#focus on dad jokes to numb the pain

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

thingol and beren parallelism of hearing the song of a woman from an older more powerful race, falling into instant inescapable love with her and fathering a child -- your one and only child -- with a heritage unheard of ever before or ever since; and then years later watching powerless as that child runs into a larger and more turbulent fate than you ever hoped they would have to endure

also dad jokes

[mywritersmind]

DROWN IT OUT - LN4

summary : a very drunken night makes for some very drunken mistakes.

listen up : dirty jokes. kissing. lando norris x zakbrownsdaughter!reader. sort of toxic reader.

word count : 1205

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I laugh as my friends and I walk through the club, getting to skip the line (thank you mick my favorite bouncer!). I pull my little black dress down, holding my friend's hand tightly as we maneuver through the crowd.

I grin even wider when I see Oscar and Franco, standing with drinks in their hands while talking. “Blue and Orange! My favs!” They turn me, wondering who’s screaming at them.

“Ay! Y/n!” Franco hugs me, clearly tipsy and even louder than usual, “You're here!”

Oscar laughs at Franco before messing up my hair, “Hey! Have you seen Lily?” I shake my head.

“I’d be with her if I saw her here! Better than you two.” I take Franco’s drink from his hand, tasting it before coughing, “Freak!”

“Uncultured!” He yells back at me as I shake my head and make my way to the bar, ordering my first drink of many.

Once my friends find me again, my night seems to blur a bit. I’m dancing with them, then some guy, then Franco?

“Got an audience, Y/n.” He whispers in my ear, his hands on my arms. I look to where he’s pointing to and silently swear to myself.

Lando Norris takes no measures to pretend he’s not staring at me. I raise a brow and he raises his glass. Franco shivers next to me, “I could cut the tension with a knife!” I shake my head, grabbing Franco’s hand and pulling him out of sight from Lando.

I find my friends who are with Oscar and Lily. I scream and hug the girl as he giggles. I sip my drink while throwing my hands up in the air, twirling around to the music.

The club is stuffy and loud, the smell of smoke all around us. I jump in my heels because the alcohol in my system is numbing my feet pain. I flip my hair back so it’s out of my face, wishing I had a hair tie.

I continue to dance, swinging my hips and singing alone before I back up into someone. His hands are on my hips in an instant to stop me from falling further, “Brown.” he leans down to whisper it in my ear as my back is still facing him.

My eyes widen, I turn around quickly before crossing my arms, Lando’s hands leaving me for his pockets, “Norris.”

“You look really good.” I ignore the slight smile that forces its way onto my lips and focus on his voice instead.

I look him up and down, the all black doing something to me that I can’t explain… I bite my lip and look up at him, “You too. Great race today.”

We’re in Austin and the clench of his jaw tells me everything I need to know, “You’re funny.” he deadpans.

“So I've been told!” I smile widely as he leans down a bit so I can hear him. I look at him flirtatiously, “Dance with me?”

He shakes his head, wiping down his face as he looks at me. Fuck, the way he looks at me. He wants to, I know he does. He shakes his head anyways.

I roll my eyes, “Right, I forgot your my dads golden boy!”

His expression hardens, “He wouldn’t like you starting anything, either.”

“I’m his baby girl!” I smile innocently, “I do no wrong.”

“Yeah until you get too close to me. Why is it, just me? I feel like he gets antsy when you’re even a garage away.”

I laugh, “Because you- ” poking my finger at his chest, almost hitting the ‘4’ dangling from his neck. It’s a perfect reminder why I can’t do the things I want to do with him. “Are Lando Norris. And Oscar is happily glued to Lily! I don’t know if you know this…” I whisper in his ear, “But you’ve sort of got a fuck boy reputation.”

He pushes his hand through his curls, and I watch his arm go up and down. I hate myself for being attracted to him but damn is he good looking.

This makes a smirk grow on his face, tilting his head down, “He’d kill me.”

I smile, “I wouldn’t mind! The things we’d do aren't the sort of thing I'd tell my dad.”

His smile drops, taking a breath, “You make a convincing point. Still, no though.”

I sigh dramatically and back away, “Fine! Remember, Norris. My lips are always here for you!” I wink and walk away, joining my friends and letting Franco place his hand on my hip, knowing he’s watching.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I met Lando the first day he signed with Mclaren. He was younger, we both were. We were never friends, we didn’t see each other much because I was busy with Uni.

This year however, has been different. Very different. It’s like I missed four years and suddenly Lando got hot, flirty, and cocky.

But I still think back to that day when we first met, it was the day that my dad saw Lando and I smile at each other, he immediately vetoed any relationship with the McLaren drivers, or any other for that matter.

Lando knows this. He thinks it makes him more interesting to me, maybe he’s right.

I slam my phone back down on the table, a little drunk and severely pissed off.

“Your dad?” Lily asks me, Oscar’s arms are wrapped around her as he listens in.

I nod, “I just- Ugh! I can’t stand him sometimes.”

Oscar laughs, “I hear that.” I sometimes forget that other people have options on my dad. It’s sort of weird to me.

I sigh and down the rest of my drink, quite drunk and scanning the room before I can talk myself out of it.

“I’ll be back.” I mumble, setting my eyes on Lando and striding towards him. He’s talking to Carlos and Franco, a drink in his hand. “Norris!”

I yell, moving around the people who are annoyingly in my way. He turns to me, standing up straighter with a brow raised. I march right up to him, taking his hands in my face and kissing him.

He freezes for a second before grabbing my waist with one hand and kissing me back. This was what I wanted and it feels damn good. I can taste the alcohol on him, he smells like cologne.

People whistle and cheer around us. It takes my hand moving to Lando’s hair for him to back away from me.

He’s out of breath and licking his lips. He shakes his head, “Y/n.” I can tell he’s drank as much as me, he closes his eyes and breathes before the grip on my waist tightens, except he’s moving me away from him.

I know what he’s going to say by the look in his eye, he leans closer to no one can hear what he says except me, “I don’t want to be a way you piss off your dad.”

I frown, “Come on, Lando!”

“Come to me when you’re sober and not pissed off.” He shakes his head, still holding onto his drink as he walks away.

[cakeisme]

Currently going through Outlast Trials brain rot so here’s a fun Yandere Platonic Mother Gooseberry thought!

Platonic Yandere Mother Gooseberry becomes smitten upon seeing reagent reader to the point where she views you as an actual daughter that she can take care of.

Kidnaps you and forces you to wear pretty dresses with bows and frills basically treating you like her own doll. Straps you down into a chair bond as she plays with your hair and does your makeup. The makeup of course being blood and other people’s skinned faces placed on top of yours.

Is extremely overprotective of you and always keeps her eye on you at all time.

Calls you her precious little baby and coddles you with hugs and kisses much to your discomfort.

Always defends you whenever Doctor Futterman ever says anything mean or negative about you. Please don’t hurt my baby’s feelings she’s a good girl…

Loves to constantly examine and look at your teeth to make sure they’re nice and clean, can’t have any cavities!

Sings lullabys and tunes to you and forces you to dance with her. Though it’s hard to keep focus with that puppet’s drill constantly ringing in your ears.

Hates seeing you cry. Always wipes your teary face and promises to always keep you happy.

“Why must you cry sweetie?”

“PROBABLY BECAUSE SHE’S EMBARRASSED TO HAVE YOU AS A MOTHER HA!”

“Now now daddy, that wasn’t very nice.”

Having to deal with the arguing between her and her “father” has put your head in a spin. One moment Gooseberry is smothering you with her love and words of affection and in the same moment you’re being called every derogatory name and word in the book by that damned goose puppet.

If any other reagent gets too close to you or even tries to touch you Gooseberry would not hesitate to carve a new smile on their faces.

At a certain point she insists you’re too vulnerable for others and locks you away somewhere in the trial grounds where no one could find you.

Trying to escape had only gotten you severely punished as she would cry and wail for you if she sees you’re gone. If she catches you escaping she’ll say to herself you’re probably just confused and you didn’t mean to actually run away from mother.

“Why would try to run from mother dear? Don’t you love me?”

Punishment for escaping would be letting you starve by having no food for a day or a forceful and painful examination on your teeth with no anesthesia or any numbing.

“I know it hurts darling, but it’s for your own good.”

Though when it comes time to eat for real she’ll strap you down into a makeshift high chair and forceful spoon feed you much to your embarrassment.

“Can you open wide for mommy? Here comes the airplane~.”

“AND TRY NOT TO MAKE A MESS YOU DUMB SOW!”

She’ll always have a new game for you to play with her consisting of mostly hide and seek. Though in reality it’s you actually trying to run away from her but she always ends up finding you. Patty cake is very obsolete however.

She’ll gift you with dolls and teddy bears left around the trial grounds for you. Even though the toys themselves are always disheveled, broken and dirty but in her mind she sees them as perfect presents for you.

She tells you the dingy children mannequins around the Amusement Park and Orphanage are your younger siblings and that they make good company for when she’s not around to tend to you.

Essentially just treats you like one big infant with the constant cooing, cheek pinches and words of affection. She even tucks you in you and reads you bedtime stories. Most of which are just her making up grim stories with her “dad” commentating and cracking jokes at how his daughter tells the story just leaving you confused and both mortified by how twisted both of their minds are. Although it mostly just one insane mind let’s be real.

You basically lost all hope and courage trying to leave her or escaping. All you can do is just let this insane woman coddle and suffocate you with her love. All your energy has been sucked out of you dry, all you can do is just smile at her with tears in your eyes. This is your life now.

I..l-love you m-m-mommy….”

[criminalmutantsins]

MK1 Johnny Cage (Song) Headcanons

I was inspired by @mothercetrion headcanon on Johnny’s past. You should visit their page and read some of their posts. They are very well-written! I like to connect songs with characters so I thought doing a headcanon post with songs would be a good idea. I’m also working on a regular headcanon post for Johnny as well. I love his MK1 version and feel the need to write about it. Lmk if I should make a Spotify playlist so all the songs are in one place.

TW: Heavy angst (Mention of bullying, alcoholism, parental abuse, domestic violence, and broken marriage)

I Started a Joke by Bee Gees 

- “I started a joke. Which started the whole world crying. But I didn’t see. That the joke was on me, oh no. I started to cry. Which started the whole world laughing. Oh, if I’d only seen. That the joke was on me.” 

Unfortunately, I firmly believe that Johnny was bullied and abused in his childhood. Most people who have an egotistical facade usually create that personality to protect themselves from horrible treatment. Johnny mentioned having daddy issues and an asshole brother he barely(if any) has contact with. I think his dad and, later, his brother tormented him for a long time, which I will further explain in another song. I want to focus on school bullies. Johnny seems to have always wanted to be an actor, so I think he focused on the performing arts like theatre, singing, and dancing. Sadly, it's not considered masculine to do those activities- a prime target for bullying. This treatment causes Johnny to feel like a joke to everyone. 

- “Til I finally died. Which started the whole world living. Oh, if I’d only seen. That the joke was on me.” 

This meant figuratively that Johnny’s original personality “died” and was replaced by his well-known facade to protect him from the bullying and stop him from feeling the pain. 

Blown Away by Carrie Underwood

-“Dry lightning cracks across the sky. Those storm clouds gather in her eyes. Her daddy was a mean old mister. Mama was an angel in the ground.” 

Johnny notices his parents’ turbulent relationship. His dad is an awful man and his mom is a kind person being tormented by her husband.

-“She heard those sirens screaming out. Her daddy laid there passed out on the couch. She locked herself in the cellar. Listened to the screaming of the wind. Some people called it taking shelter.” 

Johnny’s hiding from one of his parents’ violent arguments. His room is his hiding spot- a shelter and a prison- but it doesn’t protect him from hearing the arguments. The sirens are symbolic of Johnny’s mother since she used to be a police officer (an intro with Li Mei confirms it), so she is screaming at Johnny’s father who loves his life drinking and sleeping. 

-“There’s not enough rain in Oklahoma. To wash the sins out of that house. There’s not enough wind in Oklahoma. To rip the nails out of the past (blown away)” 

The awful memory leaves Johnny wishing that his childhood home could be destroyed with no trace, though he knows it will never erase what he’s gone through.

Numb by Linkin Park

- “I’m tired of being what you want me to be. Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface. Don’t know what you’re expecting of me. Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes. Every step that I take is another mistake to you (Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow).”

Johnny was abused by his father. He was pressured to be like his dad but would make “mistakes” (be himself), leading to his father lashing out at him. His dad is obsessed with masculinity and being a “traditional” man, which he pushes into Johnny. This puts them at odds since the performing arts (Johnny’s aspirations) are not considered masculine. 

- “I’ve become so numb. I can’t feel you there. Become so tired. So much more aware. I’m becoming this. All I want to do. Is be more like me. And be less like you.”

The constant pressure makes Johnny numb to the abuse and more aware of his father’s behavior. He wants the opportunity to be himself and the weight to lift off him. 

- “Can’t you see that you’re smothering me. Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control? ‘Cause everything that you thought I would be. Has fallen apart right in front of you.” 

He’s questioning his father’s behavior and needs to control him and the rest of the family (his mother and siblings). 

- “And I know. I may end up failing too. But I know. You were just like me with someone disappointed in you.”

Johnny fights back and decides to break the generational trauma cycle he and his dad have unwittingly been trapped in. His dad was in Johnny’s position and hated it, but decided to continue the cycle rather than end it.

Applause by Lady Gaga 

- “I stand here waiting for you to bang the gong. To crash the critic saying, “Is it right or is it wrong?” If only fame had an I.V, baby could I bear? Being away for you, I found the vein, put it in here.”

From some of his intros, Johnny sometimes gets defensive whenever anyone talks down about his career, and the first thing he brings up is how he makes his fans happy with his work. This makes me believe that Johnny loves his fans and they are the biggest reason he stays in Hollywood.

- “I live for the applause, applause, applause. I live for the applause-plause, live for the applause-plause, live for the way that you cheer and scream for me. The applause, applause, applause. Give me that thing that I love (I’ll turn the lights out). Put your hands up, make ‘em touch, touch (Make it real loud). Give me that thing that I love (I’ll turn the lightd out). Put your hands up, make ‘em touch, touch (Make it real loud).” 

For the first time in his life, Johnny is appreciated for his aspirations and it feeds into his need to feel wanted and accepted. He wants the applause and love to grow. 

- “I’ve overheard your theory, ‘Nostalgia’s for geeks.’ I guess sir, if you say so, some of us just like to read. One second I’m a Koons fan, suddenly the Koons is me. Pop culture was in art, now art’s in pop culture, in me.” 

Since Johnny is inspired by 80s action stars, critics condemn him for not being authentic. Johnny doesn’t care and, because of the love he gets, he considers himself to be a part of pop culture. 

Liability by Lorde 

-“Baby really hurt me, crying in the taxi. He don’t know me. Says her made the big mistake in my storm. Says it was poison.” 

This reminds me of Johnny’s chapter where Steven- the director- whom Johnny might’ve considered a friend, doesn’t seem to like him and purposefully distances me. This makes me believe that Johnny doesn’t have many friends because they don’t like his boastful, outgoing personality. 

- “So I guess I’ll go home. Into the arms of the girl that I love. The only I haven’t screwed up. She’s so hard to please, but she’s a forest fire.”

 With not having many friends and his marriage on the rocks, Johnny feels alone and feels he can only count on himself. Based on his intro with Kenshi about doing forty takes, it seems like Johnny is a perfectionist, so it wouldn’t be surprising if that sentiment extends to everything he does. That’s why he has this facade where he constantly inflates his ego and his capabilities because, on the inside, Johnny is hard on himself and has trouble finding his good qualities. 

- “They say “You’re a little too much for me. You’re a liability. You’re a little much for me.” So they pull back, make other plans. I understand, I’m a liability. Get you wild, make you leave. I’m a little much for everyone.” 

Johnny accepts that he’ll never have a true connection with someone, so he makes them leave sooner before they hurt him. 

- “The truth is I am a toy that people enjoy. ‘Till all of the tricks don’t work anymore. And then they are bored of me. I know that it’s exciting running through the night, but every perfect summer’s eating me alive until you’re gone. Better on my own. They’re gonna watch me disappear into the sun. You're all gonna watch disappear into the sun” 

This pertains to Johnny’s faltering career. He was a popular actor for a long time until it ran dry. It eats him up to see people- fans, his wife, and Hollywood- grow bored and annoyed with him. By the end of his chapter, he’s alone and feels hopeless. 

Midnight Rain by Taylor Swift 

- “My town was a wasteland. Full of cages, full of fences. Pageant queens and big pretenders. But for some, it was paradise.” 

Johnny’s world is Hollywood and the American dream. He wants to be the biggest star and feel at home in the acting business. 

- “My boy was a montage. A slow motion, love potion. Jumping off things in the ocean.”

I see Cris as someone who wanted a simple life full of love and family. She was supportive of Johnny’s dream but didn’t have his drive to live the Hollywood life. She expected Johnny to settle down once his career dwindled. 

- “He was sunshine, I was midnight rain. He wanted it comfortable. I wanted that pain. He wanted a bride. I was making my own. Chasing that fame. He stayed the same. All of me changed like midnight.” 

Johnny and Cris are different people with opposing goals. Cris wanted a comfortable life and Johnny to focus on their relationship, while Johnny was consumed in his dreams and staying relevant. 

- “It came like a postcard. Picture perfect, shiny family. Holiday, peppermint candy. But for him it’s everyday. So I peered through a window. A deep portal, time travel. All the love we unravel. And the life I gave away.”

If one of them conformed to what the other wanted instead of compromise, they would’ve given away their dream life and lost their love. 

- “I guess sometimes we all get just what we wanted, just what we wanted. And he never thinks of me. Except when I’m on TV. I guess sometimes we all get some kind of haunted, some kind of haunted. And I never think of him. Except on midnights like this.” 

By the end of their marriage, Johnny and Cris barely connect with each other. Cris lives her own life and only sees Johnny when his movies are on TV. Johnny is so busy with work and doesn’t focus on his personal life until he’s home late at night.  

Anti-Hero by Taylor Swift 

(This kind of continues my thoughts from “Liability” by Lorde.) 

- “I have this thing where I get older but just never wise. Midnights become my afternoons. When my depression works the graveyard shift. All of the people I’ve ghosted stand there in the room. I should not be left to my own devices. They come with prices and vices. I end up in crises (tale as old as time). I wake up screaming from dreaming. One day I’ll watch as you’re leaving. ‘Cause you got tired of my scheming (for the last time).”

Even though Johnny knows his career is dwindling, Johnny continues to work and revive it- something Hollywood people would consider unwise. His fears and depression leave him up at night and thinks about the people who left him and people he had to step over to make it in showbiz. His deepest fear is everyone he cares about- Cris and his fans- leaving him because they become bored of him. This is where he develops his alcoholism (this will be explained in another song). 

- “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me. At tea time, everybody agrees. I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror. It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero.”

Johnny knows his alcoholism is messing up his relationship with Cris but is scared of facing it, making him the anti-hero in the story. 

- “Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby. And I’m a monster on the hill. Too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favorite city. Pierced through the the heart, but never killed.” 

It goes with how Hollywood works- younger, prettier actors have a higher standing than older actors. Johnny feels like people see him as a monster who ruins things, but they aren’t willing to “kill” his ambition. 

- “I have this dream my daughter in-law kills me for the money. She thinks I left them in the will. The family gathers ‘round and reads it and then someone screams out. “She’s laughing up at us from hell.” 

Johnny fears his ambition will kill him and that the people who don’t care about him will take advantage of it. 

Rehab by Amy Winehouse 

- “They tried to make me go to rehab, but I said, ‘No, no, no.’ Yes, I’ve been black, but when I come back, you’ll know, know, know. I ain't got the time and if my daddy thinks I’m fine.” 

Cris is trying to get Johnny to go to rehab for his alcoholism, but he refuses because he wants to focus on reigniting his career and he reasons that nobody else is concerned. 

- “I’d rather be at home with Ray. I ain't got seventy days. ‘Cause there’s nothing, there’s nothing you can teach me. That I can’t learn from Mr. Hathaway.” 

Johnny wants to continue working and being at home. He doesn’t think he has a problem and, if he did, Johnny doesn’t think anyone can help. 

- “The man said ‘Why do you think you are here?’ I said, ‘I got no idea.’ I’m gonna, I’m gonna lose my baby. So I always keep a bottle near. He said, ‘I just think you’re depressed.’ This, me: ‘Yeah, baby, and the rest.’”

Johnny goes to a therapist (Cris gave him an ultimatum). The therapist tells Johnny that it’s just depression and to stop drinking. Johnny can’t seem to stop because drinking takes away the pain he’s feeling. 

- “I don’t ever wanna drink again. I just, ooh, I just need a friend. I’m not gonna spend ten weeks. Have everyone think I’m on the mend. It’s not just my pride. It’s just till these tears have dried.”  

Johnny hates drinking but feels like it’s the only way to escape his loneliness and stress. He’s scared that his career will be over and his fans will leave him if he goes to rehab. 

Hollywood by MARINA 

- “American queen is the American dream. American queen is the American dream.”

This is the mantra Johnny says to motivate himself to continue his career.

- “I asked her ‘Why would you wanna be a Hollywood wife?’ ‘Because I don’t wanna end up living in a dive on Vine.” 

Johnny doesn’t want to live a life less than his dreams. He’ll do anything to live his dreams. 

- “Trying to stimulate a mind. That is slowly starting to decay. I itch my skin, I jump up and say. Lady, I know why your thoughts turn gray.”

Exhaustion and alcohol are infecting Johnny’s brain and dulling his thoughts. He’s barely present in his personal life- marriage and home. 

- “Hollywood infected your brain. You wanted kissing in the rain. Oh oh, (I’ve been) living in a movie scene. Pukin American dreams. Oh oh, I’m obsessed with the mess that’s America. I’m obsessed with the mess that’s America.” 

The price of striving for fame is catching up to Johnny, yet he’s willing to ignore it due to being obsessed with his desires. 

- “A fat security making plays for me. As soon as I touch down in, old L.A., he said… ‘Oh my god, you look just like Shakira. No no, you’re Catherine Zeta.” Actually, my name’s Marina.”

This is a reference to how Hollywood has a surplus of stars that can overshadow each other. Since Johnny is no longer a big star, people mistake him for a lookalike. His individualism in the industry is dying.

Oh No! by MARINA (& The Diamonds) 

- “Don’t do love, don’t do friends. I’m only after success. Don’t need a relationship. I’ll never soften my grip. Don’t want cash, don’t want card. Want it fast, want it hard. Don’t need money don’t need fame. I just want to make a change. I just wanna change.”

Johnny’s obsession evolves into him ignoring everything- his relationships and income- to maintain and grow his success.

- “I know exactly what I want and who I want to be. I know exactly why I walk and talk like a machine. I’m now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy. Oh! Oh no! Oh no! Oh, no, oh!”

His singular goal can be compared to a program, making Johnny out to be a machine. He’s also realizing that his alcoholism is leading him into a similar path to his father’s. This could be seen as a self-fulfilled prophecy because children usually copy their parents’ behavior, even the bad ones, and the phrase “like father, like son.” It terrifies him. 

- “One track mind, one track heart. If I fail, I’ll fall apart. Maybe it is all a test. ‘Cause, I feel like I’m the worst. So I always act like I’m the best.”

Johnny wonders if his downfall is karma since he had to step over people to build his career or a test of his character. The last two lines reference his feelings of inadequacy due to his childhood and the birth of his movie star persona.

- “If you are not very careful. Your possessions will possess you. TV taught me how to feel. Now real life has no appeal. It has no appeal.” 

In his chapter, Johnny tells Cris that they can’t cut back on cash because acting like a success makes people perceive you that way. This shows how Johnny's spending habits are consuming him. 

During his childhood, Johnny coped with his father’s abuse and his mother working all the time by watching TV. TV raised Johnny, and it made his reality- good or bad- unappealing. 

- “I’m gonna live, I’m gonna fly. I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna die. “I’m gonna live, I’m gonna fly. I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna die, die, die, die, die.” 

Johnny identifies failing as dying and succeeding as living. He thinks retiring his career will kill his confident persona and revert him to the sad child he was. 

Are You Satisfied? By MARINA 

-“I was pulling out my hair. The day I got the deal, chemically calm. Was I meant to feel happy that my life was about to change?” 

Because of his health issues- alcoholism and depression, Johnny is starting to feel numb towards his work, to the point where getting a role doesn’t excite him. 

-“One life pretending to be the cat who got the cream. Oh, everybody said, ‘Marina is a dreamer.’ People like to tell you what you’re gonna be. It’s not my problem if you don’t see what I see. And do not give a damn if you don’t believe.” 

Johnny is reminded of the people in his childhood who called him a dreamer and tried to tell him what he should do with his life. He never saw why his life was anyone’s problem. 

-“My problem, it’s my problem. That I never am happy. It’s my problem, it’s my problem. On how fast I will succeed. Are you satisfied with an average life? Do I need to lie to make my way in life?” 

With no big payoff, Johnny starts to ponder if an average life will satisfy him and make him happy. If not, does he have to start lying to himself and others to continue his Hollywood life. 

-“High achiever, don’t you see? Baby, nothing comes for free. They say I’m a control freak. Driven by a greed to succeed. Nobody can stop me.”

One of his intro with Kenshi has the latter complaining about doing forty takes with Johnny arguing that the shot has to be perfect. It lead me to believe that Johnny is a perfectionist since he is driven by his need to succeed. 

-“Cause it’s my problem if I want to pack up and run away. It’s my business if I feel the need to smoke and drink and sway. It’s my problem, it’s my problem if I feel the need to hide. And it’s my problem if I have no friends and feel I want to die.” 

Johnny realizes his problems yet doesn’t push himself to get the help he needs. He thinks no one except him could handle his issues. Johnny feels that it’s his fault that he let alcohol control his life, has depression, and has no friends. 

-“Are you satisfied with an easy ride? Once you cross the line, will you be satisfied? Sad inside in this life, unsatisfied, prayin’. Sad inside in this life, unsatisfied, waitin’.” 

He wonders again whether regular life with more simplistic issues will satisfy him and if he should cross the line and consider letting go of his career. The difficult decision makes it more despondent and he prays for an answer. He finds his answer by the end of the game- to step back from the industry for a while and focus on his personal life.  

The Reason by Hoobastank 

-“I’m not a perfect person. There’s many things I wish I didn’t do. But I continue learning. I never meant to do those things to you. And so, I have to say before I go. That I just want you to know.” 

After going through therapy, training at Wu Shi Academy, and the Outworld adventure, Johnny realizes his mistakes and wants to apologize to Cris before they go their separate ways. 

-“I’m sorry that I hurt you. It’s something I must live with everyday. And all the pain I put you through. I wish that I could take it all away. And be the one catches all your tears. That’s why I need you to hear.”

He realizes the full extent of pain Johnny put her through. He’s remorseful and wishes he could go back to listen and comfort her. 

-“I’ve found a reason for me. To change who I used to be. A reason to start over new. And the reason is you. I’ve found a reason to show. A side of me you didn’t know. A reason for all that I do. And the reason is you.”

Johnny wants Cris to know how much he’s grown and will be a better person. Although sad it had to come to it, Johnny thanks Cris for letting him go since it led him to get the help he needed and continue to heal old wounds he kept hidden. 

..................

BONUS (These songs are from Cris’ point of view to Johhny.): 

All I Wanted by Paramore 

- “Think of me when you’re out, when you’re out there. I’ll beg you nice from my knees. And when the world treats you way too fairly. Well, it’s a shame I’m a dream. All I wanted was you.”

Every time Johnny leaves for his hours-long shoots, Cris hopes he thinks of her, but knows that she’ll always be second to his career. Although their marriage was always on her mind. 

- “I think I’ll pace my apartment a few times. And fall asleep on the couch. And wake up early to black-and-white reruns. That escaped from my mouth.” 

When Cris is alone, she wanders through their house and watches movies. She mostly watches Johnny’s movies to fill the hole of him not being with her most of the time. 

- “I could follow you to the beginning. Just to relive the start. And maybe then we’d remember to slow down. At all of our favorite parts.” 

Cris would do anything to have a semblance of their old relationship- before Johnny got famous- back. She hopes that if it happens then Johnny will be more attentive, and they can live a happy life. 

Call Me When You’re Sober by Evanescence 

- “Don’t cry to me, if you loved me. You would be here with me. You want me, come find me. Make up your mind.” 

Cris is frustrated with Johnny and tells him that if he loved her then he would pay attention to her and her needs instead of his career. 

- “Should I let you fall, lose it all. So maybe you can remember yourself? Can’t keep believing. We’re only deceiving ourselves. And I’m sick of the lie. And you’re too late.” 

Cris contemplates letting Johnny’s alcoholism overtake him since he never listens to her advice on going to therapy or rehab. She also thinks that letting him fall could bring back John Carlton, the man she fell in love with. 

- “Couldn’t take the blame, sick with shame. Must be exhausting to lose your own game, selfishly hated. No wonder you’re jaded. You can’t play the victim this time. And you’re too late.”

Cris is tired of being responsible for Johnny's health and reducing his problems to inconveniences. She wants him to stop playing the victim and take responsibility because she can’t take care of him anymore. 

- “You never call me when you’re sober. You only want it ‘cause it’s over, it’s over.” 

Their relationship only revolves around Johnny’s career and alcoholism instead of their love. 

Losing Grip by Avril Lavigne 

-“Are you aware of what you make me feel? Baby. Right now I feel invisible to you, like I’m not real. Didn’t you feel me lock my arms around you? Why’d you turn away? Here’s what I have to say. I was left to cry there. Waiting outside there. Grinning with a lost stare. That’s when I decided.”

Cris is frustrated at Johnny being distant and inattentive. It makes her feel invisible and unimportant in his life. She questions why he acts this way when he should be treating her like his wife. It leaves her feeling desperate and lonely, but she hides it with a smile. 

-“Why should I care? ‘Cause you weren’t there. When I was scared. I was so alone. You, you need to listen. I’m starting to trip. I’m losing my grip and I’m in this thing alone.” 

Cris wonders why she’s even staying in the marriage. She’s scared of losing Johnny to his alcoholism and his obsession with work; as well as the financial troubles that were accumulating. Instead of listening and being there for her, Johnny decides to ignore the problems, making her feel alone in their marriage. 

-“Am I just some chick you place beside you to take somebody’s place? When you turn around can you recognize my face? You used to love me, you used to hug me. But that wasn’t the case. Everything wasn’t okay.”

Cris starts to think Johnny only wants her around to fill a role anyone can take such as a caregiver (not his intention). She sees Johnny’s eyes go through her like she’s a stranger and he rarely gives her affection. Unfortunately, Johnny’s exhaustion from working and alcoholism affects his ability to focus on what’s going on around him. 

-“Why should I care? ‘Cause you weren’t there. When I was scared. I was so alone. Why should I care? If you don’t care then I don’t care. We’re not going anywhere.” 

Cris continues pondering about their marriage, though it ends with her deciding that she’s exhausted her commitment to the marriage and has to leave before it further destroys her.

[hopelessromanticstrawberry]

obscure memories

when we watched scarface together, u me and ur friend, it was like a cocaine game. every time this or that snort a line. then it became a competition bc coke was ur drug of choice, and i wasn’t even paying attention just lost in the sauce bc we had so much blow it didn’t matter. then my palms started sweating like crazy, i was shaking, i felt my breathing switch to manual and my heart palpitated so loudly it echoed against my skull. i tapped out first and sat trying to focus on the movie while quietly wondering if i was about to overdose, id just gone line after line after line without stopping to let it hit. it was terrifying and exhilarating. I thought after about people who get addicted to the feeling of almost dying.

triple pressed 6mg xanax. your roommate gave it to me as a way of asking if it was cool to take u to the casino 2 hours away. I was supposed to be sober-ish, xans weren’t really allowed atm bc I had almost OD’d at a party and took like 8 when no one was watching me. I got so excited, tried to play it cool, but he knew I was feening. You looked pissed off but tucked me in and put on Blue Planet as I started to get high. Drifting off was so peaceful and blissful. I woke up hours later when you got home, I was still high and when you crawled into bed it was so warm and felt so safe. I smiled like an idiot and passed out again.

The first time I tried cocaine I was 19. The plug came over, it was super lowkey and felt like I was intruding but he was really gentle spirited despite how scary he looked. You let me snort coke right from the brick, it was to date the purest blow I’ve ever had and nothing will ever compare to it. I was instantly euphoric and horny to the point I could’ve had a girls gone wild moment I didn’t even care. You had a rule to not fuck on drugs so we didn’t but I wanted to so badly I could barely act normal, it was almost embarrassing. I was numb for hours, tingly and happy… like a straight shot of serotonin right to the brain. Funny how in less than a month we were doing blow again to go grocery shopping

The first time I smoked weed I was between 2 of my guy friends smoking me up for the first time, ironically both of them were trying to court me. I was supposed to go to the other guys house but something came up and I was bitching about wanting to smoke to the other one, he says fuck it come over right now and we can smoke. I remember hitting the bowl and it was instantly like the rising feeling of being at the top of a roller coaster. I was immediately giggling about everything. We sorta hangout and I can’t stand to look at him because he’s honestly scaring me while I’m high, but everything else is amazing. He had these bricks at the front door and I dumped out a cup of water on it “as a joke”, honestly he got pissed and it was really confusing for me when I was stoned. I went home with bloodshot eyes late late at night, avoided my parents and went upstairs put my headphones on went to sleep. It was a school night but I didn’t come home till late most nights anyways. We started smoking every day after school and I’d smoke with my neighbor otw to school. Another friend brought edibles in and shared them with the lunch table. It was unfortunate because if I hadn’t gone and smoked at that guys house I wouldn’t have been r*ped by him later on, I wouldn’t have been his girlfriend. I made the wrong choice smoking with him so often and letting him learn how to manipulate me. The second I gave in I lost all my power. Could have avoided so much mental illness if I’d never moved in with him.

Painkillers… so weirdly the first times I got high on pain pills I was only 12 or 13, I was still at the age where I played sims on the family computer for hours… I was on my period and it was so severe (and they are so severe) my dad gave me Tramadol, im allergic to all nsaids except Tylenol so he really did me a solid there. I didn’t really react in any type of weird way but zoned into the games happy and chillin, my period cramps came back 35 minutes later but I was still a little litty. I ended up taking a nap on the guest bed with my cat. Later I’d do them a few more times but as an adult, my dad was addicted so it was a mental block where I was actually nervous to take them as an adult. I remember taking Vicodin and Percocet in the summer at your friends house, I always wanted to get more after and you always told me no. I don’t have strong recollections of what happened when I was high maybe I nodded, but I liked the euphoria I felt so at ease and like I understood the world. I felt childlike wonder again. We watched all 3 Austin Powers movies smoking blunts to the face high as fuck, I was so giggly and happy and felt so good. I literally at one point thought “ I get it dad this shits awesome “ I looked at u guys and loved u guys, felt like u were the best friends I’d ever have in that moment. Everything was fuzzy and bright, colors were so vivid, I felt fuzzy n warm inside … I loved it sm

[rheagodlywrites]

After the Matter

Rottmnt Donnie x fem! reader

Donnie calls you to the lair to help him with wounds after the Kranng is gone. After getting Leo inside and fixing him up, you look to Donnie who’s still bleeding under his shell.

Main inspiration from @happyfoxx-art

Part Two

The boys hugged each other crying as they almost lost Leo for good.

"Let's never do that again," Raph says. The others nod in quiet agreement.

"Yeah. How could you guys live without me?" Leo joked. Leo smiles but immediately starts coughing horribly. Mikey panics as the group hugs breaks. Raph holds Leo up as he coughed.

"What hurts?!" Donnie asks. Leo waves him off.

"I'm fine. Just a flesh wound." Raph looked to Donnie, unsure what to do.

"Can you check him?" He asks worried. Donnie furrowed his eyebrow, pulling down his goggles.

"Sure I can..he says unsure. This isn't really my thing.." Donnie looked at Leo and scanned him over briefly. His goggles had picked up several dangerous wounds on Leo and that wasn't even all of it.

"Well good news, his ego isn't damaged..." Donnie started. Leo smiled weakly lifting his fist.

"Woohoo.." He tiredly cheered.

"But that's possibly the only thing unmanaged. You've got so many wounds externally that I don't even want to imagine what your internals look like." Donnie finished with a tense look on his face. Mikey had called for April and Splinter but Donnie had a person that would know how to handle wounds like this in their sleep. Although this was possibly not the best time to bring her. After all she might freak out more than anyone else.

"Leo?! LEO!" Raph yelled at Leo as he started to zone out and close his eyes.

Donnie inhaled quickly and put his arm under Leo.

"Mikey get his other side! We gotta get him to April and Dad!" The two of them walked Leo to the van that April had borrowed. They put Leo in the back and April drove to the lair in the abandoned train station they called home. Splinter talked to Leo to try to get him to focus on staying awake.

"Raph. Raph!" Donnie snapped his fingers as Raph zoned out for some reason.

"Huh?" Raph was slightly dazed as he was still coming from deep thought.

"Let me patch you up.  You're bleeding all over the place and the last thing we need is for you to get some alien infection we can't cure." Raph nods understanding the intensity of Donnie's words.

"Right but shouldn't you be helping Leo? He's doing worse than any of us." Raph looked to Leo who was counting with Spinter and telling the story of how things were in the other dimension.

"I want to. I really do but I can't help him here. Our best bet is getting back home and taking care of him there. Now you mentioned your arm feels numb or it's buzzing?" Donnie's words were clear and cut like a knife but maybe that's what they need.

Raph nods and sits down so Donnie can patch him up.

"He may have nerve damage." Leo points out. Raph perked up and tried to get Leo to focus on anything else.

"Let him tell me what to do. He needs to stay awake anyways." Leo told Donnie in a weak voice to clean his wound and if it's still bleeding to apply pressure but not so much that he somehow makes it worse.

"Now you gotta..."Leo hisses in pain as April goes over a slight bump.

"Sorry!" April calls back to them.

"You gotta check his eye." Donnie was going to but Raph gently pushed his hand away from his face.

"I can wait. It doesn't hurt that bad so I don't mind." Donnie frowns at his response but it's not like he's really in a spot to stop him.

"Ok then. Let me know if it gets worse. Mikey, come here so I can help you out." Mikey shook in his seat up front as he focused on the road. He didn't want to move.

"Come on Mikey, We can't let your wounds get worse." Donnie said. Mikey got up from the front seat and allowed Donnie to help him out.

"Now would really be the best time to call her..I'll call her when I'm done." Donnie mutter to himself as he took Mikey's hand.

Donnie did his best to take care of his brothers in the van but the real challenge was handling Leo in the med station. When they get back to the lair, Y/N was waiting with Casey in the lair.

“Oh my god. All of you are incredibly injured! Casey! Help Donnie get Leo into the med station!” Y/n was a special case. She was someone that Donnie held near and dear to his heart. Loving her with all of his being even if he was awkward with her. However there was one thing that was special about her. She was a human born and raised in the hidden city, due to this she grew up with mystic powers…healing powers. She can quiet literally see the injuries on someone and can heal that injury. It drains her though, making her very tired. She joined the boys in the med bay as Donnie scanned Leo to look over his injuries. Y/n stood next to Donnie and started mumbling to herself about the damage.

“How bad is it?” Donnie asked. She looked to him with a deep frown.

“It’s worse than I originally thought. Fractures, internal bleeding,and so much more.” The scan came up on Donnie’s screen and it almost made the poor turtle vomit. His brother was one misstep from critical condition.

“I’m so glad that I called you,Love.” Donnie whispered. Y/n raised an eye brown at him. Donnie ever called her nicknames unless something was seriously wrong. Y/n glanced over him and realized that his shell had rips over it. Even though his battle shell hid the cuts, the faint white glow was easy to see to you.

“Lets put his arm back in place and handle the smaller injuries. Leo,I need you to stay so very still.” Y/n held Leo’s arm and Casey held Leo’s shoulders to prepare him. Y/n forced his arm back in place. Leo cried out in pain briefly but his strife was not going to end any time soon. Casey and Y/n sewed up the minor cuts and bandaged the things that needed it. Donnie unfortunately kept disassociating in the process.

“Donnie? We need you to help Leo hold still while Casey does his leg.” Donnie nods and Leo is steadied by Don. Y/n activated her powers to heal his bone as Casey took care of his leg. They just had to ignore Leo’s screams. Once they finished, Donne backed away from the three of them.

“Don?” Y/n wondered. She watched him shake his hands and pace in the small room. His whole body was shaking from the possible overstimulation.

“Dee, I’ll be ok with them. Go ahead and take care of yourself.” Leo did his best to keep his voice low. Donnie nods and races out the room. Leo looks to Y/n with a frown on his face.

“Go take care of him.” Y/n nods and goes after Donnie. Y/n knew Donnie’s condition wasn’t good but she didn’t realize that he’d been suppressing his own emotions just to help his brothers.

As a side note: for those of you that have been sending this fic to @happyfoxx-art. I’d like to formally apologize about the unintended copycat work. This was mainly a collaboration between a friend of mine and me. Had no idea that their comic was a thing. Again I’d like to apologize for this.

[slowpoke-fics]

Sacrifice

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Pack x Reader

Request Summary: You're Scotts twin sister and make a sacrifice for the good of the pack

Warnings: death, panic attack, angst, murder described, death described, reader death; I know for a fact I've missed some and this one is pretty fucking rough, as always read at your own risk.

A/N: This one is angsty, and just a tad longer than normal, consider it my apology to nonnie for taking so damn long on this request. I hope you guys love it, and again, this one is rough, read at your own risk.

You're able to grab one of the fucking resilient demonic ninja's off of Isaac. You could smell his pain, his blood, and you could smell Allisons determination. The second one on Isaac was shot with Allisons arrow, it's glowing green, fighting with the clear pain it's experiencing. With a split decision you're next to Allison, pushing her out of the way, a sharp pain through your chest, and then you're numb.

Allison's face is rampant with fear, her shirt holding a tiny cut that didn't grace the skin. Good, she's okay, and then you're falling.

You don't hit the ground though, your brother, Scott, holding your face with a stray tear falling down his face. You reach up and wipe it away, "It's okay Scotty, it doesn't hurt." Scott chokes back a sob, his hand gently rubbing yours, "Is everyone else okay?" Scott starts to speak, his voice betraying him, sounding mangled, "Yeah, everyone is okay Y/n, you're gonna be okay too." You shook your head, "Not in the way you think I am," Scott finally releases a sob, "no, no, big brother," he tries to laugh, trying to give you a little peace with your joke that even though he's minutes older, he's still older, "it's okay, yeah? Me and you, fighting tooth and nail. This was the best gift I could've ever gotten, I love you, and I love the pack. This is okay." You reach behind him, fingers tangled into his hair, you pull him to you and kiss his forehead. "Don't let them blame themselves, and don't blame yourself," another kiss to his cheek, "I love you big brother."

Scott's memories with you flashes before his eyes as the color in yours goes out, how did we get here?

"Scott! You okay?" You look over his body for injuries, he hisses at you making contact with his torso. "Scott, what's wrong? Did you get bit by something too?" Scott's eyebrows raise, "What do you mean 'too'? Did you get bit?" You roll your eyes and turn around, shirt stained with blood, "Yeah, I managed to get away from the fucker while rolling down some hill, now let me see yours." You swat him away, lifting his shirt and taking a good look at the bite mark, "Okay, not too bad, you fix me up and I'll fix you up? Not a word to mom, got it?" Scott nods, walking with you into the house to take care of the bite marks.

Scott can't feel anything, surrounded by you, your lifeless body. His anger, no, pain, soars through him as his eyes glow, a roar deep within him. The only thing anyone in his pack can hear is the scream from Lydia's lips and the roar of pain from Scott.

Isaac barely notices the sound around him, only his own heartbeat in his ears as he listened to yours fade away.

"Isaac you fucking idiot!" You slapped Isaac on the back of the head, he looks at you with lost, glowing, puppy dog eyes, "Sorry, Y/n." His eyes dull to his normal brown and you frown, "You've gotta do better honey, you can't lose control like that, you'll kill someone and I know that's not what you want." Isaac sits on the metal bench in the locker room, head in his hands, "I don't know that I'll ever be able to."

You sigh, sitting next to him with your hand rubbing his back, "You will, just give it time, until then, you've gotta find something that works for you, something that prevents you from breaking someone fucking ribs Isaac." You voice becomes elevated again towards the end, irritated at Isaac's recklessness. "Yeah," he leans his head down to your shoulder, "I know firecracker."

Scott is blind to the feeling on his bloody hand, only noticing it when Allison's tears hit it. Allison brushes a hair out of your face, you looked peaceful, she's eternally grateful for you, for what you did for her tonight and what you've done for her up until this point.

"Allison, fuck," you huff, pulling yourself up from the ground, "let's do it again, I know that this isn't you, your aim is perfect, let it all go and focus on me okay?" She sighs, shaking the bow in her hand, "Maybe the fact that I could actually hurt you isn't helping." You're eye to eye with her, both hands on her face, eyes glowing, "No, you won't hurt me, I'm invincible remember?" She laughs, shaking her head, "Alright, last time." You grin ear to ear and took off running. Allison brings the bow up, listening to you run. She sees glimpses of you, through the trees, and the arrow is gone. She sighs, she didn't hit you, she's shouting at you "I told you! I can't do it!"

You touch her back, startling her, she lets out a small yelp and turns to you. Her eyes go wide when she sees the arrow sticking out of your shoulder. "Oh, Jesus Y/n," her bow drops and she's bringing her hands up to try and get it to stop bleeding. "Oh quit being a pussy and pull it out," you rolled your eyes, grabbing her wrist and bringing it to the arrow in your shoulder. "I'm so sorry I hit you-" she pulls it out and you let out a long groan, already feeling better with the object dislodged. "Don't be sorry, you hit me, let's do it again." Allisons eyes widen, if that's even possible, and shakes her head, "No, absolutely not." You laugh, "Lighten up buttercup, I'm invincible remember? And this time I'm not going easy." She scoffs at you, "Easy? Oh I see how it is, run little wolf, run." With that, you take off running, Allison laughing at your excitement.

Kira is frozen, she feels like she died, you were her best friend. Over anyone else, you'd been the first to accept her, the first to fight for her, the first one she'd confided in.

"Kira, what the hell are you saying?" You're sitting with your arms crossed at a picnic table, nose in your homework. "I-I know that we were friends first, so I was going to tell you first, before I said any-" You slam your hand one the table, "Kira, baby, spit it out, fuck." This is the you realize that Kira's scent holds fear and anxiety. "Kira, what's wrong?" You're more serious now, waiting for the bomb to drop that there's another fight to be had. "I like Scott, like like him, Jesus please don't be mad." You burst into full laughter, tears streaming from your eyes.

When you calm down Kira is staring at you, piddling with the strings on her sleeves. "Oh, my god," you laugh again, trying to calm yourself. "You're not mad?" You laugh harder, smacking the table a few times, "Jesus Christ no, I can't believe-" you stand up still laughing, hugging her. "I don't give a shit," rubbing her back, "you had nothing to worry about, as long as you don't get mad if I fuck your dad." Kira jerks back, shock on her face, "Y/n!" You laugh harder, "I'm fucking kidding, jeez," you sit back down, "fucking sit down and gush to me about my brother."

She shakes herself out of it when she feels her mother enclose her in a hug. Tears finally falling.

Lydia's scream has finally ended, and she's inconsolable. Memories flooding through her head as she lays her head on an unconscious Stiles.

"Lydia god dammit," you truck to the pool, "did you find another one?" You stop at the strong scent of blood, rushing to Lydia, Stiles right behind you. "Are you hurt?" Lydia shakes her head, staring at you, "I already called 911." Stiles looks hurt, arguing with Lydia over why she should call him before the police, but you push him to the side. "Heya honey," you wrap your arms around her waist, "it's okay, don't listen to Stiles grumpy ass, let's me and you go sit." You're not sure why you aren't phased by the body next to you, but you let Stiles do whatever he needs to do for Scott while you try and get Lydia's head back down to Earth.

"Hey Lyds, dontcha think you're a little overdressed to come to the pool?" She lets out a small chuckle and you relax a little, "This can't be my new normal, Y/n. Finding dead bodies? I can't take this." You hold her hand, sighing, "None of us asked for this Lydia, I'm so sorry. If you want I can stay with you for a few days, follow you if you zonk out again?" Lydia just nods, and she feels for the first time that you're as much her best friend as Allison.

Lydia can't stop crying, Scott is trying to get ahold of himself, Kira is crying with her mother, Isaac is breathless and in pain, and Allison is held by her father.

"She did it for me dad," Allison sobs, her father already made sure she wasn't hurt, "she did it for me and I don't know why." Chris shushes her, running his fingers through her hair, grateful for your sacrifice so his beautiful girl could live. "She did it because she loved you," Allison sobs harder, "I know sweet girl, but listen, we have to deal with this. You can cry, scream, break things later, but now? Now we get our stories straight." Allison nods, and her dad is off to Scott to prep him.

When Stiles finds out, it's like every cell in his body failed him. Scott caught him and pulled him into a hug, tears streaming down his face. "I know. I know brother." Stiles can't breathe, it's been a long time since he's had a panic attack, but here he is, without you, panicking.

"Stiles," you sigh, throwing a ball against his ceiling and back into your hand, sprawled out on his bed, "you've gotta stop." Stiles shakes his head, "No, no there is something here!" He tosses the books to the floor, you get off the bed, wrapping your arms around him from behind, "You'll find it but you're not going to without sleep. Come on." You tug him back to his bed, "Let's nap, and then we'll come back to all," you gesture to his board covered in multicolored string, "this." Stiles sighs heavily, letting you pull him to the bed. It's not the first time, and certainly wouldn't be the last, that you've convinced him to sleep. He crawls in next to you and you throw your arm open, allowing him to lay his head over your heart. He falls asleep to the lull of the thump thump thump.

Stiles shakes himself out of the memory, remembering that he'll never hear that beautiful sound again and vows to hold onto it. He lets out a pained, choked sob, "Scott-" Scotts arms are around him still, Scott can smell the guilt coming off of the small man, "Don't - It was not your fault Stiles. It wasn't anyone's fault." Scott lets Stiles cry, mourn his best friend, the woman he's come to love like his own sister. "Have you told Derek?" Scott sighs, Stiles already knows the answer.

When they get to Derek's place, Derek opens the door, already smelling them and their horribly displaced emotions. "What is it?" Scott lets himself in, Stiles following close behind him and he's checking for his little flame, and when you're nowhere to be found, his heart sinks. "Where's Y/n?" Derek can smell the grief coming off of Scott in waves, not missing the anger that hides beneath it. "Fuck, my little flame," his voice sounds broken, barely audible to the human boy who stares sorrowful at him.

"Derek Hale!" You kick the door open to home, "Derek Hale! Get your ass out here!" Derek almost materializes behind you, but you're just as quick as he is. "Derek Hale! I oughtta kill you, you son of a bitch!" You march to him, taking him off guard by your fist that collides into his face. He's knocked back a couple feet, staring at you with glowing eyes. Your eyes match his, "I am not afraid of your eyes, wolf boy! You turned three people!" Derek shrugs, "So what if I did?" You go for a second punch, this time caught by Derek, he can't smell a single ounce of fear, only fury.

"They knew what they were getting into," Derek lets go of your hand. "Oh, fuck you, Derek," you shove him back, "you can spin that stupid story to whoever you want, but you and I know better." Derek shrugs, "So what? They're better now, stronger, and they like it." You let out a deep growl, "Did you tell them about the death?" You step forward towards him, "Did you tell them how they'd be pulled into every murder in this town?" You shove him back again, following his step backwards, "Did you tell them of the pain? Did you? Of course not." Your hand grasps his chin, squeezing painfully with your claws out, making him look at you, "Hear me Derek Hale and hear me good. If anything," you squeezed him harder, bringing a hiss from him, "and I mean anything, happens to them, I will hurt you." You back away and head out of his house, stopping at his door, "And trust me, I'm a fire you can't put out." He laughs, watching you walk away, but mumbling just where you can barely hear, "I have a feeling I don't want to be burned by your flame."

A growl explodes from his lips, pain filling his entire being. You've been the glue that holds them all together, bringing them back from the brink again and again. How could they survive without you?

Months after your death, they've settled back into the groove of things, nothing ever feels the same without you though.

They talk about you all the time, Stiles has a tendency to try and calm people down like you did. Trying to help keep everyone grounded. He's nowhere near as good at it like you were, but he's trying. Allison keeps your memory around by never changing her lock screen, a picture of everyone in the pack resting on the screen she checks every five minutes. Isaac has found a new anchor, with Scott's help, using himself to be able to control the rage that flurries inside of him after your death. Lydia lives for adopting your fire, absolutely never keeping her mouth shut much to everyone's dismay, but it's a way to keep your image around. Kira has become closer to Allison and Lydia, but she knows they'll never replace you. They don't laugh at her like you did when she talks about Scott, and it's a painful memory. Derek's become much more involved with Scott's pack, dedicated to doing what he can for not fighting by your side the right you died, a debt he'll never repay. Scott finds his peace in his pack, but the hole in his heart for his sister will never fade, like the newly placed fire tattoo on his forearm will never fade.

They are all eternally grateful.

They all know it'll never be the same.

They all hate your sacrifice.

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Ghost Story - Chapter 38

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 1586

Warnings: Swearing, allusion to suicidal tendencies

Summary: No one will miss a ghost. It'd been a running joke for as long as anyone could remember, something Ghost herself started, and she always said it with a smile on her face or with mirth in her voice. The untouchable stealth pilot in every sense of the word, no one could've predicted the depth of her turmoil over recent events, nor the extremes she would go to in order to protect the man she loved, not even those closest to her. Now, all that was left of the young aviator for Maverick, Hangman, and Rooster were the memories of the past, which would slowly fade with time. She'd come into their lives and made an unforgettable impression, and then, like a ghost, she was gone... Then again, ghosts can't die a second time.

Notes: None

Chapter Songs: Stay Fire Away

****

Rooster

For the second time in his life, Bradley found himself drifting toward the snowy ground of enemy territory, except all he could focus on was not his own safety but the smoldering remains of two trashed fighter jets, their wreckage so mangled, Rooster couldn't determine which belonged to Ghost and which to the enemy. When his feet hit the ground, he detangled himself from the parachute and ran as fast as his legs could carry him through the deep snow to the first plane. Upon reaching it, the frazzled pilot had trouble figuring out which end was the cockpit, but it didn't matter because Bradley found the burned, motionless body in the remnants of the wreck. The fire destroyed any evidence of who it might be, so Rooster had no idea if he was looking at the dead body of the enemy or Ghost.

There's still another wreck. Please let it be hers. Please let her have survived this. Rooster pleaded silently, setting off again with a massive effort. He sprinted to the next crash site. If possible, this one was in even worse shape than the last. If the pilot of the previous one hadn't survived, then this one certainly hadn't, especially if they hadn't ejected. Rooster scanned the charred remains, searching for any sign of Ghost. He was about to give up when he saw it.

The dagger.

Somehow, miraculously, it'd survived the air collision and the fiery crash into the ground. Rooster sank to his knees and picked up the weapon with a trembling hand. He flicked the blade out and, in doing so, revealed the name 'Ghost' in cracked transparent letters on the relatively pitch-black handle. This was her crash site. 

Rooster closed the dagger and clutched it in his hand, tears burning the backs of his eyes. With no one but God as his witness, Rooster screamed, letting loose his agony, despair, and pain. He'd lost his dad, his mom, Charlie, and Ice; he'd damn near lost Maverick; now, he'd lost Ghost. How would he recover from this? She died believing herself to be at odds with him, with Hangman... she died believing she had no family left, that that somehow made her life less valuable than others. But if Rooster understood anything in his life, it was that family wasn't always blood. Family was the people who were there for you through thick and thin, who didn't leave when you were at your worst, at your lowest point in life. Ghost had been his family. She'd been Hangman's family. She'd been Bryn's and Maverick's and Penny's. 

"I'm sorry, Annalise," he choked out. "I'm so sorry. You-"

Rooster trailed off, the knot in his throat and the numbness in his bones destroying any and all functioning abilities. All Rooster could do was stare at the plane's wreckage, the final resting place of Ghost and his heart.

His eyes trailed from the wreck to the black smoke rising into the brutally cold, cloudless sky. Through it all, he caught a glimpse of something orange in the distance between the dark tree trunks. It struck Rooster as odd. In the middle of Russian territory, with nothing surrounding him but a small field in the middle of a giant forest, there shouldn't have been anything other than white, green, and blue. So what was it? Unless...

Slowly, with a Herculean effort, he stood and cautiously began the trek toward the unknown object, not daring to hope that it could be what he thought it might. However, as he got closer, he saw the orange color belonged to a piece of fabric, and one he recognized all too well. 

A parachute.

Could it be...? A flicker of hope rose in his chest, and without considering the fact it may belong to the enemy, Rooster raced over. There, slumped against a tree motionless, was Annalise Winchester. 

"Ghost," he breathed, dropping beside her. He ripped off his glove and pressed two fingers to her neck, checking for a pulse. While he could feel one, Rooster couldn't decipher if it was his own or hers. After all, his heart thundered at a dangerous speed. If it went any faster, it might burst. He grasped her shoulder instead, gently shaking her. "Ghost, can you hear me? Ghost? Come on, don't do this to me. Give me a sign you're alive. Please don't die on me. Don't..."

The smallest of groans escaped her lips, causing Bradley to breathe, "Oh, thank God."

He removed her helmet before cupping her face. "Ghost? You with me?" he asked anxiously, watching her eyes strain to open. "Hey, hey, hey, stay with me. Look at me, okay? Look at me!"

Ghost's eyes fluttered open, slowly lifting to meet his. Rooster let out a shaky, relieved breath, unable to believe that, against all odds, Ghost had survived the crash. Maybe her words held some truth: ghosts can't die a second time.

"Rooster?" she murmured, slowly becoming more alert.

"Yeah, it's me. I've got you," he said weakly, pulling Ghost into a hug and burying his face into the crook of her neck, unwilling to let her go. "I'm here."

"Bradley..."

He reluctantly pulled away, figuring she needed air to gather her senses without him smothering her. "Hmm?"

Ghost stared at him for a few seconds, analyzing the situation before her. In the blink of an eye, he saw the realization hit her, and with a shake of her head, any trace of disorientation disappeared. 

"What the hell are you doing here?!" she demanded, whacking him so violently and unexpectedly on the chest, it sent him off balance and toppling onto his back. "You should be back on the carrier by now!"

Oh, she and Maverick have to be fucking related somehow. Rooster thought, her words too much of an eerie, albeit irritating, echo of the precise thing his dad had said when Rooster saved his life a few months ago. Rooster angrily pushed himself up, snapping back, "What did you expect me to do? Leave you here to die?"

"Yes! You think I took out that plane so you could be down on the ground with me?"

"For your information, I got shot down by a different plane!"

"What do you mean a diff- we got all of them," Ghost interrupted, shaking her head.

"Obviously we didn't because it popped up out of nowhere like a God damn Jack-in-the-box."

Ghost grabbed her left wrist, wincing as she massaged it, but her voice was full of concern when she said, "Tell me you couldn't escape it. Tell me you didn't let them shoot you down on purpose."

Rooster stayed quiet, unable to bring himself to give her a truthful response. His silence gave her the answer anyway. Bowing her head, she hissed, "God... damn it, Rooster. I promised Maverick I'd get you back alive!"

"And I promised myself I wasn't leaving here without you, so either we both get back alive to Maverick, or we die out here together."

"Don't say that. Don't say we'll die to- what were you thinking?"

"I wasn't."

"Obviously!"

"I couldn't leave you, Ghost. I couldn't turn my back on you again. Look, when we get back, I swear I will leave you alone for good," he replied dejectedly, heart breaking at the idea of doing so, "but for now, we need to figure out how we're going to get out of this."

"You don't get it," she said sadly. "No one's coming for us. There's no enemy base nearby that we can sneak onto and steal a plane. I'm not Maverick. I can't pull a miracle out of my ass to save us, so our only options, as far as I can see, are we're either captured by the enemy or die in the cold."

"Was that your plan, then? To die here?"

"I wasn't planning on dying today," Ghost retorted sharply.

"But? I know you, Annalise. I know there's a 'but' at the end of that statement.

She hesitated momentarily, then sighed and said softly, "But I wasn't planning on making it back alive either. I heard hypothermia is a painless, relatively peaceful death. If I somehow survived the crash or managed to eject in time, the elements would get to me sooner or later. I could just... go to sleep and never wake up."

Rooster's shoulders sagged, a horrible question rising in his head: she may not have planned on dying that day, but did she want to? He couldn't bring himself to ask it, afraid of her possible answer. He scanned the surrounding forest, searching for something, anything, that might be of help to them. He found nothing.

"I'm sorry, Bradley," Ghost whispered. "I should've done more. If I had paid more attention and hadn't gotten hit by that stupid AA gun-"

"It's not your fault. That hit was one in a million. Here." Rooster handed her dagger over. "I found this at your crash site."

Ghost took it with a shaky hand. "I can't believe it survived. I-"

She stopped abruptly at the sound of a jet roaring overhead. Rooster looked up at it too. He didn't recognize it as one from their carrier, meaning only one thing: "That's an enemy plane."

The couple watched it descend behind a low mountain and disappear for good. Ghost stood up, wincing. "It must've returned to base. I don't remember that being in the briefing, though."

"Maybe it's a hidden base?" Rooster suggested.

"Only one way to find out. Let's go."

****

Tags: @supernaturaldawning @shanimallina87 @polikszena @lgg5989 @callsign-milano @bradshawsandbridgetons @harper1666 @shadeops21 @double-j @copaceticwriter @rotating-obsessions @sharkprestige @thedarkinmansfield @lapilark @mickeyluvs @starshipfantasy @bennypears00 @mandowife221b @the-navistar-carol @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @carmellasworld @0hb0llocks @nicangelinee @summ3rlotus @3picklesinajar @magentamistress @the-other-hawkeye @elisha-chloe @emilymarie105 @persephone11110 @luckyladycreator2 @boogdleyboo @k0k3 @bibissparkles @lilmonstrjedi @stinkyrat09 @cocoag19 @suburbzchick @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @goodstuff28 @georgiasimpson95 @horselovers2016 @tanithpriad125 @davidshawnsown @sowolfstudentme @agagafafa @callmemana @sec17 @brxklyn15 @h0ppy0the0sheep @tomanybandstolove @abigailannz @mini-bee-bee @super-btstrash-posts

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23Chp 24 Chp 25 Chp 26 Chp 27 Chp 28 Chp 29 Chp 30 Chp 31 Chp 32 Chp 33 Chp 34 Chp 35 Chp 36 Chp 37 Chp 38

[forrestfanfics]

So This is Love || Age of Ultron 7: “NEOMA’s First Friend”

“So This is Love” Masterlist

Previous Chapter  ||   Next Chapter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Purple.

A big purple mass floating in space was what I had opened my eyes to.

My body spun slowly in front of it. Eyes, reflecting the bright hues of purple and tiny waves of black.

It was like the sun with its wavy exterior, buzzing the loudest buzzing I've ever heard. Although, it didn't affect me much negatively.

It was alluring… Enticing…

My hand reached out, only to find it was much further than I thought.

I couldn't move closer when I tried.

What was this?

Why was it here?

Why was I here in space with it?

Whatever it was, I found myself wanting to get closer. To touch it. I had to. Why wouldn't it let me?

Before I could further contemplate, my eyes blinked open.

The sight of my dad's face was the sole focus of my gaze as the rest of the world slowly faded into view.

“Hey, little Neoma, we're here,” he patted my knee which I fully felt. The numbing and the pain had gone away.

“Where?” I asked groggily, rubbing my eyes to help them adjust to the bright sunlight leaking through the Jet's opening.

“Come on,” a hand landed on the small of my back as I was led out of the ship.

I immediately stopped in my tracks at the scenery in front of me.

A small two-story house in an open field surrounded by nature.

Speaking of, instead of dirt, my feet were met with cold spiky stuff in the ground. I noticed the grass painting the land as far as the eye could see.

The sky was so clear and the air was so fresh.

My breathing hitched. It was so strange to see a normal-looking house. I'd been so used to living in a tall building surrounded by other tall buildings that seeing this small, secluded home generated an error in my system.

“What's up?”

I turned to my dad and shook my head. “Nothing… I just… This is very weird to me,” I admitted, looking back at the house.

“You got a thing for small, cosy houses, Rapunzel?” He joked, following the rest of the team as they walked in a line towards the door.

I wouldn't mind living like this…

I quickly shook my head before I got too comfortable and caught up with the group.

“What is this place?" Thor asked as we stepped onto the porch.

"Safe house," my dad answered.

"Let's hope," Clint, who had his arm around Nat's back, pushed the door open, allowing everyone to flood in.

My brain instantly shut down as I stepped into the foyer.

The wooden doors with the tainted glass were a huge contrast to the minimalistic, monochrome ones back at the tower. And the lamps and ceiling lights were much different than the built-in lighting, I simply clapped my hands to turn them on and off.

The space was much more cramped than the wide, spacious hallways and rooms that were a pain to forget something in.

It was so different… So small… So homey…

"Honey?" Clint called out. "I'm home."

A lady came into the kitchen we were standing in.

She dressed differently, too. Rather than the fancy suits, blouses, and dresses I'd seen, her clothes looked more comfy and loose.

"Hi," Clint greeted.

She looked confused. The materials in her hand were put down.

"Company. Sorry, didn't call ahead," Clint approached.

The lady met him halfway, greeting him with a quick kiss on the lips.

"This is an agent of some kind," my dad said, clearly in denial of Clint having a woman.

"Gentlemen, this is Laura," Clint turned to us.

The lady waved. "I know all your names," she chuckled.

I light up slightly. "Even me?" I asked with awe in my eyes. She lightly giggled and nodded. "Y/N, right?" It was the first time anyone outside the tower knew who I was, and I loved it.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. "Ooh, incoming," Clint took his arm off his wife and knelt as two small beings came running in.

"Dad!" The smaller one hugged him.

I jumped back into my dad in surprise.

"Hi, sweetheart! Hey, buddy!" Clint lifted the little one and hugged the other one.

"Dad, those are tiny people," I whispered, reaching back to hit his chest.

"These are… Smaller agents," he coughed.

Children. Other than myself, I've never seen another child before. Let alone two of different ages.

All of this was a lot to take in.

How much else was I missing?

"Did you bring Auntie Nat?" The little girl asked as she was put down.

Nat's attention was called, and she smiled, "Why don't you hug her and find out?"

The little girl ran into her arms, lifted once again as Nat carried her away.

"Sorry for barging in on you," Steve spoke.

"Yeah, we would've called ahead, but we were busy having no idea that you existed," my dad commented.

"Yeah, well, Fury helped me set this up when I joined," Clint explained. "He kept it off S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files. I'd like to keep it that way. I figure it's a good place to lie low."

Thor's foot collided with something, shattering it into bits. It looked like a toy house made of colourful bricks.

"How come I never had any toys?" I asked, looking up at my dad, who met my gaze and shook his head.

"You have Pompom," he said.

"You mean the first and only toy you bought me in my entire life?" I deadpanned.

"What about the Stark bots?" He shrugged.

Banner laughed at that. "Those weren't toys, Tony. You gave your eleven-year-old daughter high-tech nanobots that could only do one thing," he chimed in.

I laughed with him. "Yeah, Dad. Tiny robots that teach me the periodic table every day until I could recite every element, it's atomic weight and number, and electron configuration is not a damn toy."

"Don't say 'Damn.' And you made sure it was a toy by fiddling around with the remote until it could make the bots take the shape of a sword," my dad countered.

"You really should be careful about what you teach your kids at a young age," Banner joked.

Our conversation was cut short when the sound of Thor's hammer whirred in the background.

We peeked out the window in time to see him flying away.

"… So… You got powers?"

I tore my gaze away from the window and shrugged at Banner. "Apparently."

●    ◉    ◎    ◈    ◎    ◉    ●

"And this is my newest. She doesn't have a name yet."

How exactly did I end up in Lila's bedroom playing tea party with her dolls? That I had no clue.

But I'd be glad to say this was better than helping my dad and Steve who were chopping some wood outside or sitting awkwardly as the third wheel with Nat and Bruce or Clint and his wife.

Cooper wanted a turn with me, asking me to race him on bikes, but I was too embarrassed to admit that I had no idea how to ride one in the first place.

So naturally, I went with moving shrunken plastic people and pretending to have a tea party with them.

"She looks like you. How about I name her Y/N?"

I almost dropped poor Lili with an I. Not to be confused with Lily with a Y as Lila scolded me earlier.

"That would be very confusing if we had the same name," I tilted my head at her, carefully setting down Lili against one of the chairs.

"But I really like your name. It's very pretty. Would you be angry at me if I named her Y/N?" Lila pouted playfully.

I shook my head with a small smile forming on my face. One that I struggled to hold back. "Fine. But if I ever get confused, that's on you, buddy," I pointed a finger.

"You already aren't doing a good job with Lily and Lili," she giggled, holding out the Y/N doll to me.

I took it from her grasp and looked down at doll Y/N.

She did look a lot like me. Same h/c hair, same pale —From the lack of sunlight— s/c skin, same e/c eyes. A ridiculous coincidence.

"This is almost creepy," I mumbled as I pushed the doll's hair back to see her clothes better. Not an outfit I'd wear.

I looked back up at Lila, who was focused on brushing Lily's hair.

Another smile crept up on my face.

Is this what it would be like to have a sibling?

My heart ached in my chest as I began to imagine what it would be like to live a normal life in a house like this and with a proper family.

I could already see it. Me, dad, Pepper if that works out, a little sister or brother, living in a house surrounded by nature.

I glanced down at doll Y/N.

Maybe if I grew up like that, I'd be wearing clothes like this, I'd let my hair grow like this, I'd wear makeup like this.

I internally scoffed at the idea, but it got me thinking regardless.

"Do you have any dolls? Or are you one of those girls who like boy things?" Lila asked, resting her elbows on the wooden table between us.

That was adorable. "I never had toys. I have one. A stuffed Pompompurin my dad got me in 2007. He's my best friend... My only one, actually," I admitted, putting doll Y/N down on the table.

"You only have one toy?" Lila groaned, laying her head on the table. "Your dad sounds boring."

I laughed. "Yeah. Richest man in the city and he can't even get me another toy. He's pretty lame, even for a superhero."

"You can have one of mine," Lila perked up, stumbling up from the floor and across the room.

"Wait, no, it wouldn't be very nice of me to take one of your toys," I said quickly as she rummaged through her things.

She paused and popped her head out from within her toy chest. "I can give you a small one!"

Before I could answer, she fished out a small yellow blob and climbed out of the chest.

A small bumblebee plush landed on my lap.

"It's an offering of friendship. Now we're friends," she smiled, holding out her pinky finger.

Something bloomed in my chest, making me feel something new. I didn't know what it was, but I knew I was happy at that moment. My first friend.

I held the bee close to my chest and reached out to link my pinky with hers.

"Yeah. Yeah, we are."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙀𝙉𝘿. ҂ 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢

request:

Hi!! Idk if you’re taking requests rn lol but I was wondering if you can write a clay imagine? It can be smut or anything lol

pairing: dream x fm!reader

warnings: nsfw (18+ minors dni), smut, calling dream clay, cliche apocalypse au, blood, kinda sad ngl

word count: ~3000

links: ao3

a/n: Hi everyone. I have no idea what this is, but if you like it let me know! I was struggling with coming up with something for dream but here we are on a crackpot tangent. N E WAY, thank you for all your support and requests! Have a great week and happy reading ♡ ᵍᵉⁿᵉ

Soapy bubbles clung to your arms as you pressed your hands into the hot water, sighing as you reached the bottom of the sink. You didn’t care about the murky discoloration of the water from the stack of dishes you had just polished off. You attempted to let the stress of your day roll off your shoulders to mix into that same water. Call it a baptism, but the solace you got standing before the sink, pouring your emotions into the dark, louring water was comparable to nothing. The radio buzzed with slight static as the station attempted to break through the heavy interference.

That was until three long pulses echoed over the station, making your skin crawl as if an unseen force were intruding on your alone time. You stood up straighter, water dripping down your arms and splashing on the linoleum floor beneath you as you listened to the grizzled news broadcaster read from an obviously unedited announcement. The world outside of your apartment seemed to still, silence echoing through the streets where shrilling sirens lived only moments before.

“Breaking news… NASA has just verified that the mystery asteroid is, in fact, in danger of crashing into the Earth… As of this moment-” His voice cut out, your radio buzzing into static. In a panicked effort, you vaulted across your kitchen, slipping on the dishwater in the process as you tumbled to the ground. Before the pain could set in, you climbed to your feet, smacking your hand atop of the radio. It finally crackled back to life as you twisted at the dials feverishly. “... three days. To repeat, there is a countdown on the NASA website… take shelter when the time nears.”

Your ears rang alongside the three pulses to indicate the message was over. You were in denial, figuring there was no way this asteroid was actually going to obliterate the Earth. Surely, it was a joke. Everyone had been making memes of the space rock since it was picked up on NASA’s radar a month prior. Surely, this was just a test.

You waited for the city to come back to life, but everything remained still. After everything you’d all been through in the last year, an asteroid was going to be the end.

A sharp and urgent knock hammered against your door, making you jump a few feet in the air. Before you could move to see who it was, the person was already through the threshold. You peered around the corner of the kitchen and down the hall, your gaze meeting a pair of dark green irises. Clay’s towering figure stalked toward you, his eyes brimming with tears and panic. He pulled you into his embrace rather hurriedly, as if he’d been itching to wrap around you before he broke down.

The hint of cologne clouding the air around the two of you suggested that he was on his way out. As your hands followed their muscle memory to grip onto his clothes, he dug his face into the crook of your neck. It was becoming clear that even if you weren’t responding to your best friend’s need, he was going to take it from you.

He pulled away from you slightly. Your mind had gone completely silent as he looked at you, his attention struggling to focus on one part of your face. Your body felt numb and your tongue had gone dry. His gaze traveled towards the ground and he stepped back slightly, worry spreading across his features as he clamped his hand around your forearm.

“Why are you bleeding? What happened?” His voice cracked slightly as he dug into the drawer beside you to find a towel. You furrowed your brows before finally catching sight of the blood seeping from your arm and between his fingers. His hand was large enough that it nearly served as its own bandage.

He tugged you behind him towards your bathroom. “I fell…” You mumbled, your mind now racing with questions. Why couldn’t you feel the cut? Or his hands? He pushed you upwards to sit on the bathroom counter, his crimson hands shaking slightly as he rinsed them off. Your fingers tightened around the towel holding your wound together. As he focused on the task before him, he seemed to calm down ever so slightly. He rolled his head on his shoulders and took a deep breath to steady himself as fished through your First Aid kit.

“I was on my way to Nick’s and I heard the news. I’m…” He brought his arm up slightly to brush away a few tears against his shoulder. He pulled open a package with his teeth. You watched him carefully as he worked to clean you up. His blond locks hung over his eyes, curling around his ears and twisting about as he focused and you could almost hear his mother’s voice telling him he needed a haircut.

Your chest ached. “Clay, I think I’m having some kind of a breakdown,” you mumbled, your own eyes prickling with tears as he looked up at you quickly. Usually, you were the one that kept it together. It had been like that since the two of you were teenagers. Despite the fact that Clay’s tall, muscular stature gave off the appearance of an intimidating being. In actuality he always let his emotions get the best of him, leaving you in charge of being the rational one.

But as he patched up your arm and struggled not to fall apart, the reality was settling in to weigh heavily on your shoulders.

He began to talk softly to you---much like you usually did for him---making sure his touches were delicate and slow. While his hands were coarse from years of football and building decks with his dad in the summers when the two of you were younger, they were so tender when dealing with you. He cradled you as if you would break at the slightest flex of his finger.

“Why didn’t you just go to Nick’s?” You asked him once he’d finished bandaging your arm and had begun rewashing his hands. The scarlet water in the sink looked almost surreal after you’d been staring so long at the caliginous dishwater. He rested his hands on the edge of the sink, his eyes flashing up to look at himself in the mirror before chewing on the inside of his cheek.

Your hand traveled up his arm, his skin warm beneath your touch as you tugged on his bicep to bring him closer to you. He moved to wrap you in his embrace once again, his breath melding into your hair as his fingers closed around the fabric of your shirt. “I’d rather spend the end of the world with you,” he barely whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder softly.

You pulled away from him gently, his forehead moving to rest against your own. One of his hands moved to brush into your hair, his fingers finding purchase against your neck. The familiar smell of smoky vanilla and sage seeped into your mind at his closeness. You thought about your first kiss shared in “the name of science,” after you turned fourteen. Clay had been so awkward in his body at that time; his hair shaggy, stretch marks along his knees from his growth spurt, and a growing realization that you were in fact, a member of the opposite sex.

The Clay before you, even in his state of anguish and anxiety, stood with a cockiness that that Clay couldn’t have even dreamt of. His thumb glossed over your jaw, his eyes cast down as if his mind was wreaking havoc on his movements. Cautiously, you leaned towards him, sealing the space between the two of you as your lips pressed against his. The air of catastrophe seemed to dissipate around you as he pulled you tighter against him. The taste of mint and a faint whisper of fruit from the gum he always chewed blended against your tongue. Your arms moved to wrap around his waist, wanting him pressed to you as close as he could be.

He wrapped his hands around your thighs, pulling you up and into his arms as he made his way to your bedroom. As your back hit the mattress, Clay’s lips were back on yours, your fingers slipping beneath the hem of his shirt to tug the fabric over his head. You sighed as he hesitated before nipping at the skin of your collarbones, his tongue ghosting against any mark that formed on your skin from his teeth. You drove your hands into his hair, your fingers locking around the slight curls forming. He pushed your shirt off and you wiggled out of your sweatpants.

His hips dug into yours, the friction bringing a lazy smile to your face as you bit your lip. You tugged on his hair, making him moan into your ear to mix with his motions. “I want you, Clay,” you stated, your voice falling from your lips in a slightly deeper tone, your breathing uneven with passion. He moved to look into your eyes, pausing for a moment before his hand slid between your waistband and your hip to remove your underpants. It was clear that even as the timer clicked away the minutes the two of you had together, you wanted to savor him. If the world ended now as the two of you were in each other’s embrace, you would be fulfilled.

He smirked slightly at your words, his lips finding your neck once again. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear that,” he moaned, pressing a kiss behind your ear. He slunk down to press his lips against your stomach, moving slowly up your body to bury his face in your hair, grinding his hips against yours. You fought not to roll your eyes as you hooked your fingers through his belt loops, pulling his pants off. He pressed his lips against yours, humming into the kiss as you wrapped your leg around one of his. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, grinding against him.

As Clay pushed himself into you, your whole body relaxed as if he were made for you. He dug his face into the crook of your neck, letting you adjust to him. You hummed slightly, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as he began to move. He gripped the edge of the mattress beside your head as he leaned his weight on his forearm, the angle bringing your thigh to rest against his side. You wrapped your arm around his shoulder, bringing your hips up to move with his. “You’re so beautiful…” he mumbled, his lips brushing against your collarbones again as his thrusts into you became deeper.

You began to feel every inch of him in you as his hips ground against yours. Clay’s lips left yours to press against your jaw and your ear, one of his hands interlocking with yours, binding the two of you further together in the act. It was his carefulness of your forearm that sent a shock wave through your body as you were bitterly reminded that instead of a lifetime of cherishing moments like this, the two of you were cursed into his disaster arc.

His hand pressed into the mattress, fingers curling around the sheets as you pulled him down to you again, his lips melding to yours. You groaned, finding your sweet spot as he did so, making him pick up his pace. His other hand pressed against the side of your neck, bringing your skin closer to his lips as he pressed open mouth kisses to the landscape of your neck, thrusting into you and making the tension in your body tighten with pleasure. Your arms moved to wrap around Clay’s torso, pressing your lips against his shoulder as he moved. Your toes curled as you finally reached your orgasm, calling out his name and feeling him release as well, riding out your pleasure.

As you laid beside him, he played with your fingers, the quietness between the two of you nearly comforting. There was almost the question of “what now” hanging in the air.

A knock came at your door once again, your heart dropping slightly at who the person could be. You shot a look to Clay before pulling on one of the discarded shirts and your shorts from earlier. Your apartment was cold after being in bed with Clay, the air nipping at your skin and sending a shiver down your skin. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the billboard beside your window had the countdown displayed in heavy red numbers. You swallowed your uneasiness and opened your door.

Nick stood before you, his eyebrows slightly perked at---what you could only assume---your unkempt appearance. He wet his lips briefly. “Dream’s here right?” He asked, peering over your head a bit. You silently opened your door completely, letting him inside. Clay came out of your bedroom, tugging a hoodie over his head that he had previously shoved in one of your drawers. As Nick eyed him, it seemed like he’d forgotten whatever serious matter he needed Clay for. Instead of the skittish expression, Nick’s face twisted into a knowingly smug quip.

Clay ran his fingers through his hair, moving down the hallway and into your kitchen. “What’s up?” He queried Nick. You followed the two of them as Nick began to ramble about the end of the world.

Your chest tightened at his words as you took a seat at your kitchen counter. Clay uncapped a beer, leaning on the marble across from you. “There’s a bunker nearby. It belongs to some random old guy but I know some people who can get us a spot,” Nick muttered almost as if he were worried your neighbors would hear and sabotage his plans. He looked between the two of you quickly. “I think it’s worth a shot.”

You watched Clay closely as he thought, his expression nearly blank due to his somberness. You could practically hear the clock ticking away outside as the red light began to seep into your apartment. Clay chewed the inside of his cheek. “What do you think?” He asked, suddenly breaking the deafening silence and turning to you. “I wanna go where you go.” He looked almost like a child as he said this, but you were grateful he wanted to be with you in the end.

You tore your eyes from him, focusing on the ring forming in your sink from the dishwater that you hadn’t had the opportunity to drain. Your mind raced with the possibility that Nick was offering. “What’s the worst that can happen? We’re dying anyway, right?” You responded wearily.

And that’s how you found yourself packed into an underground shelter, Clay’s body pressed against yours as nameless people crowded the dense area. Nick huddled against the two of you, the asteroid’s timer serving as a foreboding heartbeat as it reminded you all that these were the last moments of your life. Clay’s arm tightened around your shoulders as you buried your face in the softness of his sweatshirt. Your legs were going numb from sitting on the ground with your knees folded to your chest, but you didn’t dare move from his grasp. Nick’s side dug into your own as he attempted to shrug away from the hysterical woman beside him whispering to herself.

Only the mumbling of prayers and lamenting sobs broke up the lulling music playing over a small Ham radio resting on a bookshelf in the corner. The tune reminded you of an eerie scene in a movie from the ‘60s. As the song faded, a newscaster began to discuss the timer, wishing that everyone was with loved ones and had spent the last of their money.

And then the final ten seconds came. Your fingers threaded with Clay’s as he pressed a lasting kiss to your forehead.

“... Nine. Eight…”

Nick leaned into you. The two of you had never really been close, but on your journey to the bunker, he'd become a companion to you just as much as he was Clay's.

“... Seven. Six…”

You let your mind travel to your past, prom in particular. When Clay shut the skirt of your dress in his passenger door by accident. You were so mad at him for finding humor in the situation.

“... Five. Four…”

You thought about the week prior when you were considering skipping a lecture because you were tired. What you wouldn’t give to go back to the simplicity of problems like that.

“... Three. Two…”

You hugged Clay tighter to you, hoping that if you both got blasted into whatever kind of eternity was waiting, you’d land at the same time.

“... One.”

Everyone seemed to hold their breath, even the newscaster. The silence was painful as you all waited.

Clay and Nick moved quickly, looking around the room. You furrowed your brows at them, your grip tightening around the front of Clay’s sweater. “Do you hear that?” Clay stated, his voice coming out rushed. Nick nodded, watching as the rest of the men in the bunker began to talk amongst themselves. You couldn’t hear anything, worry settling.

“What?” You asked, barely above a whisper.

Clay pushed himself to sit up away from the wall, dragging you up with him. “How can you not hear that?” He urged mildly. Fear began to pick at your nerves as you noticed the same reactions filling the shelter. Nick stood up, following some of the other guys who heard whatever they were talking about. Clay slipped from your grasp. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered and you grabbed his hand. His eyes flashed a different color as he looked at you.

A few of the women followed the group, attempting to get their companion’s attention before one of them opened the shelter door.

[genshingarbage]

Don’t Say Goodbye. || One-Shots ||

I am just in a mood to create broken hearts right now it would appear, this is just a few one-shots on a couple of the boys and my take on how they would act with there s/o dying in their arms due to various reasons based on the character i am writing for. - Mod Diluc

Diluc

The sound of yells grew distant as the vision began to blur from your eyes. The only sensation you could still feel was the tight grasp of your hand in the larger one wrapped round it squeezing it. Diluc was holding you as you laid there on the muddy dirt, resting your bloody and broken body on his legs. Cradling you like a new born while shaking back and forth, trembling in traumatic disbelief over what was taking place before him.

His eyes were swelling with tears threatening to break out and spill down his cheeks, he kept kissing your weak hand gently, each kiss being dragged out longer than the one before, shaky shushes passing his lips in a frail attempt to soothe your weakening body. You'd been adventuring alone again for several weeks away from Mondstat and The Dawn Winery.

You didn't think much of it as you often left for long adventuring trips, bringing back goofy and silly souvenirs for your beloved Diluc, you just didn't realise this time around you'd be ambushed by the Fatui on your long trek back to his winery. Having been unbeknownst to you fatally wounded, you managed to break free and escape, bleeding heavily from your right side, shakily sprinting to the only place you knew could be a safe haven, Dilucs winery.

You'd fallen to the ground in a crumpled heap not barely a few seconds after Diluc spotting you running down the dusty and dirty road. He sprinted to you eyes wide yelling as loud as his vocal chords would physically let him. "Y/N! No!" He skidded and slumped down into the dirt himself, tugging you carefully but quickly into his lap muttering 'No' over and over in rapid breaths. And now you were where you were at, the life slowly but surely leaving you while all you could feel was Dilucs gentle kissing lips and warming embrace.

Does he know how much you love him? Did ever know how much he meant to you? Oh no... the souvenir you'd found for him... you dropped it back when you was ambushed... he would've loved it so much... however likewise with him to you, did you know how much you meant to him? How truly happy he was that he'd finally found someone he could trust and give his life to. Had he ever even said he loves you back? All these questions that were going to be left unanswered to the both of you.

Still trembling he watched as your light dimmed in your eyes, leaning his head down he softly placed a kiss against your unresponsive lips, parting ever so slightly to rest his forehead against yours and whimpering in a broken tone. "I love you, Y/N" When he lifted his head back up he felt the air being squeezed out of his lungs to see your eyes were now closed and there was no longer movement in your body.

He looked up at the night sky, the stars twinkling so beautifully over such a devastating and tragic moment. Closing his eyes he silently prayed the gods take good care of you up there till he can finally be there with you. Lifting up slowly with your now lifeless body bridal style in his arms he began to walk back to his winery, his expression stern and showing no pain. But it was all a facade for inside he was crying and screaming to the heavens and hell for having let this happen to you.

"They will pay Y/N, I promise you. I'll see you again soon; someday."

Childe

The rain was pouring heavily, hitting angrily against the cold hard concrete, the drops splashing up and back down as they landed with such impact. You were wet and cold, but your body had been going numb for minutes now as the blood was leaving your body so quickly. You shakily looked round to see the last attacker being cut down to the floor by your one and only love, Ajax.

The unknown man's body hadn't even hit the floor by the time Ajax had thrown his weapons down and rushed to your side. "Oi oi, come on now, look alive. More will be coming soon." He let out a nervous laugh not wanting to believe what he was seeing in front of him right now. You'd only gone out for a little drink and joke about in the beautiful rainy day, you both enjoyed running around in the rain so much after all. He tapped your cheek gently trying to keep you conscious as he could see your focus leaving you as fast as your blood was.

He pressed his hand against the open wound in your chest; a pitiful attempt to try slow the bleeding. You cursed yourself for not being more alert of your surroundings when that man crept up behind you and ambushed you by surprise. He shook his head vigorously side to side. His mask hiding most of the unbearable pain behind it. He should've known better than to think it was safe to come back to Liyue so soon after having caused such chaos.

Why the fuck did they have to go for you both though, you were innocent from all this it was him they wanted so why, why?! Why you?! He made a soft 'Tsk' sound from his mouth as he choked back the tears while looking at you. You had little vision left, little time too, but with what little strength you had remaining you lifted your hand up gently and pulled his mask off. Wanting to see his face one last time before you're gone from this world.

Exposing his damp cheeks and red eyes to you, you were able to form the smallest smile at him. "Don't... d-don't leave me Y/N, please..." his voice was barely a whisper now as he remained stiff by your side. "I won't..." You coughed back gently, you didn't even try to sound believable with that; you both knew it was a lie and you were on your way out with only seconds to spare.

You were his everything, he knew you was too good for him from the very beginning, yet you was determined to always be by his side. He knew he was a bad guy, a villain, but with you by his side he was able to feel like someone's hero. You meant fucking everything to him so why did someone so pure have to be taken so soon. You coughed gently once more before choosing your last words carefully, knowing they were to be your last.

"Childe- Ajax, you're not a bad guy. I have and will always love you..." Your voice faded into a whisper and then... nothing. Your eyes closed and your hand that had been against his cheek was now limp, the only reason it was still in its prior place was because Childe himself had been applying slight pressure to keep it there. You were gone now, at rest and probably somewhere much better and further away from this hell.

He looked at your resting face just wishing you'd open your eyes again and say it was all just a big terrible joke. But that wasn't the case, however his broken and torn expression immediately dissolved when he heard the rapid steps growing louder. "There he is! Apprehend him now!" One of the guards shouted to the several others. He quietly apologised to your resting form, letting your hand leave his face and finally rest with the rest of your body, he was also sorry as he wasn't gonna be able to give you the burial you deserved, he wasn't gonna be able to use that ring he'd bought you to propose with, and unknowing to him, you wasn't gonna be able to tell him the good news that he would've been a dad.

He lifted up slowly, hair now soaked and water droplets falling from all over his body. The blood leaving your body had began to swirl and dance with the water pooling against the concrete as the heavy rain showed no signs of slowing down. His mask back in his hand before it found its way back on his face, turning and stepping over to his slung down blades and kicking them up into the air grabbing them. Parting his knees swiftly and getting into his battle ready stance. The mask made him look like the bad guy every one claimed him to be, but underneath was the most broken and tormented boy that they'll never know.

"I'll always love you too Y/N, I am sorry but you're wrong, I've always been a bad guy, I just... I tried to be a better one for you."

Xiao

The sky was ablaze, organe and yellow flickering all over, ember floating up and down softly. It was so hot; unbearably so as you were laying on the wooden floor of the top balcony at the Wangshu Inn, blood spilling out of you and soaking the wood all around you. The fire was growing dangerously closer, but did it matter now? You would be dead in a couple more minutes away.

Had everyone escaped the Inn at least? Was everyone safe? You hoped they were. But it was then you felt an instant gust of cold wind wail past you like a roaring monster and die down the flames that had been encircling you and drawing ever so closer. Your vision was nearly gone and it was hard to make out anything except the smoke and fire, but those blue oni mask eyes were unmistakable, Xiao was above you right now.

His hand was hovering over your cheek, still scared that even now he may cause you more pain than comfort in your fleeting moments. "Y/N wake up. Don't be defeated so easily, this is truly pathetic, even for your standards." Harsh words as always, you knew he was sad and just lashing out, his words were cracking and his voice was wavering in its tone. Was that a sniffle? It was hard to make out among the crackling fire destroying the walls and wood around you and his mask muttering and muffling his already quiet words.

Why did they go for you? They wanted him to become nothing anymore, to just slip away and leave the entire history of Liyue to them. Leave the nation built under Rex Lapis to the incapable feeble hands of mortals. He couldn't ever allow that, he refused to back down so easily. But this? Surprise attacking the Inn and burning it down while taking the only mortal who held something to him away? How sick and lowly of them.

You went to speak but all you could muster was a cough as blood spat out your mouth across your bottom lip, your time was fading fast. He swallowed down and removed his mask, a shake in his hand as he did so, resting his proper gaze on your form one last time, allowing you to see him in his first ever vulnerable state, tears slowly falling from his face, letting his hand slide across your cheek gently, swiping the blood off your soft delicate lip. Why did it hurt him so bad? Why was this reaching so deep within him?

All those times he'd sighed and disappeared to get away from you, all those eye-rolls to your silly jokes and huffs to your tedious and pointless tasks. Why did he feel an ache in his throat when he thought about how he won't ever get to experience those annoying moments again? What was this? It couldn't be. Had he truly fallen in love with a mortal? Impossible, but what else could explain this gut wrenching feeling he had swirling inside him.

Everything was crumbling apart around him but his focus remained on you as you looked at him with those eyes, those same eyes that often stared at him with hope and admiration, now they stared with soft kindness and fleeting wishes. If this was love then he wasn't ready to have it taken from him so soon, but what could he do except watch as you left this world. He gritted his teeth together and his hand clenched tightly round his blood stained spear. This was truly unforgivable. If only he had killed those monsters sooner, got to you quicker... maybe then he could've saved you.

"I..." he began to stutter gentle words out while stroking his thumb delicately across your cheek, why hadn't he just swallowed his pride and touched you sooner? Why hadn't he just admitted this to himself quicker and embraced you. You had always been there for him despite his many harsh rejections, you were nothing but kind and truthful, loyal and honest to him and now? He resented himself for not having taken the chance to love that he had had in his grip for so long. Your vision was gone now and your ears were following quickly behind. "I... Y/N..."

Just spit it out already, before the time runs out for you- "Y/N I love you..." he looked at your face searching for a response but you were gone now. The gods had given you all the time they could spare and unfortunately it wasn't long enough to Xiao. It wasn't fair. He couldn't even let you know how he truly felt before you were ripped from him. Tears rolled down his face faster now, but the sorrow and pain he felt quickly welded into anger and inner rage boiling at the highest temperature.

He frowned deeply, lifting up from your body, hiding his broken expression behind his oni mask once again, shakily breathing in with a deep sigh, the shake in his hands slowly dissolving as his mind set itself onto a new mission, he turned and walked to the banister of the balcony and swiftly lifted up onto the top, looking over the landscape around him as the only place he'd truly ever known as home was burning to ash around him. He turned round taking one last longing look at your lifeless form and then leapt high into the air soaring through the skies, straight for Liyue.

You never wanted this, he knew that, you'd never want him to cause a war over your death, but you wasn't here to talk reason into him anymore. He was never gonna see your annoyingly beautiful face again, and this was all Liyues fault. They had to pay, and if that meant causing a war between humans and Adepti... then so be it.

"Forgive me Y/N, but without you here now, I see no reason to keep caring for these monsters. I'll hope you'll understand when I see you again one day."

[honestlywtfisgoingon]

A Match Set

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Pairing: Benny Watts x Reader

Summary: After meeting one night in New York, you and Benny Watts are drawn to each other. As you go through different experiences with one another, you grow closer until it finally gets to be too much for Benny.

Word Count: 2685 Damn

Warnings: Alcohol and also a little sad?

Notes: hehe the plot continues... also please give feedback I’m still new to writing and can use the help 🥺

Your first date with Benny was like all your experiences with Benny. It started out ordinary, and ended up somewhere completely different.

He took you to a small cafe, one of those hidden spots known only to New York natives.

You and Benny sat down in a little corner of your own, and you felt an imbalance when he didn’t look nervous at all. After you ordered you relaxed a bit, finding out that he was just as anxious as you were. Sure, Benny had an incredible poker face, but the way he kept tapping his cheek while he leaned his chin on his hand had been the tell.

On the outside it looked as though the two of you were on a regular date, exchanging all the usual smiles and small flirtations, but that’s where it got a little more interesting.

Benny wasn’t conventional and didn’t care to be, and you were always trying to get past the surface of things. Neither of you cared for menial small talk, and instead went straight into a passionate exchange of thoughts and views. You ended up talking like you had known each other for years. There was a connection there, an obvious chemistry that you hadn’t found before.

There was a second date after that, and it was even better than the last. He had taken you to dinner that time, and once again you found yourselves falling back into discussion about various thoughts and ideas, nothing boring or ordinary.

As you cracked jokes back and forth and learned more about each other, you had a warm feeling. You recognized that for all these last few months, being with Benny was the first time you really felt at home in New York.

That was before, but this is now. Now is when a part of you shattered. Now is just after you got a devastating call that your father was sick.

“Thank you,” you said before hearing the click of placing the phone back on the receiver.

Thank you for what? You were just told your father was dying and you were supposed to say thank you? You had finally gotten the chance to go beyond your small town, thinking everything at home was safe, that it was taken care of. It was your father that convinced you of that.

Living where you did had it’s limits, and there wasn’t much for you there. He pushed you to get out and explore, telling you that you didn’t need to worry about him.

You were taken from your thoughts when you looked at the time, realizing Benny would be picking you up soon. You could’ve canceled, considering the recent circumstances, but you were grasping for normalcy at the moment, trying to shove away the awful reality you were just hit with. You told yourself it wasn’t because you were running away, you were just being considerate of benny. Yes, you were just being considerate. That meant you could push off thinking about all this until you got home.

This time, you and Benny were walking together in Central Park, and you were trying to pay attention to what he was saying as best you could.

“Hey, y/n?” You heard benny’s voice break through the numbness.

“Sorry, what?” You were embarrassed that he caught you blatantly ignoring what he was saying.

“I was asking if you were able to come to to the championship, but I think you’ve got other things on your mind.” He didn’t seem offended, more concerned.

“I’d love to, I know how important chess is for you, and I haven’t gotten the chance to see you get really competitive.” He would’ve been happier to hear your answer had he not seen straight though you.

“Right now, you’re what’s really important to me. Just tell me what’s really going on.” His admittance for caring about you would’ve made filled your heart yesterday, but today it made you want to run away.

“Nothing is going on.”

“You’ve been off the whole day, I just want to know why.”

“Nothing is going on. Why are you so convinced that there is?” Your tone became slightly more aggressive.

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me right-“

“Just leave it Benny!” You snapped, letting go of his hand and and walking away from him. You didn’t know why you took off from someone you liked so much, but you didn’t really know why anything was happening at all.

You were stopped as Benny ran after you and grabbed you hand firmly. You tried to pull away, but he was stronger than you. He spun you around to face him. You became acutely aware of the tears that had started to fall from your eyes. Looking up into his eyes was your breaking point.

You let out a sob before caving into him. You felt his arms wrap around you before letting him usher you to a bench. He held you for what seemed like forever, until you were too tired to cry anymore. He was rubbing you back and gave you a little smile when you faced him. You apologized and hastily wiped away your tears, but he insisted that it was ridiculous of you to be sorry. You still felt guilty after your breakdown, so you explained what was going on to make it up to Benny. You couldn’t exactly run away anymore, physically or emotionally.

“It’s my dad. I got a call this morning. He’s sick, but he wants me to stay here. How am I supposed to stay here, dealing with a new job, a new life really, while my dad’s back home dying?” You let Benny see all the stress you were under, ready for him to leave now that he’s seen you as a mess.

“All those things, you have to take one at a time. If your dad’s what’s important right now, just focus on that.” It was easier said than done, but Benny wasn’t the emotional type and he didn’t know exactly what to say, but he cared, that much was clear. You just nodded, trying to pull yourself back together. “Are you going to listen to him? Are you going to stay here?” You could tell that behind his question, he was scared that you would say no.

“I- I don’t know yet.”

“Whatever you need, I’m here.” He said as he gently placed a hand on your cheek. It was smooth and warm and you wanted to lean into it, but you snapped out of it.

“Maybe what we both need is for you not to here.” You didn’t want to hurt him, but your walls had rushed back up. You had so many things going on, and the last thing you needed was a boyfriend. It pained you to say it, but you wanted to be honest.

“I don’t have to be here as... whatever we have going on now... but I can be here as a friend.” As of today, romance was off the table for you, but a friend was different, and Benny wasn’t the type to let go of you so easily, even if a friendship was all he could get.

You just nodded and looked down into your lap, not knowing what to do now. Benny knew it was time for silence, so he held your face in his hands so you looked up at him. He didn’t say anything as he used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away the tears sitting on your cheeks. It wasn’t a romantic act, it was more endearing, a quiet action as if to say that he was willing to catch you if you fell.

You let out a small laugh at his little gesture. His eyes radiated a sort of comfort now that you he was edging into a part of your life that even you avoided.

With the intention of continuing your date that wasn’t really a date anymore, he grabbed your hand to pull you up from the bench. When he tried to let go, you didn’t let him. He looked at you curiously but he didn’t question it. You didn’t even know why you did it, still mentally screaming to push him away. You both just ended up going along with it, holding hands for the rest of the day until he walked you back home.

Nearly 3 weeks had passed since then and you hadn’t gone out or had contact with anyone. Despite your moment with Benny, you had still distanced yourself from him. Holed up in your apartment, existing off of gin, cigarettes, and frozen foods; ignoring calls, presumably from your friends.

You sat in the middle of the living room floor, forcing yourself to sketch. It had been therapeutic for you before, but now you found yourself more agitated as your drawings felt forced.

“Argh!” You yelled out into the room as you threw the papers across the floor. The one thing that you could always turn to was your ability to do art, and now you felt a block.

After taking a swig of gin, you laid back on the floor. You had turned to alcohol after another call with your father. He demanded that you stay in New York and that you go on with your life. Instead you felt like you were at a standstill, unable to keep going knowing that the one person left in your life wouldn’t make it another couple of months, and yet you were unable to see him. It made you hurt and angry that he didn’t want you home, but you wouldn’t go against his dying wishes.

You groaned when you heard the sound of the phone. You dragged your hands across your face when it wouldn’t stop ringing, forcing yourself up to confront whoever was pestering you.

“What the fuck!”

“Glad to know you’re alive.” Bennys voice greeted you.

“Can’t you tell when someone wants to be alone?” You missed Benny, but you were slightly drunk and your defenses were up.

“What someone wants and what someone needs are two very different things.”

“Well then tell me what I need.” You said sarcastically.

“You should come out with us. We’ve been calling, Cleo and Annette and the rest of us. We haven’t heard from you.”

“Well the reason you haven’t heard from me is because I haven’t been answering.”

“Funny,” he said humorlessly, “we all miss you.” He paused, “I miss you. And I said I’d always be here so I have to make good on my promise.”

You paused. You had to admit, you missed them and Benny too, but everything just seemed so scary right now. For all your philosophies and ideas, you were hiding from your own thoughts. Going out with people would only expose them.

“I can’t.”

“You don’t have to have a night out, but have coffee with me at least.”

“Benny I-“

“Great. I’ll be there in five.”

“What? Benny no-“ He hung up. The bastard hung up on you. His audacity was what actually made you laugh for the first time in days. After a minute of laying on the floor, you gathered energy to trudge over to the bathroom and make an attempt to clean yourself up. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you made a grimace at your reflection. You brushed your hair and washed your face, brushing your teeth twice to get rid of the alcohol on your breath. You swiped some face makeup to conceal your dark circles and changed out of the pajamas you had been living in.

You buzzed Benny in, expecting him to wait downstairs in the lobby like usual. Instead you heard a knock at the door in the middle of clearing things up. You got flustered as you rushed around to pick up glasses, pillows and other articles littering the floor.

“I thought we were going for coffee,”You said as you opened the door, panting slightly.

“I thought I would make things easy, come to you.” He said as he made his way in, slinging his arm around your shoulder, “plus ive never been in here.” He took a look around, making no comments about the state of your apartment. He made himself comfortable, going through your kitchen, presumably looking for coffee or something to eat. “Do you want anything? More gin maybe?” He said as he picked up an empty bottle sitting on the counter.

“Benny-“ you warned, silencing him. He joined you on the couch with some chips he found in the cabinets and a can of coke.

“We don’t have to talk about anything serious, I just don’t want you to be alone. For my own sake really.” He turned his head away from you while saying the last part.

“You know I should be a dick more often, I’m making you all soft.” You nudged him in the shoulder as a small smile crept up on his lips, lightening the mood. Something about him being there made you unconsciously drop your facade. You had to admit it was nice to relax for a moment.

“Hey don’t go telling everyone.”

You didn’t talk about anything serious like Benny said you wouldn’t. After a while you eased into laughing and chatting casually. Eventually the conversation reached a comfortable lull.

“I missed you too you know. I didn’t say it over the phone.” You told him. Having him here with you made you feel bad for your outburst. You admired his patience for you.

“I knew.” He shrugged as he gave you a sideways little smirk.

“cocky bastard.” You said jokingly.

“Your favorite cocky bastard” he tilted his head towards you as he lifted his brow, smiling.

“Top 3 maybe.” You leaned back like you were pretending to think about it.

Suddenly you remembered what you talked about before the little breakdown you had on your walk.

“The championship! Do you still want me to go?” You sat up with your sudden remembrance.

“Course I do. I didn’t know you would still be up for it.” Benny looked happy, but you could tell he didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“I didn’t think I was, but I didn’t want to miss you winning.” You ruffled his fluffy blonde hair. He gave you that cocky smirk again. You really won points by stroking bennys ego.

“Well we can drive together then. It’s next week.” He said it nonchalantly, but he smiled as he took a sip of his drink.

You paused, not realizing the championship was so soon. You thought you had at least a month. You didn’t feel as though you were ready to enter back into the world yet. Just Benny was alright but having to hold your own with all those people while Benny played scared you. Benny caught your hesitation and went to hold your hand. They were chess players hands, soft with long fingers that intertwined with yours. They were cold and his rings were a bit uncomfortable, but your breath still hitched a bit.

No. You said you wouldn’t get involved with him. Still, you kept your hand in his. It was probably the one mildly romantic thing either of you could get without risking the friendship falling apart at this time.

“How exciting,” you finally continued. You lifted your coke and you and Benny cheers-ed together. Once again that warm feeling of home crept in, that feeling you got when being with Benny. No matter how many walls you built up, Benny, someone you hadn’t even known for more than a couple months, had an amazing way of bursting through.

Just this morning you were firmly committed to becoming a hermit, and now you were planning a road trip. You chalked it up to Benny being special to you. No, you pushed that thought away again. Special in a friend way. That’s what you needed, and that’s what he was willing to be. You were in a state of conflict around him, shoving him away and holding his hand to pull him close. You shook off your thoughts and looked at Benny, and there was a moment where his eyes shone with admiration, and then it was gone as he turned his head away and continued to talk about one of his chess feats while you listened attentively, just happy to be around him again, even if it was unwillingly at first.

[alaskasmonsters]

No Strings to Hold us Down | Takami Keigo

(spoilers for chapter 299 ahead!) 

requested by @waffleareniceandfluffy​: can I request a hawks x reader where yk how ehe in the car with best jeanist faked his death all that yeah and he says he’s free of his shackles can you do where they’re both free and they discuss his backstory (reader is childhood friend she knows about his abuse) and can you include any other thing chapter 299 with him as like can u make it hella angsty but with a little fluff and definitely a fluff ending.

part two

pairing: takami keigo x fem!reader

w.c: 4.269

warnings: spoilers for ch. 299, some amount of angst (with happy ending), mentions of neglectful parents

a.n: so this took me a hot minute and i’m so sorry you had to wait for so long! it’s also like 4 k words and i don’t know how or when that happened i-... i hope it’s angsty enough and i hope you like it! please enjoy :) <3

The silence hung thickly in the air of the freshly washed car, weighing heavily on you. A glance to the side told you that Keigo was still asleep, head propped up against the window.

He’d fallen asleep as soon as you’d taken off from the hospital, the only sign he was still alive was the even lifting and lowering of his chest.

You knew he was fine, Keigo was the most stubborn person you knew and as long as he hadn’t given up yet, there was nothing that could keep him from going on. Still, there was this little voice at the back of your head, barely an itch, that urged you to make sure just once more, if he was still alive, still breathing, still going.

He’d taken a lot of damage during his battle with Dabi. The villain hadn’t held back, hadn’t even hesitated when he’d burned his wings off, almost ruining the cells in his shoulder blades they were sprouting from beyond fixing, before he had moved on to his face and neck, leaving nasty burn marks behind wherever his hands had reached.

You remembered when you had stormed into his room, ignoring everyone who told you to take care of your own injured first, to take it slow, saying Keigo needed rest now, and you had first laid eyes on his battered form. The bandages covering his body, the absence of his wings, the peaceful look on his burned face as he was still sleeping soundly.

For a moment, a never ending moment, you had thought he was dead. You wouldn’t have known what to do then, when Keigo had actually left you behind, all alone in a big cold world, a world even colder without his silly jokes and genuine smiles. It had been awful, that feeling of dread, heavy and suffocating, that had taken a grip on your throat and squeezed.

Then the beeping of the vital signs monitor had reached your eyes, barely audible through the ringing of your ears and the loud beating of your eyes and you’d been able to breathe again.

Since then you hadn’t left Keigo’s side, even denied Best Jeanists help when he’d suggested to accompany the two of you. He’d wanted to drive, since you were still heavily injured, but you’d denied.

It felt too personal, visiting the house of Keigo’s mother, a woman you’d only met once before but had heard too many stories about, to not be by Keigo’s side when he had to face her after years of separation.

Luckily, Best Jeanist had realized this and instead agreed to meet you back at the hospital later, leaving Keigo and you alone on your ride to your destination.

Out of the corner of your eyes you saw your friend’s body stirring, straightening out of his hunched over position, his eyes blinking open tiredly before he seemed to recognize where he was.

“I’m sorry. I fell asleep,” the robotic voice of the translation app he was using, chimed through the car.

Another reminder of how close Dabi had gotten to him, you thought.

You glanced at him, your eyes falling on the muzzle he was wearing that prevented him from using his voice.

You smiled at him, hands tightening their grip on the steering wheel as you stopped at a red light.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you’re alright.”

You seemed to repeat yourself around him a lot since he’d woken up. “It’s okay.”, “I’m glad you’re alright.”, “How are you feeling?”. At this point you felt like a broken record. If he noticed, Keigo didn’t mention it.

“I’m glad that everything with Best Jeanist went smooth,” the voice chimed back.

You remembered when Keigo told you about it. The plan involved Best Jeanist. Before he’d even asked the man himself about it.  He probably hadn’t been allowed, the commission usually forbade any exchange of important information between the two of you, but Keigo never cared.

He had always told you anything, it’s been like that since forever.

The rest of the 40 minute ride was endured in silence. Keigo was looking out of the window, eyes unfocused, and you tried to focus your attention back on the street. The concerned voice was pushed to the back again.

You arrived soon after, parking the car in an empty spot and exiting the vehicle together with Keigo. The mansion at the end of the street caught your eyes immediately and you were once again impressed how much money the commission was willing to spend to keep their little pet obedient.

“Is that it?” you asked, covering your eyes against the blinding winter sun.

“Inside that house,” Keigo assured, passing you without giving you a second glance.

You let out a sigh, sensing his nervousness, maybe even fear to see his mother again. Locking the car, you followed after him, stomach churning with something you could only identify as dread.

When you arrived at the door Keigo rummaged around in his pockets before he pulled out a key card. He hesitated, grip tight around the little piece of plastic, before turning to you and typing a few words into his translation app.

“Before I fully recover and show my face again...you know there is something I need to be sure of.”

Maybe he felt like he had to explain himself, as if you didn’t already know exactly why he came all the way here to see his mom again after he hadn’t even bothered to keep in touch with her the last few years. His eyes were searching your face, hand on the handle and you gave him a soft nod.

“I know,” you replied quietly.

He opened the door wide and you entered the house.

It looked just as spacey and clean as the outside let suspect. The interior was beautifully put together, the furniture was expensive looking and excessive. It looked all very tidy and you knew that the way everything was decorated has probably been the work of interior designers.

Something about the fact that the place reminded you strangely of where Keigo was living stuck with you. His apartment was just as clean, just as nicely decorated by the hands of strangers, just as well put together.

How ironic.

The similarity of it. Mother and son both separated and still connected through the hands of the commission, the organisation the woman sold her son to.

It made you feel sick, no matter how much Keigo acted like it didn’t bother him, it just seemed to anger you twice as much.

How these people working for the Hero Public Safety Commission managed to make it appear all nice and clean from the outside, sweeping all the unpleasant details under the rug. They made Keigo the perfect hero, paid off his mother and ensured their comfort, ensured your comfort to him. Only to have the man in their debt.

The commission loved how close you and Keigo were, if only to use your friendship against you and use it to their advantage. Although it had only been him they had taken in, fixed up and trained for years, you were just as much controlled by them as he was. Due to your friendship.

They didn’t think of you as talented or as perfect as him. Hawks was charming, impressive, loved by the public, the number two hero! You weren’t even in the Top Twenty, your quirk wasn’t as flashy as most of Japan’s Top Heroes’ and you weren’t as loved by the public either.

You were only useful to them when it came to the dirty work, keeping Keigo in line that was (and you hated it hated it hated it), being the one responsible when he had to get punished after a mistake he made because it was on you when you didn’t pay enough attention, wasn’t it?

And only because the two of you had been childhood friends. Because you knew Keigo better than anybody else in this world, even himself. Keigo did have no issue sacrificing himself, burning himself out in the process if that meant he did a good job. You were the one who had to ensure he was at peak performance at all times.

Of course, being the commission, they had also used their sources (you didn’t believe it was Keigo who had told them, he would have never done as much) to uncover your awful past and find out about your family home just to use those things against you. As leverage. As if Keigo’s safety and wellbeing wasn’t motivation enough.

Your past was filled with pain and regrets.

Your mom, who’d left you with your dad after you were born and your dad who’d turned to alcohol and drugs to numb the pain.

The man had neglected everything. His health, his job, his life...you. So it had been your responsibility to keep the both of you afloat. You had started shoplifting when you were merely old enough to tell the difference between left and right. Everything you’d stolen, you’d taken to keep your dad and you alive.

The commission knew about this and liked to use it against you. It didn’t matter that you’d only been a child, old enough to know better for sure but too young to see any other possibilities for your hopeless situation.

You had met Keigo back then, too, when you’d been 7 and he’d been 8, after you had stolen from a small shop and accidentally caused havoc when you were caught and ran away, causing two cars to crash into each other when you’d crossed the street without looking, which forced one of them to swerve the other way so it wouldn’t hit you.

Keigo had found you hiding behind a group of trash cans in an alleyway crying, saying his feathers had tingled and that’s how he knew something had happened in the city. He had wanted you to return what you’ve stolen but when you had told him in tears about your situation and begged him not to tell anyone he had taken pity on you. Making a promise to not snitch on you if you were being more careful.

That’s how you’d become friends.

Although he’d gotten in trouble for leaving his house, beaten and screamed at by his paranoid piece of garbage of a father, who believed he’d tried to rat him out or something...That didn’t stop Keigo from seeing you again.

You would both sneak out in the middle of the night to see each other, meeting in forests and on playgrounds all around the town. He’d share food with you or bring you little things he’d managed to sneak from his dad’s newest gig.

Since that day in the dirty alleyway, Keigo had never stopped taking care of you. The both of you felt connected through your abusive fathers and (in Keigo's case emotionally) absent mothers. You both had scars you'd rather hide with everyone but never each other and you both felt lost, unable to be yourself in a home you didn't belong in.

You had realized, even at your young age, that you could never let him leave because you’d never find a person like him ever again.

So when the commission got involved, when they took him away, isolated him from his old environment, which involved you as well, your heart broke.

Although Keigo, sweet caring Keigo (who now had to go by Hawks. Commission’s orders.) still never entirely left you. He’d asked the commission for one more favor beside taking care of his mother and him. They had to ensure your safety, get you away from your father and into a better household.

You were the very first person he’s saved and although he tried to downplay it you knew he was proud of the fact that it held him together on days he didn’t feel much like a hero.

These days, it was rather often...

The house remained silent, the calls of the robotic voice for Keigo’s mother echoing through the big room.

No answer followed.

You looked around the room, noticing that what you had called clean before was really just the absence of everything that was supposed to tell someone that this mansion was inhabited. No dirty dishes, no books or newspapers lying around, not even a glass of water on the sink.

“Do you think she left overnight?” you asked, strolling around.

Keigo didn’t answer your question so you turned around to see him standing with his back to you, something clutched into his hand. Curious of what he had found you stepped up from behind him to look over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of what looked like a letter addressed to Keigo.

From his mother.

“Did Dabi use people for this...? How did he even get this far...?”

You hummed softly, reaching up to grasp his shoulder tightly. Keigo had already suspected that it must have been his mother to tell Dabi or people Dabi sent about his real name and family background. Still you knew there was a little part of him that had hoped this not to be true.

Now, though, with the letter that his mom left behind in her abandoned home, there was no doubt about it.

His shoulders sacked and his body hunched over as he let out a deep sigh, barely audible through the muzzle.

“Guess it really was my mother that leaked it then,” for some reason even the robotic voice sounded heartbroken about the fact.

You reached up to card your fingers through the hair at the back of his head, or rather the part that wasn’t covered by bandages.

“I’m sorry, Kei,” you mumbled lowly.

He leaned into your touch and let out another deep sigh, the tiredness that had been edged into his features ever since he had woken up in the hospital bed seemed even more prominent now under the cold lights of the living room.

“When the name “Takami” had been taken from me, the relationship between my mother and i had finally disappeared. I had always thought i was fine with that,” he explained, the robotic voice breaking the silence again.

“What i thought of as being saved was just me turning my back on everything. Even on you, y/n.”

You looked up in surprise at his words, staring at the back of his bandaged head with furrowed brows.

“You’ve never turned your back on me, Keigo,” you assured him, giving his shoulder another squeeze.

How he could even think that he’d ever done as much was beyond confusing to you.

Keigo reached to put his hand on your hand, the skin warm against yours and the touch comforting. He tightened his grip ever so slightly.

“Yes I did,” the speech assistant continued, “After we’ve met again a few years back, I’ve run from you, kept my distance, because you represented what i wanted to be but couldn’t.”

After we met again a few years back.

You’d seen him in the news one day, when you were still training in hero school, and recognized him immediately as your childhood friend, even after all the years you’d been separated.

The huge red wings were a distinct tell.

You had run out of the Starbucks, leaving behind your freshly ordered drink to where you’d heard the incident had occurred. Out of breath and disheveled from all the running you’d gotten there just in time to reunite with Keigo for the first time in years.

Since then you’d never left him out of your sight again, too scared you’d end up losing him again.

Hearing Keigo say that he’d tried the complete opposite, keeping a distance to you because of what you’d represented, something he wanted to be but couldn’t...what did that even mean?

“A guy who helps people...”

Your hand felt cold when Keigo dropped his own again, letting it hang off to his side.

“That’s the only thing that’s returned. Actually it’s refreshing,” he continued.

The air around you felt heavy, suffocating, just like earlier in the car, just like when you’d stepped into his hospital room. Although now the reason for it was a completely different one.

“What do you mean?” you asked quietly, your voice barely a whisper.

“The commission is currently at a stand still, y/n, in total dysfunction.”

You swallowed thickly at the reminder. The commission, the one thing haunting the both of you whenever you were with each other, the organization holding Keigo in an iron clasp and ensuring his obedience with your help...since the Jaku Hospital Raid, since Dabi exposed Endeavor and Hawks, the number 1 and number 2 heroes of Japan, they’d been silent.

Scarily so.

“There is no one to give me orders anymore. And they won’t be able to control you anymore either. I won’t let them.”

You took a step back away from the man when you noticed how violently he smashed the screen, his shoulders tense and the recovering wings under his jacket bulking.

“Keigo...” you tried weakly.

“They won’t get to abuse your kindness anymore, have you chained to me..”

You didn’t have to see the look in his face to know what emotion was displayed on it, neither did you have to hear his voice.

Your heart dropped at the words, at the bitterness he so desperately wanted to put into them but couldn’t because of his injured throat.

“Keigo,” you repeated, this time with more insistence.

“I know why you did it. You wanted to return the favor. I saved you, you save me,” the electronic voice sounded awfully smug all out of the sudden.

Your stomach twisted, a horrible hot sensation built in your chest and you had to clench your jaw to stop yourself from saying the first thing to come to mind.

Which would have been an insult.

You clenched your fists, pinned them to your side as you stared at Keigo’s back, your face twisted into an ugly expression.

“No, fuck that,” you spit, “how dare you?”

His face came into view when he turned half to look at you over his shoulder, eyebrows lifted in surprise at your outbreak.

You snarled, unable to contain the hurt as tears started to build behind your eyes.

You’d always been an emotional crier and you really hated it.

“It’s not about a favor. Don’t say shit like that.”

Hawks cocked his head, eyeing you for a moment before he fully turned towards you. His posture was more relaxed than before but there was a question behind his eyes.

He lowered his glance only to type in the next words...

“What? You care about me so much, sweetheart?”

You scoffed, wiping at your eyes in frustration.

“You know i do, stupid bird brain,” you said, still angry.

How could he even believe for a second that you endured the commission’s whining and yammering out of guilt. How could he not know how much you cared for him after all the years you’d been by his side now, after all the times you’d been there for him.

Keigo grasped your wrist, stopping your frantic wiping to push them away and make place for his own hands, thumbs softly brushing the wetness from your cheeks.

He found your eyes, his own wrinkling at the edges.

“No chains left,” the phone chimed.

You watched in anticipation as Keigo reached behind him, hands moving to his neck, and removed loosened the clasp, pulling the muzzle off.

Now you could see the smile, too.

“To shackle us down,” he told you with a hoarse voice.

“Kei,” you scolded him, looking down at the muzzle between his fingers.

You took a step towards him, closing the distance between you. Then you reached forward to gently run your fingers down his throat. The fabric of the bandages was rough against your fingers.

Hopefully he hadn’t started talking too soon.

“Y/n.”

You looked up at him and caught his eyes that were staring down at you with a determination you’d seen directed at you so often before, but couldn’t deny they had still the same effect on you as if it were the first time. Making your head all dizzy, that was.

“When we’re driven into corners, we find liberation. That’s when a true person’s nature rears its head. That’s why Bubaigawara was such a great guy,” he explained, gripping your wandering fingers into his hand, holding them close.

“At heart, he was desperate to be a help to others. I also want to be like that.”

You smiled up at him, squeezing his skin between yours.

“You’re already like that, Kei. You’ve always taken care of me, haven’t you?” you teased, hoping to ease the tension between the two of you a little.

“I think it was more the other way around, y/n.”

“I don’t-“

“Without you...i would have never known what it is like to have someone care for you. To have someone by your side no matter what. To understand...i think i would have never understood what it meant to love.”

You froze, staring up at Keigo with wide eyes. He tightened his grip around your hand, feeling that you wanted to draw back, instead keeping you close, thumb softly stroking the back of your hand as a way of calming you down.

“I think i love my mother, but that’s more out of obligation than anything,” he explained, searching your eyes but you couldn’t tell what he was looking for, “I never feel like i have to be anything than me when i’m with you. Nothing about being with you feels forced, or like it’s an obligation. It’s just...us.”

The room was spinning suddenly as you felt something cold wash over you. Your chest tightened, your heart daring jump out with every harsh beat against your ribcage.

He couldn’t be saying what he was saying...right?

He didn’t mean that. He couldn’t mean that.

“Keigo...are you saying you love me? As in...in love with me?” you wanted to laugh, just a little, to lighten the mood, but it got stuck in your throat on its way out.

Unlike you the man in front of you looked calm, not at all deterred by your panicked state.

“Yeah, I do. I think I have for a while now, but i didn’t fully realize until recently.”

Still gripping your hand in his left one he raised the other to your face, gently cupping your cheek. You leaned into the touch instinctively.

A faint smile tugged at his lips at your action.

“It’s alright if you don’t return my feelings, but I think you do.”

You frowned in thought.

You’ve never thought of the man in front of you as anything else than just Keigo, the kind hearted boy whom you met in a dirty alleyway, the one that brought a little girl food and presents every now and then. The teenager who wrote letters once in a while to keep you up-to-date. The man who you spend your free days with, eating chicken and watching movies.

You meant it when you’d said you wouldn’t leave his side, not if you had any say in the matter. Now, you weren’t entirely sure what you meant with that.

Stay with him? Forever?

Maybe Keigo was right.

He was always able to read you better than anybody else, just like you were the one to know him best as well. That’s also why he noticed your inner turmoil just by looking at your screwed up face.

“May i kiss you?”

Your breath hitched, warmth spreading through your chest as your heart fluttered in your ribcage.

“Yeah.”

His lips were warm against yours, the touch soft and delicate. Like he was testing the waters, giving you the opportunity to pull away if you wanted to.

The feeling was foreign to you. You had kissed other people before, quick pecks, sloppy kisses, passionate making out...But this, this felt different to all of them.

He kissed you gently, carefully, holding you with a delicacy you weren’t used to.

Your heart pounded in your chest as your knees suddenly grew weak, hand reaching out to curl around the back of Keigo’s head, urging him even closer.

He pulled you in, accepting the closeness happily as he deepened the kiss. The taste of toothpaste invaded your mouth.

Your mind went blank, the only coherent thought you were able to grasp was that you were making out with Keigo...in his mom’s house.

How ironic.

Your lips tingled when the two of you parted again, the aftertaste of peppermint lingering on your tongue. The warmth in your chest had spread to your face and you weren’t sure if you were blushing out of embarrassment or glowing because wow...that was something.

Keigo was staring down at you with an undefinable look in his eyes, but he looked happy, content like this and it made something in your chest flutter softly.

You did that.

“I-“ you started but the wide grin spreading on your face against your will, growing despite your attempts to suppress it with a bite to your tongue, made your voice die with a squeak.

The man chuckled, the outline of his wings moving under the fabric of his jacket and the thought of Keigo ruffling his wings joyfully in response to your obvious happiness...you wanted to kiss him silly.

“I think i love you, too, Keigo.”

He might have been the happiest bird man in the whole entire world when you said those words and for a moment...just one small moment, you really felt like the two of you could be free.

Taglist: @crystal-lilac​

[marjansmarwani]

beyond the terror of the nightfall

4.5k || ao3

After everything, there is much healing to be done. But comfort can always be found in the ones you love. --- A (very late) 2x13 coda

Did this take me forever? Yes. But I got it done before the new episode and that's what matters. Shoutout to @justaswampdemon for helping me make sense of my own timeline, you’re the best! 

(And am I insane posting this 6 minutes before the 911 episode airs? Probably.)

----------

Things looked brighter in the morning. 

Not only because they had fallen into bed without drawing the curtains when they had finally gotten to a bed in the early hours of the morning, but because of the man laying beside Carlos; face still peaceful in sleep. He couldn’t help but stare; taking in the miracle that was TK’s rhythmic breathing. It was irrefutable proof that he was still there, that Carlos had not lost him in the chaos and fear of the night before.

He lay on his pillow, silently observing and resisting the urge to reach out and touch him for that extra layer of proof. He wanted to feel the warmth of his familiar skin beneath his fingers but he did not want to pull him from this blissful state where maybe he could forget everything that had happened, for a little while. He turned away to avoid the temptation and look around the room, taking in the details that had escaped him the night before. 

Owen Strand’s guest room was sparsely but tastefully decorated and the warm browns of the room were as comforting as any place could be. The bright sunlight streaming in told Carlos that it was well past the time he usually woke up and for a brief frantic moment he thought he must be late for work. But then he remembered that at some point during the seemingly never-ending night one of his coworkers on scene informed him that their captain had ordered Carlos to take at least a few days off and that more leave would be ready for him should he need it. 

He let his head fall back against the pillow with a sigh, closing his eyes as he tried not to think about all of the things that needed to be done. He and TK had nothing now: no home, no clothes, no wallets. Every bit of their life, no matter how important or trivial had been reduced to ash right along with their home. Carlos knew they were lucky to have even escaped with their lives; the very real fact that they almost hadn’t had haunted him since the moment the flames erupted. But now, after, he was able to see around that and consider their way forward; and he knew it wouldn’t be easy. 

The sound of TK stirring beside him pulled Carlos from his thoughts and he rolled over to see his boyfriend slowly blinking open his eyes. He tried for a smile when those eyes landed on him and received an equally unsteady one in return. 

“Good morning,” TK said softly, his voice almost a whisper as if he didn’t want the world to know they were awake yet. 

“Good morning,” Carlos replied, matching the other man’s volume even as he moved closer and pressed a light kiss onto his lips. TK smiled into it, but once they pulled apart and he took a look around at their surroundings his smile faded. 

“I remember it happening,” he said after a moment, his eyes on the sparse furnishings of his dad’s house, “I was just hoping that maybe it was a dream.” 

Carlos hummed his agreement but he slid his hand across the bed to find TK’s. He squeezed it as soon as he found it and TK wound their fingers together in response before he pulled his mind back to the present and turned so he was facing Carlos again. They lay in silence, simply soaking in the presence of each other for a long time before Carlos finally sighed and ran a weary hand over his face. 

“We have so much to take care of,” he lamented, “I don’t even know where to start.” 

“Me neither,” TK agreed, “but we can divide and conquer, I suppose. You’re not alone in this Carlos,” he reminded him earnestly, “We are in this together, 100%.”

Carlos smiled at him as warmth spread through his chest. Their home might be gone but he can’t help but feel lucky that they didn’t lose this, that he didn’t lose him. The tasks before them were daunting and he was already dreading the hours spent on the phone with the insurance company, but knowing that he has TK at his side makes it all just that much more bearable. 

“We do make a good team,” he agreed, watching as TK’s smile grew. 

They lay there for a few more minutes, soaking in the calm silence of the late morning sun and the soothing presence of each other. It’s eventually TK that moves, a groan coming from his lips as he pulls himself up. 

“I suppose we need to actually face this,” he said wryly, “but I’m going to take a shower first. Care to join me?” 

Carlos laughed at his suggestive eyebrows but shook his head, “As tempting as it is,” he told TK, “I don’t think I could knowing that your dad and Mateo are right down the hall.” 

TK gave a light chuckle and leaned down to give him a lingering kiss. When he pulled away he took Carlos’s air with him as he stood from the bed.  

“Your loss,” he told him as he disappeared out the bedroom door with one last suggestive grin. 

Carlos watched him go, still trying to find his breath. Sometimes he was just struck by how much he loved the other man. It was a thought he had often, and a thought he had had last night as the flames had raged around them. 

As he pulled himself out of the familiar bed and began to get ready for the first day in their uncertain future he knew without a doubt that no matter what came and no matter how difficult, it would be worth it. Because he still had TK and they still had each other and after that, nothing else really mattered. 

-----

It doesn’t hit him until he is in the shower, of all places. 

He and Carlos had both spent an extremely long time under the running water the night before, plying the soot and smell of smoke off of their skin with Owen’s myriad soaps and skincare products but somehow now this regular, everyday act of showering before he got ready was his undoing. 

It was inevitable, he supposed. He hadn’t really processed it after all. There had just always been another thing to focus on: getting them out safely, answering questions about what had happened, supporting Carlos. TK had been a firefighter for the majority of his adult life; fire was nothing new to him. The sights and smells and sensation of being trapped among the hungry flames hadn’t affected him like it had the other man, for which TK was grateful. Carlos was the consummate pillar; always there to lend his support, always ready for TK to lean on and he was happy to be able to return the favor. 

But eventually, he ran out the timer he didn’t even know was running. 

It’s the smallest thing that acts as the catalyst. He’s just reaching for a shampoo when an idle thought drifts through his mind: he can’t remember the name of the shampoo Carlos used. 

It had been a bit of a running joke between them that Carlos had been struggling to find a shampoo that worked with his curls. He finally had settled on one just last week, but TK couldn’t remember what it was. He needed to replace it for him, he needed to make sure Carlos had everything he needed but he couldn’t remember the name of his shampoo. 

And it’s that thought that somehow brings the reality into focus. Everything they had is gone. They needed to move forward and they needed to do it completely from scratch. Everything they had built together was gone, and there was no bringing it back. The past month of living with Carlos and building a home together had all been erased; all proof of its existence reduced to ashes.

All their memories seeped into every square inch of the house were gone and there was no getting them back. 

It’s just one tear at first, but the rest quickly follow. Before he knew it he was sliding down the wall of the shower; chest heaving and shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs. He landed on the shower floor as the tears kept coming, mixing with the warm water falling around him as he put his face in his hands. 

He hadn’t let himself feel this because Carlos had needed him but now, in the privacy of the shower with the sound of the water concealing his sobs, he let it come. He cried until he didn’t have anything left in him, until all the fear and pain was gone and he only felt numb. 

Then he stood up, shut off the water, and stepped out of the shower; drying himself off and getting ready to face a new day. 

----------

Carlos stepped into the kitchen to find Owen, fully dressed and bent over the counter writing something on a notepad. He cleared his throat awkwardly as he stepped into the kitchen, not wanting to startle the older man. 

“Carlos!” he greeted cheerfully, Good morning! I was just leaving a note for you boys, I have to head out for an appointment in a bit. How’d you sleep?” 

“The room was very comfortable,” he replied, carefully skirting around all mentions of sleep and dreams. The look Owen gave him told Carlos that he wasn’t fooled, but he didn’t press. 

“I expected you both to sleep longer,” he said instead. “It was a late night and lord knows TK’s never really been a morning person. Is he up too?” 

“He’s in the shower,” Carlos answered, taking a seat on one of the stools at the counter. “We both figured we have a lot to get done so it would be best to get moving.” 

“That actually brings up something I wanted to talk to you about - well, a few things actually,” Owen amended. “The first is simple.” 

He followed his words by picking up something resting on the counter beside the paper he had been writing on. It was his credit card and when Carlos went to protest he shook his head, “Don’t even think about it. Unless one of you went to bed with your wallet last night and failed to mention that, neither of you has access to any of your accounts at the moment. We’ll get that all sorted out in time but for now I’m sure you’d appreciate having some clothes that actually fit. And don’t even think about trying to pay me back,” he added as he slid the card across to Carlos, “I can cover it, and it’s the least I can do.” 

Carlos carefully picked up the card in front of him and looked from it back to his boyfriend’s father, “Thank you, Owen.” 

Owen waved off his thanks. “It truly is the least I could do, given everything. But I’m not the only one who wants to help you two.” 

Carlos opened his mouth, ready to assure him that the 126 didn’t need to do anything, that simply being there was enough (though knowing them he was sure his assurances wouldn’t stop them) but what Owen said next was not what Carlos had been expecting. 

“I know TK talked to his mother last night and told her it was fine that she couldn’t fly down here, but if I know her she is kicking herself for that. Now, this is all up to you and TK. It’s your house and your insurance and it’s up to you how you want to handle it but don’t forget that you have a powerhouse of a Manhattan lawyer on speed dial,” Owen reminded Carlos, “don’t be afraid to call Gwyn if you think it’ll help.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to…” Carlos began but Owen shook his head. 

“None of that,” he told him firmly before his expression softened. “She hates that she can’t be here for you two and if you would like to pass on some of the legal and insurance stuff to her I know she would be happy to do it. She would probably feel better about it, knowing that she was able to help you both even if it’s just a little.” 

Carlos nodded, feeling the smallest amount of weight lift off his shoulders. There was still plenty left behind, but the knowledge that someone with a better understanding of the system could help them made it just that much easier to breathe in the face of it all. 

“Thank you, Owen. I will.” 

“Good,” Owen said with a nod. “It’ll mean a lot to her and I’m sure you won’t mind a few fewer things to deal with.” 

Carlos nodded emphatically at that and Owen grinned. His expression shifted though as he caught sight of the clock about the stove. 

“I need to go,” he said hurriedly, “I have an appointment at the hospital. Will you tell TK...I don’t want to leave before he comes down but…”

Carlos shook his head, “It’s fine, I’ll tell him. We’ll see you later.” 

Owen gave him a grateful smile, “Count on it. If you need anything while I’m gone just call me, and don’t worry about buying whatever you need because I’m not letting either of you pay me back, I mean it.” 

Then he was gone, out the door with a wave before Carlos could even open his mouth to argue. He picked up the card idly and was tapping it against the counter while his mind wandered when he heard footsteps behind him. He looked around and felt a smile spread across his face at the sight of TK entering the kitchen. It abruptly faded though when his boyfriend grew closer and he could see the telltale signs of recent tears all over his face. They were well concealed, but Carlos knew TK’s face better than his own. TK had been crying, there was no doubt.  

“Babe?” he asked gently, rising from his seat at the counter.

“I’m fine,” TK assured him in a hearty voice that did not have Carlos fooled for a second. 

“TK you are not fine,” he retorted adamantly, “talk to me.” 

“I am Carlos, really,” TK repeated firmly and Carlos went to argue again but TK kept talking. “It just all finally hit me, I think,” he told him, “that’s all.” 

Carlos could feel the panic that had sprung up at the sight of TK’s upset start to fade in the absence of any immediate threat or injury. “I’m not surprised,” he admitted softly, stepping forward to wrap his arms around the other man. “You’ve been a rock the entire time and while I appreciate it - really, I do - it was your home too.” 

TK heaved a weary sigh and wrapped his own arms around Carlos, returning the embrace. “I know that,” he said softly into Carlos’s shoulder, “but I’m okay, I swear.” 

Carlos pulled away enough to study TK’s face, to look for any sign that he was lying. When he didn’t see any he relaxed and took a breath. He knew that it would take some time for them to both move past this and that they were each going to deal with this in their own way. He also knew that this would be far from the last time they talked about this, or the last time one of them struggled. But if TK said he was fine, he was fine and Carlos would let it go - for now. 

“Your dad just left,” he said instead, stepping away from his boyfriend so he could enter the kitchen. “He had an appointment but he said he would see us later.” 

TK nodded as he crossed to the counter and pulled out two mugs before filling them both with coffee and handing one to Carlos. Carlos took it with a grateful smile and continued, “He also left his credit card and told us to buy whatever we need and was very clear that we were not paying him back. He mentioned that part twice.” 

TK shook his head fondly and Carlos grinned before he moved onto the next part of their conversation. “He also suggested we call your mom to see if she can help us with any of the insurance stuff.” 

TK looked up, surprised for a moment before his expression evened. “That makes sense,” he admitted. “If anyone knows their way around the system, it’s her.” 

Carlos grinned at that, allowing himself a quick moment of enjoyment at the thought of an unsuspecting insurance agent trying to pull one over on Gwyneth Morgan. “I think we should,” he said a beat later, “I think it could make a difference because frankly, I have no idea where to even start with all of this.” 

TK chuckled and shook his head, “Honesty, me either. I’ll call her in a little bit, see what she says.” 

Carlos nodded but secretly he was sure the answer would be yes. He was fairly certain that Owen was right, that she would do anything that felt like she could help them, especially in a way that only she could.

“We should make some time to go out for a bit,” he says instead, “get some clothes to get us through the week, get you a new phone.” 

TK grimaced at the reminder. “You’re lucky you still had yours in your pocket,” he told Carlos. “It feels so weird not having it. I feel so out of the loop.” 

Carlos chuckled and reached across the table to place his hand on top of TK’s, “That’s okay,” he assured him sweetly, “I’ll make sure you stay in the loop.” 

“My hero,” TK deadpanned, but he was grinning. 

Any further conversation was halted by the dinging of the phone in question and Carlos fished it out of his pocket, swiping it open to reveal a new message in the group chat. He put the phone down on the counter so he could see the message from Paul: Status update: everyone make it through the night? 

TK rolled his eyes fondly as messages from the others appeared, all confirming their continued existence. Carlos grinned at him before he pulled the phone closer to type out a message informing them all that yes, he and TK had in fact survived the night. The conversation quickly shifted from there and, TK reading over his shoulder as he sipped his coffee, slowly a plan began to form. 

Paul reminded them all that they had scheduled a game night for tonight and that if there was ever a time they all needed it, it was now. Marjan was quick to agree and Mateo to wonder where they were going to meet. It was Nancy who suggested the 126, reminding them that it would be abandoned for the foreseeable future and that the building had been deemed structurally sound. It was at this point Carlos felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to meet TK’s concerned eyes. 

“Would you be okay with that?” he asked softly. 

“Yeah,” Carlos responded, baffled at the other man’s concern, “why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Because we barely escaped from a burning building with our lives last night.” TK reminded him gently, “I’m just making sure you’d be fine hanging out in another one.”

Carlos considered, looking back down at his phone. The messages had paused and it seemed as if everyone was waiting on him. The idea of being surrounded by the work of the arsonist who had taken their home did seem daunting, but doing it with their friends and TK at his side made it seem far less so. 

So he smiled at TK and gave him a nod before he typed his agreement into the chat. The others were clear in their enthusiasm and despite everything that lay behind them and what was still waiting, Carlos found another smile. 

He had a feeling they’d be okay after all. 

-----

Walking into his destroyed firehouse is like walking into a grave, again. 

When he first started out as a firefighter he never thought he would be forced to stand in the ruins of the place that had come to be a second home (or even a first home, at times) and contemplate the loss and tragedy of the sight before him. But he had, twice. The first time it had been silence: the emptiness of the formerly bustling kitchen, the hastily made beds in the bunk room. The knowledge that the rooms would never be filled again. 

This time it was charred walls and shattered windows; physical destruction scattered with the debris and clutter of their day-to-day lives. They were still there - still standing - but there was an illusion of safety that had been washed away, never to be fully regained again. A safe place had been violated and for that Owen was sure he would never forgive himself for being the cause. 

His flashlight caught a glint of something in the debris of his office and he reached down to pull out the lump of melted steel. He turned it over in his hand as he sank into his chair, his mind fractured between a time nearly 20 years ago and this moment. He had once walked out of hell alone; filled with the grief of losing his brothers and the knowledge that nothing would ever be the same again. But he had moved on and he had built new families and he had vowed to look out for them so he would never have to feel that loss ever again. In the minutes between his frantic call to Judd and the call confirming they were all safe he had nearly been toppled by the fear of that thought. He had thought that he might lose a family again, and that this time it would be his fault. 

But he hadn’t; his luck had held again. It had even carried on late into the night, saving him from losing the one thing that meant most to him in the entire world. The pure, unrestrained fear he had felt upon making the connection between Raymond’s threat and the fact that TK and Carlos - the two people both he and Gabriel Reyes cared for most - lived together, making them a perfect target, was unlike anything else he had ever felt in his life. The helplessness had almost overwhelmed him as he and Billy had raced to the scene, the guilt still did even now. 

But his luck had held once more and while he was beyond grateful - the thought of losing either of the boys was too awful for him to even comprehend - he was left now to once again wonder why. What had he ever done to make him deserve a happy outcome when Tommy didn’t get one. What made him better, more worthy of a long life, than Charles Vega? He may not have known the man for long, but he had come to know him well and he knew without a doubt that Charles had been a better man than him. Not just a better man: a better person, a better friend, a better husband, a better father. Charles Vega was better than Owen in every single aspect of life that mattered. 

Yet for some reason fate had decided that Charles’s time in this life was over; that Tommy needed to face life without her partner, their girls without their father.  

And Owen was still here, left standing once again in the ruins; wondering how to move on. 

He turned the lump of steel - a reminder and a relic - over again in his hand. There were so many skeletons in his past and sometimes he was afraid that his present was trying to match that. It was a fear that he lived with day in and day out, it was one of the things that kept him up at night and kept him turning to the tequila. He didn’t know how to shake this feeling of dread that had become his constant companion and sometimes he was afraid it would drown him. 

Sometimes he wished it would. 

There was a list of people in his head; people he couldn’t save, people who should have lived instead. He was running through the list of names (Pullman, Rollins, Rosewater, Santiago…) when the sound of loud music erupted through the silent shell of a firehouse. He frowned, glancing around as if the source would reveal itself before standing and heading down to the first floor. 

The sound of voices soon mingled with the sound of the music as he followed it to its source. He turned the corner from what had formerly been the kitchen into the skeletal remains of the lounge to see a small crowd. It was his team, and Carlos. He watched in awe as they took it in stride, as they made the most of it. He lingered off the side, beer in hand and more than content to watch and observe as they bantered and argued about foosball teams. They had all been deeply affected by everything that had happened; he had seen it in them in the immediate aftermath. He knew it had affected them each deeply in their own personal way.

But somehow, they keep moving forwards. 

He wonders vaguely when he lost that ability as he stands off to the side, watching them jostle and tease each other by the foosball table as Carlos and TK watch fondly from the sidelines, quietly seeking comfort in each other. He is amazed at their fortitude, at their propensity for healing. They have all faced so much and yet they keep coming out on the other side just as good, just as strong. Just as whole. 

He felt a smile find its way to his face as he saw TK gently rub at Carlos’s back; an almost unconscious act of comfort and support. They were fine because they had each other and as long as that was true he knew they’d be okay. 

His new team had become a family somewhere along the way and he knew that together, they could make it through anything. It’s in that moment that he decides two things: first, that the news of Charles Vega’s death could wait. These people deserved one night unmarred by tragedy and he had the power to give it to them so he would. 

The second, he decided as he watched them laughing with abandon and leaning into each others’ space - finding happiness in the literal midst of destruction - was that the best thing he could do for them is to make sure that they always had each other. And he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would do anything and everything in his power to make sure that stayed true, for as long as he possibly could. 

[tulsa-trash]

Bob Sheldon Headcanons

WARNING(S): Mentions of alcohol abuse, physical abuse, death; got angsty towards the end there god damn—

Has an older brother named Gordon who moved away to go to law school, they’re a little over 4 years apart. They were never really close, due to their father creating unnecessary competition between them since they were younger. He doesn’t like talking about him much.

Mr. Sheldon would always compare Bob to Gordon, saying that Bob “ought to be more like his big brother instead of screwing around all the time.” Overtime Bob grew to resent his old man a whole lot.

Mrs. Sheldon is a chain smoker, she tried her best to hide it from the family but eventually Bob found out. Most of the time after she gets into a fight with her husband, she locks herself in one of their bathrooms, opens the window, and silently lights a cigarette as she stews by herself. One night she forgot to lock the door and Bob walked in on her. He promised he wouldn’t tell dad.

He tended to favor his momma over his daddy, she spoiled him more and he felt she was always easier to talk to than dad.

His parents have a decent age gap, his mother being eleven years younger than his father. They’d known each other since they were kids, his dad was best friends with one of his mom’s brothers growing up.

Being spoiled rotten with tons of cash throughout life has its pros and cons. Despite always coming off as cocky and entitled, deep down bob hated being a soc. At the age of 18 he already had all the money, nice clothes, popularity, and dr*gs he could ever want, so why even try?

He had no goals for himself, didn’t want to go to college, didn’t want to work, he could really care less about all that. He had a tuff car and he was dating one of the hottest gals in school, that was all that was important to him.

He met his best friend, Randy, in kindergarten. They went to catholic school together, they’re parents even get along well. Both of their childhoods were spent visiting each other’s houses and going to family cookouts often.

His dad forced him to join a baseball league in seventh grade, even though Bob expressed he didn’t like it his dad made him stick with it for a few years. He was eventually kicked off the varsity team his sophomore year in high school for excessive drinking, along with constantly butting heads with his teammates and the coach.

The only good thing he got out of baseball was watching Cherry Valance preform with the cheerleaders at his games, that’s how their relationship started.

He’s secretly blind as a bat, but he refuses to wear glasses. Bob found out he desperately needed glasses in the third grade. once all the kids in his class seen him with those thick-brimmed, magnifying glasses it was all over. he was teased ruthlessly to the point where he just stopped wearing them and never put them on again.

“What happened to those god awful goggles, Sheldon?”

“Psh. They were fake I wore em as a joke.” 😅

^ That forced him to sit in the front of class a lot so he didn’t have to struggle as much to see the board. Even though the poor b*stard was blind the entire time, it made him used to getting called on by the teachers and chatting with his classmates. He was one of the most popular boys in town in no time.

Mr. Sheldon slowly became an alcoholic as his boys grew up. He went from one glass of scotch at night to taking a shot immediately when he wakes up in the morning and being plastered by the afternoon. Usually he’s a sluggish drunk, but god forbid he gets to drinking when he’s mad.

His old man was terrifying when he was both intoxicated and livid. He never put his hands on his wife but there have been multiple drunken episodes where he either destroyed sh*t in the house... or he’d beat Bob.

If you were to ask Bob if he would rather get hit with a belt or his dad’s hands, he would pick the belt. Even the metal part hitting him was no where near as painful as his father’s closed-fist strikes with his gold rings. If Bob had a good buzz on it numbed the pain a bit, so he tried his best to be hammered before he got home most nights.

His mother never stepped in or said anything about it, she’d clean up her husband’s mess and go to bed. The next morning the family would act as if it didn’t happen. They had to maintain their pristine reputation of course, wouldn’t want the neighborhood to know both Mr. Sheldon and his youngest son had drinking problems. Bob eventually couldn’t even stand his mom anymore. He hated them.

Mrs. Sheldon hated herself too, and her husband. She knew her baby boy was f*cked up because of them, the guilt ate away at her every day. Deep down in her heart she knew her son was drinking and causing trouble because of how he was brought up— how he was being treated at home... and she did nothing about it.

The mixture of bullies at school and his own personal bully at home molded him into being the arrogant and angry a*shole we’ve come to know. No one would be able to hurt him if he just beat them to it and hurt them first... right?

One night things got really bad, Bob’s report card came in the mail while he was out on a date with Cherry. His daddy was displeased, to say the least, 3 bold F’s sat on the paper.

“That no good son of a b*tch is lucky he ain’t home.” Mr. Sheldon spat as he slammed the report card on the dining room table, his wife visibly flinched.

When Bob got home that night he was already fired up, some greasers were trying to make a move on Cherry and Randy’s girl, Marcia, at the Nightly Double. The last thing he expected when he got home was to see his mother sweeping up broken glass while nursing a busted lip and a black eye.

They held eye contact for a long moment, neither of them said a word. His mother looked at him with so much pain, so much regret in her eyes, tears silently rolled down her cheeks. Bob turned around and left wordlessly.

He picked up a few of his friends, stopped by the liquor store, then began to look for some trouble. He immediately drove to the east side of town to look for some greasers to mess with, and after only fifteen minutes of cruising his eyes landed two younger boys from the drive-in earlier that night.

“Jackpot.” He slurred to himself as he turned his car onto the grass and pulled up to the park.

Whoever wasn’t helping Bob restrain the greaser he was drowning was beating the second boy in the grass. Every now and then Bob would pull the kid out of the water only to shove him back in almost immediately. He held him under the water, the cold liquid splashed everywhere managing to soak everyone near the fountain but he didn’t care... he couldn’t feel a thing.

The other greaser was shouting, his pals continued to egg him on as he continued swing the greaser’s head back and forth wildly under the water. He didn’t even know what anyone was saying, he wasn’t paying attention, all his focus was directly on hurting the individual in his grasp.

Red. Everything was fine until Bob noticed the water was changing colors. His ears were ringing, all he could hear was the faint sound of footsteps rapidly getting lower and lower, farther away. There was no more yelling, no more voices.

“Did I k.ill him?” He thought to himself, immediate regret and fear flooding over him.

He let go of the kids shirt and fell over with a soft thud, a sharp pain erupted from his torso. His hand lightly touched the left side of his ribs and there it was... warm, red liquid coated his fingertips after he pulled his hand away. It was then he noticed the other greaser, the tan boy frantically pulled his friend out of the water and laid him down on the cold concrete.

“P-Pony? Ponyboy?” He shook violently, his right fist held a switchblade tightly. “Oh god... what did I do... what did I do.”

Bob watched him slowly sink to the ground, his back resting against the side of the fountain as he began to sob. His eyes flickered to the unconscious kid, Ponyboy. He didn’t understand how his body went from hot to cold as fast as it did, the reality of the situation was crashing down on him like a ton of bricks, he knew he was going to die.

He looked up at the sky and took in a strangled breath before wincing in pain. To his left he noticed his flask— his dads old flask, it was his eighteenth birthday gift. The thought of his father’s proud face as he handed it to him that day made Bob sick. He reached for it, the cold metal on his palm soothed him a bit. He weakly unscrewed the cap and went to take a sip, only to realize it was empty. Johnny watched him the entire time with a horrified gaze, but Bob didn’t seem to notice.

“Damn... that’s a shame.” The Soc grumbled to himself.

He tossed it, making it land a few feet away in the grass. His attention returned to the starry sky, a light feeling crept its way in his chest. He couldn’t tell if that was just him dying or if it was something else, but after eighteen years of being in this world his finally took the time to stop and look at how beautiful the sky was for the first and last time. He was scared, he didn’t want to go so soon, yet at the same time... he was relieved.

“Wow...” Bob sighed, “Ain’t this something else.”

His vision began to blur, tears— or was that also death? He felt the salty streams creep past his eyelids and run down the corners of his eyes. He was ready.

With one final breath, he passed away. His eyes never closed, he died looking at the stars.

[ask-aurachnid]

Rescue III

[Rescue II | Rescue IV]

Frankie wakes up an unknown amount of time later in an unfamiliar apartment, though not that unfamiliar. They’ve spent enough time around Castle to recognize the olive-green wool blanket pulled up to their chin, and Max napping in the corner. Their whole body feels like it was put through a laundry mangle, particularly their face. It’s not surprising, given how many times Pavel had slammed his fist into it, though it is a wonder that their eyes aren’t swollen shut. They spot the familiar floppy disk on the coffee table, and idly, they wonder what Castle has done with their mask. It’s probably beyond cleaning.

Between the suit heater and the blanket, Frankie feels overheated, though the ice-pack on their shoulder does help. They flick the heater off and carefully push themself up with their good arm, tossing the ice pack onto the coffee table.

“Castle?” Frankie calls out. They frown at the rotten taste of blood in their mouth, but the spike of pain in their face quickly reminds them how bad of an idea that is.

“Behind ya, kid.”

Frankie startles, whirling around much to the displeasure of their head. Castle’s standing a few feet away, dressed in civvies and holding a steaming cup of coffee.

“How’d I get here?” they ask.

“I carried you.” He shrugs, like it’s not that big a deal, which Frankie supposes is true enough. It doesn't change the fact that they're almost as tall as him, well over a hundred pounds, and Castle doesn't have super strength, but the semantics don't matter.

Frankie nods, sitting up the rest of the way and pressing their back into the corner of the couch’s back and armrest, blanket wrapped around their shoulders. They try to focus on their breathing as they stare at their knees, but it’s hard to concentrate and their chest aches. Their whole torso is probably mottled black and blue just like their face.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Castle says after a minute, like he can tell their mind won’t stop replaying the same few seconds over and over, reminding them of the fear and the feeling of someone else’s blood on their face, hot and sticky. The cold numbness that settled over them and kept their body from moving. The memory makes their stomach turn.

“I’d rather have more trauma than have my brains splattered across the floor of some bunker,” they say, shrugging their good shoulder. Maybe if they pretend it doesn't bother them they can convince themself it actually doesn't.

“I’m glad you’re alive, kid.” He says, and they both lapse into silence. Castle takes a spot against the other arm of the couch, idly sipping at his coffee. He’s got his brow furrowed in thought. Despite most people’s perception, Castle’s a smart guy. He’s always planning, always thinking. Frankie has a pretty good idea about what’s on his mind right now, though.

Frankie is grateful that Castle saved their life, they just wish they could get their brain to stop replaying all those memories on a loop. That man’s creepy smile and his grimy hands on their face. The smell of his breath and the cold metal of the gun as he held it to their head. The breathless panic as Pavel slammed his huge fists into their chest until they were sure that the next one would stop their heart. The loud crack of Castle’s gun and the too-hot, slimy feeling of the man’s brain matter on their face.

Somewhat childishly, Frankie wishes their dads were here, so they could shuffle into the master bedroom and tuck themself between the two people who were supposed to protect them no matter what. They want their papa to brush his fingers through their hair and their dad to crack stupid jokes, but Frankie watched them turn to dust more than a year ago. They’re not here. Frankie is an eighteen-year-old orphan barely scraping by.

“That was really scary,” they choke out, eyes burning.