. The handle of this axe is a bit different than the wooden one you have at home, but it’s still an axe that you can maneuver around with ease.

The muscles in your arms are happy to be used the way they’ve been trained to and you keep going until the final hologram pops up. You rear your arms back before launching the axe through the air. It flies across the room until it lands right in the skull of the hologram. You’re a bit out of breath as the simulation powers down and you take a moment to catch your breath.

“Woah.”

You quickly whip around to see Wonwoo accompanied by a few other tributes, Jihoon included. The look on his face is unreadable. Standing behind the crowd you see the career you had your altercation with yesterday, Seungcheol, staring at you. You make eye contact with him for a second before looking away.

“That was so cool!” It’s one of the District 12 tributes talking to you. Chan you think? The youngest one of the bunch.

“Thanks, kid.” You weren’t trying to show off and you definitely weren’t trying to gain so much attention, but there’s no undoing it now. You walk away from the simulation, letting everyone stare. Wonwoo follows after you.

“Yeah, I’m definitely glad to have you as an ally.”

Gamemaker’s assessments are today and Jihoon honestly does not know what he’s going to do when he’s in there. He could try and do something with the spear, but he’s still a little iffy on it. He’s been improving his skills with it, but he’s still not great.

After your little axe show yesterday there have been whispers about you going around the tributes. Jihoon was perplexed when he saw you showing off. Were you doing it purpose? Or did people just happen to notice you when you were trying to fly under the radar? Were you sending a message to the careers? Jihoon keeps trying to think of reasons why you did it, but he knows he won’t know the truth unless he asks you.

He reminds himself of what you said the first night of training. How that no matter what you do you’ll still be a target just from the sheer nature of the games. Once again, you didn’t tell the mentors about what happened during training. Probably because Jooheon would be mad if he knew what you did, but then again Jihoon thinks that you wouldn’t care that much if Jooheon was mad at you.

“Your district partner is kinda scary,” Seokmin says to Jihoon while they sit at a camouflaging station. Jihoon knows that he should be working with the spear to prepare for later today, but his muscles are already sore from using it the past two days and he doesn’t want to overexert himself before getting into the arena.

“They’re a beast with an axe,” Jihoon says instead of truly addressing what Seokmin said.

“Do you not cut wood in District 7 as well?”

“No, I’m actually a songwriter.” Jihoon feels embarrassed to say it out loud. It’s already embarrassing enough back home but saying to someone who isn’t from his district seems even worse.

“Woah, I’ve never met a songwriter before! I like singing a lot, but I could never write my own songs. That’s so cool!” Jihoon thinks about how you said the lumberjacks sing his songs while cutting down trees. Maybe being Jihoon is less embarrassing than he thought.

“Yeah, me and my friend Beomju write music together. It’s not much compared to what some other people do, but it brings me joy.” Jihoon thinks about how even though he’s only been gone for four days, he still misses his parents and Beomju. He tries not to cry while thinking about them, but he knows that if he does end up crying, Seokmin won’t say anything about it.

Thankfully Seokmin can sense the mood of the conversation and changes the topic. “Do you know what you’re gonna do for your assessment?”

Jihoon sighs. “Maybe I’ll do something with the spear but I’m not sure. Honestly, I’ll be lucky to get even a one.”

“Hey, it won’t be that bad! At least you’re from District 7. I heard that once it gets down to the last few districts, nobody’s even paying attention anymore. What a waste.”

Right, Seokmin is from District 10. There will be five other people who go in for their assessment after Jihoon before Seokmin has a chance to go in for his. It’s unfortunate, especially for the District 12 boys who don’t seem to have any skills either. Just shows how unfair the games really are.

The assessments start after lunch and you and Jihoon sit in silence in the waiting room. Jihoon knows in theory he could just go and sit with Seokmin but he’s not sure they would have anything to say to each other either.

Jihoon saw you working on hand-to-hand combat with one of the trainers earlier. It seems like you’ve used your three days of training well. Jihoon’s not sure if he can say the same.

Little by little the numbers start to dwindle until the second person from District 6 is called. It isn’t until your name is called that you finally speak to Jihoon.

“Good luck.” That’s all you say before you’re up and gone. Jihoon doesn’t say it back. He’s not sure why; whether he didn’t have enough time to get the words out or maybe because you don’t need luck when you have talent.

Despite having ten minutes to show off your skill, you finish up early because Jihoon is being called in only six minutes after you are. Jihoon walks in and he feels small as the Gamemakers look down at him from where they sit on their balcony.

“I-I’m Lee Jihoon, from District 7.” Jihoon wants to kick himself for letting his voice break, but he can’t focus on that. Instead of he finds a spear and drags a dummy into the middle.

He starts to fight the dummy and he feels awkward as he does. He stabs at it a couple times before moving farther away and throwing the spear at it. He misses and Jihoon tries not to let it get to him. Still, what the fuck is wrong with him?

It seems after he misses his shot the Gamemakers have stopped watching and Jihoon doesn’t blame them. He just takes his exit and tries not to cry. He feels dejected as he makes his way back up to the District 7 floor. He just hopes Soonyoung isn’t disappointed in him.

“Jihoonie!” Soonyoung cheers when the elevator doors open and Jihoon steps out. “Aw, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing, just tired I guess.” Jihoon doesn’t have the heart to tell Soonyoung he probably got a one on his assessment.

“Well you can get all the rest tonight after the broadcast. Come on now, dinner is ready!” Jihoon allows Soonyoung to guide him into the dining room.

“I mean, they didn’t look pleased, but at least they didn’t look bored,” you’re saying as Jihoon and Soonyoung walk in.

“What happened?” Soonyoung asks as he takes his seat.

Jennie huffs. “Y/N decided to throw a fit in their assessment.”

“It wasn’t a fit, I just got annoyed at their attitudes so when I was done showing off my skills I…threw the axe into the rack of the other weapons…and it caused a louder noise than I was expecting. At least they were wide awake for Jihoon’s assessment!”

Yeah, Jihoon kind of wishes they weren’t. Maybe he could have saved himself some embarrassment.

The rest of the dinner Jennie keeps letting out little huffs in your direction and you keep rolling your eyes at her. It isn’t until the group settles down in the living room to watch the broadcasting of the scores that Jennie finally seems to have calmed herself.

The broadcast starts and on screen is the Hunger Games host himself, Boo Seungkwan. Seungkwan has been hosting the games for a couple years now, and he’s a fan favorite of the Capitol. He has a charming personality and dusty blue hair.

“I hate Boo Seungkwan,” Soonyoung growls from beside Jihoon. Right, Seungkwan was the host when Soonyoung was in his games two years ago. “The nerve of that guy sometimes.”

“Shhh, it’s starting.” Soonyoung looks offended at being shushed by Jennie, but he doesn’t say anymore.

The scores of the careers are predictable, anything ranging from an eight to a ten. The rest of the non-career scores also fall pretty similarly to previous years being in the six to eight range.

The room falls silent when the District 6 scores are finished being reported. The anticipation is killing Jihoon and he glances over at you to see you staring straight at ahead, awaiting your score.

“From District 7, first up we have L/N Y/N who has receive a score of…a nine!” The room erupts into cheers, but your expression doesn’t change from the slight scowl you’ve been sporting since the broadcast started.

“Congratulation Y/N-ah,” Minghao tells you. You give him a respectful nod, your eyes still boring into the screen.

“Next from District 7 Lee Jihoon who has been giving a score of…five.” The room doesn’t celebrate for Jihoon the way they did for you, but he’s still given polite regards.

Jihoon expected himself to be more upset about his score, but he’s pleasantly satisfied with his five. He’s not putting a large target on his back which means he can hopefully fly under the radar for longer than some of the other bigger threats.

At least he didn’t get a one.

You scored a nine. You can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing.

The careers already don’t like you, so it’s not like any more harm can be done. Your mentors seemed to be happy about the score too. Hopefully you’ll get some good sponsors out of it.

It’s Jihoon’s score that you’re more worried about. There’s pros and cons to scoring a five. It takes a bit of a target off of his back, but unless he does amazing during his interview, it will be difficult for him to get sponsors.

You’re mulling over scores and the logistics of how far Jihoon will be able to go in the games when you pass a room and hear the mentors talking. You don’t mean to eavesdrop, but sometimes you can’t help but let your curiosity get the better of you. Especially in a situation like this.

The voices are muffled and you move closer to the door to try and hear better. When you finally tune in you hear Momo’s voice, calm and serious when she speaks. "When it comes down to it, we have to pick the tribute who shows the most promise, and who the sponsors are willing to give to. I hate to say it, but from the looks of it, Jihoon isn't either of those people."

"No, no. You're just going to give up on him?" Soonyoung's voice is raw and desperate.

"That's not what I said-"

"But that's what you're insinuating! Fine, if you don't want to help Jihoon, I'll do it myself."

"Kwon." Jooheon's commanding voice makes Soonyoung stop ranting. "You know it's nothing against Jihoon. This job isn't for someone faint of heart and sometimes we have to make difficult decisions."

"Like choosing that my best friend dies? He can win, I know he can, you just have to give him a chance."

"If he shows the potential in the arena, we'll do what we can, but until he shows that he can win, we have to put our efforts into someone who has already shown their worth."

"Why can't you help him now?"

"And what about Y/N?" Momo speaks up again. "What about their best friend and their life? Nothing is fair in these games. We'll try to help them both as much as we can, but there's only so much we can do. You know this Soonyoung."

"I don't care about Y/N! They've already shown they can take care of themself. You need to help Jihoon."

"They can't both win. When it comes down to both of them, we'd have to choose one," Jooheon says.

"And you'd choose Y/N?"

"And we'd choose Y/N." It's Momo who answers the question, which surprises you a bit. You decide this is the moment to make your presence known, feeling you've already eavesdropped too much.

You open the door. Three sets of eyes turn to look at you and before any of them can talk, you open your mouth. "Jihoon should be the one to live."

"What?" It's Soonyoung who is the first to speak.

"Can you not fucking listen. I'm telling you to help Jihoon and not me."

"Why?"

"Why does it matter? I don't know why you're asking so many questions when I'm doing this for you Soonyoung." That shuts him up real quick. "I don't care what the rest of you have to say. If I come out of that arena and Jihoon doesn't, I'm not going to be nice about it." With that you leave the room again, hoping that they got the message.

"...Jihoon?" Jihoon looks up from where he's lying on his bed to see his best friend standing in his doorway. The older boy looks like he's about to cry.

"Soonie? Are you okay?"

Soonyoung moves over to Jihoon's bed and crawls in right next to him. "I'm a terrible person." This startles Jihoon a bit. What is he talking about? "This evening, the mentors were fighting about who they're going to be helping out the most in the arena. I said you. Momo and Jooheon both said Y/N."

"Oh." Jihoon doesn't know how to feel about that. He's not mad though, he knows that much. It's more like...morose.

"I told them that I want them to save you. That I'd let Y/N die to save you."

"Soonyoung..." Jihoon feels conflicted. He doesn't want the tradeoff to be you die so he can live, but he knows that's how it works. If it came down to it, would Jihoon be able to kill you? Does Jihoon want to live so badly he'd sacrifice all his morals to do so.

"Then Y/N came into the room," Soonyoung continues. "They heard everything. They told the mentors that we need to help you and that you need to be the one who wins."

You...want Jihoon to win? Why? It doesn't make since to Jihoon. Jihoon doesn't want to kill you, but would he give up his chance to win in turn for you? Jihoon isn't sure he would.

"Why would they do that?"

"They said it was for me, I don't know. Maybe they just heard me talking and felt bad, but Jihoon you don't get it." Soonyoung's voice gets tense as he starts to cry. "They heard me say I want them to die so you don't. Isn't that awful? What kind of person have I turned into?"

"You're not a bad person, Soonyoung," Jihoon tells his best friend. "You just love me a lot. The games are designed to break people, don't feel bad about having human emotions."

Soonyoung doesn't say anything else, but he continues to cry. Jihoon lets Soonyoung use his shoulder to bury his face in.

Something not a lot of people know is that Soonyoung used to be one of the kids you used to "train" for the Hunger Games with. He was one of the kids who were better at it, like you, and it's honestly probably one of the reasons why he even won his games. Jihoon was offered to join as well, but he turned them down. He didn't want to train because he thought it would manifest him being picked. Well, you trained too and now here you both are, and only one of you has the skills to survive. He should have been safe, rather than how sorry he is right now.

It should be you who lives. It should be you who the mentors are helping. But instead, you're the one who has offered your life in turn for his and what has he done? Nothing.

You said you did it for Soonyoung, but that can't be the only reason. You two aren't even close, and you're even less close to Jihoon. By all means, you should be taking the chance to live.

There's no way you can have some kind of death wish. You have friends and a family to get back to. From what Jihoon knows you actually live a fairly happy life. So why are you laying down your life for him?

Soonyoung eventually cries himself to sleep in Jihoon's bed and Jihoon quietly gets up and leaves the room. Just as he hoped he finds you sitting in the living room, staring out one of the large windows.

"Y/N-ah."

"Soonyoung talked to you." It's not a question. "What's done is done. Don't think I want anything from you because of it. I did it for my own reasons."

"Which are?"

"It just felt right. Soonyoung sounded so hurt at the idea of the other mentors helping me. I can make it in the arena by myself, at least for a while. Not that it would matter much if I did die."

Your words stun Jihoon a bit. "What are you talking about?"

"I work as a lumberjack, just like everyone else in District 7. If I win, I won't have to work and what do I do then? I don't have a hobby or anything important like that. You have your music, and it's good. It inspires people."

"You want me to win...so I can write music?"

"I want you to win so you can change the world with your music." You're not saying everything you want to. Jihoon can tell by looking at your eyes. You're trying to hint to him something bigger than just winning the games.

You want him to change the world with music? You want him to inspire people? Inspire people to...change the way things are done. Jihoon's eyes widen a bit when he finally gets it.

"Y/N..."

"I can't do it. I can't do what you do. But I know you can."

You think Jihoon could start a revolution.

"I-I can't do that," Jihoon says to you in a hushed whisper.

"You may not be able to, but you can inspire people who can. You know better than anyone else what music can do." When Jihoon doesn't respond you keep talking. "Let's become allies. I'll protect you in the arena, and that way the mentors can help us at the same time. When it comes time, I'll make myself sparse so you don't have to."

"I can't let you do that."

"Why not? I'd rather it be you than anyone else in that arena. Let me do this Jihoon, please." Your voice is sincere to the point you're almost begging. This means something to you. Something more than just a revolution or a need to do a good deed. Jihoon doesn't know what it is yet, but he's going to figure it out. He at least owes you that.

"Okay, but I cannot in good health just let you lay down your life for me. You need to fight for yourself as well, and in the event something does happen to me, you need to win."

You don't say anything, you don't even nod, but somehow Jihoon knows that you take his words to heart. "You're allied with the District 10 kid, yeah? Seokjin?"

"Seokmin," Jihoon corrects. "Yeah, he's taken a liking to me."

"Good. District 10 kids are underrated when it comes to the games, but they bring their own special kind of knowledge and skill." Jihoon wonders just how much you know about the games and just how more prepared you are than him.

"Do you have any allies?"

"Wonwoo, form District 3." District 3 is the technology district. Jihoon thinks he knows who you're talking about, the tall skinny kid with glasses and a timid personality. He must be smart though, for you to want him on your side.

"Anything else to note about the other tributes?"

You let out a small huff. “The careers.”

“Right…them.”

The career pack is larger this year, six of them with each tribute from Districts 1, 2, and 4 allying together. “They outnumber us, and even if they didn’t their fighting skills are more developed than ours. The best we can do is try to outrun them or outsmart them.”

“They don’t like you,” Jihoon states. “They’ll be out to get you.”

You snort. “I’m well aware. I guess we’ll just have to tread carefully. In the end, we can only do our best.”

Jihoon thinks about how he said those exact words to Soonyoung four days ago. He’ll do his best, and Soonyoung will do the rest. Jihoon just hopes his best will be enough.

taglist: @hotricewoozi @embrace-themagic @066hc @biromogeulworld @cinnamoroxie @hoeforcheol @milkyruins @famouspoetrydinosaur @bigtittycommitte @belladaises @candidupped @im-gemmy

join the eat your young taglist: here!

[runnning-outof-time]

The Events That Befall Us | Tommy Shelby x Reader - Chapter 8 of Zablife’s Story Share

Request: no - Chapter 8 of @zablife ‘s Story Share - find more of the story HERE.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Solomons!reader

Summary: Some time has passed, and (Y/N)'s time at the safe house she was sent to felt like it dragged on without Tommy by her side. Everything seems to be fine though...until it doesn't.

Warnings: threats made against a person

Word Count: 3052

A/N: I’m really excited to share this addition to the story with y’all … hopefully it makes sense and flows along with the rest. Also I hope it’s ok that I added a title to it, Lee … I wasn’t sure if one had been added before and couldn’t find it, so I thought one up. I wanted to give a shoutout to @flysafepapi whos notes helped me out immensely on planning this chapter out. I’ve babbled enough now…Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: Almost forgot to say that I’ll be handing this over to the lovely @there-goes-thefighter next!! I can’t wait to see where she takes it!!

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

———

"When will you come to get me?" (Y/N) asked, her fingers tapping against her chin as she looked out the window. The seaview from her second story bedroom was lovely to look at, but it wasn't the familiar plains of Warwickshire, and its presence made (Y/N) feel sadder with each passing day.

"I don't know yet," Tommy's voice came crackly through the receiver, a stark reminder that he still wasn't by her side.

(Y/N)'s heart sank as she heard his response. She didn't know how she did it just a mere months ago, but now being apart from Tommy felt like pure torture. The days were dragging, and the times - like this one - where Tommy was on the other end of the receiver were the only ones where she felt like she was alive. But this was the safest place for her to be...at least that was what everyone kept telling her.

"I miss you, Tommy," she said in a soft voice, the child-like nature of her words making her feel pathetic for saying them. But it was the truth.

"I know, love," his response made it seem evident that he held the same feelings that she did. It was just that he was trying to hold them back. Her being away again after he'd just gotten her back was killing him, but he knew that it was for the better. It wasn't safe for her to be with him right now...not until everything blew over. He let out a sigh and brought his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose before he spoke again: "I need to sort a few things out yet before it'll be safe here again."

"What things?" she asked him although she knew that it'd most likely be a dead end question.

"I can't say," his response proved her right, and it made her exhale a sigh.

"Whatever it is, Tommy..." she trailed off, swallowing thickly before continuing, "I just need you to stay safe."

He knew that he couldn't promise her his safety. That wasn't guaranteed in the line of work he found himself in. But he also couldn't have her across the country, worrying about him with nothing she could do to help her case. "I will," he told her, hoping that his voice didn't betray him. "I have to go, (Y/N). I will call later," he said then, his eyes focused on the clock that sat on the corner of his desk.

"Ok, Tommy," she agreed with him, though her heart hurt more now than before. Finishing the call was always the worst. It once again made her wonder how she was able to run off with no word to him on where she was going. Things were different then, she kept telling herself, and now she couldn't stand to be away from his side. Reuniting with him that for that one night reminded her of what she had with him. "I love you," she breathed then, her eyes on the sea once more.

"I love you," his words were raw, sincere, and it made her heart clench. If only she could see him; hold him, maybe things would be the slightest bit better.

The phone call ended there, and (Y/N) didn't miss the haunting fact that she was now truly alone, once again. Setting her chin on her hand that was propped up on the desk she was sitting at, she watched the sea as its waves rolled in and out. If only she could be the sea...moving about without a care; able to do what she wanted, to be with who she wanted. Things have changed now though, trouble was eminent, and she was doing everything she could to keep herself on the sidelines of it. Her days of meddling about were finished for now, whether she liked it or not. She'd have to let the men sort it out. Whether that was good or not, she did not know.

But if there was one thing she knew to be true, it was that being stuck in this bedroom; in this house for days on end without doing as much as walking its grounds was starting to eat her alive. She needed to do something, to get out. So she stood from the desk and grabbed a coat to ward off the chilliness she'd surely be met with outside. After slipping on her shoes, she walked down the steps and into the home's front room.

Mariam, the house's owner, was sitting on one of the chairs, and she smiled at (Y/N) once she noticed her. She was a sweet, older woman who was happy to grant (Y/N) asylum after her living arrangement with Alfie didn't prove to be working. It was agreed upon that there was a potential threat of her being found at her brother's residence, so she was relocated to this address, which was only known to Alfie, her uncle, Charles, and Tommy. (Y/N) couldn't deny that she liked having the other woman's company, but it didn't completely quell her longing for something familiar.

"What will you do today, Ms. Solomons?" Mariam asked, addressing (Y/N) by her maiden name so that suspicions didn't rise around the town. Alfie was known personally around Margate, but Tommy was not. The Shelby name surely preceded him though, so they didn't want to take any chances.

"I think I will go into town; to have a change in scenery," (Y/N) answered, finding her purse hanging by the door. "Is there anything I can get you from the market?" she asked as she turned to look at the woman in the chair.

"No," Mariam shook her head, "be safe out there. Enjoy your time."

"Thank you," (Y/N) said with a nod and a slight smile as she grabbed hold of the door handle. Mariam smiled at her as she then opened the door and exited the house. The air, as expected, was chilly, but (Y/N) smiled as it hit her face. It felt good to be out again, and now the possibilities of what to do were endless.

——

It sounded silly, but being out amongst others felt so foreign to (Y/N). She'd spent the past few weeks in the safe house, and the only person she really had to talk to was Mariam. Occasionally some other, older women would come over and spend time with Mariam, which (Y/N) also relished in, but usually her days were spent in solitude.

She wore a smile as she walked around the coastal town, taking in all of the sights and sounds that were surrounding her. A small shop eventually caught her eye. It was one of those catch-all typed shops that had many different sorts of things in it, from knick-knacks to food goods.

"Good afternoon!" the shop's owner greeted her from behind the register, "feel free to look around and let me know if you need help."

"Thank you," (Y/N) smiled at the man before she started to walk down the first aisle. She took her time, looking at all of the wares that were on display.

Nothing seemed to catch her eye until she found a knick-knack that made her smile. It was small in size, and was of two, cream-colored birds that were facing each other. The words 'love birds' were etched into each of the birds; one word on each bird. Looking at it reminded her of her and Tommy, and it was that warming thought that made her take it off of the shelf. Sure, it was corny, but she was hoping that similar thoughts would come to her every time she looked at it.

She continued down the aisles, looking closely at the other things that were on sale so that she wouldn't miss any potential good finds. She made her way through the store slowly, and eventually found herself at the cash register. In her hands was the bird knick-knack and also a porcelain mouse that was holding a pink flower in its hands. She thought that Mariam would like that, considering that she had many other, similar pieces placed around her home.

"Have you found everything you needed?" the same man that greeted her asked, a welcoming smile on his face.

"Yes," (Y/N) nodded as he began checking her out. She exited the store minutes later after thanking the shop's owner, and after looking both ways, she decided to continue to the right.

Something caught her eye before she began walking. A man, dressed in a navy blue, tailored suit and a matching fedora, was leaning up against the lamp post. (Y/N)'s eyes lingered on him for a moment, and she watched as he tried to avert his eyes the second he noticed her looking. Seeing him made (Y/N) furrow her eyebrows. He looked like he had a purpose, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it could be. Brushing his presence off, she turned to the right and began walking down the street. There was a bakery a few stores away, and she planned to get herself a snack before turning back to go home.

But something immediately seemed off. From the corner of her eye, she could see the fedora-wearing man walking parallel to her, a few steps behind on the sidewalk across the street. An uneasy feeling bubbled up inside of her. Who could he be? What could he want? The questions started bouncing around her mind. Half of her wanted to go over and ask him these questions outright. Realization struck her before she could though. He was probably just one of the men, the soldiers, that Alfie had hired on to make sure that she was protected no matter where she was.

The only thing that threw her off slightly was the way he was dressed...none of the soldiers she'd met in the past ever wore something as nice as the suit this man had on. Maybe he's just upped the ante she thought to herself before dismissing the thought and grabbing the handle of the bakery's door. This was her time to enjoy herself, and she wasn't going to let what was happening amidst her families crowd her mind.

——

Tommy nodded at the two men standing on either side of the closed doors as he walked up to them. Wordlessly, the men opened the door, both nodding back at Tommy before they allowed him to walk inside what looked like a boardroom. It was empty, save for one other man. A man that made Tommy's blood boil almost immediately.

"Shelby," the man greeted after taking the toothpick out of his mouth, "you've decided to meet me."

"Nothing's changed, Luca," Tommy's response was curt, letting the other man know that no advances had been made in the time that had passed since their previous dealings.

"But you've still decided to meet me," Luca pointed out, his eyebrows raised as he motioned for Tommy to sit down in the empty seat across from him. Tommy glanced down before he pulled the chair out and sat in it.

"I'm meeting you because of the letter you've sent," Tommy clarified, leaning back against the chair.

"So I've piqued your interest?"

"You don't need to bring (Y/N) into this," Tommy jumped right to the chase, his voice steely to show the seriousness of the matter.

"Why shouldn't I?" Luca countered, "doing so has gotten you to this room with me."

"No civilians, no children...we agreed upon that," Tommy pointed out, hoping that reminding the man sitting opposite of him would get that man to reconsider his strategy.

But it didn't. "Of which (Y/N) is neither, so tell me why I should leave her out of this," Luca asked for an explanation.

Tommy had one in a second, "because she's not who caused this. She has nothing to do with her uncle, or the things that he's into."

"And what are you willing to do?"

"Excuse me?" Tommy quirked an eyebrow.

"What are you willing to do to leave her out of this?" the Italian clarified, placing the toothpick back into his mouth, moving it around as he waited for the other man's response.

Tommy took a moment to respond, thinking about what was just said. "What do you want?" he decided to throw the question back onto the other man.

"Charles Solomons," Luca named the name, his focus zeroed in on Tommy, watching for the smallest moves or changes.

"And if I give him to you?"

"She's safe."

"If not?" Tommy countered then, cocking his head to the side slightly as he asked about the flip side of the deal that was being wagered.

"Then I tell my men to move in on (Y/N). She'll become a lesson," Luca didn't hesitate in laying out the consequences. Tommy narrowed his eyes at the man sitting across from him. "I know where she is, Shelby," Luca revealed the ace hid up his sleeve. Tommy's lips parted slightly at the admission even though he tried to hide the shock. "I know that she's waiting for you...that you don't know when you'll come to get her...that she misses you. Maybe you should've gone when you had the chance..." he trailed off, tutting at the man across from him.

Tommy didn't know what to say. He seemed to be stuck between a rock and a hard place, and although he wanted to believe that the other man was bluffing, he couldn't ignore the obvious details. Luca must've been listening in to their calls; he had to have known where she was.

A grin formed on Luca's face. He had Tommy right where he wanted him. He broke the silence as he stood from the chair: "bring me Solomons or she's gone, Shelby," he ordered, giving the man in front of him the ultimatum before he left the room without giving the chance for a rebuttal.

—

Later that night, Tommy got a phone call. He picked it up and felt his heart clench at the voice that came through the receiver. "Tommy, I...I think something bad's about to happen," (Y/N)'s words were filled with worry.

"What is it, love?" he asked her, even though he knew what might already say.

"There's men. They...they've been around town, and have been trailing me, and now they're outside the house," she paused, taking a steadying breath before continuing, "I thought they were your's; Alfie's, but I'm not sure anymore. They seem...different, foreign almost," she finished with another deep breath. Tommy clenched his hand together in a tight fist at the words his wife uttered. "Tommy, I..."

"(Y/N), shh," he cut her off, hating the way her voice was cracking now, "it's ok. It's going to be ok. We...we can't talk anymore, but I'm going to make this right, I..."

"You're going to stop calling me? Why?" she cut him off this time.

"The why doesn't matter. Just don't worry, eh?" he stressed.

"Now that you've said that, I'm going to worry," she pointed out. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked then.

Tommy let out a sigh and dropped his head into his hand. "This will get fixed. You just need to stay inside the house. Don't interfere, no matter what happens," he spoke seriously.

There was a pause on the other side of the line. (Y/N) thought over what he said. Her fight or flight instinct was itching to kick in, and she so wanted to choose the former of the options. But Tommy was just about begging her to go for the latter. After a few moments, she exhaled a sigh, "ok," she agreed with his directions.

"Good," Tommy spoke quickly once he heard her agreement, "good, (Y/N). I...I have to go now, love, ok? I'll make this right," he assured her again as he got ready to end the call.

"I love you, Tommy," she told him, trying to keep the worry from her words.

"I love you," he echoed the sentiment before saying his goodbye. (Y/N) followed suit with one of her own before the line went dead. She hung up the phone with a shaky breath before closing her eyes. Something was happening, and she had not a clue what it was. Now she had to put her trust completely in her husband and hope that that would be the right choice.

——

Tommy was up at first light, hooking his best horse up to the wooden vardo that he planned on taking on his journey. He worked with an urgency, hastily making sure that everything was squared away so that he could start out without much delay. He'd just climbed up on the front seat and took hold of the reins when he heard his name being called.

"Tommy?" it sounded like Johnny Dogs, and his voice was approaching quickly. "Tommy?" he called again as he appeared around the corner of the stable.

"Yeah?" Tommy asked, his eyes not leaving the ground.

"Where ya goin', Tom?" Johnny questioned, confusion in his voice.

"Margate, Johnny," Tommy decided to be honest, knowing that the man he was talking to wouldn't tell a soul.

"Margate? Why's that? And why by horse?" more questions were hurled in his direction.

"I need to get to (Y/N)," he answered, his eyes still averted, "I'm going off of the roads. There'll be men who meet me halfway, they'll drive with me to Margate," he detailed the plan.

"It'll be dangerous, Tom," Johnny pointed out, hesitance seeping into his voice.

"That's why I'm going alone," Tommy paused, clearing his throat before continuing, "I'm willing to take my chances to get to her."

He finally looked up then, and Johnny instantly knew that nothing he could say would change the other man's mind. Tommy was like a horse with blinders on now. He needed to get to (Y/N) before trouble did, and he was going to get there, even if it meant going through hell or high water.

(Y/N) was the only thing on his mind.

———

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @lora21 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety

MASTERLIST

[leajoyrambles]

So, this is a fandom blog… but this is important.

We’re all seeing a lot of coverage on the genocide in Palestine. I’d like to remind everyone that seeing, that knowing, is a good thing. This has been the reality for many people for a very long time, and it very easily could have faded from many people’s minds. Just another thing going wrong in the world, right? No.

It’s easy to feel hopeless. That’s because we care — because thinking about the tragedy and suffering faced by fellow human beings hurts us. Are you uncomfortable? Good. So am I. All of us should be uncomfortable, and that’s not a bad thing. The fact that we know shows that people cared enough to tell us, and the fact that we care means that more people will know.

And yeah, it’s impossible for any one of us to fix this. As individuals, we’re powerless to help. But as a collective? As people? As human beings who care? We can protest. We can donate. If that isn’t an option, we can spread awareness of these campaigns and protests. And believe it or not, that does do something.

Why? Because we connect. Because we create a web of information, awareness, and compassion.

And if you’re scared to do that? To get involved? To fight, knowing you’re fighting for something so much bigger than your corner of the world? I get it. Heck, I can’t blame you. I’m terrified to post this.

But here’s what we need to remember: Palestinians themselves? They’re not giving up. They’re campaigning. They’re evacuating. They’re surviving. In the face of something so seemingly insurmountable that we, in other countries, on other continents, are overwhelmed by it — they are still fighting to survive.

To any Palestinians reading this — you’re doing so well. Please remember that so many of us care about you, pray for you, hope for you. When you have victories, we feel joy. When you suffer and lose loved ones, we feel despair. Please never give up on your futures.

To anyone who, like me, feels trapped and able to do nothing but watch — go to @colorfulgladiatordelusion’s blog. Her name is Caroline. As of when I am making this post, she has a fundraising campaign on her pinned post. She also reblogged another campaign, as well as news about protests held in the US for the sake of Palestine.

You’ll see those of you scroll down on her blog without filtering for any tags. I don’t know about you, but seeing others’ dedication to this cause gives me hope. Seeing those reports of dedicated protest gives me so much hope. Protest does make a difference, even if it’s slow to come and hard to see sometimes.

She and another blog, @elegantkidpuppy , sent me asks pertaining to fundraising. Direct links to their campaigns are here and here.

Reblogging, reposting, or otherwise redirecting people to these blogs can help. If you are financially independent and have even a dollar to spare, no matter how infinitesimal it may seem, you can help. If you’re afraid of getting lost in the onslaught of people who need help? Choose one or two. Reblog their campaigns, donate from time to time, and know that you can’t save everyone. You can help someone, though.

To anyone nervous about scammers pretending to be Palestinians — I read through @colorfulgladiatordelusion’s blog because of this very concern. I want to support Palestinians, and if that means checking sources, I’ll check sources. @elegantkidpuppy is on the vetted fundraisers list — number 310. Her blog’s name is farrahh12(2003). She reblogged her posts from her (presumably) original blog, @farrahh2003.

To anyone who came to my blog from ao3 — this is a fandom blog, but this is important. Art is about life, and life is about art. The core of creativity is humanity. The source of passion is compassion. Art is a way to find meaning in every aspect of life, but we don’t need to search in order to see the meaning in caring. In helping.

Farrah’s fund

Caroline’s fund

Signing off,

-Lea

[moonlightsolo]

eddie the bloody handed III

summary: unfortunately, being stuck in the upside has some side effects. you'll try your best to fight the terrors, but will you be strong enough?

pairing: vampire!eddie x female reader

warnings: very graphic depictions of death, gore & blood, angst, kinda sad not gonna lie, major spoilers for vol. 2, main character getting hurt!!

note: sorry for this being so delayed. i’ve been so busy with my new job!! ily all so much. i hope you enjoy (this v long) ending!!! i'm also so sorry if i didn't tag you i have sooo many people asking and its hard to keep track.

the search for eddie munson continues in the hawkins that you were once apart of. the town that mirrors the world you’re in, but still the one you cannot return to.

being stuck in the upside down with eddie isn’t the worst thing to happen, other than the constant darkness and thunder.

having him with you has its perks- most importantly, you get to roam the upside down with him freely, without having to worry about the police, or even the military chasing after him.

but of course, that’s not without some complications. the issue being, reoccurring visions happening only to you.

ever since turning into this creature-like form, you’re been bound to eternal consciousness, so dreaming comes in different forms now.

it’s almost like a meditative state where a scene plays behind your eyes after relaxing, whether you’re standing up, or sitting down. these types of ‘dreams’ are the most peaceful. the other commonly occurring ones suddenly transport you into another realm.

one that’s filled with gruesome images of your family and friends perishing in the fires spreading across hawkins. other times, it replays the entire scene of you mourning over eddie’s dead body, but in a third person perspective.

whenever your mind decides to bring you back, every ounce of energy is drained from you. you’re supposed to be superhuman, but it seems as if you’ve found your own weakness.

or maybe, your weakness has finally caught up to you.

whenever you go into this trance, eddie sits by your side the whole time. he doesn’t bother you, or try to wake you up anymore. it’s been happening so frequently, he knows what does and doesn’t work by now.

every time is happens though, he’s just as worried as the one before. the way the white of your eyes flicker in your head reminds him of chrissy floating in his living room. thankfully, you never float, but you do twitch quite a lot.

you suck in a sharp breath, eyes blowing open as your body falls backward towards the ground.

“shit, baby. i got you.” eddie’s hand cradles your head before you could make contact with the dirt.

“oh my god. oh my god.” your hoarse voice mutters out as you blindly reach for your boyfriend. your hand grips his bicep, making him lean forward to pull your limp body into his lap.

“jesus, that was a long one. are you alright?” he breathes out as his hand gently caresses your head, smoothing your hair back.

“no, no. i saw- i saw you and- me… we were- we were dead, eddie…” you finally open your eyes to look up at him, tears already threatening to spill past your waterline. everything rushes back to you. eddie and you were simply taking a stroll together, then everything goes black.

“dead?” he questions, eyebrows furrowing, “as us? before we turned or how we are now?”

“how we are… now.” you breathe out, your hand reaches up to cup his face and make sure he’s real and not a vision.

“i’m here, baby. i’m right here.” he sighs, his eyes are full of worry as he stares down at you.

“i think we need to tell dustin.” he suggests with a cautious voice, making you shake your head vigorously.

“no way. no. i can’t have him open his mouth and tell everyone about my.. my problems.” you shudder in his arms, making him pull you even closer into his chest.

the thunder above your head cracks, the familiar flash of red lightning darts across the sky.

“i’ll make sure he doesn’t tell anyone, but we need his help. you need his help.”

silently, you begin weeping into his chest as you come to terms with telling dustin. having these involuntary visions take over you is physically and mentally draining. you can’t keep doing this forever.

“okay, fine.” your voice shakes with fear as you keep your face pressed into eddie’s metallica band tee. it slightly smells of clean laundry from when mike and nancy brought down some clothes for you both.

“whenever he comes by to drop us off food next, we’ll tell him.” you breathe out, nails slightly digging into the muscles of his back as if you’ll be pulled away from him.

“okay, my love. anything you want. i just want you to be better. i can’t stand seeing you like this.” he coos out softly to you, pressing a cool kiss to your forehead.

the two of you sit like that for a few more minutes, basking in the glory of having each other’s arms tangled between your bodies. eddie slightly adjusts you so his arms are securely wrapped around your waist.

using all his strength, he easily lifts you up with him and launches you both into the sky. his wings flap loudly behind him, bringing you both right below the crackling clouds.

on the ride back to the house, your eyes slowly drift shut. you’re left unable to fall asleep, hoping it be different from every other time you’ve attempted to drift off. instead, you let your body go fully limp in his arms. your jaw unclenches from its gritted-state, and your tense shoulders drop away from your ears. you pay attention to the sound of wind whooshing past your face, how the cold air bites at your skin.

in the back of eddie’s mind, he has a gut wrenching feeling that vecna is still alive and is weakening your mind to get inside of it.

he begs to whatever god is up there that this feeling isn’t true, that you’re not being brainwashed by the king of the upside down.

eddie spots your shared home, descending down to the front door step. he swoops you into his arms, bridal-style and carry’s you into the living room to lay you down on the couch.

your hooded red eyes flutter open to look up at him, giving him a soft smile. “thank you for taking care of me, eds.” you whisper.

your words make a grin curl up on his face, “of course. anything for you, my princess.” his hand slightly pushes your hair out of your face, before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“i’m gonna go find a gate for dustin to come through, then i’ll be back, okay? just stay here and rest.” he pats your cheek with his fingers, grinning down at you cheekily.

“hurry back.” you mumble, slightly pouting at the fact you can’t go with him.

“i will. don’t you worry.” he leans down once more to kiss your lips, before pulling away and walking out the front door.

you watch through the front window as he takes off into the sky, disappearing past the frame and out of sight.

with a loud sigh, you turn onto your side to face the back of the couch. your fingers trace the fabric, going over each neatly stitched line with your nail.

something in your chest tugs painfully, making you gasp for air. your eyes close briefly, just for a moment, before they reopen to be met with a entire new environment around you.

everything is crimson. the sky, the dampened floor beneath your feet, and even the fog that seeps out of the depths of the unearthly dimension.

your eyes dart around to examine your new surroundings, noticing floating fixtures in the sky. mostly pieces of splintered wood, grandfather clocks wrapped in slimy tentacles, and pieces of colored glass.

large inky stalagmites stand high from the ground, surrounding the area in a formation that grows more dense as you walk forward. a substance seems to have created a film over the entire area, creating a sticky sound as your feet pick up pace.

“eddie?!” you scream out, voice echoing. terror runs through your veins once you stop walking, but the sound of footsteps continue.

your head whips around, spinning your body at all angles to find out where it’s coming from. “who’s that?.. who’s here?” you scream out, tears threatening to spill from your waterline.

you attempt to fly upwards to escape, but your wings refuse to extend from behind you. your head peeks past your shoulders to look at them, eyes widening in horror at the sight. the skin is ripped between each quadrant of your wings, making you unable to take flight.

“why did you do this to me?!” you screech out, fists clenched by your sides. you bend down so your chest is against your knees, but you don’t dare to sit down fully on the wet ground. your hands go over your ears, eyes closing as you let out a sob.

“do not cry, my dear child.” a deep menacing voice booms from every direction, making your eyes slowly open to look around.

“what…?” you breathe out in shock, blinking out tears.

“there is no reason to be afraid. you’re safe here.”

“who are you?” you whimper out, bottom lip quivering.

“who am i?” the voice almost laughs as if you should know, “i am you. we are one. you’re mine, my weapon.”

“your weapon?” you question out loud to the booming voice.

“that will become known to you later.”

you go to speak again, but the ominous voice cuts you off once more.

“don’t ask questions, child. just know you will be used for a greater purpose.”

and just like that, you’re sucked back into reality. you gasp for breath that you’ve lost, feeling as if you’re suffocating, which is impossible.

your eyes dart around the living room, seeing that you’re still alone on the couch, and eddie hasn’t returned yet.

is the voice you heard, vecna? the only person who would know what he sounds like are either dead, or not in the same dimension as you.

your legs kick off the couch to stand, taking a few powerful steps before your legs give out completely underneath you.

your body topples downwards, slamming against the grimy wood floor. you grunt as you rise to your hands and knees, lifting your head up to look at the front door. it seems so close, yet so far away.

slowly, you crawl forward. you can feel your bones straining under the pressure of your muscles, crackling with every movement.

just as you’re about to stand up, the door flies open. eddie is standing behind it with dustin, both of their eyes fall down to stare at you on the floor.

half of the boys face is covered by a bandana, but you can it’s him by the curly hair.

it takes eddie a moment to realize what is going on, before his brain clicks and he rushes towards you, “oh baby. why did you get up? you need to rest.” his arms lift you up by your armpits, helping you stand to your feet carefully.

“is she okay?” dustin’s voice sounds from behind eddie’s back, a little hesitant to walk inside.

munson grunts as he wobbles with you back over to the couch, sitting you down on it. you slightly wince in pain as you lean back against the plush fabric, letting your head fall back against it.

“no, she’s not. she-.” eddie is cut off by dustin walking toward you, “what’s that?” he asks, his eyes squinting as he points to your neck.

eddie bends down slightly to get a better look, “huh. i don’t know. i don’t have that.”

“what is it?” you refuse to move, completely freezing every movement coming from your body.

“your skin… right under your shirt.” eddie’s cool fingers hook around the neckline of your top, tugging it down over your collarbone.

dustin hisses at the sight, “goddamn."

black has infiltrated your icy white veins, turning them a gray color under your skin. it slowly creeps beneath your shirt, directly towards your heart. the black branches throughout your vessels, barely noticeable under the thin fabric of your top, other than a gray hue that creeps past your collar.

“what the hell is it?!” you demand them to tell you with blown worry-filled eyes.

“baby… your veins. they’re turning… black?” eddie’s eyes travel up your extended neck to watch your reaction.

your face screws up in confusion, hand slowly raising to touch the spot eddie was looking at it. “it feels normal, it doesn’t hurt?”

“i don’t know what it is.” eddie shoots a worried glance at dustin, who shares the same look.

“will… he had- uh, something like that when the mindflayer possessed him.”

your head flies up to direct your eyesight at dustin instead of the ceiling, “are you saying i’m possessed?”

“no, no. it just, looks similar.” dustin tries to play it off.

“don’t sugarcoat it, henderson. tell me.” your voice is bitter, blood-red eyes staring daggers into his.

“well, i’d say… it looks the exact same as his, but i mean, i don’t know! it could be some vampire cold or something…?” he chuckles awkwardly, standing up straight to back away from you slightly.

“vampire cold, really?” you scoff, “that doesn’t explain the-the visions. the horrible, terrible, realistic hallucinations i’ve been having.”

dustin worriedly glances at eddie once more before looking back at you, “visions? hallucinations?”

“yes, dustin. didn’t you just hear me?“ you bite back frustratingly.

“i heard you. loud and clear.” he mumbles with a sassy roll of his eyes, “max told us… before everything happened. that she was having visions. before, ya know, vecna almost got her for the first time.”

as dustin explains what max’s symptoms were, a deafening ring starts in your ears. whether it’s because of pure shock, or the mention of your death possibly being much closer than you’ve imagined.

the high-pitched sound drowns out every sound as you blink, and attempt to swallow. your throat is terribly dry, so you let out a hoarse cough. your eyes blink slowly as you stand to your feet, pushing past eddie and dustin.

you can barely hear them protesting to what you’re doing. eddie’s hand grabs at yours but you swiftly pull it away.

you take a deep breath, getting a whiff of fresh metallic blood pumping through dustin’s veins. your head snaps toward him, but you’re suddenly distracted by the plastic bag in his hands.

the ringing in your ears instantly halts, “the food?”

dustin looks at eddie, a bit of a fearful look in his eye. eddie gestures with his head, “hand it over before you become dinner.” a little mischievous smirk pulls up on his mouth, making dustin shudder.

the boys arm darts out from his side nervously, giving you the bag with a trembling hand. you shoot him a grateful smile as you take it, opening the bag to be met with the most scrumptious smell ever.

your hand reaches inside to grip a jiggly bag full of fluid. your fingers grip the pouch to pull it out, mouth salivating at the sight of the blood. “where did you get this?” you hiss out softly, licking your lips.

“el… she uh- took it from the hospital when we visited max...” dustin voice quivers, eyes watching you carefully.

you bring the bag to your lips, letting your fangs puncture the plastic surface. the warm liquid floods your mouth, causing you to let out a soft groan as you savor the delectable taste.

eddie can’t help but stare at you in awe, before looking down at dustin who is intensely watching you. “alright, buddy. let’s get you back home.” eddie pats his back and leads him to the front door.

as you suck the blood bag dry, you can’t help but feel an overwhelming amount of guilt. something you’ve never felt as you feasted on blood.

your chest constricts with anxiety, dread settling deep in your belly. your throat closes up, making you choke on the blood you’re swallowing. you sputter on the liquid, causing it to spray out of your mouth and splatter over your face.

“fuck-“ you cough and squeeze your eyes shut even tighter as your throat burns. your hands grip your throat as you struggle with the pain searing the inside of your throat.

your eyes fly open, looking straight into the milky eyes of a monster. instinctively, you attempt to get yourself as far away from it as possible, but seems that you can’t move.

the pain radiates from your neck and travels up to your eyes, feeling as if they will pop out of your skull at any given moment.

“hm, strange girl. look at you.” his familiar gravelly voice slithers past his lips.

vecna’s long, branch-like fingers are wrapped around your neck, hovering you above the floor. he turns you from side to side to examine you, the look in his eyes sends shivers down your spine.

“you’re weak. you should not be telling them about the gifts i have given you. i’ve been trying to strengthen you!” he shouts the last sentence, his grip tightening on your neck. you can feel your skin crackling under the pressure.

“please.” your voice whispers, blinking out tears that are flooding your waterline.

“do not beg. i have given you everything! things i did not know were possible. things i did not know even i were capable of!” his voice booms in your face, causing you to wince.

“the man with you should not have lived, but my winged creatures gave him another chance. he is taking it for granted.”

the sound of eddie being mentioned made your eyes widen even more if it was possible, “no, don’t hurt him. i’ll do anything! just don’t hurt him…” your voice croaks out, more tears spill down your cheeks.

“anything for this boy?” he chuckles, a menacing smile pulls up on his skinned cheeks.

“anything.” your strained voice squeaks out, feeling as if your esophagus is collapsing at this very moment.

the grip around your throat is loosened, his hand drops down to his side. once your feet touch the ground, you stumble backwards into the wall behind you. your hands grasp at your throat, carefully touching the sore skin there to make sure your head is still attached to your shoulders.

before you could fully recover, your body is slammed against the wall by an unseen force holding you in place. you whimper as you struggle, attempting to fight against the power.

“let go.” his voice rumbles inside of your head, making your eyes blow in shock. the pressure inside your skull grows heavier, making you cry out from the pain. he continues his assault on your brain, using every ounce of his powers to infiltrate it.

the monster lets out a soft grunt, just before everything goes black. it feels as if you’re swimming in your own mind, floating in the bliss of your thoughts and memories. the pure vast nothingness is almost calming, and cathartic.

consciousness hits you like a freight train, sucking back into reality with a frenzy of screams falling from your lips. your limbs kick and hit anything that’s around you, attempting to protect your physical form by any means.

“baby, baby, baby!” eddie’s voice calls out, his hands wrap around your wrists to pin them down. your eyes fly open, pupils shrinking to slits. you involuntarily lunge at his face with a hiss, baring your sharp fangs angrily.

“woah, woah. it’s okay.” his voice is soft and comforting, his legs are on either side of your hips to hold you in place.

your brain scrambles to think of why you’re so angry with him and why you feel this deep burning of fury in your chest. nothing pops up, nothing.

“eddie.” your voice whispers out desperately for him, “i’m so sorry. i don’t know what’s wrong with me.” you sniffle, and whimper under your breath. you squeeze your eyes shut, turning your head to the side.

one of his hands let go of your wrist to turn your face towards him, “nothings wrong with you. it’s okay.” his voice is reassuring, but it doesn’t sound like he believes his own words.

eddie looks over your neck, seeing the black has spread throughout your empty veins. it’s making its way up to your face, branching across your jawbone. he completely pulls back from you, eyes going wide as he watches your face contort as if you’re holding yourself back from doing something.

a deep evil cackles falls from your lips, one that doesn’t sound like you. “babe…” he trails off, standing up to his feet and taking a few steps back.

“don’t run away from us.” your voice is raspy, as a sickening smile curls on your lips.

the sentence sends a shiver down his spine, making him gulp and freeze in his spot. “us?” he questions.

you sit straight up, bottom lip toying with the point of your fangs as you grin.

eddie watches as your face grimaces as if you’re in pain, before the stomach-turning cheshire cat grin forms on your face again. you’re in there somewhere.

“baby. be strong. don’t let it take over.” he attempts to call out to you, making your face screw up in pain once again.

the smile flickers off your face, and you hide yourself behind the palms of your hands, “it hurts. i can’t.” your weak voice mutters out, your shoulders shake as you weep. you need to get away from eddie before you do something you’ll regret.

swiftly, you rise to your feet and extend your wings to blow air directly at him. the force of it causes eddie to stumble back into the couch, falling over the side. you drop to your feet, watching him scramble for a moment before sprinting out the front door and into the sky.

eddie curses under his breath as his hair covers his eyes, trying his hardest to get back on his feet. he hears the door slam open, and the whooshing of your wings flying away. he rolls over onto the floor and springs up before running outside to look for you in the air. he screams out your name before taking off after you.

his eyes roam every corner of the demented hawkins, searching for you with dread in his chest. you haven’t left his side since you came down here to look for him when you were human. he can’t lose you again, he can’t.

an idea pops into his head, making him do a u-turn in the sky and fly back to the house. he bursts into your bedroom through the window, and lands in front of your desk. his hands scavenge for loose paper and a pen, making a mess of the already destroyed bedroom.

he finally finds both, letting out a little ‘aha!’ before scribbling down a note:

‘I need all of you. Now. Hurry the fuck up. -E.M.’

eddie folds the paper and slips it into his jean pocket, before, quite literally, flying down the steps and out the door. he bursts into the sky like a rocket ship, kicking up inter-dimensional dirt around him.

he flies to the exact spot where he knows there’s a gate that leads to the normal world. he hops in place, shaking out his hands nervously as he stares down into the hole of the slithering gate.

he thinks of you; of how you’re suffering, and how this moment will only cause him a momentary amount of pain, “fuck it.” he grips the paper in his pocket, before reaching his hand down into the gate.

searing pain instantly burns at his skin, making it bubble at the surface. he seethes through his teeth, turning his head away until he can feel fresh air on the other side. he flicks the paper into the gate before pulling his hand back out.

“mother fucking shit fuck!” he shouts and stomps his foot before looking down at his hand that’s obviously toasted.

eddie plops down on the ground, covering his wound with his shirt with another hiss. he drops his head to his knees and whines softly in pain, taking slow deep breaths to try and calm himself.

eddie waits for hours on end, rolling around in pain, and attempting to sleep but to no avail. a suctioning sound next to his head puffs out a piece of paper, sending the lightweight object fluttering downward to him. he watches as it casually soars through the air.

once it’s arms length away, he snatches it and opens it up to read the inside:

‘We’re coming. Get ready.’ reads someone’s scribbled handwriting below his note.

before he could even react, a large bag full of who knows what flies out of the gate and lands directly on his chest. “what… the… fuck!” he puffs out before shoving the heavy duffel bag off his chest and standing to his feet.

he glances at his hand for a moment, noticing that it’s already starting to heal. his attention is quickly taken away from himself as two hands reach through the portal to grip the sides and pull themselves through. he can tell just by the floppy hair, it’s steve harrington.

once the voluminous-haired man stands up tall and brushes off his knees, he turns to eddie. he slightly jumps at his presence before putting his hands on his hips to try and play it cool, “oh! hey man, didn’t expect to see you here.” he chuckles nervously.

he keeps his eyes on eddie before he bends down over the gate to grip the other hand extending through. he pulls through dustin, who is followed by eleven, robin, and will. next to come through is jonathan, and nancy.

“no sinclair?” eddie questions, making dustin’s head perk up.

“nah, he’s with max.” henderson mumbles quietly as he unzips the infamous bag to take out all the weapons they must’ve packed.

nancy grabs her shotgun, jonathan is handed a revolver, and steve is handed a bat with nails and screws sticking out of it, who then passes it on to dustin.

harrington grabs an axe from the inside, swinging it around before putting the sharp side over his shoulder. “everyone ready to beat an aliens ass?”

“he’s not an alien.” eleven states with no emotion in her voice, before walking away from the group, “follow me.”

steve’s eyes dart between everyone before shrugging and ultimately listens to her. the rest of the group follows her into the forest, leaving robin and eddie near the gate. “alright, i guess we should go.” eddie clears his throat and begins walking with her.

robin trails behind the group to walk with him, “so…. this whole vampire-bat-immortal thing? is it cool?”

“is it cool?” he chuckles, shaking his head, “it’s cooler when everyone around you isn’t human.” he says playfully with a grin.

“isn’t human? are you insinuating you want to eat all of us?” she says with a surprised tone to her voice.

“pretty much, yeah…” he laughs breathily, throwing his head back as he does so.

robin can’t help but cackle along with him, hitting his shoulder with her fist playfully.

nancy turns around to shush them with her index finger pressed tight to her lips.

“jeez, why’s she so uptight?” eddie grumbles and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly.

the group finally stumbles upon a clearing, stopping in their tracks as they look over the eeriness of the creel house. the red flashes in the sky, showing the silhouette of the mindflayer looming above.

it’s pointed head is thankful to faced away from them, but it’s standing guard of the house. “what the fuck.” eddie breathes out softly over the kids shoulders, making nancy turn around and stare him down like a disapproving mom.

“m’sorry.” he puts his hands up in surrender, before returning his attention back to the monster in the sky.

“heat. heat will hurt it.” will blurts out, his eyes don’t dare to leave it or even blink. eddie glances to the boy, who seems extremely frightened.

steve pulls something out of his backpack, and grabs a lighter that’s in his side pocket. “who’s ready to make a wildfire?”

“a wildfire? are you serious? you realize that we still have to go through the forest after we get her back?” dustin’s eyes are wide as he lectures steve.

“there’s a gate inside the house.” eleven interrupts the bickering, her features obviously screwed up in annoyance.

“so you guys didn’t conjure up a miraculous plan before you decided to come down here?” eddie laughs in disbelief, shaking his head.

everyone turns to him, before their eyes dart around to each other. “uh… no. i guess not.” steve gulps slightly then looks down at his shuffling feet.

“fuck it.” eddie grumbles, grabbing the liquor bottle from steve’s hands and snatching the lighter from the other, “on my cue. you run into the house.” eddie flashes a grin at steve and winks.

“wait!“ somebody calls out, but eddie has already launched himself into the air. he shields the lighter from the wind with one hand as he lights the fabric hanging out of the neck of the bottle.

it instantly catches, making his eyes blow up wide. he has a matter of seconds to throw this thing before the fire reaches the inside, “hey fucker!”

the mindflayer let’s out a blood-curdling roar that seems to make the trees tremble in fear.

eddie hovers in the air, feeling himself growing more uneasy as the monster closes in on him. he cranks his arm back, aiming the fireball in his hand directly at it’s face. he takes a deep breath before catapulting the bottle out of his grip.

eddie watches as the bottle spins in the air and makes direct contact with the monster. it lets out another roar as the fire burns, and falls into the trees below.

one of its long limbs comes up right beside eddie, the sound of wind is the only thing he can hear as it comes closer to his head.

“shit!” he dodges the flayers attempt to hit him. he flies back and forth and up and down, taking his attention off the monster for a moment. his eyes dart down to the ground, seeing that the group is making their way towards the entrance of the house.

he notices that the fire is starting to grow stronger beneath his feet, the heat prickles at his skin. the wavy refraction builds higher as he leads the monster farther into the fiery inferno of the forest.

the squeals of the slithering tentacles are ear-piercing as they burn up on the ground. the gigantic monster grows angrier by the second, roaring with each searingly painful stomp it takes towards him.

eddie ducks as he dodges another weak attack, “come on! is that all you got?” he hits his own chest as he shouts at it.

eddie takes off into the sky, going as high as he possibly could go. one of its twirling arms swiftly follows his tail, swiping at his feet at every chance it can get.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” eddie chants out, feeling his wings grow tired from the heavy amount of exertion. the monster let’s out another horrendously intense outcry, making eddie glance to see that it’s unable to follow him anymore.

he lets out a soft surprised laugh, his chest heaving as he watches it struggle in the fire blazing around it. it’s trapped.

eddie watches as the flames engulf its body until it’s no longer able to be seen. the arm that was chasing him disappears beneath the flames. he quickly makes a beeline towards the house, landing harshly on one of his knees on the front steps. he stands up straight before pushing through the door, eyes squinted into slits. he focuses in on the people carefully crawling past the slimy appendages covering the steps.

“i need a weapon.” he mutters to himself, completely ignoring the people on the steps as he looks around. he steps over the tentacles as he crosses into another room, instantly finding a large sword accompanied by a faux knight armor set.

eddie mentally debates if he should take the armor and use it, but he grabs the sword and heads back to the staircase. “let’s go. i need to get my girl back.” he jumps past all of them by flying over their heads and to the top of the staircase.

“are you guys ready?” steve asks the group, who all nod hesitantly.

eleven takes a step forward, “i think me and… him should go up first.” she gestures to eddie, who grins like an idiot.

“you can call me eddie.” he twirls the sword in his hand boisterously.

“okay… eddie. let’s go.” she starts walking with him in tow, climbing up the attic steps to vecna’s lair.

“eleven and the true monster of them all. you’re finally here. i’ve been waiting.” his raspy voice booms out.

eddie stops in his tracks when he sees vecna hanging from the ceiling by the same slimy arms they couldn’t step on. he looks down to the side, seeing a winged body slumped in the corner. it’s you.

he goes to take a step forward, but he’s stopped by the girl. “not yet.” she whispers.

“i see you’ve defeated the guard… what do you call it? the mind-flayer?” vecna almost chuckles at the sound of its nickname.

“you’re brave to come here, eleven. after i defeated you in battle and hurt your precious, little friend… max.” he hisses out her name like a poisonous snake.

“do not say her name!” eleven shouts at him through gritted teeth.

vecna’s arm twitches by his side, making eleven fortify her stance. “now?” eddie whispers to her, “now.” she confirms with a slight curt nod. he motions with his hand behind his back for steve, nancy and jonathan to make their way up.

robin holds onto another makeshift molotov, already lit on fire. she pushes through eleven and eddie, throwing the fiery liquor bottle at vecna.

eleven uses her powers to push the bottle faster through through air, giving vecna no time to react. the bottle hits him, his body instantly explodes into flames.

he drops to his feet, away from the screeching tentacles that were attached to him. a hoarse groan falling from his mouth as he stands up with the fire blazing at his skin, “you think some fire will stop me?” he lets out a menacing laugh as his hands gradually rise into the air from his sides.

simultaneously, your wings expand from your quivering back as you stand tall to your feet. the mirrored laugh that leaves your body doesn’t sound like your own voice. the raspy cackle echoes in the small room, making eddie slightly step in front of eleven.

“whatever happens… just don’t kill her, yeah?” he glances back at el, who’s eyes are staring you down.

before she could reply to him, your body turns around slowly to face them. the look in your eyes terrifies him to his core, you look so scared but your chilling smile shows otherwise. the white of your eyes are almost grey, and the red of your irises are brighter than usual.

the veins in your body are black under the surface of your skin, the dark color prominent as the inky substance flows through you.

a loud monstrous screech reverberates out from your mouth, making some of the people gasp in shock from the high-pitched noise.

your legs lift off from the ground as you charge towards eleven and eddie, “baby! don’t do this!” eddie ducks from your swinging attacks in the air, trying his hardest to not get caught by you.

eleven continues to fight off vecna, using her powers and shoving him back. steve attempts to help eddie, but catches the back of your hand and is slammed against the wall of the attic. his body slumps to the ground as he goes unconscious.

“steve!” dustin cries out as he runs up the steps, making your head turn towards the boy. eddie glances from his crouched position, watching how you lick your lips, your black tongue swipes against your canines.

“no! don’t!” eddie shouts at you, but your attention is already on henderson. your wings flap loudly in the air as your talons swipe at the top of the boys head, attempting to grab him.

a pained screech falls from your lips as your body is frozen in the air, being lifted up and away from the boy.

eleven let’s out a guttural scream as she holds vecna and you in place in unison. her whole body shakes from using her powers past the maximum limit. her outstretched arms swiftly flick to the ground, slamming vecna and you to the creaky floor.

eddie watches in horror as your body convulses on the ground, whines of pain falling from your lips. “stop! stop!” he shouts at eleven, making her attention shift for a moment. he drops his sword to the ground to run up to you, falling to his knees as he grabs your face.

nancy uses this opportunity to stomp up to vecna with her shotgun, jamming lead into him as she reloads the gun multiple times. he lets out a horrendous scream, using his powers to send her flying backwards into jonathan.

eddie looks around at his fallen friends, seeing dustin is crouched over a barely conscious steve, nancy and jonathan are hurled over in pain, and eleven is barely strong enough to keep fighting against vecna.

“baby, you need to wake up. please come back to me.” he begs as his fingers tap your cold cheeks.

you let out another whimper, before your eyes flash open. the way you stare into his eyes, making his chest ache. “i’m here, i’m here for you, baby. please! we need you. i need you.” he rambles out, his eyes dart around the room.

the ringing in your ears is indescribable, the pain that bolts up your spine makes you wish for death. “….eddie.” your voice wheezes out, blinking harshly as you fight the blackness attempting to overtake your vision once more.

“it hurts…” you whine as you continue to fight against vecna’s powers attempting to take over your mind and body.

“you got this. you’re such a strong woman.”

his voice gradually brings you back to reality as he praises and begs for you to come back.

“i love you so much. please, i can’t lose you again.”

your trembling hand reaches to eddie’s discarded sword, gripping the handle.

in a matter of seconds, you burst into the air, sending eddie onto his back. with a warrior like yell, your body lunges at vecna with the sword drawn back. the monster goes to lift his hand to stop you, but eleven is too quick. she holds his weakened body with her powers, giving you full reign to bring the sword down and slice right through his neck.

you gasp as you watch his head thump to the ground and roll against the wooden floor. the room suddenly goes silent, his body follows with a heavy landing.

“oh my god. he’s dead.” will blurts out as he looks down at the body.

a little shocked laugh leaves your mouth as you stumble back, hands gripping your abdomen.

your eyes glance over at eddie, seeing that his wings have fallen limp to the ground. you look behind yourself, seeing yours are also laying on the ground alongside vecna.

you notice quite a lot of blood covering the monsters extremely long nails on one of his hands.

you glance down at your abdomen, eyes going wide when you finally notice how soaked your clothes are. your hand peels away from the black fabric, lifting it to your face when you see red has transferred onto your palm. “guys… i'm bleeding?” you lift your head up to see everyone staring at you worriedly.

pain erupts from the area you begin to coddle, “oh no…” you whimper, stumbling back in shock. your shoe catches on a lifted plank, making you fall to the ground.

“y/n!” eddie calls out to you as he runs up to your body. when his face comes into your field of vision, you notice pink flushed in his cheeks and his red eyes are chocolatey like the ones you adore.

“eddie.. oh, your eyes.” you smile through your tears, bloody hand lifting to cup his cheek. you can feel yourself growing more and more tired by the minute; the gurgle settling in your chest makes it hard for you to breathe.

“we need to get her to a hospital!” he lifts his head up to look at the people around him as he screams.

when he looks back down at you, he cries out for help once again. you’ve gone limp, and your head has fallen to the side. he lifts your body up with steve, robin, and nancy as they all stumble to the gate downstairs in the dining room.

once they get you safely in the gate, they bring you to steve’s car parked outside. eddie continues to mutters little prayers to himself as he holds your head on his lap, continuing to check your pulse as your breathing grows even more raspy.

“hurry up!“ he screams to steve, who is already weaving through traffic. the last thing you remember is his hand gently caressing your face as he tells urges you to stay awake.

the metallic smell of blood fills his senses, which would usually cause him to go into a frenzy. but now, all he can do is mourn for his girlfriend laying in his lap.

-

two months later.

the sound of chirping bugs outside makes eddie slightly smile as he rolls over in the plush bed.

his arm gently slings around your waist, letting his fingers dance across your scars. “mornin’ missus munson.” his voice rumbles out as he presses a soft kiss to your neck. he savors the rhythmic beating of your healthy heart against his lips.

eddie takes a deep breath to inhale your scent, it’s almost addictive.

your eyes flutter open with a soft hum bubbling past your lips, “morning, mister munson.” your hand cards through his hair, letting your nails gently scratch his scalp.

he shudders against your body, before swatting your hand away. “don’t get me riled up right now, beautiful.” he chuckles, “we gotta get on the road.” he sighs as he pops up out of bed, his warmth leaving you makes you groan.

“i know, but what’s…. like thirty minutes going to do?”

“thirty minutes? wow, you think very highly of my stamina.” he chuckles as he steps up to the sink in the kitchen area to brush his teeth.

you sit up in bed, taking in the view of your shirtless boyfriend brushing his teeth in your shared camper.

“you’ve lasted thirty minutes before.” you scoff with a cheeky grin.

“i have?“ he almost laughs in disbelief but toothpaste dribbles out of his mouth and onto his bottom lip.

“yes, you have- but anyway!” you change the subject, “what are we doin’ today?” you kick your feet off the bed to wobble up to him.

you wrap your arms around his waist from behind, letting your head rest on his spine, between his shoulder blades.

“we’re in the great smoky mountains, baby! we can do anything!” he exclaims theatrically, leaning down to spit and rinse his mouth. he turns around in your hold so you’re pressed against the sink, “i think thirty minutes won’t hold us back too far.” he smirks as he dips down to catch your lips with his own, his tongue instantly slides against yours.

after going through the worst ups and downs in your life you could have ever imagined- you truly can’t believe you’ll be waking up and going to sleep next to this man for the rest of your mornings and nights.

-

tags: @eddiemunsonslovelife @eddieussy @kylee-munson-barnes @llmae @vanessasweetie @lillyof-thevalley @taylorjqy @oscarisaacwhore @bellajg21 @explosiongamora @sadbitchfangirl @skyfullofsong123 @e-van-halen @shadowluna25 @whatinthefreshhellisthis @vllowe @gh0stboombox @shamidreamer @4l1fersss @xsuvs @barnaclebeeshive @simpinformunson @gooblerstan @0temp-erance0 @subjecta13-thefangirl @slut-for-sevika @sleepyb1txh @maskedmistress @weluvveddie @maddiethebanished @cjzelaitis @basiclassy @fuggiamodaqui @ap2x @bellsarmos @stiles-argent24 @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @elainavmarie @arminsgfloll @demo-bats @prettysbliss @slut4edd1emunson @erensslut @bootlegmothman420 @uuinter-soldier @m00nlight101 @korekiyoss @sllimyelim02 @sanitysfallisamazing @tubble-wubble @blairsbooktime @authorlovers @powerfultenderness

[mysadcorner]

Batboys x Naive!Reader Headcanons

- Credit to the gifs owners - Requests open -

Edited due to specifics requested.

Tag list: @simligul

Masterlist Navigation

Jason Todd

• At first, Jason would misjudge your naiveness and childlike tendencies as just being your way of expressing yourself in a humorous way; however, once that naiveness causes you harm he begins to keep a very close eye on you. He’s almost disappointed that you allowed yourself to get into certain situations when you’re fully away of the type of people he especially fights to keep at bay.

• Your naivety doesn’t push Jason away from including you on missions though, as despite this he still knows that you can follow orders and be a part of the team when it’s required. Since you’re aware of everything he gets up to he tries to stop himself from making distance between himself from you, which hurts him just as much as it hurts you too. But because he knows you are efficient and can still follow through in times of need, this rarely happens and the risk of your naiveness being a cause of danger is less that what it originally may have been.

• Sometimes he does find you being young and naive quite refreshing, as it reminds him of a worry free childhood and it isn’t very often that he can find someone so at ease in life that they can be such a way. However, he does also understand that a rough childhood can have differing results on different people, so he’s always keeping an eye out in case of any trauma is causing you problems like it has for the rest of the family. Also, due to his own experiences he catches onto what may have happened in your past very quickly.

• In his best attempt to protect you, Jason tells you the names of everyone you should be staying away from, and areas you may live near by too. He knows that you’re smart enough to stay away from these places when you’re off duty, so he knows that he only needs to tell you once. Just because you can handle yourself well and are smart enough to get out of situations doesn’t mean he doesn’t worry - but that’s just his protective side coming through.

Damian Wayne

• Damian gets tired of you being naive quite often as he finds it as a form of incompetence in everyday life, but that’s only due to his stubbornness. However, he does recognise that during missions and in times of danger your naiveness seems to disappear - and the things that are important are really prioritised by you. This is something he values quite a lot.

• Damian starts to have someone keep an eye on you quite often as he thinks that since you’re young you still can’t quite look after yourself too well (even though his entire family were doing absolutely crazy things at your age). Because of this he does treat you like a child sometimes, but once he needs you for something important or during times that he’s had time to reflect on what the two of you have been through he treats you quite adult like in the moment.

• Damian begins to view you entirely separately from your own vigilante self, as the two different sides of you are completely different (but not in a bad way). It shows him that you can embrace the two aspects of yourself while keeping a perfect balance between the two. You’re able to enjoy the small things in life and trust people as well as someone who has suffered very little - but you also know how to deal with those who take advantage of others and purposefully try to hurt the vulnerable.

• Damian finds it hard to lie to you regardless of you’re naiveness, as despite him being very stoic and able to lie when he wants to you still know him to well and know how to figure people out just as well as the rest of the family. Because of this he finds it extremely difficult to make excuses about things he may be doing or places he’s been (especially if he’s been injured and doesn’t want to tell you about it - or tries to make you worry less if you have actually seen the injury).

[psychologeek]

my fav previous tags - undercut:

[ID for screen reader]

@oh-thegodshateme

#i think cap would still breath and blink out of habit BUT sometimes he will just stop doing either of them out of the blue

#billy got distracted and just forgot as people do except bc he doesnt need to do either he goes much longer than normal b4 he begins again

#it never fails to freak leaguers out the first few times they see it happen

#like a robot forgetting its supposed to be undercover as a human. v unsettling View post

 @drchai

#pokes Shazam with a stick

#Shazam: oww!

#‘how can that hurt you don’t have NERVES!’

#also you’re invulnerable? #Shazam: oh yeah I forgot

#I want to study him as a concept so much

#has he been colonized by bacteria like the rest of us?

#if you took a swab of his mouth would it just not grow anything?

#he clearly doesn’t have an immune system right? is he just invulnerable to bacteria and viruses

#like they can’t grow on him?  #does he have lungs?  #I feel like he would

#but like it’s just moving air for him #there’s no pulmonary artery or exchange of gases?

#wait does this mean Shazam can indefinitely hold his breath underwater?

#and like he can never use the I need to use the bathroom excuse right

#he’ll say that and Superman will be all ‘you don’t have any kidneys’ ‘Oh my gosh you don’t have any kidneys!’#I have so many questions and none of them make sense

 @penny-anna

#im into the 'captain marvel looks like everyone's dad' hc #imagine the cognitive dissonance of getting intense dad vibes from cap while also knowing he's like 12

  @robbed-ghost

#I like 2 believe Constantine and zatanna are his magical babysitters constantly keeping up with spells that will make him seem less uncanny

#Billy failed biology au #writing inspo #oh MAN the body horror fics I could write of this

#him looking like everyone’s dad and having maximum charisma but no one wants to date him is the best

 @ichbineinlesbisch

#a bunch of Actual Adults in the league: Shazam you kind of remind me of my dad :')

#Billy; A Child: uh

 @redrobin-detective

#yessss#love the dad thing#marvel looks like family in the weirdest way even if no features align#people will be like oh yeah he’s handsome#but like in the way your dad or brother looks good#people want to simp him but it feels wrong#the dichotomy of feeling warm and safe and like family while also toeing the edge of uncanny valley is great#like this dude is in no way a human person but he still reminds me of my younger brother

  @bilbosama

#dc comics#shazam#body horror#would some of this leak onto billy too#like you look at him and you see A Child#like he is very Child Shaped and there's something off about that but you're not sure what#nobody knows who or what billy/captain marvel is but they sure know billy/captain marvel

 @who-hasnt-died

#billy doent know anyhting about anatomy he dropped out in like 4th grade

 @notthewriteryourelookingfor

#wheres ur blood?#yes i have blood#but where is it?#.... have u met my tiger?

 @megamindsupremacy

#billy is just a Little Too Perfect#but not in an unnerving way like Superman sometimes is#he’s just Built Different (good)

  @foiblepnoteworthy

#billy w no organs be like: *gets poisoned and doesn't get affected until someone tells him hes been poisoned*#*at which point the effects become like way more severe than the poison would be*#billy: tocix gas! ahh!#*pauses to see how the others react before he does anything*

 @apollo18

#Superman has this very one person game that’s just called ‘what internal organs and bones does Capt Marvel have today?’

#he used his x ray vision and just like… watches cap’s organs float around like a lava lamp

#it’s morbidly facinating and he has no idea how to tell Marvel he knows he’s probably not human bc he likes watching his bones change shape

 @tryingahandinholdingapen

#pokes Shazam with a stick#Shazam: oww!#‘how can that hurt you don’t have NERVES!’#also you’re invulnerable?#Shazam: oh yeah I forgot#I want to study him as a concept so much#has he been colonized by bacteria like the rest of us?#if you took a swab of his mouth would it just not grow anything?#he clearly doesn’t have an immune system right? is he just invulnerable to bacteria and viruses#like they can’t grow on him?#does he have lungs?#I feel like he would#but like it’s just moving air for him#there’s no pulmonary artery or exchange of gases?#wait does this mean Shazam can indefinitely hold his breath underwater?#and like he can never use the I need to use the bathroom excuse right#he’ll say that and Superman will be all ‘you don’t have any kidneys’ ‘Oh my gosh you don’t have any kidneys!’#I have so many questions and none of them make sense View post

 @gatorinator

#the league thinks he’s using foreign alien terms cuz this guy clearly isn’t from earth he doesn’t know how to pay taxes#Superman: ‘this villains gonna be a tough one’#Shazam: ‘No cap?’#superman: . . .#batman knows Shazam is a child bc his kids speak exactly the same.

@interests-with-no-outlets

#clark: also why are you missing so many bones????#you only have like 50 excluding your spinal column. how are you walking??#shazam: am.... am i supposed to have more#clark: YES YOUR HANDS LOOK LIKE SQUARES WITH NEEDLES AND YOUR FEET ARE WORSE#BONES DONT DO THAT SHAZAM#shazam:..... oh

 @stackthedeck

#when you're a child your idea of an adult is your dad#and when you're a child your idea of your dad is a ken doll#like yes your father had to at some point but no he didn't#a 12 year old's idea of an adult is a ken doll#wait shazam is literally a kid playing superheroes 

Jumping on the ‘Slightly-off’ Shazam/Captain Marvel bandwagon.

- Captain Marvel never really breathes nor blinks, due to the Stamina of atlas.

- DNA? Shazam’s never heard of him.

- His skin is always room temperature, and feels like touching marble.

- It’s hard to describe his appearance, but people usually say Shazam reminds them of their father -Despite them often having no features in common.

- Looks too perfect. No blemishes on his skin, no scars, not even a hair out of place.

- Supposedly has a talking tiger?

- Based on appearance, at least one of the Leaguers would have a crush on him -but no one does? They can’t really explain it, but wanting to have a relationship with him is just wrong.

[gavin-plz-call-me]

The Brothers + Dateables & Luke react to MC owning a cat named lucifer

A/N- To attempt to avoid confusion, the demon Lucifer’s name will always be capitalized, while the cat lucifer’s name will never be capitalized.

~

“Now,” Diavolo said, obviously nearing the end of his speech, “Do you have any more questions, MC?”

You nod, “Is my cat up there all by himself?” you ask, “I don’t want him to get lonely, and without me he wont have anyone to feed him.”

The men, no, the demons in front of you stared, all obviously dumbstruck. You had been ripped out of your home, brought to a strange place, and told you were to live here for a year, and your first thought was of your cat? What a strange human you were.

“We can arrange someone to take care of your cat,” Diavolo said, smiling wide, but your face fell at his words. Diavolo seemed to sense your discontent as he spoke again, “Or we can arrange for your cat to be brought here?”

“Yes, please,” you spoke almost immediately.

Diavolo called for a demon named Barbatos, telling him to go to the human world to retrieve your cat. He disappeared then reappeared in a matter of seconds, your cat laying comfortably in his arms.

“Oh, lucifer,” You cooed, taking your cat away from Barbatos, kissing the cat’s forehead.

The hall went silent once again, before someone, the demon they introduced as Asmodeus, spoke up, “Honey, that’s Barbatos.” He said, a slight chuckle laced within the words.

Confused, you glance back up at the hall of demons, you point to your cat, “No? His name is lucifer.”

Lucifer

Can't decide if he's confused or insulted.

He's confused because, who the hell would someone name a cat of all things after a demon

and he's insulted because WHO THE HELL WOULD NAME A CAT AFTER HIM?

He's one of the strongest Demons in the Devildom, much stronger than a mere housecat, the insinuation that he, Lucifer, avatar of pride, shares anything in common with a cat has him fuming.

Of course, he shows none of these emotions outwardly, keeping his face stoic as always.

And any one of his brothers who dare joke about this cat's name will be hanged from the ceiling in a matter of seconds.

Is fairly annoyed with their shared name in day-to-day life, and not just because it's insulting.

But, many times a day, Lucifer'll hear his name called through the halls and, when he goes to investigate, one of his brothers is cooing over the damned pun intended cat.

Will eventually get used to lucifer and will definitely be seen cuddling with him.

Is like the dad who insists he doesn't want a cat, but as soon as he gets one they're inseparable.

At the end of the day, he loves that damn cat.

Mammon

Laughs out loud at the revelation that the cat's name is lucifer.

Until he realizes now he has to look after the human and the cat.

Will complain about it in typical Mammon fashion, but he warms up to lucifer about as quickly as he warms up to you.

Buys him a bunch of cat toys when he has the grimm, and loves to play with him

especially with a laser pointer.

Also loves to cuddle, but always acts very tsundere about it.

"What is it lucifer? Oh, of course, you want to cuddle with the Great Mammon."

Will either steal lucifer from your room at night, or sleep in your room to cuddle with him and totally not you, of course, but you should be honored he's even sleeping in your room.

Leviathan

Thinks it's hilarious as well.

Though he prefers anime, Levi is well versed in other human media, especially classic Disney films, so, because of Cinderella, he's well aware that lucifer is a popular cat name in the human realm.

That doesn't make it any less funny, though.

WILL NOT allow lucifer into his room.

He has too many expensive figurines to risk it

Plus, he doesn't want to risk Henry 2.0 getting hurt.

Will only play with, pet, or cuddle with lucifer if he initiates it.

"He probably doesn't want to be pet by a gross otaku like me," as if cats know what otakus are.

Will, at some point, sew lucifer a costume that looks suspiciously like what his older brother tends to wear.

He may or may not have been hanged for that one, but it was totally worth it.

Satan

Like Lucifer, Satan is conflicted.

On one hand, cat! He loves cats, he wants to pet this cat all day, and give him kisses and cuddles and love.

On the other hand, Satan would rather his soul be ripped apart than give love to something named after Lucifer.

Will try his hardest to completely ignore the cat's existence.

Has to leave the room if lucifer comes in because he can't trust himself to not pet him.

Is like this with lucifer until he sees him respond to the name luci as well.

After that, you cannot separate Satan from lucifer even if you tried.

Spoils him rotten.

The two are often found reading together in the library, Satan leisurely petting lucifer.

Fights with Mammon at least once a day for lucifer and always wins.

Goes on long rants about how cat lucifer is much better in every way than demon Lucifer.

Asmodeus

Another one who thinks it's hilarious.

Definitely thinks lucifer is cute but hates all the shedding, so he usually keeps his distance.

Like Levi, Asmo doesn't allow lucifer in his room.

Will constantly complain about fur getting all over his clothes.

Has had to buy more lint rollers in the first year you spent in the Devildom than he had bought in the last century.

Constantly posts pictures of lucifer on his Devilgram because, despite being a furry monster, he is just the cutest little kitten around.

Beelzebub

Thinks the name is a bit weird but accepts it pretty quickly.

It's just a name, after all, lots of people who are very different share names.

lucifer's food has to be hidden from Beel because he can, and will, eat it.

"It just smelled so good, and I was so hungry."

Apologizes by buying him some luxury cat treats that took all of Bee's willpower not to eat on the way home.

At first, he won't interact with lucifer unless lucifer approaches him.

Beel is so big, and lucifer is so small, he doesn't want to crush the little cat.

But with enough time and reinforcement, Beel will pick lucifer up himself for some much-needed cuddles.

Before Belphie comes down from the attic, Beel'll bring lucifer up to their room at night when he's feeling a bit more lonely than usual.

Beel will invite you up to his room as well.

Belphegor

Finds out about lucifer after everyone else, due to the whole, being locked in the attic, thing.

Hears Asmo trying to coax lucifer into a good pose from down the hall.

"Oh lucifer, cutie pie, you gotta look at the camera."

Is surprised that Asmo is still alive talking to Lucifer like that.

Is even more surprised when he turns the corner to find Asmo talking to a cat, not his eldest brother.

Thinks it's hilarious, but Lucifer is already over it so teasing him about it doesn't do much.

Won't actively seek out lucifer's attention, but will gladly nap with him.

Beel continues his habit of bringing lucifer up to their room for cuddles when Belphie returns, so the three of them usually end up in a big cuddle pile.

Bonus points if he brings you up too.

Diavolo

Thinks it's very amusing.

Laughs about it, probably for a bit too long.

He can't help it, especially because he knows Lucifer is most definitely a bit upset about it.

Will tease Lucifer once or twice about it, but will ultimately leave it alone.

When he visits the House of Lamentation, he'll give lucifer a nice pat, hello, but won't go very far beyond that.

Barbatos

Read lucifer's name tag while he was collecting him from the human realm.

Wasn't surprised in the slightest because nothing ever surprises him

Is definitely excited to see everyone's reactions to his name, and is not disappointed.

If given the chance, he will spend hours brushing lucifer's fur and pampering him

but doesn't get the chance to do so often, if ever.

Solomon

Has had a cat named lucifer in the past.

I mean, he's lived hundreds of years, it's not out of the realm of possibilities.

Named his own cat lucifer because he thought it was funny, and the humor hasn't faded since.

So he's very amused by this new lucifer in his life.

Will unabashedly cuddle and play with lucifer whenever he's given the chance.

I mean, this lucifer reminds him of his own cat, so he becomes pretty attached pretty quickly.

Whenever he visits the House of Lamentation, he'll hold lucifer until the very last minute he possibly can, and will be pretty sad when he has to leave.

Will joke about stealing lucifer, may actually try to steal him.

Simeon

Like Levi, Simeon is pretty well versed in human media, so the concept of cats named lucifer isn't new to him.

Still finds it a bit funny nonetheless.

Tells Michael right away.

Likes cats well enough, and, when he's in the House of Lamentation, will seek out a few pets from the kitten

but he doesn't venture to the House of Lamentation too often, so he never grows too close to lucifer.

Luke

WHY? WOULD YOU NAME A CAT? AFTER A DEMON?

There are so many better names for a cat!

Like whiskers, or oreo, or simba.

Is genuinely confused, and maybe even a bit concerned.

He's afraid you were consorting with demons before coming to the Devildom and that's why you named him lucifer.

After his brief stay in the House of Lamentation, Luke is absolutely in love with lucifer.

Plays with him constantly.

Wants to pick him up, but doesn't know how to.

Luke will end up getting scratched eventually, but Luke forgives him.

Bakes lucifer special cat treats and hopes you'll let him feed lucifer one.

[delu-jean]

𝐈𝐬 𝐇𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞? (𝐏𝐭 𝟐)

(Akaashi x fem!/reader) -> Angst/Fluff? -> 3.2k 

Synopsis: Akaashi is strolling through Tokyo, and on that day, meets a boy who looks all too familiar. One whose eyes remind him of you. 

Part One: Is He Mine? 

Part Three: Is Her Mine? (Part. 3) 

Notes: Part two as promised! Maybe I’ll make a part three (haha >:)). Be sure to comment if you would liked to be tagged for the next part, and reblogs are always appreciated. 

-> Also, for those tagged in this post, I’ll tag you in the next as well ^^ 

“Y/n...please tell me.” 

“T-tell you what?” you asked nervously, as he felt just the same. Inhaling his breath, hoping he could keep calm. 

“Is...is he mine?” 

---

“Is he who’s?” 

“Mine Y/n...is he mine?” 

You stared at the gentleman. Though his question was reasonable (?), that was the first thing he was going to ask you?...after all of those years?...years of torment, resentment, and whatever else. Maybe you were overreacting, but yet again, you were a woman who stood by her morals. And that being the case, your instincts had said your reaction was as reasonable as his question. 

Some part of you wanted to snap. To holler at Akaashi for asking such a ridiculous question, yet the other part...was scared. You felt anxious when thinking of a proper answer. Was Ryu his?.... If taken out of context, he could’ve been asking if Ryu belonged to him, and of course he didn’t. Ryu wasn’t an object that could be owned by merely anyone. He was his own person, and that being the case, wasn’t something that could’ve been held down. Yet even though you could’ve interpreted it that way, you knew what Akaashi really meant. Yet you didn’t exactly have an answer. 

“Ryu?” 

“Yeah...” 

Akaashi seemed suspicious. He could tell you were hiding something, and even though very obvious, he didn’t want to assume. Hoping that you would confirm things so that you both could talk it out. Yet here you were, not giving him a response. He was confused to say the least, shouldn’t the answer have been easy? Ryu looked exactly like him, and plus, him not having a father was another takeaway. Using those facts should’ve given him enough confirmation. 

But then again, maybe the answer wasn’t as easy as it should’ve been. What if Ryu wasn’t his?...what if Akaashi had made an assumption out of impulse, because of a lingering feeling he had. One of which you sparked for him to feel. 

Maybe he was being delusional, and instead, was trying to make an excuse. An excuse to spend another minute, even a second with you there. Ryu was important to him as well. His or not, he respected that you had started a family, and was glad Ryu was a part of it. He adored Ryu, but he also admired you. Speaking of Ryu, the boy then clung onto you. He seemed confused about the interaction, and tried asking for clarification. 

“His? *GASP* Am I Akaashi’s brother!? Momma, you never told me!” he smiled happily, ecstatic at the news. 

“Eh-no dear, he’s not your brother,” you chuckled, for him to ask: 

“Then what did he mean? What did you mean, Akaashi?” you then stared at Akaashi. You knew he was smart enough to play things through, and even so, you still panicked the slightest bit. 

“I was wondering if you would be mine for the night, along with your mother. We could go grab dinner, or ice cream even,” you looked at him in shock as his eyes seemed determined. Needing an answer, and willing to get it in whatever scenario possible. 

“But what about Kuroo?” 

“Oh my, I forgot about that,” you then glanced at your watch. 

“Kuroo?...but how-oh….” Akaashi then thought about how you and Kuroo were very close friends. So close that sometimes, he would even find you hanging out with Kuroo, over himself. Though it wasn’t because you liked him (in that way), rather, you were both very good friends. Akaashi let it be since you both had mutual trust, and Kuroo was someone he was also friends with. Besides, Akaashi also respected your personal life with others, and so did you for him. 

They still talked till this day, and not once had Kuroo mentioned you having a child. But to be fair, Kuroo never mentioned you. That being because both you and Akaashi had broken up, and it would’ve been an uncomfortable topic. Still, Akaashi found it strange. If Kuroo knew, wouldn’t Bokuto have as well?...meaning that Akaashi would’ve known by now? His thoughts continued to trail as you looked at him in disbelief. 

You did have plans with Kuroo, but then, you also had a couple hours until he’d come around. Even so, you didn’t want to spend that time with Akaashi. He was one of the last people you needed to talk to. The grudge which still stood in your heart, clenched with each second he stood there. The anger which he had gifted you, was something that was eager to return. As you had thought this, you then stared at your son. He seemed thrilled to be with such a man, as he gripped onto Akaashi’s hand in excitement, saying: 

“Yay! We get to eat together!” 

“We’re going to have so much fun!” 

“Let’s try some bubble waffles!” 

You then remembered that even if you had felt that, your son instead felt joy being with Akaashi. And that being the case, you didn’t have the right to take that happiness away. After all, Ryu was not yours either. He wasn’t someone you could drag away from events, just because you had conflicts with a person. Though there were times where doing so was appropriate, was now really such an event?...not even you could answer that. But even though you couldn’t, his smile which brightened the mood, had answered for you. 

“Okay buddy, slow down. Fine, we can go with brother...Akaashi. We’ll meet Kuroo sometime later, just let me text him.” 

“Okay mom! Akaashi, Up!” you then eyed the boy, for him to insist regardless. 

“Please mom! He’s so tall, and I can see everything-” 

“Ryu no-”

“Sure, what not?” Akaashi then grabbed the boy, placed him on his shoulders, and secured his legs with his hands. You then sighed. If Akaashi had agreed, what could you do? You then texted Kuroo, grabbing your bag firmly as Akaashi spoke: 

“I know a place where we could grab ramen. If not, we could instead-”

“No, ramen is fine,” you said in a stoic tone. 

“Okay...then let’s get going.” 

---

The walk to the outdoor stand was awkward. Well...for you and Akaashi at least. The last time you two spoke, was the day he broke things off. He never reached out to you during that time, and now...here you both were. Expected to have a lengthy conversation, and to enjoy yourselves. Key word, “expected.” Though it would’ve been nice if you both could have talked care free, it wasn’t going to happen. That event occurred when both parties have mutually moved on. From Akaashi’s perspective, he still had lingering thoughts, yet kept them to the side. Going on with his life as he expected you did yours. Though he thought you had moved on, you had thought differently for different reasons. 

Even though you both had your differences, Ryu was there. Entertaining the both of you separately. He complimented you one second, and played with Akaashi the next. You had never seen Akaashi so enthusiastic with a child before. Though he wasn’t going all crazy, and acting like a kid himself, he was being a lot more open. Talking back and forth with Ryu, giving nice remarks, and also rewarding him...with that beautiful smile he bestowed. 

Even so, you tried to ignore it. Remembering that this entire ordeal was for Ryu, and not for your observations. 

“We’re here. What do you want Ryu?” 

“Hm, could I get the one with Tonkatsu? I’ve been craving it all day!” 

“Haha, sure buddy. And...you, Y/n?” 

“I’m not hungry, you guys go ahead,” Akaashi then sighed, obviously not believing you. 

“We’ll get two Tonkatsu ramens, along with Fukuoka ramen.” 

“Sure, that’ll be $18.35 please.” 

“Debit-”

“Um...I can pay for both Ryu and I,” you said, as you tried scrambling for your wallet. Akaashi then tapped the machine, placing his hand on your own (the hand in your purse). 

“It’s fine. Afterall, I already paid,” you shook your head, but let it go as Ryu pointed to a table. 

“Come on! Let’s sit!” 

---

“Akaashiii~!”

“What is Ryu?”

“How do you know mommy? Mommy would never talk to a stranger, so that means you both know each other.” 

“Oh...well, um,” Ryu was truly a bright child. One who caught on a little too quickly. He really did remind you of his father. Quick witted, yet wise with his tongue. Being certain to use specific words or sentences, to ensure/secure his curiosities. 

“Well...mommy and Akaashi were very good friends,” you replied. 

“Ahhh. So if that’s the case, why have I never met him before?” 

“Well you see-” 

“It’s because I live further away from you guys,” Akaashi answered. 

“But so does Kuroo,” Akaashi then pondered, and placed his hands together. 

“Hm, I guess you’re right. Well, maybe your mother has an answer,” the two black haired boys, then stared at you. Both were awaiting for an answer, and yet both had different intentions. One wondering out of pure curiosity, while the other...was waiting for an explanation. One which could clear up any, if not every misconception. 

“Well sweetie, sometimes good friends have to part ways. Everyone has their reasons, but most of the time…” you then looked at Akaashi. 

“It’s because it’s for the better,” his gaze was locked onto yours. The stare was unreadable. It didn’t feel tense, yet it was. Was it cold, hurtful?...you wouldn’t have known. But what you did know was that Akaashi was good, too good at hiding his thoughts. So good that when together, he would let things slip without reaction. Sometimes that was a great thing...and others...not so much. 

“Why would it be a good thing? You both were best friends!” you then placed a hand on his head, patting it gently. 

“Well...friends have to grow up. That doesn’t mean you can’t see them again, but, what it does mean is that you’ll have some time...alone. And that time...is used for you to grow.” 

“Ahh, I see mom! Is that why we don’t see Kuroo often?”

“Haha, no sweetie. That’s actually because we live further away. If Kuroo lived in our city-” 

“He would be living with us, right?” 

“Hm...I guess so,” Akaashi then looked in the other direction. There was no tint of emotion, just...silence. 

“Akaashiiii, the ramen is here!” 

“Oh, is it Ryu?” 

“Yeah, it is!” your bowls were then slid over. Ryu stared at Akaashi’s hands, and at first, Akaashi wasn’t sure as to why. Ryu didn’t touch his food, and at first, he was worried that the boy didn’t like it, but then noticed he was holding a pair of scissors. Pointing them towards the gentleman. Though confused, he then caught onto Ryu’s gesture. 

“Dear I can-” before you could finish your sentence, Akaashi started to cut his noodles. Making them bit size for the boy. It seemed like second hand nature, yet something new to him. Though, you would’ve felt more comfortable doing it yourself, you weren’t complaining as the job was now done. 

“Thanks Akaashi!” 

“No problem Ryu. Now, let’s eat.” 

---

You all then finished your ramen. Though you had said you weren’t hungry, you couldn’t help but eat it. After all of those years, Tonkatsu ramen was still your favourite, and Akaashi still knew. He was glad that he remembered the littlest of details. Ones which may have been overlooked. Ones he made sure to be attentive to. Not only that, but he was glad Ryu had enjoyed the meal as well. He truly was your son as he had the same tastes as you. Akaashi found it quite cute, and found it even more adorable as he ran out of the restaurant, shouting: 

“Mom, Akaashi! I want to play at the park!” 

“Hm...it’s a little late buddy,” Akaashi said, for you to respond: 

“It should be fine. We’ll be over here watching Ryu. No funny business young man!” 

“Okay mommy!” the young boy then climbed the slide, as Akaashi sat on the bench. Patting on it, indicating that you sat beside him. And so...you did. Your legs together, hands as well, as your head looked down. He then sighed, asking: 

“Do you feel uncomfortable? I can move if-” 

“No...it’s fine. We’ll be leaving soon, so no need to worry.” 

“Is Kuroo picking you up?” you then nod as he did the same. 

“I see...so...how have you been?” 

“Oh...um...I’ve been okay. I’ve done better, but...yeah.” 

“Hm, I see,” you really didn’t want to be in this situation. Maybe for him, it seemed civil, but to you...it was awkward. Neither of you knew what to say, and neither did you try to hide it (successfully at least). Akaashi then twitteled with his thumbs. A rare sight you would see every once in a while. Akaashi was a well spoken person, and usually had something to say in a well mannered way. But when he didn’t, or didn’t know what to say, he would play with his thumbs. Hoping that something would spring to mind. 

“You must be having fun.” 

“Fun doing what?” he looked at you. 

“Playing with your thumbs,” you smirked, for him to put his hands away. 

“Not really.” 

“Hm...so...what have you been up to?” you asked, curious and yet not wanting to know. 

“Nothing much...just work and well, Bokuto and I still hang out from time to time.” 

“Ahh, really? I’m glad. You both were the bestest of friends.” 

“And still are,” he smiled, while watching Ryu climb the monkey bars. 

“Hm, you have a girlfriend yet?” he then paused for a moment, for him to answer:

“No...not yet. I haven’t found anyone interesting.” 

“Ah, that’s unfortunate.” 

Was it really?...you wouldn’t know how to think after today. If you hadn’t met Akaashi here...you would’ve thought otherwise. Glad that he hadn't found someone else, for his actions sickened you. Such a gentleman, yet someone so cruel. You would feel awful if he had grasped someone, just as tightly as he did to you. Sprinkling you with such intoxicating, yet graceful pleas, and yet he left you there to rot in such doing. Such a passionate man, yet that same person could find passion in such coldness. 

For the past years, you had found him to be utterly despicable. After that one event...you couldn’t help but think that. But even so, after seeing him with Ryu today...you couldn’t help but melt. The two were so sweet together, and even though you hated to admit, had a spectacular relationship within just hours. They really acted as the best of friends, and Akaashi seemed to enjoy it. Not only that...but his smile...it was one which was truly admirable. 

You then stared at Akaashi, while he watched Ryu. He really hadn’t changed. He was calm, quiet, and reserved. His posture was on parr with the rest of his body. His hair was styled more neatly, and actually, it had grown a bit, along with his height. His figure, a lot larger than what it was in university, and his cologne smelled of lavender, along with a hint of pepper. It was a strange combination, but it worked. He really had grown up to be even more attractive. And that being the case, it surprised you that he didn’t have a partner. Said attractiveness, along with the kindness of his nature...had drawn you in, and yet dragged you out. Leaving you in a confused, and undecided state of mind. 

He then took note of your stare, and grinned. Secretly glad that your attention had averted towards him, yet, he was trying to be subtle. You truly looked astonishing tonight. Even after a couple of years, you still looked the same. That same highschooler who he had fallen in love with, the one who had constantly supported both him, and Fukurodani. The only person who truly understood such a stoic man. That same girl he would forever hold a place in his heart for. Although, now you weren’t just a sweet girl, but now, a beautiful lady instead. 

Deep down, he would’ve wished for a space to open. Allowing such a lady to make way into his heart. Hoping said lady, would do the same. And maybe, just maybe...a prince could join you both as well. Making his thoughts come true in the utmost blessed way. 

He made sure you didn’t catch onto his stare, the one which he had latched onto you. His attempts were taken very seriously, as he didn’t want to make things too obvious. Unfortunately, you did catch him in the act, and turned away, embarrassed. 

“Hm,” he smirked, as you fished for your phone. 

Kuroo ᕙ(`▿´)ᕗ

-> ‘Are you still coming?’ 

-> ‘Of course. Sorry, traffic delays. I should be there in ten.’ 

-> ‘Okay...see you soon’ 

You were about to turn of your phone, to then see Kuroo text:

-> ‘Also...don’t worry too much. You can do this Y/n, good luck, and I’ll be there soon.’ 

You then smiled, and Akaashi took note, thinking: 

‘She’s probably talking to her…ah...’ he sighed at the thought, to then ask: 

“Are you talking to your husband?...you seem happy,” he smiled. Even though smiling was a happy gesture, he couldn’t help but make it the opposite. Making his grin, feel ever so agonizing. 

“Ah...well...that was Kuroo,” Akaashi then batted a brow, surprised to say the least. He’d only seen that look on you when you were vulnerable. Whether you were scared, or secretly happy. Regardless, that was only around him...not even Kuroo had seen such a stare. But now that he saw you in such a state, it made him question if you, and Kuroo were in a relationship. That being the reason why he never brought it up, and vice versa. 

“Oh...I see. So that means,” Akaashi then started to think. Yes, the younger child looked like him, but then, there was also resemblance between both Ryu, and Kuroo. They both had black hair, Ryu had a peckish, yet sweet smile (like Kuroo...minus the sweet-), and the bits of information fit logically. If you and Kuroo had Ryu, it would’ve made sense. 

Both childhood friends who had grown together, to then realize what they wanted after he...had left you. Starting a family, and being with each other?.... Ryu looked like he could’ve been Kuroo's, or anyone for that matter. But even if Akaashi would have liked to think that way, the connection was too uncanny to deny.

Even so, Akaashi was still suspicious. Wondering as to why Ryu would be so reluctant towards his father. Why he would call “Kuroo,” well…”Kuroo,” and just as to why you both lived so far away. Maybe you both had a situation?...but then again, wasn’t Kuroo on his way to pick you up? Akaashi was confused, and felt like he was over-thinking things. Maybe Ryu wasn’t his...and Akaashi was instead looking for something...that wasn’t there...nor his to compensate. 

“That means what?...” he then locked his eyes, with yours. Though he was someone who was hard to read, you could tell how desperate he was. His stare, piercing right at you, hoping he could get an answer. 

“Y/n...could you please tell me...if he’s...mine?” you then saw the sorrowful expression, which struck him. The guilt which seeped in, had dug even further. Not sure how to tell him, nor how to phrase things. Your hands clenched, inhaling slowed, as your body trembled. He seemed just as scared for your response, to then hear: 

“He’s-”

“He’s mine, Akaashi...Ryu is mine,” Kuroo said, for silence to then fill. 

For Those Who Wanted To Be Tagged/Reblogged/Wanted A Part Two! ^^ :

@bokutojuicyass; @realbugmom; @exactlygreatlove; @instantdinosaurhottub; @suchagoodgirlxoxo; @nomadicadventures; @greenhoodie-mark; @n5koma; @animclarinerd; @personalficarchive; @sabrinakishi; @amecchii; @daffodilpetals; @lerougestvelvet; @notamazinglizzy; @akaashimarryme5; @m00ndust2��

->Sorry to those who tags aren’t working qwq 

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

hello 🧸 i really enjoy reading your alice in borderland writings and just wanted to say that your writing is ✨immaculate✨ hope you keep up the good work!also, i wanted to request something where the reader is this badass/genius at the beach and niragi and chishiya can’t help but be attracted to her and so they try to pursue her both. but even though she acts tough on the outside she does like them back and the rest is up to you if that’s alright~

Thank you so much! That just made my day. 😊 And of course, here you go! 

Two Peculiar Admirers | Shuntaro Chishiya, Suguru Niragi

PART 1 | PART 2

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya, Niragi (Aguni, Kuina, OC)

Summary: You are a new member of The Beach with a harsh attitude and a strong personality. Chishiya and Niragi can’t help but be a little bit lovestruck.

Warnings: a lot of swearing, blood, stalking, violence, threatening

Word Count: 3.5k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: I planned to fit this all into one part but it got a bit too long and I still have more to write. I’m so sorry I left it at a cliffhanger but I promise I’ll upload Part 2 before you know it!

Gifs Credit

It had all begun when Aguni had brought you back to The Beach.

You were a particularly strong woman, both on the inside and the outside. You didn’t hesitate in games to do what needed to be done to survive. And best of all, you were on your own. He thought you would be a perfect little guinea pig to add to the pile back at The Beach to help collect cards.

Aguni had found you at a heart’s game, a game of betrayal. He noticed you at registration, believing that you would be killed off within the first few minutes. But he got a great surprise to see that you gave up other player’s lives without hesitation. At least you knew how to survive in the Borderlands, no friends, no one to betray.

He followed you for a while after the game, trying to find the right moment to grab you and place the black bag over your head. You noticed him following you a few times, so you kept your guard up.

But eventually, he used his strength against you and knocked you out with a few hits to the head. Not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you black out.

He didn’t want to take any chances. After seeing your strength and skills conveyed at the hearts game, he didn’t want to risk becoming injured or even killed by you.

After being brought back, Aguni spoke highly of you in the meeting room, causing Hatter to move you to a higher number than most. You were annoyed if anything, you were doing completely fine by yourself. Why did these people have to drag you into their selfish and chaotic dynamic?

You were rather cold-hearted towards everyone, being upset about becoming a part of all this mess. You felt like a soldier in a meaningless war. You didn’t want to put all your energy into your games just to let one person leave this hell. Everyone seemed blinded by it, didn’t they realize they were believing empty promises?

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

On one of your first nights at The Beach, you had been sitting at a booth nearby the pool by yourself. You enjoyed watching people acting like drunken idiots, it was entertaining to you. Sipping your drink and laughing at people getting pushed into the water had become one of your favourite pastimes, since there didn’t seem to be much else to do other than drink or dance.

This was when Niragi first approached you.

A sudden arm slung around your shoulders like a snake. You whipped your head around harshly, receiving a fright from the action. A young man with several silver piercings in his face had decided he had the audacity to make himself comfortable right next to you. Well, technically it felt like he was sitting right on top of you he was that close.

You furrowed your eyebrows roughly at him but didn’t move, just staring at him with a surprised look on your face.

“Hey sweetheart, you’re looking awfully lonely,” he began, leaning his face much closer to yours. “Why don’t you come with me? I’m sitting over there with a few of my friends. I would love it if you could join us.”

You could tell this guy had never been rejected before, his ego was so large it oozed off his words like a bad smell. You put a hand against his chest and pushed him away from you. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Look sorry… whatever your name is. You’re being real fucking annoying right now,” you said, being straight forward with him. Although you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t appreciate his confidence. But there was a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and this man seemed to be right in between the two.

He sat up and off you with a shocked look on his face. “Are you sure you want to be saying that to me?” he said in an annoyed tone. You watched as he cocked his pierced eyebrow upwards, being interested in how you would answer.

You gave a big sarcastic smile and giggled. “Yeah, you’re nothing special sweetheart. Thanks for ruining my peace and quiet.” You stood up out of your seat and his arm slid off your shoulder. He watched you in shock as you strutted away from the booth, making your way to the bar nearby. You didn’t want to argue with a man who just so obviously wanted to get into your pants. You weren’t going to give into anyone that easy.

Niragi let out a big breath and smirked as he checked you out from the booth. “Hopefully no one saw that.” He said to himself.

No girl had ever rejected him so harshly before. You didn’t know who he was? Did no one tell you?

Your harsh remark to his attempted flirting struck a chord within him. He felt his heartstrings pull tight in his chest. That attitude of yours really hit him.

I mean, who wouldn’t love to play a game of cat and mouse? Because the vibe you were giving off to Niragi gave him the idea that you would love to play a little chase game of emotions with him.

***********

Chishiya’s meeting with you would have been rather bizarre. He met you at a game because you were assigned to the same group as him for one night.

During the drive on the way there, you kept glancing your eyes over to the mysterious figure. He sat quietly in his seat, hood over his head and earbuds in his ears. He wore all white, reminding you of a ghost.

The game was a four of clubs. Pretty easy for someone like you, or so you thought.

It was held in an apartment block that reached twelve levels high. The aim of the game was to find the safe zone to disengage the bomb within the time limit and without being ‘tagged’ by the tagger.

During the first five minutes of the game, you tried your hardest to remain alone, but a young man who didn’t have any idea what he was doing followed you around from registration. He seemed to be a new player, so after a while you decided to tolerate him. He could be used as a shield from the tagger if worse came to worse.

As you made your way around the levels, checking every door and looking around every corner, you heard rapid gunshots every now and then. It made your heart drop every time you heard it just below you or just above you.

At some point you watched as you saw the tagger take aim at someone who was on a different level. You watched as the young man ducked down to avoid being killed, bullet holes shredding into the wall next to him in the process.

You frowned. Why did the tagger attack him so far away? Every victim has been on the same floor as him when he kills them.

Then it hit you: he was trying to protect the door that the young man was attempting to open. That must have been the safe space.

You and the new player that remained with you made your way down a few levels to the door that the tagger had been shooting to. There had to be something there, he wouldn’t aim from that far if he didn’t want that door opened.

As you arrived, the tagger and the young man gone, you were about to open the door before you heard a voice call from further down the balcony.

The mysterious figure from the car was there, strutting along the path like he owned the place. You kept your hand on the door handle and looked at him to see what he had to say.

“Are you sure you want to open that?” he gloated, smiling slightly and stopping just next to you. You looked him up and down. He had a shorter stature than you expected.

“I was planning on it,” you remarked, jiggling the door handle in your grasp. It was unlocked, unlike all the other doors you had tried. This must have been the safe zone.

The figure tucked his hands into the pockets of his white hoodie and raised his eyebrows while scanning the door up and down. “Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that the tagger didn’t just stand in front of it?” he said.

You thought for a second. He had a point, but you didn’t have time to think logically at that moment. The game phone in your pocket beeped and announced that there was only five minutes remaining.

“Look I’ll just open it slowly. But we must hurry because we won’t know how long I could take to disengage the bomb,” you said matter-of-factly.

The man nodded and stood behind you so he could see what was through the door when you opened it. You breathed out heavily and slowly turned the door handle to peep inside.

The room blossomed with light as soon as you opened the door. It seemed normal enough, except there was another door on the other side of the room that led to a lit-up area.

“That must be the safe zone,” you breathed out, relieved. “Must be,” the figure repeated.

A sudden deafening sound filled the air behind you and you both whipped your head around to see the new player that had followed you lying on the ground with several holes in his chest. You felt blood splatter onto your face from the impact, shifting your eyes upwards just to see the tagger at the end of the hallway, quickly storming their way down towards you and the man.

“Shit!” you screamed. “No time to waste!”

You pulled open the door completely, and before Chishiya could even think quick enough, you grabbed him by the back of his hoodie and tugged him inside harshly.

He stumbled from the sudden movement and ended up falling on top of you from the force, managing to kick the door shut with his foot in the process.

You groaned underneath him. “Sorry,” you muttered. “You weren’t moving so I didn’t have a choice.”

He chuckled above you and pushed his arms against the ground to stand himself up and off you. “No worries, I could never be mad at someone for saving my life.”

 *************

You thought that both of those encounters with the strange young men would be your last, but apparently not.

You began being put in the same games as Chishiya more often, eventually forming a bond with him and always teaming up together during games. He introduced you to his friend Kuina, who you became rather close as time went on.

Although you still preferred your time alone greatly, there was always a certain someone who would disturb your peace and quiet.

Niragi would take any opportunity to annoy you, whether it be in the hallways when you’re on your way to bed where he would back you up against a wall and try to make you feel threatened, or whether it be out at the pool when you were by yourself. People would stare at you both as he sat with you and tried to make it seem like to the public that you were together, which was quite embarrassing.

He would never leave you alone, and at some points you began to believe that he was stalking you. He managed to find you everywhere, so it wouldn’t be an outrageous claim.

Chishiya however you found a lot more likeable.

He was subtle, kind of making sly comments about his attraction to you every now and then. You appreciated him trying to hide it more rather than being too open about it like Niragi. It made you more interested in the intelligent and mysterious man.

Chishiya at times though would come across as rather overprotective. That was the only thing you had a problem with, because out of all people he would know that you can handle yourself simply fine.

Sometimes in games together, he would do everything in his power to make sure you stay away from potential death. At times he would drag you around like a ragdoll just so you stay beside him. It became quite annoying, but you dealt with it anyway. You did not want to offend or upset him.

**********

Niragi leant against the hallway wall just outside your bedroom door. He was waiting for you to get changed so he could take you down to the bar and have a few drinks with you. You did not know he was outside though, he kind of just saw you after you arrived back from your game and followed you.

As he fiddled with his rifle to kill time, he heard a small pitter-patter of feet just down the hall from him. He glanced upwards to see none other than Chishiya making his way up the carpet towards him.

Both exchanged confused looks, until Niragi’s mouth pulled up into a smirk and he ran his pierced tongue over his bottom lip slowly like a snake.

“What’s a blondy like you doing here?” he chuckled, pushing himself off the wall and slinging his rifle over his shoulder in its usual position.

Chishiya raised his eyebrows, conveying his usual confident expression on his face. “I could ask you the same thing,” he retorted, walking further towards Niragi.

Niragi chuckled deeply then spoke. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“Really? Giving them a fright before their execution. That’s quite low Niragi even for you.” Chishiya’s smile never left his face.

Niragi threw his head back and cackled. “No actually, quite the opposite really. I’m waiting to take her down to the pool.”

Chishiya widened his eyes in shock. “Her? Hm. I never took you as the romantic type,” he teased.

“I’m not. I’m more of the ‘follow you around until you pay attention to me’ type,” Niragi admitted. Chishiya let out a small laugh at his comment.

“Seems more like you.”

Chishiya walked further towards Niragi who remained close to your door. He watched in confusion as Chishiya reached his hand out towards the door handle to open it, but before he could, Niragi whipped his hand quickly over it to stop him.

“What are you doing?” Niragi said in a tense voice, so contrasting to the somewhat light-hearted one he had just a moment ago.

Chishiya pulled his hand back slowly and looked up into Niragi’s darkened eyes. “Going into this room? What else would I be doing?”

“But this is Y/N’s room,” Niragi argued, standing in front of the door so Chishiya couldn’t get inside.

Chishiya raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? So? I need to talk to her.”

Niragi leaned down closer to him with a frown painted on his face. “About what?”

Chishiya rolled his eyes. “None of your business you creep. Why are you standing in front of Y/N’s room like a guard dog anyway?”

“She’s the one I’m taking down to the bar.”

Chishiya’s heart dropped. There’s no way you’ve been with Niragi, you weren’t dumb enough to become involved with the psychotic militants.

“Wait no. She told me that she was going to spend some time with me and Kuina after the games.”

Silence filled the air between them. Neither of them knew what to say, but the rising tension between them became stronger each second.

“Does she know you’re here?” Chishiya asked out of the blue.

“Does she know you’re here?” Niragi fired back, avoiding his question.

Another awkward silence before Niragi spoke. “Look, you better not get involved with her more than you already have. She’s mine so you stay away from her,” he threatened Chishiya, walking towards him causing the shorter man to take a step back.

“Oh, you want me to stay away? You are standing outside her bedroom door with a rifle over your shoulder. Do you really think she’ll learn to like you?”

“At least she can trust me, you fucking manipulative snake.”

“She’d probably be terrified you’d put several bullets through her Niragi. Why don’t you think logically and leave her alone? It would save her the suffering of having to deal with you!”

“What? So, you can gaslight your way into her trust? At least I am straight forward Chishiya, you’d do nothing but lie and use her for your own personal gain like the fucking selfish brat you are!”

“No, at least I wouldn’t view her as nothing but a toy to play with. You know she doesn’t like you, so why the fuck do you keep trying?”

“Shut up!”

“No, I won’t! I am not going to let you weasel your way into her life and put her on display like some trophy to show off to everyone! Just leave her the fuck alone and stop following her around! It’s really fucking pathetic of you!”

Chishiya suddenly flew back into the wall behind him, creating a large bang that echoed down the halls. Niragi had kicked him square in the chest backwards. He let out a satisfied laugh.

“Look at you! You can’t even defend yourself! What makes you think that you could keep me away from Y/N?!”

Chishiya sat up from his position on the floor and let out a loud groan. His spine was screaming in pain, making him stumble before finally standing on his two feet.

Niragi didn’t even give him time to breath before he punched him across the jaw, making his head whip sideways and fall back against the wall. Niragi gripped one hand in his blonde hair roughly while another clutched the collar of his hoodie.

Chishiya yelped in pain, not being able to fight back. He didn’t bring any weapons to help himself, he did not expect to be in this situation when he left his room to come to yours.

Niragi leaned close to his face which was scrunched up in pain. “I dare you to try and keep me away. Because nothing comes between me and what I want, no matter what it is.” He spat harshly in his face, narrowly missing Chishiya’s eye.

He let loose of Chishiya’s white hair, causing him to fall to the carpeted ground. “I guess I’ll meet up with her another time, when there aren’t any rats around to trip on,” Niragi chuckled and turned to make his way down the hall towards the staircase at the end.

‘What wonderful timing Y/N would have if she came out just now,’ Chishiya thought to himself.

As if he had predicted the future, you busted out of your room harshly, almost tripping in the process. You locked eyes with Chishiya, who had blood pouring out his nose while seated against the wall opposite your door.

“Oh my god! Chishiya! The fuck happened to you?!” you exclaimed, rushing over and kneeling in front of him.  “I heard a loud bang outside and came out to see what it was. Was someone else here?”

Chishiya grabbed the hand that you offered to him to help him up. He groaned as you lifted him to a standing position, only for him to fall forwards onto you from sudden nausea that hit him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to keep him upright while he placed his chin on your collarbone.

“Just forget about it. I’m okay, just a little scratched up,” he tried to deflect your question. “I had a really rough game and I tripped over just then. Smacking my nose on the ground didn’t help much.” He was surprised with himself about how quick he covered up what happened. He felt quite embarrassed being beaten up by someone as dumb as Niragi, so he didn’t want to tell you.

You laughed a little bit, the happy sound warming Chishiya’s heart. “You’re such an idiot. How do you manage to survive all these games while being so clumsy?”

Chishiya smiled. The fact that you cared about him outweighed the throbbing pain of his developing bruise on his jaw. He brought a hand up to his nose and wiped along it, soaking up the small bit of blood in his sleeve.

“You still want to go see Kuina?” he asked you, pulling away from you and looking you in the eyes.

“Yeah of course!” you exclaimed excitedly. “I was thinking we go down to the pool for a while. We can sit in a corner somewhere and chat,” you suggested.

Chishiya nodded and held out his hand. “Shall we then?” he said teasingly.

You laughed and began walking while leaving him hanging. “Maybe one day I’ll hold your hand, but not today.”

Chishiya chuckled and jogged to catch up with you. As you walked side by side, he secretly hoped that Niragi wouldn’t be down at the pool, preparing to start trouble the moment he sees Chishiya with you.

Unfortunately, his luck wasn’t on his side that night.

[amoristt]

Grazing the Fire | IV

well hello. here i am, four years later, once again enamored with nathan enough to finally dust this baby off and pick up where i left it. im a little rusty so bear with me this chapter! much more to come <3

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)! it also helps motivate me!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

Warning: language, very vague s/a mentions

want to support me? heres my kofi!

__________________________

“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?” 

A few hands raise in the corners of your eye, but yours remains atop your desk. Eyes far away, mind in a murky haze and almost completely unaware. All you could focus on were the memories playing on repeat within the confines of your tired, tired brain. Hours ago, you were warm, you were comfortable. Safe.

Cheeks heated to a dusting blush when you remind yourself just how you had awoken that morning. At some point in the night, an angel had blessed you. Allowed you to wake up wrapped around none other than big, bad, Nathan Prescott. Your face nuzzled into his chest, broad but wiry hands pressed firmly over your shoulder and his arm slung over your waist to keep you against him. Thankfully you had been the first to wake up, blinking away the morning sun blazing through his blinds and painting the room stripes of gold. At that moment, before your headache came crashing down onto your skull, you were astounded by him. 

Eye lashes brushing the top of his cheeks, his lips parted ever so slightly, chest rising and falling rhythmically. In that moment, there was no anger, no bitterness. Just a soft and peaceful slumber. It was like being the sole viewer of a magnificent painting- each stroke and detail placed just there just for you to pick out, to remember the curves and sharp edges down to the very foundation. From his unkempt hair down to the way his hand flattened onto the mattress where your indent still lived. Nathan was so beautiful like this. 

For a long time you stayed there. It was as though you were afraid to move- you couldn’t bear to disturb him. You had wondered, if he was always like this, so at peace, what would he be like? Likely soft voiced, mild mannered. He’d do his school assignments without hassle and donate to the charity board. He would wander the town with his friends and listen to music in a beat up truck flying down the stretch of highway overlooking the bold, blue, and beautiful ocean. An entirely different version of himself- carefree, and a fair blue as opposed to a burning flame of red. 

But, if that were the case, you’d never have gotten here. You’d never been both the outsider, and the only seeing eye. A lucky, albeit firstly unwilling witness to the display of depth before you. 

It never hit you like it had quite in that moment how lucky you were.

But- just then- an alarm disturbed what serendipity existed. You nearly leapt out of your skin, clutched your hands to your chest at the sudden sound. A headache wove its way into your once untouched temples. Nathan groaned, mumbled, ‘god damn it’, under his breath, and thus his body was reanimated into life. He rubbed his eyes and he stretched, that familiar scowl coming over his eyes and lips as he took in the sunlight damn near blinding him. A polar opposite to the being you’d appreciated just moments earlier.

“Ugh, fuck, how the fuck is it seven already.” He groaned. “I feel like shit.”

“Well good morning to you too,” You started, welcoming Nathan into the world. “‘I’m feeling pretty shitty as well.” 

You said that, but really… You were more than alright. Your head had hurt, slight nausea crept into the wells of your stomach, but other than that you’re sure you were phenomenally better than you’d have been waking up whereverTate would have left your ass.

“You need to get outta here, before everyone gets up.” Nathan drawled, but he didn’t sound as urgent as you expected him to be. You’d expected him to be angry that you were still in his room, but instead he just… accepted it. 

You snickered, climbing out of his throne of a bed. “Wow, you’re giving me the morning after treatment?” 

“Sure am. Get outta here, whore.”

“Oh fuck you.” 

You located your heels from last night, resting upright near his dorm room door. Heels didn’t sound like the most  practical to sneak out of a dorm with, so you instead opted to grappling them by the straps and carrying them at your side. Hair a mess, outfit riddled with wrinkles and makeup smudged under your eyes, you stood before Nathan in all your glory. He stared at you for a long, odd moment- and you for some reason felt exposed, or even, shy. 

“What?” You ask expectantly, placing a hand on your hip. 

His eyes trail to your line of vision. He shakes his head. “Just thinking about how now you really do look like my morning after.”

“Yeah?” You hummed. “Find it hard to believe you get a lot of those.”

Nathan shoots you a suggestive glance. “You’d be surprised. Everyone wants a piece of Prescott.”

Surely, he was joking, or maybe he wasn’t, but you… Didn’t like hearing that. It made your stomach feel odd, uncomfortably heavy.  As he stood up, reminding you how many inches he had over your size, you swallowed and cleared your throat to flush out that crappy feeling. “Well,” you started, mood having dropped. “I’m gonna go, then.” 

“What got your panties in a twist all the sudden?” He asked, raising a brow and pulling some clothes from his closet, tossing them onto the bed.

The bed you two had shared.

You hated the idea of his morning afters- whoever they may be. 

“Not feeling great. Probably a side effect of the roofies.” You mumbled.

Nathan breathed a laugh. “Probably.”

He seemed so calm, right now. Perhaps due to it being so early, before the outside world had a chance to remind him just why he was so uptight all the tight. Before he needed to be so uptight all the time. He really did have so many versions of himself- all of whom you were slowly becoming familiar with. Compared to the person you’d believed him to be before your run ins, you’d never have assumed someone so dangerous could be so soft as last night, as this morning. In the beginning, you’d feared him. Avoided him like a plague, or a wild animal. Even when you were enraptured in the existence of him, you still wanted to keep away. You’d never have believed someone like you could wake up clutched to his chest, as though he were afraid if he released you, you’d be gone long before he woke. 

Then, a sudden thought struck your mind. 

He’d held you so tight. He’d welcomed you in the morning. No anger, no annoyance. His soft laugh at your banter and taunts. How your heels were standing upright instead of tossed haphazardly into some random corner, where he’d watch your struggle to find. 

How he’d stayed awake to ensure your sleep.

“So are you just gonna stand there?” Nathan called you back to reality, hands gripping the hems of his shirt. “I gotta get ready and you need to wash up so you don’t look like a five dollar stripper.” Cruel words, but with absolutely no bite. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah. But, hey,” You started. “Thank you for last night.” 

“Yeah, yeah. You gotta start learning to watch your own back.” He says. “There’s gonna be times I won’t be there to drag your ass out of the fire.”

If you’d been charged, if you’d been stricken with a strange defensiveness, you’d have retorted, ‘than stop helping me’, but… Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of protection. You allowed Nathan Prescott to watch you.  

“I know,” You reached for the door. “Thank you.”

With that, you bounded out of the dorm silent as a mouse. 

-----------

In hindsight, you should have left earlier. Class was merely 15 minutes away when you slipped out of Nathan's room and bounded towards the women's dorm. Albeit not exactly a long walk, by the time you discreetly snuck back into your own dorm, you had roughly twenty minutes to somehow pick an outfit from your countless unopened boxes and make yourself even slightly presentable. 

Wiping off whatever make-up you could get and reapplying it, brushing out the tangles of your hair and nearly tearing off your scalp in the process, scattering your nightclothes over your floor and managing to scrounge out a semi-decent outfit for the day… You still looked a mess. If the mirror could laugh, it would have. Black mascara smudges under your eyes and frizzy untreated hair. What a lovely look. 

You’d made it to class just five minutes late, but those five minutes were all it took for all eyes to be on you as you tried to slide into the classroom unnoticed. A couple classmates whispered to their table mates as you passed by, smelling of oversaturated cherry blossom perfume to hopefully cover the scent of alcohol. You sauntered to your seat and sank down with all your weight, suddenly exhausted. You’d made it with just five minutes tainting your record of attendance. The teacher greeted you with a disappointed sigh, and thus, the day began. 

But, it was so hard to focus. All you could think about was Nathan. 

“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?” 

You lowered your head. 

“Ah, how about, ___?”

You snaked back into reality, blinking up at the chalk board that was somehow already riddled with math equations. Since you hadn’t been paying attention even in the slightest, your mouth gaped wide open, eyes scanning for something you understood even slightly so you didn’t look like a total idiot. 

Sadly, you were out of luck. The teacher shook his head. “I’m shocked,” He said. “You're normally so on top of things. Oh well.”

“Oh, I’m sure she was on top of things,” A female voice sniggered behind you “Last night.”

Your face flushed a red, hot, ruby. What the hell was she talking about? How had they found out you were with Nathan? You were so sure of being sneaky, there was no way-

“Her and Tate totally got it on last night.”

You whipped around in your seat, facing girls who looked to be clones of some sort. Both with the same dark eyes, short brown hair, and freckles. “What?”

“Alright-” Your teacher blurted. “That's enough. April, May, enough. Let’s not discuss things outside of the classroom.”

The two girls batted their eyes. “Sorry sir.” One spoke, twirling a hand through her hair. Her sister's wide toothy grin never fumbled. 

“Back to it then. Kate, can you help out __ with number four?” 

The small, blonde girl nodded quickly, brushing a lock of hair behind her eyes and offering an empathic nod. 

As you turned around in your seat, her answer fell on deaf ears. Your heart was racing in your chest, hands balled into fists while you stared ahead blankly.  

They couldn’t seriously think that you chose to leave with Tate, could they? Surely someone must have seen the state you were in. Someone other than Nathan.

The clock ticks forward but time feels like it's passing almost unnaturally slow. With just 10 minutes left, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

‘Nathan: consider ur favor officially returned 

Your tongue poked from your lips, the tiniest of smiles taking over your once sullen features. Terrible thoughts and worries flew out the window while you type back, ‘damn. here i was gonna to ask you to do a backflip off the roof with me. there goes my plans.’

Nathan types for a moment. Typing, stopping, typing again. 

‘Nathan: soundz like a blast. where and when?’

A small blush heats your cheeks. ‘very funny. thanks to last night i have an entire 24 hour session of studying to catch up with.’

His response is almost instant. ‘Nathan: boringgg. txt me when ur fun.’

Rolling your eyes, you shove your phone back into your pocket. It seems you’ve been able to secure enough of a friendship with him for some mindless banter even outside your little visits. You smile. He’s… Fun to talk to. Surprisingly. 

Class comes to an end and you start to pack up the books and papers you’d hardly even glanced at the whole period. Whatever had been upsetting you before is lost in your mind while you think of the morning, the night before. All the things in-between. But, your happiness doesn’t last long. As you get up, you’re almost forced right back into your seat as a weight shoves into your shoulder. Your books scatter to the floor. April, the one who’d remarked about you earlier, glares at you in what looks to be disgust. 

“Careful April,” Her sister hums as she saunters past you, keeping distance and raising her already shrill tone of voice. “Might wanna watch where you’re walking- I’d hate for you to catch something from this slut.”

You absolutely gawk at her. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

April scoffs. “Oh come on, like everyone doesn’t know what you were up to last night.”

“Sleeping around isn’t a good color on you.” May hikes her bag over her shoulder and snickers at you. They both leave the class together, sickeningly in sync. You’re left stunned where you stand, unsure how the hell your life came to this so quickly. How you’ve stooped so low that the daughters of the world's most uncreative parents are able to bully you based on something that didn’t even happen.

Next class goes no better. The person to your right, a jockey looking brunette guy, asks, ‘have you ever heard of a Tate?’. You say no, that that’s the dumbest name you’ve ever heard. The idiot grins and goes back to marking down likely wrong answers on his test sheet and you debate kicking the leg of his chair out- but you don’t to avoid even more eyes on you. It makes you sick to your stomach- even more than recovering from the roofies does. How can everyone believe it? You barely even knew the guy and you were clearly uncomfortable with his advances. No one saw that? 

After everything you’d worked for to build a reputation, trying so hard to not call out peoples shit for the sake of seeming friendly, tainted over something that didn’t even happen? And the kicker was that it hadn’t even been your fault! He’d drugged you, he’d have taken advantage of you! Yet you were the bad person? 

Class came and went in the blink of an eye this time. Your mind wrapped up in the situation, your stomach churning. You wanted the day to be over with but you still had 4 more classes to suffer through. Why was this happening to you? Was Tate being treated just as horribly, or was he getting pats on the backs of his unaware friends?

Wandering down the halls to your locker, you noticed Lance and Kaz hanging around one of the drinking fountains. Your nerves quelled- your friends would surely make you feel much better. Especially since they had witnessed how awful you were feeling as you left. You approach with a relieved smile, ready to say your truth and finally have someone on your side.

“Hey guys.” You smile, but Lance looks down at his feet while Kaz places her hands to his hips. Your smile fades.

“You could have told us you were gonna spend the night with Tate,” Kaz snaps. “You didn’t need to lie like that just to leave. We were all worried about you and it was for nothing.”

“What?” You feel like you could cry. “No, Kaz, I really did try to leave. Tate tried to drug me and take me home, and-”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Lance interrupts, with a frown. He looks back down at the floor with knitted brows. “I’ve known Tate since before time. He wouldn't do something like that, especially not to one of my best friends. Plus he told me he was really into you. Why would he even try?”

“Are you serious?” You sputter. “You think I’d lie about something like that?”

“You’ve been lying about all sorts of things!” Kaz huffs. “What’s going on with you lately? You’ve been so distant, and secretive. What are you hiding that’s making you lie like this? We’re supposed to be your friends and then you lie to our faces just to go and fuck the first guy that shows you attention.”

“What…?” It was like acid. It was like the rug had been pulled from your feet sending you spiraling down the unending cliff. Kaz, your best friend, all that venom. How could they turn against you like this? What the hell is going on? You felt your throat tighten. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been distant, but I’m not lying to you, I-”

“We gotta go.” Lance isn’t in the mood to hear it. “We’ll catch up to you.. Some other time.”

Kaz says nothing as she pushes past you. Lance, at least, spares a short glance over his shoulder. You stood there alone in the hallway, your bag falling off your shoulder and clattering onto the floor with a thud echoing off the walls. Everything you had, all gone at once. 

No one believed you.

---------

With nowhere to go where you felt like you could truly allow yourself to process the day's events, you went to the only place you knew. 

Just outside of campus, where rocks lined the edge of the boundary, overlooking the outskirts of the town and the ocean stretching as far as the eye could see. You settled yourself there, staring at the vast waters and wondering how this had all happened. Unlucky didn’t even begin to cover how it felt. Not only did you feel violated with Tate attempting to do unthinkable things with your unconscious body, but you also felt alone, and walked on. Your best friends hadn’t believed you. While Lance seemed saddened, Kaz was so… Angry. Her words cut like knives into your skin. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this.

You want to talk to Nathan, but knowing him, he’d see your state and bounce instantly. After all, this isn’t exactly very fun of you.

As the sun began to fall, splaying orange and blues over the wide open sky, behind you, you could hear voices. A group of them, some male, some female. Memories of when your notebook had gotten snatched by those two horsed face assholes came flooding back and with all your alertness, you stood up, and decided that this sitting place was no longer safe. Nothing was.

Before you even made it ten feet away, the group had found their way to your spot and gotten comfortable, one of the girls cheering, ‘this’ll be our hangout! look at how pretty the view is!’

You took a short drive down the stretches of road and decided that if you were going to lament in your own sadness, you were at least going to do so in a place that had something to cover the sound of your tears. Plus a nice view.

The beach, littered with its picnic tables and the sounds of crashing waves would suffice just fine. So, you pulled in the desolate parking lot and wandered down the sandy shores until you stumbled upon a picnic table shaded by a large willow cascading lushious branches to block out the sun- a perfect canopy for you to wallow under. 

You had nothing at that moment. No friends, no reputation, no one to believe your tragic tale. And now, you’d just lost the one spot that made you feel comfortable when stress was building into your body like concrete. Tears pricked into the corners of your eyes and you bit your lip, dreading that feeling of a lump in your throat. Why you? Everything had been going so well. How could not even a single person believe that Tate had tried to hurt you?

Well, actually, there was one person.

Of course Nathan believed you. He’d been the one to rescue you, after all. Time and time again it seemed.  How was it that even the ones closest to you would turn their back so fast, yet Nathan seemed to be there even when you didn’t want him to be? Even when you yelled at him, and he yelled right back, fire and sparks falling into embers around the two of you. 

In that moment, you almost felt like you could finally relate to him. A reputation based on lies and things out of your control, paired with a hardheaded attitude to try and combat all the assumptions. 

No wonder he was so angry. 

“Hey bitch,” A voice suddenly called, and you had a split second moment where you were terrified of once again being the victim of a cruel prank or some classmates boredom. “How about next time you have a pity party you don’t fucking call me in the middle of it.”

You blinked away your tears and through the blurriness saw a figure coming towards you. All that sass, the tone...

“Nathan?” You breathed. It only takes moments before he’s in front of you, holding his phone in view, seeing that the call that had been running for nearly ten minute. You flush in embarrassment, pulling your phone from your back pocket. “How did that happen?”

“Well, can your ass dial numbers?” He taunts, ending the call. 

“Damn it, dumb phone must have butt-dialed you. I knew I should’ve gotten a different one.” You mentally kick yourself. “It must have unlocked in my pocket.”

“You don’t have a password on your phone?” He taunts. When you shake your head, he whistles. “You are just begging for a robbery. I’ll keep that in mind when I’m in the mood to send random messages to all your buddies.” 

“Fuck off.” You scowl, and he grins, hopping up on the picnic table next to you. The sun flatters his skin. He’s almost glowing. 

“Speaking of buddies, how the hell did it pick my number out of your sea of friends?”

You shrug. “Probably cuz’ it’s a priority contact.” 

“Oh lala, I’ve been upgraded to priority huh? Does it display a superman logo whenever you give it a ring?”

“Nope. When I press call it rings the nearest asshole in my vicinity. The fact that it’s you is your own problem.”

“Haha, fucking ha.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He stares out at the water, watching waves pull and crash onto the beach. It’s almost beautiful, until he ruins it. “Yknow, you’re a really ugly crier.”

“Wow, thanks.” You shake your head. “That's exactly what I needed to hear right now. Why did you even stay on the line?.” Wiping your eyes, you start to forget your tears. “Couldn’t have been that wild of a conversation.”

Nathan shrugs. “Between the crying and the sound of the waves it was pretty nice.” He grins. “Very educational.” 

“Awesome. Glad I was able to make your day.” It doesn’t feel like your usual bitey remarks. You’re tired, you’re still a little hurt and you can’t stop thinking about how such an amazing morning had turned into such a horrible day.

“So what’s got you all fucked up? Never seen you act like this big of a baby before.”

“Nothing. You already paid off your debt to me per this morning, so feel free to resume our regularly scheduled mutual hatred.” You say, lying through your teeth. You know you’re both past the point of hatred, but you’re feeling jaded, you can’t help it. 

“Oh shut the fuck up,” He groans. “I didn’t drag my ass all the fucking way out to this shit hole of a beach just for you to give me that bullshit. What, did you fail a test? No one matched you on tinder?”

“Everyone thinks me and Tate slept together last night.” You blurt. “I think he’s telling people me and him had sex.”

Nathan tenses his shoulders and grimaces. “Fucking werido.”

“I told my best friends that he tried to take advantage of me and they don’t believe me. One of em’ even said he wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Fuck em’. Who needs best friends.”

“And to make everything so much better, these two bitches that I share four of my classes with harassed me all goddamn day. I mean, fucks sake, how the hell are girls named April and May of all things able to get to me. It’s bullshit. And to make matters worse, Tate is just… Getting away with it.”

“Yeah well, something tells me that Tate’s gonna get a real nice fucking taste of medicine eventually. I just gotta find him first. He’s got a lot of nerve spreading shit around given I knocked his ass onto the pavement.” Nathan brows knit at the memory.

You test the waters. “Why would you do that for me?”

He seems caught off guard, or maybe, surprised that you’d ask. Maybe he thinks you’re both beyond that point. He grumbles, “Why does it matter.”

“I’m just curious. We don’t owe each other anything, remember?”

“Yeah, well,” He huffs. “Don’t ask me questions to shit I don’t know the answer to.”

“You say that an awful lot.” You tease.

“Yeah well you ask dumbass questions an awful lot. Not everything I do has to have some weird ass motives behind it, ___. Maybe I’ve got beef with Tate that’s outside of you.”

“Uhuh. Sure.” You’re about to say something else, when your phone lights up with a text. The display makes your heart fall all over again. 

Unknown Number: you should just pack up and go somewhere else. no one wants std’s from breathing your air xoxo

You don’t even know who that is. Now absolute strangers are on your case. You want to throw your phone into the ocean and leave.

Nathan scoffs. “Don’t even bat a fucking eye for that bitch, whoever the hell they are. Half the hoes you’ve mentioned have slept with half the football team,” he pinches his jacket, “and I would know.”

“Ew, Nathan,” You grimace, that same feeling from the morning returning. It feels, oddly, like jealousy.  He nudges your arm with his elbow and grins playfully. It’s cute.

“Chill, I’m just fucking with you. You gotta know even I wouldn’t fuck girls that desperate. I’m a man of class.”

That last comment actually forces a laugh from you. It’s soft, but it’s real. The first laugh you’ve genuinely had all day. “That’s horrible.” You remark, giggling again.

It's almost like the slight restoration of your mood puts him at ease as well. He leans back on his hands and stares off into the ocean, those sparkling waters under the setting, orange sun. “I’m for real though. Those hoes aren’t worth your time. One day when we blow this shithole of a town they’re not even gonna matter.”

Your brows knit, eyes blinking up at him. Had you heard that right? 

“We?” You ask, perplexed, albeit a little… Hopeful.

Nathan sputters. “Well- Like, when everyone’s older and-”

“You know what, it's fine.” You interrupt. “Fuck it. You’re right. We’re gonna blow this town and they’re just gonna be some shitty memories.”

He sucks in a shaky breath. You’ve never heard him scramble like that, like he’s been unmasked. The look he casts you when you agree, when you don’t tease or patronize and finally hop on the idea that yeah, what if the two of you really didn’t have to deal with it anymore.

What if the two of you could just exist, without the anger. 

You look up at him. “Would you actually do that though?” You start. “With me, of all people?”

He swallows. His expression is tense, but he’s not upset. He appears nervous, caught off guard. Nathan tries, “I-”

Your phone rings. Shrill, piercing. Mood destroying. 

“Jesus Christ, it’s my mom.” You grab your phone and Nathan looks forward, stone faced and silent as you hop off the table and answer. It’s your mother, who all but shouts into the phone that her and your father are taking a surprising visit to Arcadia Bay while they’re traveling by on their vacation. She insists that you be ready in about an hour for dinner, and likely there will be family photos. 

Which means if you still look as wrecked as you did this morning, you’re gonna have a lot of washing up to do. With a quick goodbye, a short and sweet, ‘love you’, you hang up and sigh. 

“You still tell your mom you love her?” He teases. “What are you, five?”

You frown. “You don’t tell your parents you love them?”

Nathan side eyes you, and just shrugs. It is all the answer you need, really, and for his sake you decide it wouldn’t be best to press the issue. Not now. But- it still makes your heart hurt just a little. You wished that he’d had it better growing up. 

“Right… Do you want a ride home?”

“Fuck no, what am I,” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “a fucking girl scout?” 

“I was just offering, weirdo.” When he doesn't get up, you feel like you’re missing out. Like if you stayed, maybe, just maybe, you’d get to know him a little better. “Hey, if you want, I can stay for a bit longer.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re needed elsewhere. But,” he shrugs. “I don’t know. Fuckin’... Text me or something. Or not, I don’t care either way.”

There’s a small warmth in your chest that rises to your cheeks. He wants you to text him. “Yeah,” You say. “If I’m feeling fun.”

And with that, you bid him farewell, beginning your descent to the parking lot. 

“Hey,” He calls, and you turn just in time to catch a small item he’s tossed right at you. A tiny key resides in the palm of your hand. “Spare. If shit hits the fan again-...” He shrugs, and actually looks away. “Just don’t be too fucking loud of I’ll kick your ass out myself. No Madison needed.”

The widest grin plays over your lips. “I’m gonna re-decorate your room while you’re gone.”

“Ah, you fucking better not.” He shouts. “Actually- you know what, give it back.” 

“No, no! I’m sorry.” You play with the key between your fingers. “Thanks for this.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t lose it and remember- emergencies only. I don’t need you watching me sleep like fucking freak. We’re past that stage.” 

“How many times will I have to say I was never watching you. Christ… But, alright. See ya, then.” The key is heavy in your palm. 

You place it into your pocket and give him one last glance before you take off, leaving him to enjoy the sound of waves, birds, and the absence of your tears.

[bastillewolf]

Hello idk if the requests are still going but if not then its okay ignore this and if they are please don't over work yourself and you don't need to do my request if you don't want to just stay healthy and eat well and drink lots of water we all live your work (and are simps for corpse-)

The ask : could I ask for a corpse husband x reader where they used to get shipped together before they even meet each other and when they meet each other corpse goes soft for reader and they play two rounds In among us together where they are imposters together and corpse is an imposter alone in the other round

Reader info : reader has a very soft voice and is a softie and the pronounce is she/her or they/them ( as you wish)

Again you don't gotta do it if you don't want to

Thanks so much for the ask, An. I was feeling like shit and this was a lot of fun to write. I’m sorry though, I completely read over the part where the reader was supposed to have a soft voice. I’ll see if I can make another one with this specification sometime. Also, I wrote this rather quickly because I’m watching Twilight for the first time and now my feelings are hurt.

#CorpseBride - Oneshot

Pairings: Corpse / Reader

Twitter wasn’t really your forte, but you knew how to get around. It’s just that you never really had the time to check it, let alone to see what’s on the trending page every single day. At the very least, you were capable of replying to your friends’ stuff and letting your viewers know when you were streaming or when a new video would be up. Again, you weren’t a pro, but you got by.

Until you didn’t.

“Hey, everyone,” you greeted, and immediately went to change your Among Us figure to its usual colour and outfit before someone else took it.

Everyone welcomed you, while it seemed Toast was still busy trying to get a last person to join.

“Whaddup, baby,” Corpse’s shot out from the rest of them. It was pure teasing, something he’d grown quite comfortable with ever since people had blatantly started simping for his voice. “Nothing much, honey. How’ve you been?” You cheekily replied. “Pretty good. Streaming still makes me nervous, though.” “You greeted me with ‘Whaddup, baby’ and then proceed to tell me you’re nervous? Don’t get upset when I say that I don’t believe you.” He chuckled at that.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

“Ha!” you called out, “I doubt this will soothe your nerves, Corpse. You’re teamed up with me now.” You sneaked in a glance at chat. “We are not an old married couple! If anything, he can be my bitch for this round. I’m just not gonna murder anyone.”

And that’s basically how it went. He managed to kill three people and still wasn’t being sussed. “Alright, I think I’ve tortured him enough,” you laughed, “I’ll even spare Sykkuno for the man.”

You managed to corner Toast and killed him in a corner where the water wheels were, before heading out into admin. You vented until you found Corpse in Labs and jumped out. It was right when Sykkuno walked in.

“Oh, god no. Please, Sykkuno.”

Your kill count still wasn’t down yet and he was obviously planning to run straight out the door to hit the emergency button, but he was stopped. Corpse had murdered him in an instant.

Your mouth was hanging open. “Did… Did he just kill Sykkuno for me?” Chat was going absolutely wild. “What the fuck just happened?” You decided to report the body anyway.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Corpse growled, “Not my best friend, Sykkuno.”

You had to mute yourself to keep the laughter at bay. Corpse evidently vouched for you, saying you’d walked in on the body together. Felix was sussed and voted out.

“Corpse, you killed me!” Sykkuno cried out.

“I’m so sorry, Sykkuno! I wanted to spare you but you walked in at the wrong time!” You pleaded.

“Sacrifices had to be made,” Corpse merely responded.

“Wait, what happened?” Sean asked.

“I walked in on one of them venting and then Corpse killed me!”

“Collateral damage. You watched me get killed one time, too.”

“Blame me, Sykkuno. It was my fault,” but you were laughing as you said it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard such regret coming from an imposter,” Sean laughed along, “Also, why the fuck were you two being so slow? Three meetings in and you’d only killed three people.”

“Corpse was simping for me,” you replied.

“I was not.”

“Yes, you were. Otherwise you would’ve asked me what the hell I’d been doing that entire time.”

“Fuck off,” he laughed.

“Corpse is an UWU-boy!”

“Oh my god, you guys are already trending.”

“Wait, what?”

Your phone was being blasted off to space, getting tons of messages with the hashtag #CorpseBride. It was number 1 trending on Twitter.

“So… whaddup, baby?”

“Oh no, you better buy me a drink first.”

“Sure.”

 You hadn’t thought he’d been serious in that moment, until he’d asked you to meet up after the game had ended. You hesitantly agreed, but reminded him that he absolutely did not have to participate in this just for the meme. “I’m not doing this for the meme,” he’d said, “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while, I just never knew how. It seemed like the perfect timing.”

You met him at his apartment, knowing how he was about going out in public, and feeling extremely nervous. You’d brought takeout, and because you hadn’t been sure what he wanted you’d ordered way too much. Upon opening the door, he looked at you, down at the bag, and said, “Shit, you got food?” Not really knowing what else to say, you simply replied, “Uh, yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have lots of leftovers, then.”

He smiled, gave you a hug that ended way too fast and left you paralyzed for a minute, and then invited you in. It turned out he’d already ordered food, too. “Plenty to choose from,” he laughed awkwardly. “Uh… You got any neighbours who might want some?” you asked.

“I-I don’t really talk to anyone outside of my friend group.”

“Oh, of course. I could go around, if you’d like.”

“You’d do that for me?”

You furrowed your brows. “Of course I would. Why not?”

“Alright, but let me at least come with you. You just do the talking.”

Three knocks at three different doors later, and someone accepted the offer and took over some of the food. “Hang on a minute,” the elderly man said, clad in only his pyjamas and a bathrobe, managing to make the situation even more uncomfortable, “Aren’t you my neighbour? You always scurry off before I get the chance to talk to you!”

You looked at Corpse, and he back at you, and you turned back to the elderly man. “He, uh… He’s very people shy. He has anxiety. I’m trying to help him cope. Also, his vocal chords are damaged.” Nothing you’d said so far had been a lie, technically, but the man still remained sceptical. “Then why didn’t you just leave a note or something?”

“Uh…” you jumped at the small voice appearing from behind you. It’s just that his ‘small voice’ is still nothing close to small. “I know, I’m terribly sorry, sir. I also just wanted to let you know that if you ever need anything, I’m just a few doors away.”

This seemed to please the man enough.

“I can’t believe you made me do that.”

“I made you?!” You gasped, “I didn’t make you do anything, you filthy liar! You’re just as bad in real life as in Among Us, when you’re the impostor and I’m the innocent crewmate.”

“No comment.”

“I didn’t even ask you a question.”

“No comment.”

“Deadass?”

“Deadass.”

You both laughed. Corpse hesitated for just a moment, but decided to ask anyway, “Were you nervous when I opened the door?”

You chuckled awkwardly, admitting, “Yeah, I was. I always get anxious meeting people. Well, we’d met before, of course. But just, you know, in real life.”

“I get it.”

You stood there in silence for a moment, until you noticed the rest of the takeout in your hands was getting cold. “Come on, wife,” he joked, linking his pinkie finger with yours, “Let me get you that drink.”

If he hadn’t dragged you along then and there, you could’ve sworn your knees would’ve given out.

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