#he just lets this shrill girl barge into his life and make a home there with minimal objection.

[kacievvbbbb]

Just one of the many great tragedies of Mishanks' relationship is that sometimes Shanks wants to feel wanted just as he is, that even beyond the strength he is worth the effort he is worth being loved and unfortunately that just isn't something Mihawk can over him it's just not something he can do, not as he is now at least. That's a level of emotional maturity that he just does not possess to be able to disentangle the strength from the man that makes no sense to him. Strength is all there is. Shanks is a person, has a life outside of his strength, his power is just another aspect of who he is but for Mihawk strength is his whole person, if he is not strong then he is nothing. If shanks is not strong well then....he's nothing to him.

And God that's a lonely way to live.

[liam-cadmus]

Itachi stares at the black steel kunai in his palm, the moon shining through the window as he tilts the weapon, the metal glinting. He brings his own black irises back to the mirror, mouth pursed as he ponders if he should do this. A pair of eyes stare back at him, the color dull but so very familiar, the same shade of inky obsidian that his brother also possesses, dark and deep, as expected of Izuna’s line.  The slender fingers of his other hand finds the tie holding his ponytail, pulling it off, the strands falling gracefully, his silky hair falling straight, flowing like a curtain. He already did countless hairstyles before; messy bun, complicated braids, half-up half-down, space buns like the girl in the weapons shop, ponytails. The heavy weight on his shoulders and palm ground him to making this position, his other hand fiddling with the current length. It’s fine, right? It’s my hair. He thinks, absentmindedly untangling the knots, not that there’s much of it. Besides, it’s so boring. He’s gotten tired of the repetitive hairstyles, and worrying over his hair getting stuck in branches, only dragging him down in his missions.  He’s internally laughing hysterically at himself, because, what the fuck, he’s never been this impulsive. He should be separated from the sharp edge of this kunai, because he’s gonna ruin the hair he meticulously grown, over a decade’s worth of progress. Not really, he’s always trimmed it, but no higher than his ribcage, the length always dropping until the back of his waist. His other hand encircles his whole hair, the not at all blunt edge of the kunai slicing through, strands separating like butter, cold air hitting the exposed skin of his nape. Oh fuck. I did it. Oh kami. He thought it would look bad, but honestly, he likes it, considering he did this with a kunai. He trims some strands, making his hair layered, instead of the short bob cut, the hair just tickling under his ear.  He lets his mouth turn up, hand ruffling the hair messier, feeling light and free. He leaves the hair he cut off, organized beside the kunai he used. — Itachi lets his breathing calm, as he tugs on his bangs, the fluffy tuft of hair now present on his head a new but accepted change in his wardrobe, although he worries how the others would react, considering he didn’t even hint or warn them somewhat. He prays to kami that everything will go smooth. — 

Fuck that, everything is not going smooth, and thrown out of the window, the moment he stepped in the confines of their dining room. He expected surprise or disappointment, not whatever Shisui is doing, his ears are pulsing because of how loud Shisui is complaining, his movements erratic and panicked and proud and grieving at the loss of his hair.  His mother just choked at the sight of it, but reassured that it did look good, and that she wasn’t expecting it at all. His father woke up fully from where he was blinking slowly, staring at him intently, before passing out on folded arms, deeming it fine.  Shisui, however, is a different story. He barged in the door, enthusiastic in greeting, before stopping on his tracks, brows drawed in confusion, with a mumble of “Did you have visitors Mikoto-san? And where is Itachi?”  Mikoto just sipped at her tea, offering him a tired smile, with no words included.  Before he went through five stages of grief, and denying, that no, that isn’t Itachi-kun. He only rolled his eyes at Shisui’s very dramatic complaining, the other Uchiha wiping a stray tear, and murmuring solemnly, “I need to take a seat, or I might faint,” which is an overestimation of his feelings, but what’s Itachi to judge, he only wanted a hair cut, for fuck’s sake. “THAT’S NOT A HAIRCUT, YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE GONE BALD.”  “Shut the fuck up Shisui, now hurry, we need to go to Kakashi and Obito, and I need to buy some dango.” for stress, he wants to add, before looking up to a pale faced Shisui, realization dawning on him.  “YOU’RE GONNA WALK OUT OF THE DISTRICT WITH THAT HAIR?” Shisui wails, he actually wails, the sound echoing through the main house, heard from miles away, the flocks of crows resting on the lines cawing and flying away. — Kakashi is leaning heavily on Obito, questioning his life when he saw Itachi, while the Uchiha stares blankly at the road, mouthing nonsense as they walk, Shisui hiding his face in his hands as Itachi whistles, civilians and shinobi alike staring at them like they’re corpses. — Sasuke is tired, and the fact that everyone seems to be malfunctioning is not helping whatsoever. He’s standing with no sleep, soldier pills and sheer amounts of spite as he lands in the Hokage Office, dropping his report in front of his uncle, Minato, who’s going through his paperwork mechanically, eyes dazed.  He waves his hand in front of the man, only getting a quiet, “You can go home now Sasuke-kun, I’ll call you tomorrow.” He accepts that, shrugging in confusion before jumping out the window, disappearing out of sight.  He nurses the cup of coffee in his hand, stifling a yawn as he walks around the market, buying a few mochi for his mother, and dorayaki for his father. He knows Itachi eats dango at least once every two days so he doesn’t bother with that.  He continues on, shoulders slouched and exhaustion creeping on him, drowsily pushing his bangs out of the way, before stopping in front of team pyro, Kakashi murmuring to Obito’s ear as Shisui looks around quietly, which is so very uncharacteristic, since he knows they should be clingy.  He stares at the man in front of him, looking at the familiar features of his brother, eyes trailing the fluffy hair, making his hair look so soft, but he’s so unfamiliar, that the shock made him freeze in his tracks. He deserves a raise, he murmurs tiredly to his coffee, offering no words of greeting to his team, only standing in the middle of the street with dirt-ridden clothes, flak jacket frayed and the edges of his pants torn.  “Sasuke, are you okay?” Kakashi hesitantly questions, which he responds with a confused tilt of his head, only to be answered by Obito. “....you’re crying kid.”  Oh, he’s crying. That only seemed to make it worse, as a sob tumbles out of his mouth, making Shisui panicked, his hands fluttering, wanting to help, but he doesn’t know how.  Itachi questions his life, wondering if his brother is actually upset by something, or that his hair is so jarring that he brought a fully-grown man, a jōnin to tears, his brother nonetheless. He lets out a noise of worry, stumbling forward to catch his sniffling younger brother, the boy latching on to him with a tight grip, bawling on his shoulder.  He can only rub his brother’s back, feeling a thousand eyes boring into him, feeling glares for making his younger brother cry, which he wholeheartedly agrees with because what the fuck, he just made his younger brother cry. — “At least it’s gonna grow.” Shisui comforts himself, before Sasuke intervenes, the youngest already fiddling with Itachi’s hair, “That’s if he doesn’t cut it again.”  Shisui’s cry echoes again for the second time, the crows frenzied at the shrill voice. inspired by this fic : The day where Wilbur hid all the scissors in the house by @sircantus if you decide to check it out, it’s a sbi fic, and i really recommend you check all their other content. credits to them!! i just thought of this happening to itachi. 

[chosenimagines]

Our strength lays within words

Universe: Criminal Minds Summary:  A girl named Josie stumbles into the office area of the BAU and falls onto the chair at Dr. Spencer Reid’s desk

  Warnings: Mentioning of Stabbing and Bullying, Fear, Wound, Blood, Rage

Language: English Request: yes/no Requests [Open]

A/N: This one shot/imagine can be found as well on my wattpad^^

🖊️    🖊️    🖊️   🖊️

____________________________________________

Concentrated she put one foot infront of the other. In the process of doing so she tried hard to not let a moan in pain escape her mouth. The pain was worse than usual. But this day hasn't been any different compared to the previous ones since she has moved to Quantico. Whereas she hasn't had in her old school in Las Vegas any pleasant days either! Slowly she dragged herself from the elevator towards to the office area. She was heading directly to the desk of Dr. Spencer Reid. The moment she has reached the desk she let herself fall on to the chair. 

"Hey Reid! Isn't that your little sis over there?" Morgan nudged the young agent. Spencer furrowed his brows irritated. "Yeeeaaah.... That is indeed Josephine!", he replied. Morgan and Reid walked rash to Reid's desk. "Do you know what she's doing here?", Derek asked. He has seen Josephine only one time. It was the day Spencer received custody for his little sister. She has been standing in the middle of the conference room after they had returned from a case. Morgen remembered how lost the girl looked. "No! But I will find out in a seconde.", Reid answered. His walk became brisk and his speed increased. "Hey Josie!", Spencer welcomed his sister. One could hear that her showing up here made him suspicious. That was why he blurt it straight out! "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in school?" Josephine dropped her gaze. Reid and Morgan immediately knew what that meant. Josie felt deeply ashamed because of something that most have happened today. Nevertheless, she knew that it had no purpose to lie to her brother or to talk around it. For this reason, Josephine didn't remain silent how she would have liked to do. "I have been sent home.", she muttered into her Hoodie. "I knew that you aren't at home, and I didn't want to be alone! That's why I am here. I hoped to stay with your technical analyst and to do my homework." Josie still avoided to make eye contact with her brother and his friend. The shame ran way too deep. "You can go now if you want to." Reid knelt infront of the intimidated girl. He recognized himself in her current behavior. "But I can't get rid of the feeling that you want to tell me something, don't you?" Josie kept silent this time. She had nothing to say to Spencer. Of course she knew that he would find out sometime. Nevertheless, she didn't want to contribute to this! Besides, Josephine wanted to prove to her brother that she was as strong and intelligent as he was. Because of Josie's silence Spencer wanted to put emphasis on his words when his fingers brushed her hoodie, and he noticed a wet spot. Reid's fingertips were red. This discovery was alarming to the FBI-agent. His eyes scanned Josie's clothes and spotted on her stomach level a stain of blood which steadily grew. Shocked as she was Josephine pressed her hands against the stain. At the same time her sleeves moved up and dark bruises got exposed on her arms. "Josie, what is that?" Spencer didn't receive an answer from his sister. Not only because she didn't want to reply but also, she was about to lose consciousness. "I am going to get a doctor!", Morgan said and ran off. "I am sorry, but I have to do this!", Spencer said and pulls his sister off the chair on to the ground. He pulled her hoodie off her body. "Please lay down!" Josephine did as she was told. She wouldn't have had the power to dissent if she would have wanted to. "Hold on, Josie! Help will get here any seconde. But I have to stop the bleeding. That's why I am going to press on your wound." Josephine groaned because of the pressure Spencer applied on to her wounded body part. "I am so sorry!", Reid repeated every time his sister moaned and groaned. "Reid?!", Derek's voice shrilled across the entire office. "Down here!", Reid yelled back at his friend and colleague. "Hurry! She lost a lot of blood." The next moment the medicals were with Spencer and Josephine. "Listen! You'll need- HEY" Morgan pulled Reid away from his sister to give the first aiders room to do their job. "Morgan, let go of me! Let me go!", the agent demanded. He fought his friend's tight grip tooth and nail. "Reid! REID! You have to calm down. Josephine is taken care of, but you need to let the medicals do their job. We need to do our job and need to find out where your sister got injured!" Wrathful Reid rushed off. He directly went into the room where they kept their case boards. Derek followed him. Morgan watched how Reid thrustingly -almost roughly- moved the board to the place where he needed it. Spencer drew with a marker across the board. The result was a not straight, careless line. "Reid, what are you doing there?", Morgan wanted to know and pushed himself off the doorframe which he has been leaning against. "I am creating a timeline. You said yourself that we need to find out when Josie got injured!" Derek raised his hands defensively. "Put down the weapons, pretty boy! I just want to help you and Josie.", Morgan replied. "And you need to calm down to be helpful for Josie! At the moment you are not able to help anyone." "But-" "Reid, I know you want to help! But you need to slow down." A sigh left Dr Reid's mouth when he sat down on a chair. "Good!", Derek praised his friend. The agent couldn't say another word. "Let's begin!" Hotch entered the room followed by the rest of the team. "What do we know?" Penelope handed everyone their tablets which they used for their work for the BAU. "Josephine Emily Reid. A 16-years old student from Las Vegas. Daughter of Diana and William Reid. Our beloved doctor received custody for her half a year ago. Now she visits the Quantico High! She has excellent grades and is part of the Maths Heads what isn't surprising when you take a look at her relatives. Excluding a one-time appointment with the school psychologist in Vegas she has been unremarkable. And I mean literally unremarkable!" Penelope Garcia took a seat at the top the table. "She seems to have now contact and has been part of any club or team at her old school. Josephine may own some accounts in the world of Social Media, but she has never posted a thing." Now Spencer's head had processed the information. "She has been to a psychologist?", he asks hoarsely. Spencer hasn't known this. His face got pale! "Why?", Reid demanded to know. "I can't find anything about it. According to her student's record there has been some incident that has been solved." "AN INCIDENT?!" Again, Spencer's rage went through the roof. Morgan pulled Reid back down onto his chair. "You have to calm down! You need to remain calm like I already told you. Otherwise, you can't help Josephine." Reid leaned back grumpy and crossed his arms. He didn't participate in the talk anymore. His eyes were focused on his sloppy timeline which he drew within a few seconds. It suddenly dawned on him! "The school.", Spencer mumbles. "What are you thinking, Reid?", Rossi wanted to know. But Reid didn't answer. Instead of answering Reid jumped to his feet and rushed off. "I know where the problem is centered!", he yelled and left the room.

"Reid, could you explain what we are doing here?" "When I had to go to High School I have been bullied by my class mates -what cliché! My bullies went from psychological bullying to physical actions! I believe that physical actions are the problem here. I am convinced that Josie has been wounded from one of her classmates. I know her daily routine! Today she went from school straight to my workplace. She hasn't been home. Instead, she walked into a FBI-bureau because she got send home from school when she needed help." Loaded with rage Reid pushes students away. "Hey, Mister! You can't pass.", a Teenager said and blocked Reid's way. "I am only going to tell you this one time, Little One, before I am using violence to get you out of my way! I am an FBI-agent and I want to speak to your principal.", Spencer growled. Unnoticed from the surrounding students Morgan and Rossi got more near to their coworker. Just as Reid they wanted to enter the principal's office, but they wouldn't let Reid ruin his life because he might beat up a minor. The scared boy stepped a side and Spencer stormed into the office. Reid didn't get a chance to talk! Luckily Hotch immediately starts the conversation. "SSA Hotchner! The agents Morgen, Jareau, Rossi, Prentis and Dr Reid.", the head of the team introduced them to one another. The principal pushed his chair back and shook Hotches Hand. "Brown." Then Mr Brown looked at Spencer. "Reid? As in Josephine Reid?" Spencer nodded with clenched jaw. "Exactly." "We are here because of Josephine!", Hotch butted in again. "She showed up wounded and we want to know why you haven't called the ambulance for her." "I didn't know she was hurt-", Principal Brown tried to defend himself. Reid's patience broke in that moment. "How could you not know that she was hurt?! She had a stab wound that was bleeding strongly and her arms are covered with bruises! I can assure you that Josephine hasn't had them yesterday!", Spencer screamed. He was speechless! "What my co-worker wants to say that it is hard to not see that wound, and we are interested in the reason why you have sent Josephine Reid home.", Derek barged in. He slowly pushed his outraged friend behind himself. "I had to suspend Ms Reid for today.", Mr Brown explained to the BAU. Spencer snorted snarky. "The Reason?", Rossi asked. "She has hurt several students." "NONSENSE!" "Morgan!" Derek understood Hotches nonverbal request and went with Reid outside. They left office at the perfect time. "When I get Reid between in my fingers again, I promise you she won't get off as lightly as today. I don't want to get a black eye again to cover up that we were the ones to stab her." Morgan and Reid surrounded the students. "Get in there!", Morgan commanded. His authority flair was intimidating for the teenagers, and they followed the order. "Hotch, these are our unsubs!", Morgan informed his boss. "He confessed when we entered the hallway. They tried to stab her to death and covered it up with a black eye." "You will hear from me again.", Hotch said to the principal. Then the group of students got arrested.

"Spencer, what are you doing here?" Sleppy Josie blinked at her brother. "I wanted to tell you that we have arrested them." "Who?" Spencer took his sister's hand. "The students who did this to you." Josie's eyes widened. She couldn't believe it! Was it really over? Is this the end of the pain? "Why didn't you tell me that you are being bullied? I could have gotten you into a different school." Josephine sighed. That was the question she has been afraid of. "I didn't want you to worry. And I have to confess that I don't know it differently. Back in Vegas it has been like this as well and I tried to befriend some people but it hasn't worked out at both schools. Anyways! How could someone like me tell a successful genius who works for the FBI and saves regularly the world and makes it better that you are a total looser?" Spencer smiles to himself. "You are laughing about me.", Josie noticed sad. "No! I don't laugh about you. I am just surprised about how similar we are. I have felt as well like a looser when they hit me and talked me down!" Josephine would have never guessed that. Her brother has been bullied?! "Josie, our strength lies within communication. Our strength lies within words! We have to talk to each other to help one another." Josie hugs her big brother tight. "Thank you for being there for me!" "Thank you for being with me."

[madpanda75]

“Taking Chances Part 5: Busted”

Find out what happens when Sonny walks in on the reader and Rafael mid-coitus...cause what could be more embarrassing 😳 Also you’ll get some of Sonny’s perspective in this chapter.

Thanks for all the amazing feedback! If anyone wants to be added to my tag list, let me know ❤️

Sonny whistled a tune as he walked down the hallway towards your apartment. The law book. The pancakes. It was all a ruse. You had been avoiding your big brother for weeks. Further confirmed by the fact that you didn’t respond to his text the night before. Something was off and Sonny wanted to find out what it was.

Did he feel guilty about checking up on you? Of course he did, but you were his baby sister. It was only natural for him to be worried and he actually did leave his immigration law book at your apartment. So technically, he did have a valid reason for stopping by. At least that was what he kept telling himself.

While walking Sonny bumped into your neighbors just as they were leaving their home. “Hey...uh…Sandra and Tom, right? It’s Sonny Carisi. I’m just stoppin’ by to check on Y/N.”

Sandra scoffed and shook her head. “Hope you brought your ear plugs.”

Sonny knitted his eyebrows in confusion. “Ear plugs?”

“Good luck, pal.” Tom patted Sonny on the shoulder and left to catch up with his wife.

Sonny glanced between your neighbors and the front door of your home. He could hear the faint sound of music playing inside. Taking out his spare key, he opened your door and stepped inside. “Hello?” He called out, but there was no answer. Sonny assumed you were painting. You always played music whenever you were working on a piece, completely lost in your own creative little universe.

As he headed down the foyer, a wave of relief washed over him. Everything was fine. You were probably busy with the gallery and your art. He was just overreacting. Working at SVU, it was hard not to assume the worst. Unfortunately, the detective was reminded of what happened to people who make assumptions when he turned the corner.

Sonny froze in his tracks, shocked at the scene he was witnessing. There you were laying on a table with your back arched, moaning loudly while a dark-haired man’s head was between your legs. His sweet precious baby sister who would beg him to play Pretty Pretty Princess over and over again; who used to sing in the youth choir at St. Thomas. The teeniest feather could’ve knocked him over in that moment.

“Y/N?!” He exclaimed.

Upon hearing your name, you turned your head. “Sonny!” You screamed and immediately tried to cover yourself.

Sonny was horrified. It was like witnessing a car crash. The most horrific carnage-filled car crash. He silently prayed to God for a sudden bout of hysterical blindness. Although even with his eyes shut, the images he had just seen would forever be seared into his brain. He was going to need trauma counseling and wondered if perhaps his boss’s therapist was available.

Just when Sonny thought it couldn’t get any worse, the head of a certain sharp-tongue, sassy, snarky ADA popped up like some sick version of Whack-A-Mole. The man in question looked almost as stunned as the blue-eyed detective. “Carisi,” Rafael softly said and wiped his chin and lips—which were coated in your arousal.

When Sonny saw Rafael, everything suddenly clicked into place—the recent tardiness, the perfume. It was you. You were the mysterious hook-up the squad had been teasing Rafael about. Sonny choked back the bile rising in his throat and then he saw red. Fury flashed before his eyes. His fists shook with rage. Never in his life had he wanted to hit someone so much as he did right then. “RAFAEL?!” He boomed and dropped his bag of groceries. “What the fuck is goin’ on here?!”

You hopped off the table, quickly picking Rafael’s sweater up off the floor and putting it on.“Sonny?! Get OUT!” You shouted in a shrill voice and stomped your foot like a petulant child.

“Seriously, Y/N?! On Nonna’s table!” Sonny ran a hand through his hair, his eyes were wild.

Rafael cautiously took a step closer, not wanting you to catch all the heat from your big brother. After all it took two to tango and to be fair, he could understand why Carisi was upset. This certainly was not what Rafael had in mind when he wanted to break the news that you and him were dating. “Carisi, I can explain,” he calmly said.

“Explain my ass.” Sonny marched up to Rafael and got right in his face, prodding the ADA in the chest. “That’s my baby sister you’re defiling on a family heirloom,” he growled.

You moved in between the two men, recognizing by the tone in his voice that Rafael was seconds away from getting punched in the face by your brother. “Sonny, calm down.”

“And you!” Sonny looked you up and down while shaking his head in disapproval. “Is this why you’ve been so busy? Cause you’re more interested in fucking some guy than spending time with your own family?”

You drew a sharp intake of breath at his harsh words. Your brother had never spoken to you like that before. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, wanting the floor to swallow you up whole.

Rafael saw the hurt in your eyes and something inside him snapped. Before his brain could even process what his body was doing, he pulled his fist back and punched Sonny square in the nose.

“Oh my God!” You stood there with your jaw dropped open, completely stunned—at Sonny, at Rafael, and at Rafael’s fist colliding with Sonny’s face.

Sonny doubled over and pinched the bridge of his nose, tears welling up in his eyes. “My nose!”

“Don’t you dare speak to her like that,” Rafael snarled and clutched his fist, trying to flex his fingers, his knuckles red and swollen. “Fuck, my hand!”

The two men groaned in excruciating pain. You glanced between them, not entirely sure who to go to first, your boyfriend or your brother. “Wow, Ma was right,” you mumbled to yourself. “Men really are just overgrown children.”

Sonny glared at Rafael, his nose bleeding profusely and began to lunge at him with his fist in the air ready to counter-attack. Thankfully, you were prepared this time and jumped in between them both with your arms outstretched, palms pressing against each of their chests as you pushed them off each other.

“STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU!” You turned and pointed to Rafael. “You sit DOWN and don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Rafael immediately followed your orders, kind of turned on by your dominant side shining through, but now was not the time to tell you that.

You then turned to your brother. “You. Bathroom. NOW!” Sonny wouldn’t budge, muttering to himself in Italian as he tried to wipe the blood off his nose. “NOW!” You smacked him upside the head.

“Ow! Ok, I’m goin’! I’m goin!’” He held his hands up in surrender and headed down the hallway.

“Put those long limbs of yours to good use and walk a little faster then!” You said, hot on his heels.

Rafael could hear you both bickering all the way to the bathroom, your normally non-existent Staten Island accent coming out in full force. It was strange. He had never really noticed a family resemblance between you and Sonny until now.

*****

Sonny sat on the edge of your tub, nursing his swollen, tender nose. To stop the bleeding, you split a tampon in half and shoved each part up his nostrils. It wasn’t broken, but bruising was already beginning to form. He was gonna have a great time trying to explain two black eyes and a bashed-in nose to the squad on Monday morning. Who knew Rafael had such a killer right hook?

You walked into the bathroom—now dressed in your own clothes—and silently handed him a bag of frozen corn. In order to keep the peace, you had to put Sonny and Rafael in timeout. If it worked for your nieces and nephews, it would certainly work for your brother and your boyfriend.

“Thanks,” he muttered and held the frozen vegetables up to his face, wincing in pain. “Where’s Barba?”

“Still sitting at the table with his hand under a bag of frozen peas. You both owe me for groceries by the way.” You stood there, studying the tiled floor in silence before clearing your throat. “I better go check on Rafael.”

Just as you were about to leave, Sonny took hold of your hand. “Y/N, wait a sec, will ya’?”

You pulled out of his grasp and turned to face him, crossing your arms. “What is it?”

Sonny sighed and looked up at you with black eyes and a bloody nose. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I shoulda’ never said that. It’s just when I saw you and Barba. I freaked out. Please forgive me.”

You mulled over his apology for a moment, worrying your bottom lip. “I forgive you,” you replied before punching him hard in the left shoulder. Rafael had nothing on you. Over the years, your brother had done a stellar job teaching you how to fight. You may have been the creative, sensitive artist, but you could also quit your day job and become an MMA cage fighter if you wanted to.

“Ow! Jeezus!” He hissed in pain. “What was that for? I said I was sorry!”

“Rafael got a hit in and now it’s my turn.” You clutched your brother by the collar. “Don’t ever speak to me like that again or I’ll do worse. I’m a grown-ass woman and this is my home. My boyfriend can eat me out cafeteria-style and make me cum until I scream if I want him to!”

“Oh God! I didn’t need to hear that! Please do me a favor. Take somethin’ sharp and pointy and gouge out my eyeballs and puncture my eardrums, will ya’? Haven’t I been punished enough?” He groaned.

“For barging into my home and embarrassing me in front of Rafael? No, you haven’t.” You let go of Sonny’s shirt and sat down next to him, taking the bag of frozen corn and bringing it back up to his face. Your expression softened a bit. You loved Sonny with all your heart. His recent outburst aside, he was the best big brother a girl could ask for. “I shoulda never given you a spare key.”

“How did you two even meet?” He asked.

You shrugged. “He stopped by the gallery one day and then I ran into him again that night you and I were supposed to get dinner. The rest is history.” You softly smiled, thinking back to that first embarrassing encounter with Rafael and everything that followed. That first drink. That first kiss. Reflecting back on this past month, you realized that slowly but surely Rafael had changed your life for the better. “Guess you kinda had a part to play in all this. If it wasn’t for you cancelling on me. We may have never gotten together.”

Sonny pushed your hand away from his face. “Don’t say that. I don’t want to be responsible for this.” He sadly shook his head and got up. “I better get goin’.”

“Sonny, wait!” You followed him out of the bathroom and down the hallway.

He ignored you, tossing the bag of frozen corn on the table where Rafael was still sitting, flipping through Sonny’s immigration law book.

“Here’s your book,” Rafael said, handing it over.

“Thanks,” he sneered and snatched the book out of Rafael’s hands before heading to the door.

“Carisi!” Rafael called out.

Sonny whipped around to find the ADA right behind him. “What?”

“You have a tampon up your nose,” Rafael coldly replied.

Sonny’s cheeks turned bright red. He pulled the tampon out of his nostrils and tossed it on the ground before leaving.

You flinched when you heard the door slam and crept up beside Rafael. Wrapping his arms around you, he kissed the top of your head and sighed. “I hate to say it, but I knew we should’ve told him earlier.”

@glimmerglittergirl​ @southern-magnolia​ @sweetcannolicarisi​ @delia26​ @obfuscateyummy​ @sass-and-suspenders​ @eclecticminded​ @thatesqcrush​ @katmstanton​ @amirightcounsellor​ @beltzboys2015-blog​ @letty-o​ @sonnysdoll​ @lyssa1385​ @sweetsummertime99​ @burningsorr0ws​ @gibbs274​ @izzythefanfreak​ @riodallas​ @babypink224221​ @livxrafa​ @esparza-army​ @obsessionprofessional​ @ottosuricato​ @melsquared79​ @dreila03​ @frenchiefoxy​ @tropes-and-tales​ @thecraziestcrayon​ @goodluckfindingone​ @scarlettsoldier​ @amirightcounselor​ @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii​ @graniairish​ @ashley-chi​ @imjustreallynosy​ @lolacolaempath 

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Damage | Jack Avery

Warnings? Angst? Idk this isn’t good I’m sorry 

Requested? Yes! I hope you like it and if you want a part 2 pls let me know! 

Summary: Jack and you have been best friends since kindergarten. You two grow up together and eventually you become the photographer for his band Why Don’t We. During your job, you and Jacks bandmate Daniel get together. After a long time of dating though, Daniel gets jealous when fans continue to ship you and Jack and Jack’s feelings can’t help but resurface.

Word Count: 2,308 (it’s a long one with a lot of exposition) 

Part Two is here

Five Years Old 

“Jack! Come downstairs for your playdate!” Jack comes barreling down the stairs, nearly ramming straight into his mom and she laughs lightly. 

“Momma who's coming over?” He asks and she squats down to talk to him. 

“Momma's best friend has a daughter your age and we think you guys will be best friends.'' Just as she finishes talking, the doorbell rings and Jack goes running again. His mom takes off after him to catch up just as he's opening the door. 

"Hi Jack! Did you get taIIer?" (y/n)'s mom greets Jack warmly and he smiles. 

Jack's mom greets (y/n)'s mom and the two get caught up just long enough for Jack to stare curiously at the other girl. Before the two can get too antsy and run off, (y/n)’s mom introduces (y/n). 

“Jack, this is (y/n), (y/n), this is Jack,” The two wave shyly at each other and the two moms smile fondly at the sight. 

“Why don’t you two go play outside while we catch up?” 

Jack turns around and speeds off, (y/n) close in tow. He swings open the backdoor and straight for the giant play set in the back. The two run around, playing a sort of chase, up and down the slide, before getting tired and settling on the swings. 

“What’s your favorite color?” Jack asks.

“Pink!” (y/n) exclaims. “What about you?” 

“Green.” 

The two go back and forth like this and by the end, they’ve decided they’re best friends. When (y/n)’s mom comes to get her a few hours later, she protests, insisting she never wants to leave. The two hug tightly and part with the promise that you'll be over again soon. 

12 Years Old 

"(y/n)! Jack is here!" (y/n)'s mom yells up the stairs. 

Before she can respond, her childhood best friend comes barging into the room. He plops onto her bed, instantly relaxing and she turns from her spot at her desk to look at him. 

"What's up?" She asks.

"How am I supposed to ask Anna to the dance?"  He sighs dramatically and she smiles. She  stands up and lays down next to Jack. 

"Just ask her. She obviously likes you." She responds and he rolls his eyes.

The first school dance of the year was this friday and Jack had been freaking out about asking his crush to go with him for weeks. (y/n) had been trying to convince him forever but he insisted she was going to say no. 

"What if she says no?"

"Then you're sad for a bit and then you get up and party at the dance with me." That cracks a smile and the two are back to their normal activities. 

16 Years Old 

“What do you think we'll be doing ten years from now?” (y/n) asks Jack as she rolls over on his bed to face him. 

“I'll be a famous singer and you'll be a photographer. We'll travel the world together and live out our best lives.” She smiles, and Jack turns back around to continue working on his new song. 

As he works, she takes a few Polaroids of him and judges which ones to keep, add to her portfolio and which ones to give to Jack. Just as she sits back down, Jack's mom comes in and knocks on the door. 

“Dinners ready! (y/n) are you staying the night?” She asks and (y/n) looks over at Jack who nods and she copies the action. 

“Sounds good,” His mom says before disappearing again. 

Ever since Jack and (y/n) hit middle school years, they ended up sleeping over at each others houses. Their moms decided that they trusted the other enough for sleepovers, and soon they became a regularity. 

"We'll always be friends right?" (y/n) asks once the two are settled for bed after dinner.

"Always." He smiles and it goes straight to her heart. 

Present Day

"What do you guys have going on today?" (y/n) asks as the boys gather in the living room to leave.

"Meetings, interviews, more meetings." Daniel says while sitting down next to you and pecking your cheek. "You?" 

"A photoshoot and that's it.'' She tells him and he nods.

"Have fun my love." He says kissing her and standing up again. Jack comes up and kisses the top of (y/n)'s head and tells her to have a good day before leaving with the rest of the guys.

3 years ago (y/n)'s best friend had joined a band and ever since they've taken off. Millions of followers, several eps, an album, and another tour coming up here you were. Her best friend had traveled the world and she fell in love with his band mate. Life seemed perfect.

Ever since Jack had taken off in his career (y/n) hasn't been far behind. At the beginning of the band's career she had taken all of their photos. Overtime other artists and influencers have reached out to her and asked her to take photos for their own profiles. She had begun to take off with Jack by her side. 

That was also how she met Daniel. (y/n) first started staying with the band shortly after they all moved to LA and she picked up a few photography jobs. Daniel and her hit it off right away and three years later they were here. Taking on the world by storm.

The boys seemed to have never ending meeting that was starting to take a toll. Zach looked like he was going fall asleep, Daniel wouldn't stop tapping his pen on the table, Jonah was doodling, Corbyn was on his phone like he was still in high school, and Jack was daydreaming. They were usually better than this in meetings, but it felt like they had been going in circles for days. 

"Last two things," The execs say and an audible sigh can be heard around the room. "Your opener and your photographer. Who do you want?" 

"Wait, we can bring a photographer with us?" Daniel perks up and Jack does the  same. 

"Whoever you want." 

The boys come home that day more excited than ever. (y/n) had just gotten home from her shoot and was flipping through the photos she had taken when they came practically crashing through the front door. The loud noise causes her to jump, and she spins around to see them bounding through the door. 

“(y/n)!!” Jack and Daniel both yell at the same time and she sits up quickly. 

“What’s up?” She asks confused as to what the big commotion has been about. 

“You free for the next few months?” Jack asks.

Once the boys settle enough to explain that they would pay (y/n) to tour with them and take their pictures she practically has the same reaction as they did. She had been wanting to do a tour with an artist for as long as she could remember and now to have this opportunity especially with her best friends was a dream come true. 

We work out the details and (y/n) leaves the house practically screaming inside and out. This was everything to her and she couldn’t believe this was actually going to happen. She was also so excited to travel with her best friends and essentially make great memories for months. 

Two Months Later

“Do you have your laptop?” (y/n)’s mom asks, frantically turning around to look around her near empty apartment. 

“In my backpack,” She tells her. 

“Your chargers? Enough film? Your SD cards? Did you pack enough socks?” She asks and (y/n) sighs. 

“Ma,” She says and her mom smiles. “I got it.” 

“Okay baby I love you,” She says and (y/n) hugs her mom tight and promises to call as much as possible. Just as they let go, (y/n) hears the shrill beep from the boys car and grabs her bags. 

She heads down to the car, where Daniel and Jack meet her. They grab her bags and put them into the trunk before climbing back into the car and diving head first into a summer they would never forget. 

“Are you serious?” She asks. 

“Dead. Come on!” Corbyn begs (y/n) and she rolls her eyes but holds her camera up regardless. 

Her and the boys were stuck in the airport for at least another half an hour and came up with the brilliant idea to snap some photos while they waited for the plane. Corbyn grips his favorite pillow in his arms, offering a pleading look towards (y/n) as he insists it’ll be a perfect photo for his instagram. She relents finally, and kneels down, getting the perfect angle and snaps shot after shot. 

“Flight 247 to Las Vegas now boarding,” The overhead speaker announces and Corbyn and (y/n) spring up. 

Corbyn grabs his stuff and she follows, running over to where she left hers to find it gone. Her heart drops for a second before she hears a whistle. She snaps her head to the side, seeing Jack raising her backpack in his hand and she smiles gratefully before running over with Corbyn just behind her.

“Gonna need this to start the best summer ever,” Jack says, handing the backpack over with a wink and (y/n) sighs. 

When we land in Las Vegas, we head to the hotel first, dropping off our suitcases and getting everything settled. While (y/n) would get her own room, the rest of the boys had to share one way or another. But they were always on the same floor and ran around to hang out with each other in one room. 

“(y/n)! My beautiful!” Daniel yells walking into your room. “Wanna explore?” 

“Would love to.” 

Daniel and (y/n) head out together with a quick message to the groupchat where they would be. They decide to catch an Uber to the venue and dinner somewhere close considering they haven’t eaten since before they had taken off in Los angeles. 

Just as they get to the venue, Daniel takes her hand, carefully intertwining their fingers and leads her around the place. She can’t help it, and takes out her phone and snaps a couple of photos as Daniel walks in front of her and when he hears the familiar click of a camera, he turns around. 

“Oh come on,” Daniel jokes and (y/n) smiles sheepishly. 

“I can’t help it! You look great and the lighting is unique.” 

She gestures for Daniel to move and she plops down, snapping a few photos. When Daniel has had enough, he moves towards the girl and pretends to come at her like he’s gonna tackle her. She falls back and Daniel ends up hovering over her, a wide smile plastered across his perfect features. 

He leans down, placing a light kiss on her lips and (y/n) reciprocates by leaning up to deepen it. Just as she goes to reach her arms around Daniels neck, someone clears their throat. The two separate and Daniel rolls over to sit down next to her. 

“Am I interrupting?” Jack asks walking over. 

“A little,” Daniel says and (y/n) rolls her eyes. She raises a hand and Jack helps her up. 

“What were you guys doing?” He asks once she’s standing. 

“Oh I was just taking some photos of Daniel,” (y/n) explains gesturing to the scene around her and Jack nods. Over the years he had gotten used to spontaneous photoshoots and could practically spot a perfect picture spot as well as she could. 

“By the way, the fans are obsessed with our photos on instagram,” Jack mentions and Daniel tilts his head to the side. By now he’s moved so he has an arm around (y/n)’s waist and is staring curiously at the younger boy. 

“Corbyn wanted to use my camera so I let him take a few photos of me and Jack,” (y/n) explains looking at Daniel. “How bad are the comments though?” 

“Well,” 

For the past three months, every time Jack and (y/n) posted a picture together on either one's social media the fans went nuts. They “shipped” Jack and (y/n) like crazy and blatantly ignored (y/n)’s current relationship with Daniel. Some fans really just had no boundaries and Daniel was honestly getting tired, (y/n) was hoping to do damage control, and Jack was hoping his secret crush of 13 years wouldn’t get out. 

“Come on man, did you really have to post the photos? You know how bad the fans have been,” Daniel complains and you turn in his arms. 

“Woah, it’s not Jack’s fault they have no boundaries,” (y/n) says defending her best friend. 

“And you can’t tell me what I can and can’t post,” Jack snaps back. 

“Jack chill,” (y/n) says fully stepping out of Daniels arms to get in between the two boys. 

“What’s your damage?” Daniel asks and Jack takes a step forward causing you to take one back. 

“I think you know exactly what my damage is. Don’t act like you didn’t ask for this.” 

“You had your chance man. Don’t act all high and mighty now,” Daniel says and Jack rolls his eyes. 

“You’re one to talk,” He declares and pushes past Daniel and storms off. (y/n) stares at where Jack walks off for a second, shocked at the random argument that occured before turning towards her boyfriend. 

“What the hell was that?” She asks. 

“Something you don’t want to get into,” He responds before walking away. 

(y/n) stands there for a moment, unsure of what to do or even who to choose. What was that argument even about?

[cupsofsuga]

I can ask for a reaction to bts yandere when his gf is hurt by another yandere who is in love with him I hope you understand and thanks uwu

HEART SOLD  ━ YANDERE BTS REACTION*:･。.

WARNING - This is a yandere au, meaning the following may be triggering to some viewers.  I am not trying to discriminate the boys in any way, this is for entertainment purposes. Viewer discretion is advised!!!

Thank you for requesting, my love! 

P.S some of these contain a lot of gore, but nonetheless, enjoy!! xoxo

KIM SEOKJIN

━━━ Anger surges through his body and caresses his skin with its bitter touch. Pure, unadulterated rage. The clouds disintegrate, the galaxies start to crumble and all he can think about is this girl who has lied her filthy hands upon his lover, his everything, his soulmate. The tears are inevitable as the flow down her rosy cheeks, but he doesn’t care. It’s what the bitch deserves. She had touched you, hurt you, and if he wasn’t there, she would’ve gone further and potentially killed you. He scowls at the sore feeling in his heart once thinking about it, but he is quick to gather his thoughts. Jin refused to pay the thought any attention. After all, she should’ve known better than barging in uninvited. She should’ve known that touching you came with cruel, brutal consequences. She should’ve known his heart’s not up for sale.

You’re pulled into his deadly embrace, feeling his clothes soaked with blood against your body. You hug back, hands wobbly and heart pumping. And as you embrace him with fear in your bones, Jin tightens his grip with complete joy. Just by holding you sparks an undying light that warms and calms his stuttering heartbeat. He’s bleeding silver stardust and coughing up fragments of galaxies, and only your love will purify him.

“Oh God, Y/N… You’re ok! Thank god, you’re ok…! I-I-I don’t know what I would’ve done if you left me!”

MIN YOONGI

━━━ The room is white. A pure, unsettling white. Yoongi listens to the beeping; beep after beep that stutters his heartbeat. Wires upon wires are strapped to you in the isolated hospital room, he can spot the faint sight of bruises and scratches that litter your exposed skin. He stares, admires with a look so melancholically heartbreaking that the shatter of others hearts echoes. His entire galaxy is lying there. He sees planet after planet, stars upon stars and the sun that mimics your smile he so desperately craves to see.

And, god, does he feel guilty.

Guilty that he didn’t stop this girl before. Guilty that he wasn’t there to stop her from giving even the slightest mark on your skin. Guilty that he put you through trauma caused by him.Guilty that he wasn’t there in time to save you in time.

How could he have done this? How could he have let that absolute hellion lay their dirty hands upon his god/goddess? The guilt is suffocating and as much as he wants to put up his pale, small fists to fight back, his soul and body were far too weak and sore. Small, cherubic face adorned with luminescent tears, what a devastatingly beautiful sight it was to see. Broken sobs that linger in the room and the soft, hushed whispers of nonchalant words and begs was all caused by your pain. Yoongi sits on the end of the bed, watching in agony as you sleep with a pained expression on your features and desperately pleads to whatever god listening that you’d forgive and love him unconditionally.

“Y/N… If you can hear me, I-I-I’m so sorry!” He stops to breathe and cry, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against your hand, “I-I-I never meant for this to happen…P-Please, please forgive me…”

JUNG HOSEOK

━━━ Hoseok looks down to his hands, painted with crimson blood as they tremble like a fawn on legs. Had he really just done that? Had he really just taken the life of another human? The knife in his hands falls to the ground, hitting with a clang! that echoes through the bitter silence. He looks up to your frightened figure, seeing you looking down upon the girl with her face star-pale and cold eyes. But she doesn’t matter, Y/N matters. And he is so desperate for the slightest touch of their flesh that he reaches as far as he can, the consequences nonexistent.

“What did you do?” Their words come out quiet, hand-laced with the melancholy melodies of the moon.

This epiphany hits him like a train. He killed someone, yes, but that look in your eyes is what causes a tremble to erupt in his bones. They’re glossy, the chills from under your skin swimming in the depths of your irises. It’s a look of fear, loss, and as he stares, he can feel his essential need for you begin to strengthen. This infatuation cannot be unrequited, no, he simply won’t allow it. His tenacious grip on you is suffocating, but alas, there shall never be a single possibility of you leaving.

“Y/N…? I-I-… I’m so sorry, I-I had to do it…! Sh-She was gonna kill you…”

KIM NAMJOON

━━━ This girl was who shared an infatuation with Namjoon was beautiful. She was in every means a possible doppelgänger of a Greek goddess but those were not the thoughts that ran through his mind. All he saw was a creature so ugly, he scowled in disgust at just the simple thought of them. This annoying, obnoxious, desperate heathen was a human he refused to pay attention to, no matter how many times she practically begged on her knees for him. She isn’t worthy of his attention, only you are. She could never heal this ache buried in his chest, only you could. 

You live in this world of magical forests and seraphic galaxies while she lives in a world of broken down buildings and cloudy skies. You are in every means a pure and rich soul while she is dirty and selfish. She wanted him all to herself, and if that meant killing you, she would oblige for his sake. But just before the knife meets with your skin, a loud, deafening bang! pierces through the room, blood now soaked against your clothes. As the gun drops to the floor, Namjoon is quick to throw the girl’s limp body off of you as if she were just a doll and then hugs the human he loves with the entirety of his beating heart.

“Hey, Y/N… I need you to breathe with me, okay…? She… She was going to take you away from me and I couldn’t let that happen! I could never let that happen.”

PARK JIMIN

━━━ Jimin watches as the tall figure walks towards you, step after step, knife in hand. This girl’s intentions were crystal clear: kill you thence keep Jimin all to herself. His heart beats in an irregular way catching sight of this. It beats in a way it most definitely is not supposed to. It glows crimson red and blares out like a distressed alarm in an abandoned city, but, all he can do it stand and listen to the sound echo and reverberate against his eardrums. And once he puts together all the puzzle pieces, a shrill, ear-splitting scream of horror erupts from his throat. Two figures look at him, both in fear and the following events all come out in a blurred haze.

You watch, physically startled and threatened as he snatches the knife from her grip. Despite her struggle, he manages to plunge the knife directly in her neck, watching in delight as the light vanishes from her eyes. Blood paints his clothes and the cold tile under him. She collapses to the floor as the pool of blood grows and grows as he watches in satisfaction. His eyes snap up to you, then watching saturated tears flow down your cheeks with ease. Jimin’s confidence has now shattered seeing you in such a state and he is quick to stumble over to you lethargically. His arms now violently tighten around your waist. He is desperate, so desperate for even the smallest reassurance that you won’t leave him. But the damage has been done, his true colors have been shown, and there’s nothing left for him to do but yell and beg for mercy.

“Oh, God… Y/N, I-I-I-I… I-I’m so sorry…! Pl-Please, Y/N, j-just don’t leave me! You’re all I need, you’re all I have… If you leave, I’ll die!”

KIM TAEHYUNG

━━━ Kim Taehyung always showed how strong his devotion to you was. From becoming a love letter enthusiast to blowing his money on riches he most certainly can’t afford just for your sake. He practically exists for you! But, another soul has caught an admiration for Tae. Her letters were quickly discarded by him, never given a second thought, but once they start to turn obsessive and violent, he becomes more worried as they continue growing in his mailbox. They talk about the love they have for him and the utter hatred they have for you and the torturous things they wish to do to your precious, lionized life. And he is terrified, so fucking terrified for your life, he can’t think of anything else to do but flee.

You awake in a bed that most certainly isn’t yours, causing you to jolt from the sheets. A soft touch and delicate voice is what you meet with, reassuring you of your protected safety. Taehyung stares at you with sweet sorrow. Completely blissful for this new chapter with you but utterly anxious about the actions that may take place once he tells you he practically kidnapped you. With brows furrowed, you meet with Tae and ask him for answers. Where the hell were you? Why did he take you away from your home? With tears in his eyes, he answers.

“Y/N, hey, it’s ok. I’m here, everything will be ok… I must tell you, I had to do this. There was this girl… She was gonna hurt you, she was going to take you away from me! I couldn’t let that happen! But, Y/N…” He pauses, leaning down to put his head in your lap, “Please, just say you love me…”

JEON JUNGKOOK

━━━ Run, keep running. Run until you feel your lungs collapse and your knees give in. Run until your vision blurs and you can’t make sense of what you’re exactly running to. Run until you feel all your senses turn to ashes. You can’t see anything, can’t feel, can’t breathe, but you continue further. Keep going, keep going, keep going. The blood stains from previous, horrific events leave behind a tacky residue on your skin, but nonetheless, that was the least of your worries. You have to run away from the psychopath who claims to be your lover and find help!

Before you collapse and possibly black out from the suffering of your own body, you stop and let your knees hit the dirt. Your hands are painted with blood. It was not your blood, nor was it Jungkook’s, it was the girl who announced she loved him and would kill you for him. Your solution was to seek help for her, his was a decision more violent. He slit her throat with ease and you caught her before she could tumble to the ground. You held her, and you watched the stars and life leave her brown eyes. Junkook goes to reassure you, tell you his actions were absolutely necessary, but, you’re already off; gone into the woods to who knows where. You’re fast, but he’s faster. And as you regain strength and climb off the ground, two arms slither across your waist and tighten around you. You didn’t need eyes to identify who this was, you already know, and it’s already too late.

“Y/N.” his breath tickles your neck and you shiver in fear, “Please… Please don’t be scared. I would never hurt you, ever… I need you, Y/N, and I-I won’t let it end like this. I went insane without you…! A-And I won’t let you leave me, not again.”

[dancing-with-dichotomies]

my OCs never come out right but eh...

((And a bit I just wrote for her chapter...))

She almost began to resign herself to her fate, almost began to prepare for the worst, in her own mind... But then just ahead and off to the side, one of the doors to some random men's living quarters were left open. That wasn't uncommon, and Teresa was no more inclined to peek inside than she had been passing any other stranger's room, except for one thing... There was barking coming from that room. Shrill, piteous barking, verging on yelps at times. It made the hairs on the back of Teresa's neck frizz up and her heart sink down low to hear it, especially when they finally got to the door and she realized that the sound was coming from a tiny little dog, it looked to still be a puppy to Teresa, who was used to seeing mostly big dogs. People in her town mostly only kept a big dog for protection.

But this was a small breed of dog actually, a pet lapdog that had been stolen from his former master, a lady of wealth who unfortunately had not just lost the dog, but everything else, including her life, in a raid on her home. In the weeks since then the dog had been in his own personal hell, scared of everyone around him, not wanting to obey and having his captors steadily losing patience with him for it. Now they had reduced themselves to finding fun in 'teasing' him, they called it, by 'lightly' smacking him in the face to try and get the dog to snarl and try to bite back at them while another held him by the scruff of his neck so he couldn't get away. The dog was obviously trying to comply, snarling back weakly, but also it was exhausted, it had already had more than enough of the abuse for it's size, and it's 'snarls' were more like pleas, Teresa could almost swear she knew exactly what the poor creature was thinking even, 'JUST STOP! I HATE YOU! LEAVE ME ALONE!'

She just couldn't stand it. On the spot seeing it, without even thinking about the consequences or if she could even pull it off, she wrenched away from Fawson. He hadn't expected the girl to try anything, but certainly not to make a 'break' just to barge into some man's room, and so half in surprise and half in curiosity, he watched without immediately stopping her as she marched up to the new hire, right up to where he and his bunkmate where sitting on the bottom of a bunk bed cot, and grabbed the dog right out of their hands so quickly that neither men could believe there was even a woman in their rooms at first, let alone that she was doing what she had just done. And before they had time to register that she really had done it, and get the chance to be indignant about it, Teresa began to scold and berate them harshly, so angry she was on the verge of tears, "GIVE ME THAT POOR THING RIGHT -NOW-! HOW -DARE- YOU? HE'S SMALLER THAN A BABY!! WOULD YOU HIT A -BABY-!?"

She pulled the dog close to her bosom, it just felt so right to hold the poor little baby dog there, felt so natural to her to comfort the poor thing even though she herself was in such peril. And in turn, the dog, for the first time not just for the first time since his capture but the first time in his short little life so far... He really felt home with her. His previous master had seen him as a toy, a thing to collect. She would never have risked her life to hold him in her arms and protect him from harm like this girl just had, and then yell at his attackers too? His last master had been a big bosom lady too, but now Teresa's was the only bosom that little brown pup ever wanted to be cuddled by...

"H-Hey!" The man she'd snatched it from had the gall to get indignant about it, and even tried to put his hand in close to try and snatch the dog back. But as soon as he got close, the dog, who before had been sometimes snapping back but mostly cowering from the slaps, suddenly snarled at the man and viciously tore into the first finger that dared to come within range. Those teeth, little though they were, truly sank in this time, and then he threw his head about, tearing as much skin as possible, and causing the man to howl in pain and jump a whole two steps back to get away from the suddenly savage little demon dog.

The dog yapped several times before Teresa managed to calm it with a few gentle pats to the head, and then hugged it back under her neck, the dog nuzzling on her shoulder and shivering a little.

But the man with a now-bleeding finger didn't seem ready to give up yet, in fact a terrifying anger crossed over his eyes, and he took a step forward despite the dog's bared teeth, almost snarling like a dog himself, "Bitch who the HELL do you--?!"

Teresa thought for sure she was about to get slapped for her impudence. She hugged the dog tighter to herself though, determined that no matter how much he hit her, she wouldn't let him have the dog back...

But to the shock of everyone present, it was Fawson himself who stepped forward and caught the hand of the man who was about to strike her, glaring down at him intensely, with not outright hatred, but just pure disgust in his eyes. "You... I've forgotten your name. And THAT means you're insignificant enough aboard this ship to have been forgotten. NO DOUBT, it's because you've been shutting yourself away to waste time pissing off a MUTT. You also no doubt forgot what you were told when you were first hired -- YOU BREAK IT, YOU BUY IT. If you haven't worked up enough money to pay for what you've broken, it's considered stealing. Stealing from Greed is the ONE form of theft that is NEVER acceptable on this ship, and I already know you haven't worked NEARLY enough to afford breaking a girl that Greed actually took some interest in..."

The evil puppy-slapping bastard actually had the nerve to protest that, "I--I have been working! And I was just about to get back to it, but I want that dog back, I stole it fair and square in the raid on Riverton!"

Fawson didn't show him an ounce of sympathy, in fact his patience was clearly growing thin. "Are you not just lazy, but stupid as well? The other rule you should have remembered is that if someone manages to steal something from you-- You do WHAT, gentlemen?" He inquired to the two men directly behind behind Puppy-Abuser, dragging them into it to shame both the first man and get the others to realize they'd be in trouble soon too if it kept up.

A little wiser, they quickly sat up and mumbled under their breaths, answering Fawson but not very loud at first, "Y'don't be a bitch'bout it..."

Fawson suddenly barked like a savage dog himself, "LOUDER, GENTLEMEN! AM I SUPPOSED TO HEAR THAT AT MY AGE? WHAT DO YOU DO IF SOMEONE ELSE STEALS FROM YOU ABOARD THIS SHIP?"

Now all three men answered loud and clear, since they knew it would just be more trouble if they didn't, "YOU STEAL IT BACK ON YOUR OWN TIME OR ELSE YOU DON'T BE A BITCH ABOUT IT!"

Fawson still looked down on them with disgust, but it seemed to have lessened with their obedience. "CORRECT! Astounding! It seems THESE beasts can be trained after all..."

Teresa was just starting to feel the slightest sliver of relief, of hope, that maybe someone was looking out for her, at least just a little... But then Fawson quickly turned on HER, glaring down at her, standing up stiff to his full height to loom over her. "Bold move there, Ms. Barclay... But you'd do well to remember a short list of things here and now -- First of all? It means NOTHING that you've -briefly- attracted Greed's attention. Your temporary little ruse is amusing but it will not work for long. You are Earnest's new toy, but he always gets bored of new toys fast, so don't think you're special. And once you're not special anymore, you'll be back down here where you belong, and the same rules that apply to everyone else will apply to you... You either protect your own shit, or it WILL be TAKEN from you..."

His wrinkled gaze flickered down to the pup, but also briefly over her breasts before returning to glare into her eyes. She got the implication very well, as did the men behind her...

Fawson then sniffed derisively, and stepped out of the room again with no more than a simple, "Come." to Teresa, as if she herself was just a lost puppy following him around...

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

(( Poor girl is NOT having a good day here... XD;; ))

[hailqiqi]

Here

Look who’s back from a three month writing slump!

So I saw this picture by the incredibly talented @artemisarya and... I had to fic it.

This is really more platonic than shippy. Even though they’re naked.

Quick shout-out to @astraearose for the impromptu title help.

1,244 words / Hurt/Comfort

On AO3 here.

The shrill scream brought him back to himself with a rush of heat and steam and sound.

“Shit!”

His back hit the cooler side of the bathroom door seconds later, the image of a naked Pidge with shampoo in her hair bringing him more self-disgust than arousal. They’d been using the Castle’s shared bathroom for over a year now. How the fuck had he managed to miss the sound of the shower?

The same way he’d managed to miss—

“Lance?”

Pidge’s voice was gentle, and not nearly angry enough. Lance closed his eyes. Maybe he could pretend he’d left already, and then he wouldn’t have to face her. He could grovel in the morning. They could pretend everything was fine.

That plan went to hell when the door slid open. He flopped backwards with a cry of surprise, saved from an untimely meeting with the metal flooring only by the girl herself.

“Are you okay?! What were you doing on the door?”

“I…” Lance let her help him to stand upright before turning around, careful to avert his gaze from how she clutched at a towel to protect her modesty. “I...I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

I guess I’m good at that.

Pidge blinked at him, concerned. “Right. Look, you obviously need to…” she trailed off, glancing briefly at his chest before continuing. “Ah... shower, and I don’t mind waiting, so you go first, okay?”

Her words didn’t make sense. “I go first…?” he repeated. “But you’re already…”

“Yeah, but, obviously you need to wash more…” She gestured vaguely at his bare torso with her free hand. “And I’m like, half-clean already, so I don’t mind just calling it a night.”

Oh. Right. The blood.

She was already inching her way around him when he found the wherewithal to respond, something unpleasant curling in his gut. “No, you stay and finish. I’ll just wait.”

“Look, Lance, you obviously need to—”

“Stay,” he said firmly, grasping her shoulders and moving her back in front of him. “Please. I’d feel worse if I knew I’d kicked you out of your shower after barging in on you like that.”

Her mouth fell open, as if to argue, and he cut her off. “You wouldn’t be doing me any favours.”

She stared at him, disbelieving, and he looked away rather than meet her gaze. Wisps of steam floated in the air behind her, and the only sounds were the low humming of the ship and the steady drip, drip, drip where Pidge obviously hadn’t turned the water off properly.

Warm fingers curled around his. “You can join me, then.”

His gaze snapped to hers. “What—?”

“Don’t make it weird, Lance,” she huffed, already tugging him into the room and closing the door behind them. “C’mon. I’ll help you wash all that off.”

A part of him was grateful that she hadn’t said the word. The rest of him was too numb and overwhelmed to respond, his brain having given up the fight somewhere between ‘becoming a mass murderer,’ ‘almost dying,’ and ‘seeing his first naked woman in real life’.

It was shaping up to be a really weird day. Probably would have been more enjoyable if it wasn’t for the screams still echoing in his skull.

He didn’t protest when Pidge cast her towel aside and reached for his, her fingers making quick work of the knot at his waist. Then she pulled him towards the shower, pushing him towards the middle as she keyed in the settings for a shower like the ones they had at home.

Hot water hit his skin and he turned his face to meet the spray, the hissing of the shower muting the screaming to a dull buzz and washing away the last of his bravado. Behind him Pidge murmured a warning and he nodded mutely, barely acknowledging when her hands began smoothing soap over his skin.

Pidge cleaned his back slowly, her motions unhurried and meticulous. He could only imagine the mess his back was — from the way she scrubbed at patches, the blood must have been caked on thick — but Pidge made no comment, and Lance wasn’t brave enough to look down and see the red swirling down the drain. Lifeblood lost twice, now, because of him.

Instead he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the physical. The here and now. He’d always loved hot showers, even on the hottest of summer days, and despite the mission he could feel the weight in his heart slowly evaporate with the steam. The presence at his back and the gentle kneading of warm fingers against his taut muscles eased a small part of the tension knotting in his throat, and he was suddenly very, very glad that Pidge was with him.

“Thanks, Pidge.”

Her motions paused. “What for?”

“Just…” He lifted a hand over his shoulder, catching her fingers in his and holding them briefly. “For this.”

“Oh.” She chuckled softly, then pressed a soft kiss against his back. “Anytime.”

She resumed her work, steadily working her way lower until she finally nudged him to turn around so that she could work on his front. All he could do was admire her, drowning in an almost overwhelming wave of gratitude as she slowly cleaned the evidence away, treating his body with all the care and focus she bestowed on her beloved robotics. More, even. Clearly, more. He’d seen her work on countless robots, and she’d never looked quite like that, never so attentive and compassionate and caring.

He didn’t deserve it.

Her hands moved back up to his collarbone, a flash of red in his peripheral vision, and the knot in his throat suddenly became too much to bear. “Pidge, stop.”

She froze, hands still against his skin. “...Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“I…” No, no, not that. Never that. He removed her hand, letting it drop by her side instead. “I— I don’t deserve this. I missed.”

Pidge took a half-step back, her lips parted in a little ‘o’-shape as she studied him. Her eyes were full of concern — concern for him, but it was wasted. Who was he to stand here and accept her care? She was allowing herself to be naked before him, to be vulnerable before him, and he couldn’t even save—

The shower wasn’t helping anymore.

“Pidge, I missed,” he repeated, hoping she’d get the hint and leave because he didn’t think he had the strength to leave her. “Pidge, I missed.”

“I know.”

“Pidge, I missed.” She wasn’t leaving. Why wasn’t she leaving? “I missed, and they all died. All those kids died, because I missed the guy with the bomb.”

It was an easy shot. The sky had been blue, the weather perfect, but somehow he’d missed and then the next thing he knew the world had exploded in heat and noise and pain and the only thing he could process were the screams the screams the screams.

Pidge stepped towards him, gentle hands wrapping around his back and pressing him to her, pulling him back from the edge before he could fall too far. Lance sucked in a breath and they stood, frozen, echoing screams slowly fading into the sound of falling water.

When he couldn’t hear them anymore he swallowed, trembling, his voice barely a whisper.

“Pidge, I missed.”

She only held him tighter.

“I know, Lance. I was there.”

He buried his face in her sodden hair and cried.

[ravenryblack]

Sleep, Perchance...

A one-off fic - mostly CAOS canon Spellwood set after the birth of Judas with additional character and Faustus having not a very nice time. (Because because he’s a massive shit-lark) Liberties taken with his back story because basically nothing is said in the show.

Nothing explicit - mainly because it’s a very good writer indeed who can do well-written squealchy. 

Whilst the large, wrought-iron bath filled he undressed, hanging up his frock coat and trousers, hung up his tie on the tie rack, placed cufflinks into the tray, boots onto the shoe rack. His white undershirt was spotted with blood; he balled it up and took it into the bathroom, where he threw it into the laundry hamper. He added his underwear to the hamper and then lowered himself into the warm water, wincing as it reached the top of his back. Allowing his eyes to close he basked in the pleasure of the second-hand pain stretching out his legs beside the taps, extending his toes, becoming hard as he relived the afternoon with Zelda.

The sound of the baby crying cut through his reverie and he opened his eyes, moment ruined. And now Constance entered his thoughts. The child could have been conceived in this bath; she had liked to bathe with him, to wash his skin and his hair. Especially his hair, like it was her little secret that he had a thick mass of really curly hair, which he despised. He had indulged her in that, let her run her hands through it. She had never much indulged his excesses, she had wanted long, slow, gentle love making, constant reassurances that he cared only for her.  

He had often wondered why she had even married him, he had never hidden who and what he was, she could surely not have hoped to change him. Yet she had railed against him at every turn. He had married her, that should have been enough. Why hadn’t it been enough? For all his many dalliances he went home to her, she was the woman who bore his child.

He dunked his head under the water, wiping his hands through his hair and down his face as he reemerged. His son was still crying in the other room, louder and more shrill now. Pulling himself up and out of the bath he walked through his room and opened the door, ‘Arabella,’ he yelled, then walked down the corridor, shedding water, as he barged into the nursery.

Arabella was by the window, holding the boy who was wailing, ‘What are you doing woman?’ he demanded, ‘He sounds distressed.’

‘I’ve fed him, changed him, he’s warm.’ The young woman was rocking back and forth, trying to soothe the shrieking boy, her eyes wide at the sight of the priest, dripping wet, naked and angry. This was a prestigious role to have taken but she was frightened of Blackwood. He was demanding and impatient, wanting only the best for his son and not certain she was supplying it.

‘Give him to me,’ he demanded, holding out his hands, those hands with the huge nails. Cautiously she held out the baby and Blackwood took him, gathering up the blanket against his wet chest. Judas struggled a little, still screaming, his little hands pressing to his father’s bare skin. Blackwood took away the blanket, bringing the child’s bare legs and arms against his skin, then sitting down in the arm chair. Arabella remained by the window, trembling, fearing that she would be sacked so soon after her arrival. Her previous employers had offered her services to the High Priest after the death of his wife, praised her diligent work with their own children. Of course he had accepted and she had found herself here, in this place with Faustus Blackwood, looking after the little boy.

Not that he spoke to her that often. He liked to spend time with the child in the evenings but seemed happy to hand him back to her. Her work had never been questioned and he had not made her feel as uncomfortable as she currently did. He was always so deftly styled, his clothing just so, his black hair slicked and side parted. Here he sat naked, with his hair falling forward over his face, great red marks across the his back.

‘He wants skin contact,’ Blackwood stood and crossed to her, tugging at her blouse She recoiled as if he’d burnt her. ‘I want to put him against your skin, not caress your breasts you silly woman.’

She opened her blouse a little and took the boy from him. Blackwood regarded the young woman. She had worked for the Starlings for 6 years, straight out of the Academy. He barely remembered her as a student so unremarkable had she been. She was a lumpen, plain woman who seemed frightened of her own shadow but until tonight she had been good with the boy. The Starlings had insisted she come to him given his circumstances; she had done sterling work with their three children after all.

‘Have you ever been with a man?’ he asked. She looked up, meeting his gaze with large, dark eyes.

‘No.’

It did not surprise him, she barely spoke and seemed content to sit and read rather than socialise. She was not an attractive woman although she was soft and rounded in all the right places.

‘I saw you looking at me…’

‘Looking at you, Father Blackwood?’ she asked incredulously. Where was she supposed to look. He was standing there without any clothes on after all.

‘Do you like what you see?’ He knew there was plenty to like, apart from perhaps his hair, but that was still wet and had not yet sprung up in errant curls. He raked his fingers through it, brushing it back into some semblance of the style he sported when it was dry and oiled.

Arabella’s eyes widened and she shook her head, then nodded, then made a weird noise.

‘You should not be ashamed to look, the Dark Lord encourages our nature.’

‘I wasn’t ashamed...I just...do they all look like that?’

‘What?’

She nodded downward.’Um...what were you expecting? Mine is moderately larger than most. Women enjoy…’

‘So they all look that...funny…’

‘Funny?’

‘Like an afterthought....’ she blurted, nodding at the ‘afterthought’.

‘A…’ he opened his mouth, then closed it again, ‘I am going back to my bath.’

‘Your back looks sore. I have a balm...if you wanted…’

‘No…’ He pulled the door closed behind him and headed back to his bath. With more hot water added he settled in once more. Cheeky bloody woman. He’d been too flabbergasted to manage a response. Although perhaps it served him right for cornering her in such a way when she was obviously uncomfortable. Funny though. Funny!

He did not stay in the bath much longer, washing his hair and skin, then brushing his teeth. The bed beckoned once he was dry but he still felt irritated with the annoying woman. Lying in the darkness he felt the emptiness of the bed, the absence of the woman he had shared it with for so long. He had married her for all the wrong reasons of course, because she was from the right family and not because he loved her but he’d cared for her in his own way and her death had left a yawning gap in his life.

His back ached; Zelda had been especially harsh with her punishment catching the top of his buttocks and he was struggling to get comfortable. First one side, then the other but the skin was taut and sore. Now he was too hot. He pushed the bedclothes away and a cool breeze played across his skin; until he was then cold and dragged the bedding back.

Sleep eventually dragged him into its embrace but he found himself in the wood, naked, alone. Mist swirled around his feet, chill creeping up his body, a sense of someone nearby.

‘Who’s there?’ he demanded, turning around several times.

Laughter. Several women laughing; mocking laughter.

‘You didn’t really think she’d come did you?’ the voice called, ‘To be with you.’

Something struck his shoulder and bounced off, scraping skin and spraying blood as it collided with him. He tried not to cry out as another rock struck him in the back of the head but he felt suddenly sick and faint, dropping to his knees as he clutched his head, blood running freely through his fingers.

He was awake then, sweat slicked, his heart pounding. These things were sent by Dark Lord to test his resolve, to remind him of his human weakness. There was a glass of water on the bedside table and he drank several mouthfuls before rising from the bed and opening the window, allowing the night air cool his skin.

He could hear his son crying again, and walked along the hallway to the nursery. Only Judas was fast asleep, his eyes moving back and forth beneath the lids. He stroked his fingers across the boy’s soft black hair, wondering what he was dreaming about.

‘Father Blackwood?’ the stupid girl asked sleepily from her bed by the window.

‘I heard crying.’

‘No, he’s been fast asleep for hours.’

‘I definitely heard crying…’

‘Are there ghosts here? Your wife miscarried also…’

‘Why would unborn children haunt this house. The Dark Lord will have taken them into his care. You didn’t hear anything?’

‘No.’

‘Maybe I dreamt it then. Go back to sleep.’ He returned to his own room, even more unsettled now. He lay in the darkness, waiting to hear the child once more but there was only the hoot of an owl outside.

Dark Lord let me sleep.

Maybe self pleasure would relax him enough to sleep. If the damn thing would show any interest. It perked up a bit but his mind was swirling with thoughts of a nature that were not conducive to an erection and it flopped back defiantly soft.

Bedding off, bedding on, left side, right side, back, one pillow, two pillows.

Fuck it.

He got up, dragged on his bathrobe and went down the stairs to his library where he switched on a lamp and settled into his armchair to read.

Which was where Arabella found him the following morning, asleep in the chair. She was loathe to wake him but the housekeeper,Mrs Orwell had asked where he was as breakfast was to be served. He looked peaceful, his hands on top of a book in his lap, His hair was sticking up at all angles in soft springy curls. No wonder he oiled it all down. It softened his face considerably, made him look less harsh. Not the image he wanted to present.

She touched his hand and his eyes opened with a start. The book clattered to the floor, narrowly avoiding his bare feet.

‘Breakfast is served,’ she said. He stood, tightened the belt on his robe and hurried away. Arabella went to feed Judas and get him ready for the day, wondering if she would be keeping her job after her ridiculously blurted comment. But what had he wanted her to say. She supposed that she found him nice to look at, which she didn’t. She couldn’t imagine wanting him to touch her. With his funny thing. He had actually looked upset when she had said that.

When he appeared to say good morning to his son he was back in control of everything, his clothing and hair just so. She wondered if she should apologise. He took the boy from her and held him for a while, walking to the window, talking to the child quietly.

Arabella tidied up a little, although the room was already tidy.

‘Zelda Spellman is coming later, to check on him. Ensure he is presentable.’ He handed her back the boy.

‘You look tired, Father Blackwood.’

‘You’re not paid to make comments about me, girl. You’re paid to take care of my son.’

‘It was an observation...not a criticism…’

He moved a step closer to her, ‘You need to learn your place. I wonder now if I was offered you as you caused problems to your previous employer.’

‘I assure you I did not.’ She had liked them. They had treated her like one of the family, not a servant. Mr Starling had never appeared in her room with his maleness on display and asked if she liked the look of it. ‘I was considered one of the family.’ Maybe if he sacked her she could go back there.

‘I will be in my study most of the day. Bring him to me at 1.’

‘And Madam Spellman?’

‘She and I have...matters to discuss beforehand.’

*

Zelda was shown into his study and found him asleep in the chair. She stood for some time, watching him there, his hands folded in his lap, his head resting against the winged side of the chair. His eyes were moving beneath their lids, long eyelashes dark against his pale skin. Her lust for him was profound, as was her equal dislike of him. She wondered what was running through his mind as he slept and she hoped he was being quietly tormented. She had hurt him the previous day, the pleasure not so pleasurable for he had asked her to stop as the tails had licked around his lower back and across his pale buttocks. She had ridden him afterwards, knowing that his skin was abrading on the carpet with every delicious movement. He’d even given a little whimper at one point.

She sat down in the chair opposite. Perhaps she should simply let him rest and visit the baby instead. Or perhaps not. She moved behind the chair and trailed her fingers through his hair, leaning down to whisper his name. He woke with a start, turning to look up at her. “Zelda. How long have you been there? You should have woken me.’

‘I just have,’ she smiled. ‘I wanted you well rested.’

He stood, traced his nails through his hair, ‘I thought we might avail ourselves of my bed today.’

‘Are you sore, Faustus?’

‘I thought it would make a change. We could share a bath first if that takes your liking?’

Yes, he was sore.

He led her up the stairs and into his private chamber, the room he had shared with Constance until recently. There were still traces of her about the place, including a photograph of the two of them. He saw her eyes alight on it and immediately placed it face down.

‘Guilt, Faustus?’

He gave a dry laugh as he pulled off his tie, ‘None.’ He flung the tie behind  him as he went into the bathroom and began to run the bath. Zelda unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, tracing her finger down his sternum, through the valley of dark hair nestled there and on down.

‘I heard a baby crying last night,’ he said as she reached the waistband of his trousers.

‘Judas?’

‘It wasn’t Judas. He was fast asleep.’

‘A dream then.’

‘The twin…’

‘The twin?’ Zelda struggled to keep the concern from her voice.

‘You said there was a twin, that it was absorbed…’

‘Yes...it was probably just a dream, Faustus, a phantasm.’

‘The girl...the stupid girl suggested it was the unborn children...but they will be with the Dark Lord.’

What was this? Doubt? Guilt? Certainly confusion.

‘The Dark Lord will have taken care of them, Faustus. You know this.’ She stopped the taps.

‘I am burdening you with my thoughts, Zelda. I apologise.’ he gave a slight smile, ‘When you have come for pleasure.’

She watched him as he climbed into the bath, traced the marks across his back with her eyes, the blood scabbed across his lower back where she had been at her most devoted.

‘Are you not coming in?’ he asked.

‘Of course I am.’ She undressed and stepped into the tub, at first facing him but he turned her around, drew her down between his raised knees and then back against his chest.

What was this? She wondered. His cheek was pressed against hers, ‘You know that I’m trying to do the Dark Lords will don’t you Zelda, to strengthen the Church of Night.’

‘Faustus, are you having a crisis of faith?’

‘No...I just want you to understand. I need your strength whilst I make the changes necessary.’

Zelda no more believed that than he did. What he needed, wanted, was someone to satisfy his lust for a while. It suited her to be here, not least because she enjoyed it. Faustus faults were many and varied but his arrogance would not allow him to be anything but indulgent with his lovers. To imagine that he left them unsatisfied would be a sin in his eyes.

The sound of the bedroom door made them both jump and he rose quickly from the bath and out into the bedroom, shouting, “What are you doing here?’ then ‘ Answer me.’

‘I was looking for Judas teddy bear...I can’t find it and he’s upset.’

‘Why would it be in here?’

‘I didn’t know if you brought him in here.’

‘If you want to join me in my bed just ask girl, not make excuses, and don’t sneak around.’

‘I don’t...I wasn’t…’

‘I’ll expect you later then. When Judas is asleep.’ he gave a wicked laugh.

‘No...I…’

He opened the door and let her out, her face a mask of consternation.

‘Faustus that was cruel. That poor girl is obviously still a virgin. Such  a plain little thing.’ Zelda said behind him. ‘Don’t make her think she’s expected to attend to you as well as your son. It’s not very becoming of a High Priest. It was unnecessarily cruel.’

‘She irritates me. She’s so so insipid, more like a mortal than a witch. What man would want that. She’s frightened of her own shadow.’

Zelda picked something up off the floor and threw it toward him. It was a small, plush bear. Faustus caught it and then placed it on the bedside table. He would return it later. When he had finished here.

*

Zelda left him half dozing in the bed and walked along to the nursery where the sad faced, dumpy girl was playing with Judas. ‘Madam Spellman, I was unaware you were here.’

‘Let me look at him,’

Arabella handed the child to the older woman, suspecting the reason Father Blackwood had been undressed in the middle of the day had somehow involved Zelda Spellman.

Zelda talked to the boy for a while, pointing at things out of the window and naming them. ‘Are you frightened of Father Blackwood?’ She asked suddenly.

‘A little.’

‘He would not force himself upon you. He would see that as…’ she pondered a moment, ‘A failure of his allure.’

‘His allure? Is that what he has? Did you know he has very curly hair? It’s quite ridiculous.’

‘What’s ridiculous?’ Blackwood growled from the door.

‘We we’re discussing the mortals and their false god,’ Zelda said casually.

‘Well yes that is ridiculous,’ he agreed, walking across to Zelda and taking his son from her, smiling at the boy as he handed Judas the little bear. He handled the child with genuine care and delight. Zelda suspected Judas would be a spoilt brat but that was not her concern. She regarded the dumpy nanny who was tidying up some toys from the floor and suspected all was not as it seemed. The girl had come highly recommended from another high ranking family but despite her seeming meekness Zelda was not so sure. She also could not get the idea of him with curly hair out of her mind. It just didn’t go with his carefully crafted veneer - no wonder he slicked it all down. She could barely contain her amusement at the imagery.

‘He’s looking well anyway, Father Blackwood. I will leave you to your work.’

‘I have some lessons to review before Monday,’ he agreed and handed his child to Arabella.

‘Probably time for some lunch for you,’ she said to the baby and set to her work.

*

It was snowing, great flakes of white landing on his bare skin and melting. Holding his arms across his bare chest to try and contain the warmth he waded through the snow that was up to his ankles, barely able to feel his feet anymore, disorientated, fear rising.

Trees crowded in around him, every direction indistinguishable from another, the only sound that of his ragged breathing and the crunch of his feet through the fallen snow. He kept on walking, hoping to arrive somewhere he would recognise, a clearing or a path, some way out of this interminable forest. Snowflakes settled on his eyelashes and he brushed them away, pushing his sodden hair back from his face also.

Then he saw the flicker of movement amongst the trees and stopped, again wiping snow from his face to better look. Another movement amongst the falling snow and he moved himself behind the wide trunk of an oak, leaning back against the gnarled bark, trying to control his breathing and his racing heart.

After a moment he peered around the tree but there was only the silently falling snow. Then a voice, barely audible, calling, ‘Faustus.’ in a soft, mocking tone. ‘How did you get to be High Priest then? Someone like you?’

He closed his eyes, he could not simply stand here. He would freeze to death. Pushing away from the safety of the tree he started to walk once more.

‘Where are you going little Faustus?’ the voice laughed, ‘Running away?’

Movement in the trees once more, closer this time and it took all his resolve not to run. ‘Your father is with the Dark Lord. He still thinks you’re a whiny little failure. How much better it would have been for everyone if your brother have survived. You were always the second best. How long did it take you to make your wife pregnant and even then you gave her babies that could not survive. Never quite good enough as always.’

A shape ran across in front of him and this time he did turn and run, flailing through the trees, hearing the laughter behind him, getting closer and closer.

And then the ground fell away from him and he was falling down an embankment, rolling over and over, snow filling his mouth and nose until he came to a rest, laying on his back, gasping for air, blood in his mouth.

‘You’re a fraud, Faustus.’

‘Why don’t you face me,’ he called back, ‘You coward.’

‘You were the one who ran like a terrified little girl. Look at you laying there. You tell yourself that you are something special but you’re just the same pathetic little boy who could never be as good as his brother. Whose father despised him.’

‘I’m the High Priest. I have a son…’ Faustus raged.

‘And what will he be like I wonder? Pathetic and second best. Just like his father.’

A baby was crying. His baby. His son.

He was awake then, lying in his bed, the sound of the crying baby still ringing in his ears. He was drenched in sweat, his heart banging against his chest, breathing ragged and loud in the darkness.

He waited for Arabella to get up to tend to the boy but the crying only intensified so he slid from the bed, pulling on a gown before walking along the hallway to the nursery. Opening the door the crying ceased. Judas lay in his cot fast asleep, his little fists balled up beside his head, the black teddy beside him, his blanket tucked in still suggesting that he’d not been troubled recently.

Arabella too was asleep, curled on her side. He sat on the edge of the bed and touched her shoulder to wake her. ‘I heard the baby crying again.’

‘I didn’t wake, is he alright?’ she said anxiously

‘He’s asleep. You didn’t hear the baby?’

‘No. I was dreaming.’

‘What about?’

‘I was on a beach in the sunshine. There were 4 people, far away along the beach, a couple and two children.’

‘Did you know them?’

‘No. It just seemed that the parents had lavished all of their care on the older boy. The other was left with the scraps of their regard and he stood apart from them despite being part of their group. The older boy was almost beautiful in appearance with blond hair, the other boy dark, lugubrious, with curls. As if they were light and shade.’

‘We are all light and shade. We are flesh and weakness. And the Dark Lord forgives us that, because he recognises that is our nature.’ He was shivering, despite the robe he wore. He lay down and pulled her covers over himself, facing away from her, knowing that he would near the ghostly crying in here.  

Arabella lay looking at the back of his head for some time, listening for the change in his breathing, knowing finally when he had fallen back to sleep.

She reached out her hand and pushed it through the soft curls of his earlier washed hair, ‘Sweet dreams, Faustus,’ she whispered and then rolled over with a small smile, closing her own eyes once more.

[vilevenom]

How about “you’re not going to starve yourself on thanksgiving?” W/Mystery skulls?

Ow. I hurt my own heart.

Vivi stomped her foot on the floor outside of Arthur’s bedroom, glaring the door down, as if she could make it disappear with her sheer force of will alone. “Arthur, come out here, right now! We’re leaving in a few minutes, and you are coming with us, damnit,” she snapped at the door, slamming her fist into the wood a few times.

“Just go with Lewis, Vi,” Arthur’s voice came back through the locked door, sounding resigned and tired, “He doesn’t want me there, and I’m fine by myself. Lance was never big into thanksgiving, so I’m not missing anything.”

“Yes you are! Lewis told me about how we used to go to Pepper Paradiso every year, since my family waits until the weekend and your uncle couldn’t cook a turkey to save his life. And I know you haven’t even eaten yet today, Kingsmen! You’re not starving yourself on thanksgiving because of some messed up guilt complex you still have! Get out here!” Vivi smacked the wood once more, ignoring the slight ache in her palm from it.

“It’s not a stupid guilt complex, Vivi! Lewis and I still aren’t exactly on the best of terms, and you know it. And, yeah, used to is the key phrasing there. When you guys started to get serious, I stopped going to those dinners. Your argument is sort of invalid since you still don’t even have all of your memories back, yet,” Arthur called back.

Vivi let out a shrill cry of frustration at the door that blocked her from smacking the blonde around, and instead opted to storm down the hallway and glare at Lewis, who was sat in their armchair looking somewhat put upon. He jumped when she stomped over to his seat and yanked him up by the cuff of his sleeve. “You go talk to him! He won’t listen to me because he thinks you don’t want him to come, and he’s being a stubborn jackass and locked me out,” she seethed, pushing Lewis to the hallway.

Reluctantly, the purple haired ghost let himself be pushed, turning to watch Vivi go back into the living room to scream into a pillow, before heading to Arthur’s bedroom door with a sigh. While it was true enough that he knew about the demon possession in the cave now, and he and Arthur were fine coexisting in the same household, that wasn’t to say the two of them were even close to where they once stood in their friendship. If Lewis was being honest with himself, he really didn’t want Arthur to go to dinner with them, and had hoped Vivi would drop the whole thing more easily. Turning his back to Arthur still made him uneasy, and he knew his true form left the blonde quaking more often than not. It would’ve been a whole lot easier if he had’ve fudged his recollection of their past holidays and not included Arthur in this particular family tradition. But that wouldn’t have been fair to Vivi.

“Arthur?” Lewis called out, lightly rapping his knuckles against the door, not wanting to barge in on the blonde and potentially startle him, “Arthur, come on. You’ve got Vivi screaming into a pillow. You need to come out so we can get going. My sisters will start to get into the potatoes and make a mess if we don’t get there in time.”

A long pause followed Lewis’ words, before Arthur finally responded. “Just go without me. Please. I’ll be fine.”

Lewis rolled his eyes before simply phasing through the door, the dimness in the room making him blink so his eyes could readjust. He hadn’t been in Arthur’s room since the cave incident, so seeing how much had changed threw him a little. Where there was once car schematic print outs and photos pinned to the board above his desk, now there were only blue prints for his mechanical arm and maps of the area around Tempo, scribbled on with various coloured pens. The tools that were once haphazardly strewn across his desk were now neatly lined up or tucked into a tool box, and the chili pepper lights Lewis had helped him hang around his window ages ago were nowhere to be found.  The floor was clean of the heaps of dirty laundry that once covered it, and Galahad’s cage had grown substantially with additions that snaked down to the floor to give the hamster room to exercise, though said hamster was currently in the top corner of his cage, as close as he could get to where Arthur was sat on his floor, huddled into a ball against the side of his bed. There was an open shoe box next to the blonde full of the pictures that Lewis knew used to be up on his pin board, a few scattered on the floor as though Arthur had been looking through them before turning into a ball.

Lewis floated forward to get a better look at the photos, frowning slightly in guilt at the fact that they were all taken during holidays the three of them had spent together. Smiling and happy in every photo, save for one separated from the rest on the floor, with only Arthur and Vivi in it. Arthur looked tired with dark circles under his eyes, though he had a crooked smile on his face for the photo, Vivi squishing him next to her and making a funny face at the camera. She had a tiny candy cane stuck to her cheek, so it must have been last Christmas, while he had been wallowing in the cave. Lewis’ stomach twisted at seeing Arthur in the picture obviously trying to be happy for Vivi, juxtaposed to Arthur now, who had yet to realize that Lewis was even in his room, looking tiny and miserable. The fact that Lewis had even thought about excluding the blonde, after an entire year of working himself to the bone to try and find Lewis, made him want to puke. He and Arthur used to be nearly inseparable, even after he’d started dating Vivi. He’d heard what Arthur had told Vivi earlier, and it hadn’t entirely been a lie. He had missed out on the last thanksgiving before Lewis had died, but it had only been because Arthur had been sick with a bad cold and didn’t want to get the Pepper girls sick as well. Lewis and Vivi hadn’t even stayed at Paradiso long, and had brought Arthur home enough food to nearly recreate the feast set out at the restaurant. He’d never wanted to leave Arthur out, not until now, letting his lingering bitterness get the best of him.

Finally, Lewis took real stock of how Arthur looked. It was somewhat difficult with how the blonde was curled into himself, but Lewis could see how much weight he had lost, with the way his shirt clung to his frame and draped strangely near his stomach. When he’d still been alive, Arthur was certainly lean, of course, but with how he and Vivi had forced food at him near constantly, he’d never looked thin the way he did now. It made his anchor throb against his chest to think that Arthur still wasn’t letting himself heal and get better, even though Lewis was back, and he knew it was in part his fault. He tended to avoid Arthur the same way the blonde avoided him, and with the way Lewis tended to entrench himself in the kitchen, it was really no wonder Arthur apparently wasn’t eating. And Lewis hadn’t exactly made it a mission to rekindle his friendship with Arthur the way he was working on his relationship with Vivi. He’d forgotten just how much Arthur needed them. They were his only family after Lance, and Lewis had been making little to no effort in making sure that Arthur even still considered himself their friend. As a matter of fact, he’d been making an unconscious effort to push Arthur away, with the way he’d been acting.

“Arthur?” Lewis finally announced his presence, making Arthur jump and curl into himself further, ducking his head down to his knees. “Arthur, we’re going to be late. You need to get ready.”

Arthur simply shook his head, wrapping his arm around himself, trying to make himself as small as possible. It made Lewis want to wrap him up in a hug and never let go. Instead, he opted for kneeling next to Arthur and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Artie. Everyone is waiting.”

Arthur hissed a breath out between his teeth, lifting his head high enough so he could speak without being muffled, but not looking at the specter next to him. “Look, Lewis. You and I both know you don’t want me to go and you’re only doing this because Vivi is upset, so just…I don’t know, tell her I’m sick or something so she’ll let you go. I’ll be fine here on my own.”

Lewis unconsciously tightened his grip on Arthur’s shoulder, making the blonde flinch and jerk away, which caused Lewis to pull his hand back as though he’d been burned. He looked contrite as he tried to figure out what he could say or do to soothe Arthur, fretting even as the blonde finally turned his face to look at Lewis, a forced smile on his face and dried tears on his cheeks. “Paprika is going to insight mashed potato wars if you don’t get going soon.”

Lewis couldn’t help himself when he finally saw just how tired and gaunt Arthur’s face looked, yanking Arthur into a bear hug and nearly crushing the blonde to his chest. Arthur squeaked in surprise, too startled to do much more than lay limply against Lewis. “We’re not leaving without you, Arthur,” Lewis said with conviction, smokey wisps of magenta tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as he felt how thin Arthur was against his chest, “I won’t leave you again. I promise.”

A moment or two passed of silence between the two, before a hacking sob left Arthur and he buried his face in Lewis’ chest, shifting so he was more fully in Lewis’ lap and clutching near desperately to the ghost’s shirt as he cried.

It was a solid ten minutes before either of them moved again, and Lewis was certain his parents were contending with Paprika shouting for revolution over the turkey, but he figured the clean up later was a good trade-off for mending the bridge he’d nearly let crumble to the ground with Arthur. Carefully he helped Arthur stand and get dressed, watching with morbid fascination as Arthur connected his prosthetic to his shoulder before pulling his shirt on over it, and helped with feeding Galahad, distracting the hamster with a treat while Arthur filled up his food bowl.

“Ready to go?” Lewis asked as Arthur rubbed at his bloodshot eyes, the ghost unlocking and pulling open the bedroom door. Arthur gave a small nod, reaching up to pat Lewis on the arm with his good hand as passed him to walk into the hallway, a hint of a genuine smile on Arthur’s face for the first time that Lewis could recall in recent memory.

“Oh my god, finally!” Vivi’s annoyed shout came echoing down the hall as Arthur walked into the living room and Lewis slowly floated after him. “I’m starving! Let’s go!”

[slut4supersoldiers]

Unloved

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X OC Bi reader (fem)

Summary: The one where Billy Hargrove meets his match: both are fond of speed, sex, hiding their broken hearts with a cocky smile and drinking away their pain. 

Words: 2k+Warnings: Alcohol, Abuse, Strong language, Slight angst.

A/N: I really like the Bad girl meets bad boy narrative so i gave it a try. The reader is Bi so please don’t read if you’re not comfortable with it. (although there’s nothing wrong with being bi). Also this will be a slow update.

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

Hawkins was a small town in Indiana. With a handful of people living together, greeting each other every day (willingly or unwillingly) it was easier to keep a record of the faces filling up the spaces in the town. Therefore, when a new truck of movers drove into town word spread around like fire. A new family moving in next to the Jones’ house was the only buzz around town.

The Jones were the perfect picket fence family. Mr. Arthur Jones was a sales manager and worked out of town. Mrs. Carol Jones, his wife stayed at home and volunteered to help at the community centre and the church which the family religiously went to every Sunday. The Jones had twin daughters.

Deborah Jones was 7 minutes older. She was the good girl; the star of the family; the poster child for preppy. She studied at an all girl’s school out of town. The school only admitted girls who had the will to excel in the future (re: become good wives by obeying their husbands and looking after a hoard of children). The school was as obnoxious as it sounded and so was Deborah or Debbie as she preferred. The favourite child right from the get go, she was pampered and given the maximum attention.

This perfect family, however, had one ‘stain’ as they liked to privately address her. It was their other daughter, Evelyn.

Unlike her sister, Evelyn went to Hawkins High. Since she became old enough to separate good and bad, she realised she was the child her parents never wanted. She was the black sheep; the rogue wolf; the disappointment and her parents made sure to remind her of that every day. Today, being no exception.

Like every Sunday, the family woke up and got ready to go to church at 7 am and like always Evelyn got ready to go to bed after being out the whole night. Lucky for her she was dropped off by her friend Steve who carefully led her to the window of her room. Evelyn for once was thankful to her parents for giving her the room on the ground floor. She opened the half open window completely and got in as stealthily as her hungover self would allow her to. Much to her dismay her mother opened the door to her room at the same time as she shut the window.

“Evelyn Lily Jones” Evelyn could hear the disapproval dripping from her mom’s voice and she cursed herself for not locking the door the night before.

“Mother dear.” Evelyn turned around wincing at the sight of her mother. Even with the dark tinted sunglasses covering her eyes she could see her mother angrily marching to her.

Her mother angrily snatched the glasses causing Evelyn to wince as she tried to adjust to the sudden brightness.

“You’re hopeless. I know you never come to the church and frankly we don’t want to be seen with you, what with the way you act. But at least start being responsible.” Evelyn resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“I am sorry, your royal highness. I will clean up and wait here like a good girl while you go to the church and bask in the holiness. Sounds good?” Evelyn stifled her laugh as she could practically see the smoke coming out of her mom’s ears.

As Evelyn was about to turn around her mother grabbed her by the elbow digging her freshly manicured nails into her daughter’s skin and pulled her closer, “I am excusing your behaviour this time. But if you don’t behave tonight in front of our guests I will let your father deal with you. Sounds good?” Her mother gave her a menacing smile.

Evelyn nodded curtly as her mother pulled away. Smoothing her dress her mother gave Evelyn her usual sickening smile and walked out without a word.

As her mother shut the door Evelyn looked down at the skin around her elbow. The marks left by her mother’s fingers were already darkening, tainting her skin. Just another addition to the collection of unlimited bruises that littered her body.

Without any more thought Evelyn walked into the bathroom adjoining her room. Instead of taking a warm bath as she had initially planned Evelyn turned on the faucet and stood under the shower. The cold water cascading down made goose bumps rise on her naked body.

After a long shower Evelyn felt somewhat refreshed, the slight headache from the hangover was starting to fade away. Drying herself off, she walked towards her mirror and stared at her reflection. Unlike her sister’s naturally blonde hair, she had black hair that reached her shoulder. She still remembered the day she bought the dye and coloured her hair without telling her parents. She almost remembered how her father slapped her twice before grounding her for a week for doing that. After that she continued dyeing her just to piss off her parents.

After wearing comfortable clothes she got in bed and pulled the blanket over her head and decided to rest before that dreadful meeting with her parents’ guest.

At around 12 in the noon Evelyn was woken by the shrill ring of the phone. When she padded into the kitchen to receive the phone she realised her family had not returned yet and she was thankful for it. As soon as she picked up the phone Tina’s voice fell on her ear.

“Evie my parents have gone out and we are having a small get together. Now everyone would kill me if you don’t show up. So I am sending Artie to pick you up. No excuses.” Evelyn shook her head at her friend who was probably already tipsy. She knew she had promised her mother and if she failed to keep up with the promise the consequences would be dire. But Evelyn was not going to give up on free booze either. So without giving it another though she changed into something more presentable, hopped into her friend’s car who arrived only minutes later and was off to Tina’s house in no time.

 The moment Evelyn arrived at Tina’s house she was greeted by a very drunk Carol who hugged her and refused to let go till her boyfriend pulled her off. She finally made her way to the mini bar after greeting a dozen of people. This is the life Evelyn thought. Booze, friends and more booze. She smiled as she downed the concoction which tasted oddly like cola and whisky. She wasn’t fond of the taste but she liked the warm feeling the alcohol left in her throat. To be honest she craved anything that made her feel something. So she drank some more.

Like Evelyn had predicted Tina’s “little get together” soon turned into a proper rager. This was the best way to spend the weekend and Evelyn wanted to make the most of it. But her happiness was short lived.

Before anybody could scurry out the cops barged in through Tina’s doors. The ones close to the back door ran away while some of them ran away before the three cops could catch them. Evelyn was a little tipsy but she could have easily ran through the back door still she halted when she saw Jim Hopper, the police chief pointing a finger at her as if ordering her to stay where she was. If there was one person she respected and listened to it was Jim Hopper. So she stopped. Within seconds Hopper walked over to her and ushered her to follow him out.

The moment Evelyn stepped out the cold air enveloped her. The sun had set and was now replaced by the moon that shone bright. When she sat in the car Evelyn looked at the watch on Hopper’s wrist, 7:15. Evelyn was hoping that she could miraculously skip the dinner but fate (and Jim hopper had other plans). To top it all the constant glances from hopper were beginning to annoy Evelyn so she just chose to look out the window.

“Why are you doing this Evelyn?” After a moment of silence passed between them Hopper finally spoke up.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Evelyn shrugged and put her feet up on the headboard.

“Hey! Feet off.” Hopper bellowed forcing Evelyn to get her feet off and cower closer to the passenger door. Hopper sighed at her reaction, “this is not healthy Evelyn. Nothing good will come out of this.”

“Has anything good ever happened to me anyway?” Evelyn smiled but the smile did not meet her eyes.

“Kid, you can get out of here. You’re a brilliant student. Just put in some more eff-

“And go where Jim? I don’t belong anywhere. I’ll always be a freak, a disappointment or whatever. My own family doesn’t accept me what makes you think anyone else will?” by the end of her rant erratic breathes left her mouth. This silenced the chief and he sped towards her house. As soon as they reached her house Evelyn sat up straighter and almost as if a switch went off Evelyn’s demeanour changed. She held a shit eating grin and looked over at the older man.

“Wow! That was an intense ride. Need to take the edge off. Got a cig?” Evelyn continued to smile at Hopper.

“No! Now I am gonna take you to your house and I don’t want to see you causing any more trouble.” The chief said as he opened the car door.  

“Come on chief as if you didn’t do messed up things back in the days!” Evelyn sassed back.

Rolling his eyes Jim rang the bell. The lights on the porch went on and Evelyn’s dad opened the door.

“Ah! Chief and Evelyn?” Her dad’s expression went from happy to sour.

“Yes! She was helping the guys…uh… at the store to clean up the graffiti from the store wall. I saw her and dropped her off.” Hopper shook her dad’s hand who gave him a tight smile in return and walked in immediately after, completely disregarding her presence.

“Evelyn behave.” Hopper glared at her before walking to his car and driving away.

Evelyn rolled her eyes at his behaviour, “well at least he saved my ass (with a terrible lie)”, she thought. She heaved a huge sigh and made a dash to her room only to be stopped by her mother.

“Evelyn honey come meet our guests.”  Her mom’s sickeningly sweet voice fell on her ears. To others it might seem normal, motherly even. But only Evelyn knew it was the silence before the storm. So she walked into the dining room where four unfamiliar faces were sitting with her own family.

“This is my other daughter Evelyn, Evelyn these are the Hargroves.” Mrs. Jones grabbed her daughter’s hand and pushed her towards one of the empty chairs forcing her to sit down.

“Evelyn I am Susan, this is Neil my husband, that’s Maxine my daughter and Billy her step-brother.” Evelyn turned her head to Billy when she heard him scoff. She had to admit it he was good looking. He looked a little different than his family. Almost like an outsider.

Oblivious to his remark Susan continued, “Your mom talked a lot about you.” She smiled.

Evelyn raised her eyebrows and looked at Susan, “Well Susan let me assure you that I am nothing like my mom described me. I am a good person, contrary to what she must’ve said.” The moment she said this her mom hit the spoon in her hands on her daughter’s knuckles which were placed on her knee, under the table. Both her parents, shot daggers at her. As she managed to look away from their faces she saw Billy giving her a smug smile almost as if he was impressed.

“I am just joking.” she said biting her lip to keep herself from smiling.

Susan laughed nervously and so did Evelyn’s mother. Once again they started talking. Susan was busy sharing recipes with Mrs. Jones, while Neil and Mr. Jones excused themselves to walk to the bar. Debbie on the other hand was too busy making eyes at Billy, completely oblivious of how he was looking down her top instead of her face.

Evelyn’s eyes now fell on the little girl, Max. She was sitting quietly, looking down at her plate. She could see Max pushing the peas away from the rest of the food. But when Susan shook her head disapprovingly she groaned and stopped. Evelyn suddenly grabbed the napkin from her lap and gave it to the young girl. She looked up at the older girl questioningly. In response Evelyn nodded towards the peas and back to the napkin. Slowly Max pushed the peas into the napkin and handed it to Evelyn. Both the girls smirked at each other as Max placed the spoon back on the plate.

“Well if you will excuse me.” Evelyn looked at the six people at the table and got up. Disposing the peas in the trash can without anyone noticing she made her way to her room before anyone could object.

Once in her room she threw her jacket away and began unzipping her boots when a knock came on her door.

Rolling her eyes she got up to unlock the door. Evelyn was surprised when she saw that boy from the table. “Billy”, she reminded herself. She raised her eyebrows and crossed her hands in front of her chest.

“Your mom and Susan thought we should socialize considering the fact that we’ll be going to the same school and sadly I don’t have many friends here.” He pouted as he walked in ignoring Evelyn’s protests.

“Dude what the fuck?” She yelled at him as he began pulling the pictures she had pinned on a display board.

“Who’s that?” He shoved a Polaroid in her face. Evelyn had pinned it at the corner of the board almost as if she didn’t want to see it but still refused to throw it away for the sentimental value it held. She pulled the said Polaroid out of his hand and took a good look at the picture. It was perfect. Or that’s what she had said then. Evelyn finally tore her eyes away from the Polaroid and walked away from billy to put the picture on her vanity.

Turning to Billy she said, “That’s none of your business.” He raised his hands in defence, “Just trying to be friendly.” He smiled at her.

“Why don’t you go and be ‘friendly’ with my sister? I am sure she’d love that.” Evelyn crossed her arms and glared at the boy.

“Your sister? Nah! Not my type.” He smirked at Evelyn who rose her eyebrows at him.

Before she could argue with him any further, her mom called for the two of them as the Hargroves wanted to leave.

As tempting as Evelyn thought it would be to stay in her room, the moment her father yelled for her, her feet carried her out of the room automatically. Neil, Susan and Max were already out of the door and as Billy followed behind her, Mrs. Jones who was holding Susan’s dainty fingers murmured, “Hope there was no funny business you two.” And both the women broke out laughing.

Evelyn could only roll her eyes and mutter, “as if.” Only to realise it was the last straw for her father. He grabbed his daughter’s elbow much like her mother had but harder.

“Don’t you wanna say goodbye to our guests Evelyn?” Her father gripped her elbow harder enough to leave a bruise. She suddenly tensed at his actions and blinking away the tears frantically, she muttered a goodbye. Completely oblivious to what was happening Susan, Neil and Max bid the ‘happy family’ goodbye but Billy lingered back for a while looking from Mr. Jones to Evelyn and finally giving the girl a curt nod he walked away.

[reddieaddict]

You’re Gonna Live Forever In Me (Part 2/4)

Prequel to Richie’s Eulogy

Official Cast

Part 1

A/N: Okay so, in this fic, Richie Is of hispanic and latin descent, speaks spanish fluently, and his full name is Ricardo Alonzo “Richie” Tozier. Why? Because I think the cast needs more cultural diversity and because I wrote this shit so I can do whatever the fuck I want. Haha. I hope you guys enjoy!

Oh and his parents names are Margarita “Maggie” Tozier and Rogelio Alonzo Tozier. OMG this is so extra hahaha.

Sorry if this is shit. I am aware the pacing is weird. I am an amateur writer, so like cut me some mf slack, bruh. 

Summary: It’s senior year and Eddie has began to notice Richie exhibiting strange behavior. He is worried he might be hiding something, but doesn’t know how to confront Richie about it without setting him off and making matters worse.

September 1994 

“EDDIE-BEAR!” Sonia Kaspbrak’s shrill whine pierced through the morning calm. “Can you come down here, please?” It was phrased as a question, but only masochist would take it as anything other than an order.

“Shiiit! What the fuck is she doing up so early?!” Eddie whispered-yelled as he shot up from comfort of his twin-sized bed and the warmth of Richie’s embrace.

“I don’t know, but can you fucking answer her before she decides to barge in here!?” Richie’s words were filled with panic, coordinating with the look he directed at his boyfriend. 

“COMING, MA! BE RIGHT DOWN!” The two teenagers would much rather face Pennywise all over again, than endure the shit storm that would ensue if Eddie’s mother caught Richie in his room. Usually Richie would have snuck out through Eddie’s window before Sonia woke up, but she threw their morning routine completely out of whack. “There is no point in sneaking out now, she’ll definitely see you through the kitchen window. Just stay here, be as quiet as you can, and if you hear her coming up the stairs, hide in the closet! I’ll be right back. . . hopefully.”

Richie nodded in agreement as Eddie made his way out of the bedroom, still far too groggy to be dealing with shit. “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Whatever, just hurry back!”

“Okay, I’ll try!” With that, Eddie closed the door behind him and made his way downstairs. His mind reverted to it’s pessimistic default, racing through the possible reasons why his mother would feel the need to speak to him. It was clear by her tone, this was not going to be a pleasant conversation. With each step he took, he braced himself mentally for what was surely bound to become a full blown argument. Once he finally arrived at the kitchen, where his mother stood leaning against the counter, her narrowed eyes and furrowed brow validated and exacerbated his fears. “Yes, Mommy?”

“Edward, would you care to explain what this is?” A bundle of papers were clenched in Sonia’s chubby claw, as she held it up beside her face. The second Eddie’s deep amber eyes glanced at them, he recognized them as his application for NYU. What perplexed him was how she managed to get ahold of it, being that it was hidden in his desk draw, just last night. Well, he wasn’t really perplexed, as it was pretty apparent that she had rummaged through his room and stumbled across it. He had always suspected she went through his things, but he always tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. Obviously, THAT was a mistake. Her betrayal upset him none the less, which at this point, was stupid since this was typical behavior for his invasive mother. “You already know what it is, Ma! Why would you go through my things?!” 

“Don’t change the subject! I am your mother and this is MY house; if I feel like inspecting your room then I have every right to do so!” she argued, showing absolutely no remorse for her actions. If anything, she was proud. “What business do you have with this? We agreed you would attend a community college, so you could continue living home. A boy needs his mother, especially a boy as frail as you! New York is too far and too dangerous for such a delicate person, Eddie-Bear.” 

“I didn’t agree to anything!” Eddie’s entire face lit up in neon frustration. “You basically commanded I apply at a community college, and you and I both know its just to keep me firmly under your thumb! I am not weak or fragile, like you’d like me to believe. I don’t want to settle for a community college! I want to live my own life! I need to be my own person, separate from you, Ma!” Eddie was certain that at this point Richie could hear their entire argument from Eddie’s room, but in his current emotional state, he couldn’t give less of a shit about the dynamics of his words. 

“DO NOT speak to me in that tone! You and I are NOT equals and I wont stand for this type of insubordination! This type of behavior is clearly a result of you hanging around those delinquents you call friends. They are filling your head with all these crazy ideas! I KNEW this would happen if you kept associating yourself with those disgusting people, especially that filthy Tozier boy! He’s corrupting you!” Eddie flinched at the mentions of his boyfriend’s name. Sonia’s eyes began to well up with crocodile tears, as she geared up for her performance. “How could you even entertain the idea of leaving me, Eddie?! I have given you everything and this is how you repay me? How can you do this to me? I love you, Eddie-Bear, does that mean nothing to you?!” 

Eddie knew every step and every lyric of this song and dance by heart. His mother had always been a conniving, manipulative woman; and in Eddie’s youth, he might have fallen for her tactics, but now he refused to be so easily controlled. He loved his mother and if her tears were genuine he could have reacted differently, but he was fed up and Sonia dragging Richie into this only fueled the fire within him. “Do you really believe I am so incapable of having my own thoughts and dreams? This has nothing to do with Richie or any of my friends! It ME! Its what I want; and it’s not fair for you to speak of them in that manner! I love you, Ma, but you need to let me be. Whether you like it or not, I am going to apply and potentially attend any university I please, I going to keep hanging out with my friends, and I am going to keep seeing Richie, MY BOYFRIEND! I love him, Ma! Nothing you say and no amount of fake tears is going to change that!” 

“There you go using that word, again! ‘Love!’ Eddie, lets not get into this again. You don’t love him. You can’t. You’re just confused, is all.” Sonia was aware of her son’s sexuality and relationship, but refused to accept, or even acknowledge it. “Eddie-Bear! I love you. MY love for you is real, not like the perverted friendship between you and that disgusting faggot. We can get you the help you need, like we talked about; and maybe when you’re better you can meet a nice girl and forget all about him.” 

Tears began to collect in Eddie’s waterline, threatening to run at any moment, but he willed them to stop. He REFUSED to give his mother the satisfaction of seeing him cry! He was just so exhausted. It was the same argument, again and again. The same shit being thrown at him! Why can’t she just love him as he is? Why does she have to be so cruel? He knew those questions were destined to remain unanswered. He needed to get away before his disappointment and heartache decided to rebel and stream down his crimson cheeks. “Mommy, I-I-I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired. I have to get ready for school. I love you and um. . . I-I-I hope you have a nice day at work.” Crestfallen, his voice came almost a whisper.

“Very well, but don’t think this is over! I am only letting this go because I’m running late for work, but you can expect to continue this conversation once I get home.” Eddie didn’t care anymore, he just wanted this to end. He just wanted to get back to Richie. “Yes, Mommy.” 

Eddie turned to head upstairs, but before he could take his first step his mother decided to add insult to injury. “Aren’t you forgetting something, Eddie-Bear?” She leaned forward, expectantly. Reaching up on his tiptoes, Eddie placed the most abrupt kiss possible onto her cheek. Disgusted with his actions, he ran upstairs, allowing his tears to finally flood down his face, knowing he was safe and out of her sight. 

He stormed into his room, slammed and locked the door, and silently waited until he heard the front door open and shut, a sonic indicator of his mother’s departure. Once he was certain she had left for work, he turned to face Richie, relieved it was finally safe for them to speak and move about his home freely. He expected to be immediately draped in Richie’s consoling embrace, but was surprised to find him sitting at the edge of his bed with an unreadable, stoic expression plastered on his face. 

“I’m sorry you had to listen to that. My mom is just so infuriating!” Eddie mumbled in between sniffles, but got no response from his boyfriend. “Richie, are you okay?” Nothing. Worried, Eddie walked over and kneeled himself in front of Richie’s frozen physique. “Baby, whats wrong? Was it what my mom said?” 

Richie’s gaze remained forward, oblivious to Eddie’s presence. His eyes seemed to be unfocused and glazed over, seeing right through his boyfriend. His rosebud lips were pursed into a thin line, while his face showed subtle but evident signs of tension. It was as though his body was there, but Richie was lost somewhere within it. He seemed trapped in some distant thought, disassociated and unaware of the real world, and not too dissimilar to how the losers had found Beverly in the sewers all those summers ago, only without the milky eyes. Not wanting to think about such a horrible memory any further, he shook off the thought and continued to try reaching Richie. “Rich, this isn’t funny! What’s wrong?! Why won’t you answer me!? Are you mad at me?” With each unanswered question, panic began to further burrow itself into Eddie’s thoughts. Why wasn’t Richie saying anything? What the fuck was going on? “Stop doing this, asshole! I am getting scared! Wake the fuck up!” Still no response, just the same blank expression taunting him. In an act of desperation, he latched on to Richie’s shoulders and proceeded to shake him. His eyes became iridescent as the sunbeams that leaked through the blinds illuminated the tears that formed around them. “Richie, I don’t know what do. I can’t-I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you need! Just tell me what to do, baby! Let me in!!” Still, there was nothing. Eddie was bawling uncontrollably, imploring him to come back to him. 

 Taking inspiration from Ben and Bev, he gently, but firmly placed his hands on each side of Richie’s face and willed their lips to collide, hoping a kiss would have the same effect on him as it had on her. Upon impact, Eddie felt him gasp beneath his kiss. He pulled away, only to see Richie’s eyes had widened in shock, his shoulders had risen tensely, and his fist were balled up on his lap, clenching onto the plush fabric of his pajamas. They sat there, exchanging confused looks, each waiting for the other to break the tension. 

“Eddie!” A wide, cheerful smile began to replace the bewildered shock that clothed his face, as he gleefully leaned forward to kiss Eddie once more. “Hey, Eddie Spaghetti! Um. . . We should get ready for school, yeah? If we don’t leave soon, we’re gonna be late and we both know how much you hate being tardy!” He shot up and walked over to the spare drawer Eddie kept for him and began to get dressed, leaving Eddie kneeling in a pool of disorientation. What the hell is going on? 

“NO! I know what you’re doing! Don’t try to play it off like nothing happened! What the fuck was that!?” 

“Uh, I don’t know. I guess I was just tired. It’s not like I got a lot of sleep last night with all the sexy-fun-time we had last night, not that I am complaining, baby boy.” Richie winked smugly, a blatant attempt to deescalate the situation. 

“You-You were catatonic! I kept calling your name, but you wouldn’t answer me! I shook you! It was like you were somewhere else! Like Bev had been. . . “ Eddie lifted himself from the floor and sat himself on the edge of his bed, in the same spot Richie had been moments ago. His cheeks was tear stained and red as a tomato. 

“Eds, seriously it was nothing. Lets not make a thing out of this and just get ready for school, yeah?” Richie was becoming noticeably agitated, wanting to drop the conversation.

“Richie, that was terrifying and you just want to let this go? Has this happened before? Did it have something to do with what my mom sai-” 

“FUCK, EDS! CAN YOU FUCKING LET IT GO!? NOTHING IS WRONG! I AM FUCKING FINE! WHY DO YOU WANNA START SHIT OVER SOMETHING SO FUCKING STUPID?!” Richie’s enraged shouting startled Eddie, leaving him in dumbfounded silence. In that moment, he was especially relieved his mother wasn’t around, as she most certainly would have heard them at this point. He knew there was no point in pressing the topic any further; it would get them nowhere and only make matters worse. When Richie got like this, there was no reasoning with him. 

“Okay. I’m sorry.” Quietly he began to dress himself, avoiding eye contact as much as possible. He would never admit it out lout, but Richie’s actions had hurt him deeply. It wasn’t fair! After being put through something so traumatizing, how could Richie yelled at him like that just for showing concern? Whatever. It had been enough arguing for one morning, and Eddie just wanted silence for a while. 

Guilt began to overwhelm Richie, realizing what he had done was inexcusable. He made his way over to his petite lover and wrapped his gangly arms around his shoulders, pulling him into his chest. “I’m-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Just. . . please believe me when I tell you everything is fine, okay? I promise. You have nothing to worry about. I’m sorry. Are we okay?”

“Mmhmm. Yeah.” Eddie mumbled into Richie’s chest, before pulling away and offered him a weak smile as reassurance, still avoiding eye contact. “Yeah, of course. Everything’s cool.”

“Awesome! Lets get going, Spaghetti-Head!” A big toothy grin spread across Richie’s face as he took Eddie’s hand and pulled him into the bathroom. Side by side, they brushed their teeth and washed their faces, just as they did every morning. All the while, an uneasy, thick silence hovered around them, heavy with everything that had been left unsaid. 

The rest of the morning, Eddie replayed everything in his head over and over, especially on the drive to school. He would steal glances at Richie as he drove and sang along to the radio at the top of his lungs. He was acting just as he did any other morning. Nothing was different. It was unsettling in it’s normalcy. He played it off so effortlessly and convincingly. It made Eddie wonder, what else could Richie potentially be hiding? It could be anything and he would never have a clue. It was a terrible thought to have and it made him feel guilty for even allowing it to cross his mind. He trusted Richie, he really did. This morning had just left Eddie confused. 

Aware of Eddie’s pensive anxiety, Richie reached across the center console and took Eddie’s dainty hand in his calloused one, weaving their fingers together. With a gentle, warm smile, his eyes caressed his boyfriend’s soft, delicate face. “Hey. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Eddie reciprocated Richie’s smile and gave his hand a playful squeeze, signaling everything was truly alright. It wasn’t thought. Eddie knew better than to allow himself to believe so. Whatever it was that Richie was going through, it was clear this was just the beginning.  

@@bitchardtozier

@bloggingandstruggling

@11stayradstaybad11

[shiverpeakstraveler]

Just Like Fire Chp2

Upon arriving at the Black Citadel, Liana finds herself being sent to Hoelbrak instead to aid the norn at the request of Rytlock Brimstone, who is overwhelmed by the amount of refugees coming to him. With the help of Hjalmar and a young guardian claiming to be related to a member of Destiny's Edge, Liana finds herself going head to head against an unusual alliance between the Flame Legion and dredge.

The smell of of engine grease and molten metal wafted past Liana's nose as she stepped through the Asuran Gate and into The Black Citadel, a massive city constructed of iron and built upon the ruins of the human city of Rin. Commanded by Imperator Smodur the Unflinching of the Iron Legion, the Black Citadel served as both the headquarters of the High Legions in Ascalon as well as the testing and manufacturing grounds for the Iron Legion's armaments.

As Liana neared the Blood Tribune Quarters within the Imperator's Core, she could already hear the rising noise of a heated arguement. One of the voices she easily recognized as Logan's friend and Blood Legion Tribune Rytlock Brimstone. The other voice was of a younger male, the tone in his voice fearful and desperate as he attempted to persuade the charr.

"You have to send troops! My friends, my home. We're loosing everything. People are dying!" "Who do you think you are, pup, barging into my office like this?" snarled Rytlock, the stress from all the refugees arriving at the Black Citadel becoming apparent with each word. "My people are hunters. They don't know a thing about fighting an army!" "That may be true, but that doesn't make me your keeper! You're in the wrong place. Go talk to Knut Whitebear. I'm up to my eyeballs with refugees." "I'm Eir's son. I heard...I thought you would help." Liana found herself freezing outside the Tribune's door at that last sentence. She didn't have much time to think it over, for as soon as the sentence was uttered, an ear-splitting roar erupted from the room. "Eir has no son! Now get your mangy hide out of my office this instant!" The door swung open and Liana nearly collided with a rather tall norn storming out of the Tribune's quarters. Firey red hair trailed behind him in a braid and piercing green eyes gleamed with anger as he stomped away, muttering a few choice words that she was certain would have angered Rytlock even further. This day is becoming more and more interesting she thought as she ducked into the Tribune's office. Laria Sharpeye, the aide-de-camp to the Tribune, glanced over at Liana with a worried expression. "I'd approach Tribune Brimstone with caution if I were you, Commander," she hissed, "He's not happy I let that young norn in." The ranger proceeded to nod as she approached the desk where Rytlock sat, the charr appearing to try and distract himself with reports in order to get his mind off of the confrontation. "You better have a very good reason letting another tourist in, Sharpeye." "Nice to see you too, Rytlock. What's got your tail in a twist?" Rytlock immediately tore himself from the reports, appearing somewhat relieved to see Liana. "Commander! This is an unexpected visit. What can I do for you?" "Logan sent me to lend you a hand," she replied, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smirk as Nyla darted around the desk and proceeded to headbutt the charr's paw, "That, and someone was pretty excited to see you again." "Hate to burst Nyla's bubble, but I'm not really in a visiting mood," Rytlock growled as he rubbed the tiger behind the ears, "The High Legions are spread so thin, we've got cooks out scouting the mountains for Flame Legion. Just what kind of help are you offering?" Liana merely shrugged, snapping her fingers to draw Nyla's attention back to her. "Whatever you need, to be honest. I could try and help pull the Flame Legion off your back or take care of some of the ghosts." "That can wait. Right now, I'd like for you to take a message to Knut Whitebear for me. His people are coming to me for help. Their situation is as rough as ours; maybe he could use some help, too." "Sure, I can do that. First things first, though. Why didn't you offer to help that norn out?" The charr bristled slightly. "Two reasons. First, we've got our hands full. I can't spare a single soldier for the norn when my own people are dying and the Flame Legion are burning our assets. And second, he lied to me." "What did he lie to you about?" "He's claiming he's Eir's son. I've known her for years. She would have told me if she had any kids." Liana frowned. The tribune had a point, Eir would have probably told someone if she had any sort of family. At the same time though, the mere thought of her keeping something like that a secret was plausible, although she refrained from telling Rytlock that given the charr was already aggravated. "Alright then.....so you want me to tackle the issue with Hoelbrak first?" "It would be appreciated. Then after you take care of Whitebear's mess, I could use your hand with another matter. Just do what you can to make sure that cub doesn't come crawling back pleading for help again." "As you wish. Come on, Nyla," Liana called, glancing over her shoulder as she began to take her leave, "Catch you later, Sourpuss." "Rah! Remind me to gut Logan for telling you about that nickname!" The ranger couldn't help but laugh as she exited the Tribune's office, shaking her head as she neared the spiraling staircase that led back to the ground floor. "Let's go see if we can find our new friend, girl," Liana said as she and her pet hurried down the steps, hoping the catch the norn before he heads for Hoelbrak. It didn't take her long to spot the norn in question, his flaming red hair almost like a beacon as he was making his way towards the Asuran Gate that would lead to the hub in Lion's Arch and eventually to Hoelbrak. What became cumbersome, however, was the bustling crowd that seperated her from the individual she was trying to reach. "Hey! Excuse me! Can you wait a moment? Please wait-...Oh, Mother of Bear and all of her wacky nephews!" Liana gritted her teeth as she pushed through the crowd to try and reach him, yet it seemed like the norn was getting further and further away. In a final act to get his attention, she stuck her fingers in her mouth and let loose a shrill whistle. If he doesn't respond to this, I'll eat my own bow. "Oi! EIRSSON!" That finally captured his attention as he glanced around wildly before spotting the human waving frantically at him. A look of confusion spread across his face as he stepped off to the side, allowing Liana to catch up to him. "Do I know you?" he asked once she approached, wondering how she happened to know his name. "No, but I think I can help you all the same," she replied, clearing her throat slightly, "I, erm, couldn't help but overhear you arguing with Tribune Brimstone." At the mention of the charr, the norn grimaced slightly before turning to glare up at the Imperator's Core. "Flame Legion and Dredge have recently been attacking my homestead, killing and kidnapping anyone they get their claws on. My people are in danger, and that mighty tribune won't help. I'm not asking him to go himself, just to send some troops." "He's got a lot of things on his plate right now, the Ascalonian Ghosts just to name one of them. He was pretty harsh to you, though." "Eh, it's no skin off my dolyak," the norn replied with a shrug, "I'll just go speak with Knut Whitebear in Hoelbrak. He's a wise man. He'll listen to reason." Liana proceeded to nod. "You might have better luck with him. Why didn't you go to Hoelbrak first, if you don't mind me asking?" He sighed. "Let's just say I have ghosts from my past there that I try to avoid, my mother to be more specific. It never ends well whenever she and I are in the same room. I barely know her anyway." "Well, would you like for me to come with you? I could help you convince Knut to send some muscle?" The offer seems to catch the norn by surprise before a smile appeared on his face. "That would be great, actually! I could use all the help I can get." "Then it's settled," she replied, finding his smile to be contagious, "I've got a few things I need to look into here real quick, but I'll meet up with you as soon as I'm able to." "I'll be seeing you in Hoelbrak then," he exclaimed, extending a hand for her to shake, "I'm Braham, by the way. Braham Eirsson. You've probably heard of my mother...she's Eir Stegalkin of Destiny's Edge. Not exactly bragging, mind you. I take more after my father." Liana grasped ahold of his hand, giving it a firm shake. "Pleasure to meet you, Braham. I'm Liana Rohland."

At least Hjalmar will be happy to see me sooner, even if it means I'll have to return to the Black Citadel once this mess is cleared up, Liana thought as she stepped through the waygate and into the crisp mountain air of the Shiverpeaks. Even as she tried to reconnect to her human roots, Liana would always consider the norn city of Hoelbrak her home. She had practically grew up her entire life here until she set out for Kryta at the age of seventeen, and even though she had grown to love it, she preferred the ice and snow over the walled up city of Divinity's Reach. A smile formed on her lips as she breathed in deeply before hurrying off towards the Great Lodge, returning a few shouts of greeting as she made her way to Knut Whitebear's Loft. Knut Whitebear was an elder of the norn and the Master of the Great Lodge. Some would even consider him the leader of the norn, although the concept of leadership amongst norn was poorly defined. His grandsire, Aesgir Dragonrender, led the norn south to where Hoelbrak now stood from the ravages of the Elder Ice Dragon Jormag, even managing to strike out a tooth from the jaws of the mighty beast, a tooth that now stood within the middle of the Great Lodge. The norn believed that one day a hero would come and break the tooth, signaling the time for them to head north and face Jormag in an attempt to reclaim their lands. So far, none have managed to pierce the frozen fang that stood as a testament to Aesgir's legend. As she began to push open the doors leading to the Loft, Liana found herself once more evesdropping on a conversation. "-The smart ones are evacuating, coming here, where we can protect them." "The smart ones? You mean the wounded and near-death ones! The fierce are fighting. Dying!" That doesn't sound good, she thought, quickly throwing the door open and hurrying inside. Inside, she found Braham was already pleading with Knut Whitebear. Beside him was Eir Stegalkin-who Liana noticed possessed a look of saddness as she stared at Braham-and her direwolf Garm. Hjalmar stood off to the side, a concerned frown on his face that quickly disappeared when he spotted her, immediately waving to her before jogging over to where she stood. "Thought you were going to be helping Tribune Brimstone," he whispered. "Bit of a change of plans," she hissed, keeping an eye on Braham, "He wants me to help with Knut first so he doens't have any more refugees flooding the citadel." "I'm sorry, but I can't spare anyone," Knut gently explained, "Perhaps you could find others who will help you?" "What about you, Eir?" Braham asked, appearing to finally acknowledge her presence. "Braham, you need to stay here, in Hoelbrak," Eir began, "The people of Cragstead will-" "No," he snarled, his hands clenching into fists, "You stay, cowering around your bonfires. As soon as I restock my supplies, I'm going to get my people." "Braham, I didn't mean-!" Eir called out as the young norn turned on his heel and stalked out of the loft, a sigh escaping her as she brought a hand to her temple. "Who was that kid?" Knut inquired, turning to glance over at the famed ranger. "My son." "Hmm...I see the resemblance. He has your stubborness." "I didn't know Eir had a son," Hjalmar murmured, surprised at the revelation, "She mention any of that to you, sis?" Liana did not answer, instead choosing to bolt after Braham, her brother swearing under his breath as he hurried to catch up with her. "Braham! Hey, Braham! Wait!" Liana hollered as she chased after him, nearly colliding with him when he finally stops and turns around to face her, the frustration apparent on his face, "I caught the tail end of that....are you going to be alright?" "I'm fine," Braham muttered through gritted teeth, "I just shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. It looks as though I'll have to go back to Cragstead alone." "Are you sure about that?" Hjalmar questioned, crossing his arms with a frown. Braham turned to look at him, having to crane his neck up as he only came up to the warrior's shoulder. "I don't have much of a choice. Some of my steaders refused to leave. They're going to be massacred if I don't." "Well, if you think you're going alone, you've got another thing coming," Liana exclaimed, "Knocking dredge and Flame Legion heads together happens to be one of my many talents. We can swoop in, save your friends, and send a bunch of skritt heads running before suppertime. It'll be cherry!" Braham's face is filled with surprise before a broad grin spreads across his face-Raven's beak, he's got a beautiful smile!-while Hjalmar proceeded to raise an eyebrow at her statement. "Spirits guide you!" Braham exclaimed, clasping a hand on Liana's shoulder, "I'll meet you at the gates of Cragstead, in Wayfarer Foothills. I have to gather supplies, but I'll be there. Thank you!" "You're welcome. Hjalmar and I will see you there soon." "I'll hold you to that, Liana. Again, thank you!" As Braham proceeded to run off to gather supplies, Hjalmar turned and glanced down at Liana, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "'It'll be cherry'? Really?" Liana sighed. "I know, I know. I've been finding myself saying that a lot lately since...you know." The warrior proceeded to chuckle slightly before glancing off in the direction Braham had taken off. "I'm glad you said something about going to Cragstead. I was worried I would have to drag you there myself." His statement earned him a frown as Liana turned to look at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?" "I was speaking with Eir before your friend showed up. Mom and Dad had left for Cragstead several days ago. No one's heard from them since the refugees started pooling in."

Liana gritted her teeth as she nocked an arrow to her bow, glancing around the pillar from where she had taken cover. After learning from Hjalmar that their parents may be caught up in the carnage at Cragstead, she wasted no time rushing out to the northeastern part of the Wayfarer Foothills. As soon as Braham arrived, she was already barreling through the gate, sending a barrage of arrows flying towards charr and dredge alike.

Braham proved himself to be a formidable fighter, revealing himself to be a Guardian as he delivered blow after blow to the invaders, his weapons of choice being a shield and a mace that one could easily wield two-handed hammer. Both he and Hjalmar would charge into the fray-their foes either falling to Braham's mace or Hjalmar's axes-while Liana would provide covering fire. Nyla darted in between the two men, claws raking and teeth tearing into flesh as the group tore through the invaders, eventually clearing the lower half of the homestead. "This can't be everyone," Hjalmar grunted, using healing magic to tend to a burn on his side. "They're probably up at Wolf's Shrine," Braham replied as he helped Liana retrieve arrows, "Please, Wolf, let us not be too late."

"We'll find them, Raven willing," Liana assured him, ignoring the confused look on his face as they hurried up the steps to the cave, "We're going to do everything we can to get everyone out of here in one piece." "Wolf's teeth-There they are! Hurry!" the guardian cried as soon as he spotted the remaining steaders, charging in quickly as the ringleader appeared through a portal, "Hey, ugly!" The charr glanced over at Braham and let out a harsh laugh. "You're kidding, right? Look at you! I'm surprised you can even lift that mace!"

Braham snarled, his eyes alight with rage. "This mace will be the last thing you ever see!" "Pah! I'm going to enjoy punishing you, whelp!"

The fight itself seemed almost never ending, the charr possessing both Flame magic and dredge sonic weaponry as he fired down upon the four, his attacks relentless and unforgiving. Braham gritted his teeth as he channeled magic to keep a protective barrier up to shield the group from the strikes, fire and sonic resonance rained down upon them. Liana grimaced as she peered around him, her arrows seeming to have little affect on the charr. It wasn't long before an idea struck her and she quickly turned to the guardian. "Braham, do you think you can get close enough to knock that rifle out of his hands?" "Maybe. Yeah, I think I can," he replied with a grunt, glancing over his shoulder at her, "Why, you got a plan?" "I might, but there's no way Nyla will be able to get close enough with him firing that sonic peashooter everywhere unless we can get it away from him." "I'll see what I can do. Get ready!" With a shout, Braham let the barrier down and charged forward, striking the charr with the flat of his shield. The blow managed to daze the charr for a moment, as well as send his rifle skidding across the cavern floor. As soon as she saw the weapon go flying, Liana wasted no time in shouting a command. "Nyla, now! Go for the throat!" "Raah! You'll pay for that, you mangy-!" The charr had no time to finish his sentence before the tiger was upon him, fangs tearing into his throat while claws raked deep into his flesh. With a gurgled cry, the ringleader toppled backwards to the ground, a look of rage forever plastered across his face. The group paused for a moment to catch their breath, weary from the battle before turning their attention towards the imprisoned steaders. "Oh, my young wolf, we should never have stayed behind!" a norn that seemed to be the head of the group lamented, "I'm glad to see friendly faces." "I'm glad you're alright, Ornan," Braham replied, stepping forwards to break his restraints, "C'mon. Let's get out of here." "Braham....they took Ottilia and her family." Braham froze for a moment with a look of shock before quickly giving in to anger. "They what?! Where? Why!?" "They're collecting prisoners. I don't know where they took them or why. We were going to be next when you and your friends showed up."

Liana glanced over at Braham with concern while Hjalmar began to search through the crowd for their parents, hesitating for a moment before approaching him. "Braham?" "I hate this! We have to find Ottilia-and her family-but first, I have to make sure these steaders are okay. I've got this under control." "Braham, are you sure you're okay?" she asked, resting a hand on his arm. "I'll be fine," he muttered, his face clouded with anger and slight distress, "Thanks for your help. That was a bigger mess than I expected. I wish we could have stopped those machines from getting away." "You did your best." "Yeah, well, I guess sometimes your best just isn't good enough." "Hey. You'll rescue them."-a pause- "We'll rescue them. I want to make sure everyone of those bastards pay for what they've done here." Braham couldn't help but grin. "I'll be sure to let you know if I catch wind of anything then." "Thanks. So, now what?" "I want to tell Brimstone and Whitebear that we managed without their help. Rub it in their faces, you know?" he replied, his grin turning into a smirk, "Tell you what. You go tell Brimstone. I hear he's in the middle of a big meeting in the Imperator's Core." "Sure, I'll go let Sourpuss know. You going to inform Whitebear, I take it?" The guardian seemed a bit shocked by her nickname for the Tribune before composing himself. "First things first, I have to get these people to Hoelbrak. Once they're safe and healed and fed, I'll find out how I can rescue those who were taken." "Why didn't everyone evacuate when they had the chance?" "Too proud to admit they couldn't win against that enemy. This is our home." Bugnuts, Liana, you should know this! she thought before coughing nervously. "Sooo....Cragstead is your home too, I take it?" "Yeah. I've lived here since I was an infant with my father, Borje the Sun Chaser. He died when I was young, but I stayed and lived with Yngvi Rugnar. He and his mate have taught me well." Liana nodded for a moment before a sly grin began to tug at the corner of her mouth. "Right then. So, who's this Ottilia I've been hearing about? Close friend of yours?" Braham proceeded to sputter, his face turning a deep shade of red. "Ottilia? Who's Ottilia? Well, she lives in Cragstead, and she's... kind of beautiful. I mean sweet! She's nice, okay?" The ranger broke into laughter, patting him on the arm. "Relax, Braham. I'm not trying to interrogate you. We'll find her, I promise-" "Liana! Over here!"

Liana immediately snapped her head towards the direction Hjalmar was shouting from, her eyes widening. "MOM!" She bolted towards her brother and the norn woman accompanying him, throwing her arms around the latter as soon as she reached her. Nyla chuffed loudly and darted towards a large snow leopard trailing behind the woman, rubbing up against him. "Thank the Spirits!" Liana exclaimed, "When Mar told me you and Dad got caught up in all of this, I thought-!" The woman held on to Liana for a few seconds before pulling back, her face filled with anguish as she stared down at her daughter. "Liana," she began slowly, her voice shaking as though she was struggling not to cry, "They took your father." Liana felt as though someone had driven a knife into her stomach and twisted the blade. "What..?" "He saw them rounding up people and attempted to go after them. By the time I was able to break free from the fighting, he was already gone." The urge to burst into tears began to bubble up inside her, only to be forced away as Liana angrily rubbed at her eyes. "We'll...we'll find him," she choked out, "By the Bear, if anything has happened to him-!" "Um...." She glanced over her shoulder to find Braham standing there, scratching the back of his head and possessing a rather puzzled look. Clearing her throat slightly, she stepped back and turned to fully face him. "Sorry...forgot my manners for a moment. Mother, this is Braham Eirsson. He alerted me about the attack here on Cragstead. Braham, this is my mother, Astrid Windrider."

"Oh! Erm, nice to meet you," he began, glancing between Liana and Astrid with a frown. Liana found herself smirking in amusement at his reaction. "You were expecting humans when I said my parents might have been caught up in the fighting?" A sheepish look appeared on the guardian's face. "Yeah..sorry." "It's alright, Braham," she replied with a small chuckle, "I should have told you that before we threw ourselves into the fray." Astrid sighed, shaking her head for a moment before turning to look at Braham. "I'm glad you were able to find aid. I'm not sure what would have happened had they managed to accomplish their goal." "Couldn't stand aside and do nothing," he replied, "I'm just lucky I ran into Liana." "She does have a habit of showing up when others need help," Astrid chuckled before glancing over at Liana, "I'll need to gather my things and see if I can find any trace of your father. If I'm lucky, he might have managed to get away." "You said he went after the prisoners that were dragged away, Mom," Liana pointed out, "I doubt he would abandon them to whatever fate awaits them." The elder ranger sighed. "I know. I just hope the Spirits are watching out for him. You do plan on aiding the search once you've helped Tribune Brimstone?" "I don't think Raven would forgive me if I didn't. I promise I'll be back once I take care of things in Ascalon." "Until we meet again, may Snow Leopard guide your steps. Thorir! To me!"

The snow leopard let loose a snort before following Astrid out of the shrine, the latter quickly grabbing ahold of a discarded bow on their way to the gates. Liana watched them leave until they disappeared from sight before turning to face Braham. "You'll send word to me if you hear anything, right?" she asked, a desperate tone clinging to her words, "The first chance you get, if possible?" "Yeah, I'll definitely let you know if I hear anything," Braham assured her, "There anything about your father I should know about in case I stumble across anything regarding him?" "Just keep your eyes out for a grouchy looking necromancer that goes by the name of Thrain Ravenseeker. He'll also have a few scars going down the right side of his face that he earned combating an Icebrood." "I'll be sure to do that. Erm, hey..I hope you'll be able to find your father safe and sound." A small smile appeared on her face. "Thank you...I hope you're able to find Ottilia in the same condition as well." Braham returned the smile before clearing his throat. "I better get ready to help escort everyone to Hoelbrak. They'll be wanting to leave soon once everyone is accounted for." "I'll come with you," Hjalmar announced, "You'll need the extra muscle, especially in case the Svanir decide to get gutsy." "Thanks, Hjalmar," the guardian replied gratefully before turning back to Liana, "I'll see you once I find a promising lead, then. May the Spirits of the Wild watch over you, friend." "You too, Braham. Take care of yourself." Braham nodded before turning to check on the remaining steaders, while Hjalmar lingered behind for a moment to speak with Liana. "Hey. Dad's going to be alright, sis," he assured her, patting her on the back, "He may be old, but that wolf still has teeth. I hate to be any charr or dredge that gets in his way." "I hope you're right," she sighed, "Be sure to let me know if you hear anything as well, alright?" "You got it. Good luck in Ascalon, Liana." As the crowd began to pool out of the cave, Liana allowed herself to sink to the ground, hugging her knees to her chest as the tears she had been holding in began to escape. Nyla rumbled slightly as she curled up next to her, licking the human's hand in an attempt to offer comfort as the ranger began to shake with sobs. Raven, hear my plea.....please keep my father safe until I can find him.

[harley-quinnn]

You’re So Sane

Joker x Harley x Reader (As The Jokers daughter)

Masterlist | Requests

Prompt: Do a story about joker s and Harley's daughter going out with batman's son What will His reaction be??? 💗💗💗

{A/N} I hope you don’t mind I made Joker and Harley’s daughter the reader! I just thought it would be fun for everyone to be in that kind of position! Also, I know Damian Wayne has a whole other story out there, but Damian is the name I am using.

Warnings: Cursing. Slight violence.

“I’ll be back later!” You yell as you run down one set of stairs of your double staircase’d foyer. 

You’re wearing your shortest {F/C} skirt and your favorite top to match, which was also very revealing. This meaning, if your father caught a glimpse of you before your bounded out the door, you’d be forced to change immediately. You quicken the pace as you jump over the last step. You’ve become quite skilled in any sort of action in heels, given who your mother is.

As your hand reaches for the doorknob, you’re almost relieved. I’m gonna make it out of here and they won’t even know! When you pull the door open, you’re met with a familiar face, but not the one you expected.

He clears his throat, his eyes automatically noticing your skirt. 

“Now sweetheart, what idea of where you think you’re going wearing that do you have in that head of yours?”

Shit.

“Dad, I-”

“Change. Now.”

Your father’s overprotective, as always. You’re not sure why, considering you’ve known since a very young age just what he did for work, and how he had your mother in the same line. No one would dare mess with you, and they knew it. Most of the time, you just felt like they wanted to mess with your head.

“But look at mom!” You argue, throwing your hands in the air. She was never dressed appropriately, but at the same time, it was like age hadn’t touched either of them. You considered dumping yourself into a vat of chemicals at ACE just to preserve your face.

“What about your mom?” He snarls, and you noticed the anger in his eyes already. Of course, saying anything about his Harley Quinn set him off, and suddenly you recoil. Shoulder slumped, you sigh and turn around.

“Yes sir..” Rolling your eyes after you’ve turned around, you head back up the stairs. It wasn’t long after you passed the fourth step when he spoke again.

“You’re not going anywhere, tonight. Not after that little comment.”

You curtly turn around, mouth open and ready to argue. All he has to do is lift a finger before you scream and stomp up the rest of the stairs.

“Love you, sweetie!” He calls out after you as you storm down the hall back to your room. His tone was obviously sarcastic, and you could hear the sly grin all over his words. It only furthered your own anger as you slammed the door behind you.

“The king and queen of crime and here I am getting grilled for fucking skirt!” You say, plopping back onto your bed as you drag your hands down either side of your face.

Now what..

Glancing outside of your window, you notice it’s a perfectly good night. You sigh, trying not to let your being upset get the better of you. You were supposed to be meeting your boyfriend at the park a few blocks away, but now, you had no idea what to do. It’s not like you could really explain it to your parents. They had no idea you even had friends, let alone a boyfriend, and you honestly liked it that way. You sit up straight on your plush bed, your black comforter seeming a bit more beckoning than usual. Your {E/C} eyes glance around the room as you think of an idea. Sneaking out won’t work, because they’d definitely find out..

Oh!

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ri-

“{Y/N}? Where are you?”

“Damian! Hey, um, so, I got in trouble.. But can you come over?”

“You’re in trouble.. But you want me to come.. No.”

“Ugh, come on, baby. Why do you always gotta be the good guy?”

You sigh, falling face first back onto the bed with your phone in your hand.

“Please,” you mumble through the blankets.

There was a slight hesitation on the phone before he spoke again.

“How would I even get in?” Bingo.

You pop back upright, your smile widening just the same way as your moms. 

“My window. It’s open, you'd just have to climb in.”

“Oh god. You know this is just because I love you,” he says, completely unenthusiastic.

You can’t help but squeal in excitement, bouncing on the bed slightly.

“I love you, too! See you soon!”

You hang up, not giving him any time to change his mind. This plan was going to be perfect. Your parents never barged into your room, and as long as you answered when they called out for you, they wouldn't suspect a thing. You’ve never done this before, but you’re sure it’ll go off without a hitch. 

There’s excitement in the air as you rush around your room, tidying it up and lighting the candles you had. Unlike your parents, you still had your wits about you. It got a little hard to handle from time to time, but you knew they meant well. Well.. At least towards you. You grew up watching your dad come home soaked in blood and your mom right behind him, helping him slide out of his clothing so she could clean it in a hurry. Other times, they just went straight to their room. You assumed to do things... you wouldn't want to know of.

The last candle is lit and you turn on your large flat screen, a gracious gift your father brought home one night. You assumed it was stolen, but who were you to ask questions? He thought about you on a heist and it made your heart swell with joy. 

You change it to Netflix, hoping to binge on {F/S} with him all night once he made his way through your window. You’d never really been to his house before, and he’d never been to yours. Both of your parents were a little on the weird side according to the other, so you vowed never to bring each other home unless you got married. You were breaking this rule now, but as long as he didn’t know who they were, you’d be just fine. 

It wasn’t that you were ashamed at all, you just knew your dear mom and dad were hard to take in, especially to such a normal kid like Damian. You liked him too much to scare him away, or give him a heart attack at the sight of them. You were nothing like them, most of the time, anyway. You didn’t want to taint your own image of normalcy that you’d worked so hard on your whole life.

A few minutes passed and you heard commotion at your window. You scurried over to it, helping him in. Unable to carry his weight, he hit the floor with a thud.

“Sorry,” you said before poking your head out of the window, scanning the backyard for any indication that anyone had seen him. Thankfully, your father let his goons loose early, so no one was monitoring the property.

Brushing himself off as he stood up, you jumped for joy, clapping your hands and closing the window a bit more. 

“I’m so happy to see you!” You throw your arms around him, planting a sweet kiss on his lips and pushing his shaggy hair back.

“I’m happy to see you, {Y/N},” he said. “So why is my girl in trouble?”

You roll your eyes, replaying the whole thing in your head.

“I was so close to freedom!” you say painfully, “And then my dad caught sight of my skirt.”

His eyes immediately become fixed on your skirt, and he gulps softly.

“I can see why.”

You smirk, lightly slapping his shoulder. 

“But since I won’t be going anywhere...” You slide out of your skirt, kicking it aside and moving to your dresser to grab a t-shirt. He watches as you walk around in nothing but your top and {F/C} panties, quickly slapping your ass as you walk by.

You giggle, removing your shirt and slipping on the oversized t-shirt. You were a tease by nature, something that you’re positive you got from your mother.

“That’s better,” you say, turning around and moving towards the bed, grabbing his hands on the way and pulling him with you. You both fall back onto it and you roll over, locking your arm and leg around him in a hug.

“I got Netflix. We can watch {F/S} and do whatever you want.”

He smirks at you, his large hand gently brushing some {H/C} hair from your face. “Your room is huge. So much room for.. activities.”

You laugh at his movie reference and roll back over, looking up at the ceiling.

“Yeah, my parents have had this place forever. This used to be a game room.”

You think about what it must’ve been like before they changed it into your nursery, and eventually into your own space.

“You never told me you were rich,” he jokes, nudging your shoulder.

“You have no ide-”

“{Y/N}!”

The shrill call of your mother seems to stop your heart the moment you hear it, and you can see in his face that he’s nervous too. You hold each others gaze for just a second before you leap off the bed, smoothing out your hair and shirt. You crack open the door of your room just enough so you can be seen, stepping out of it and closing the door behind you.

“Yes?”

“You need ta’.. Are you goin’ ta bed so soon?”

“It’s almost midnight, mother. Of course I am.”

Harley rolls her eyes and scoffs. “An’ ya want me ta’ believe that on what planet?”

“Krypton,” you say. “What do you want, mom?”

“Your father told me ya wanted ta’ go out in that skirt I got ya, an’ I convinced him ta’ let ya’ go, as long as ya don't wear it.”

You stay quiet. If you had only waited a little while longer you’d be able to go out. But you notice Frost walking behind her now, and know there’s no way you’ll be able to leave and get Damian out of here too.

“Give me skirt, or give me death,” you say, dragging your thumb across your neck dramatically.

“That can be arranged, ya know,” she jokes. “Ya can stay home then! Sheesh, I tried.” “I just don’t feel like going anywhere anymore. He killed it.”

“As he does with most things,” she swoons, and you gag. 

“I’ll be in my room.”

“Sleep tight, honey,” she says, knowing full well you’re going to be up all night, anyway.

It’s like you got away with murder in your own right when you walk back in and close the door behind you. Damian is already propped up on your bed with {F/S} previewing on the queue.

"Where were we?" You ask, slinking towards the bed and sliding onto it again.

His arms instinctively wrap around you and he plays the show. For just a moment, you feel normal. The rest of the world melts away, and it's just the two of you. You have no weird enormous house, there is no crazy parents, just you, and... Wait.

"Hey.. Question."

"Ask away, babe," he says, calm and collected, and completely unaware of what you were about to ask.

"Do your parents know about us?"

Damian shifts in his spot on the bed, unsure of whether or not his answer would make you upset. He hesitates before responding, and you're already assuming they don't. It's okay, you think, I mean, I would never tell my parents. But.. my parents are crime lords. His..?

You begin to feel hurt. Maybe your facade of normalcy hasn't been holding up as well as you thought. Did he know? He couldn't have known.. Maybe he's not serious about me? Well, we’re still so young, why should he be.. The questions ran in your mind over and over.

"It's just that.." he starts. "My parents are a little... strange."

You can't help but laugh. "Your parents?"

He looks at you, confusion on his features now.

Okay, maybe he doesn't know.

"I mean, everyone's parents are a little weird," you say, trying to cover up your little mistake.

"I guess so.. I mean, my dads never home and my mom always gone, too. There's not much to meet."

You empathize with him immediately. You knew what it was like to have your parents gone all the time, and to feel like you couldn't let anyone see or know who they were. In everyone else’s eyes, you were essentially an orphan, and have been your whole life.

"I get that," you say. "But you shouldn't feel so bad about it. I know what thats like too, sort of.. I’m sure they’re just fine."

Maybe you should take your own advice, you think.

“You don’t get it, babe. It’s not something I can explain away.”

Your eyes narrow now, and you can’t hide the slight pang of anger surfacing. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t get it?” You say, sitting up straight and suddenly sounding far too defensive for your own good.

He immediately reaches over and pulls your {B/T} frame close to his, a smile on his face. He always thought you were cute you were mad, and his soft touch brings you back to earth. Sighing, you collapse back into his arms.

“I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it.”

He kisses the top of your head and you faintly hear his stomach rumble. Being the wonderful girlfriend you are, you look up at him and ask the inevitable.

“Hungry?”

“I’m starving!” He laughs, “I was going to take you to that little pizza joint once you got to the park, but somebody had to get themselves in trouble..”

You crack a grin, shrugging. “I wanted to give you a little something to look at, maybe be a little grateful!” 

You grab a throw pillow and smack him in the face with it, giggling as he takes it from you and smacks you back.

“Okay, okay!” You laugh, I surrender! How about a treaty written in popcorn?”

He stops, holding the pillow above you as he pretends to ponder over your offer.

“Hmm.. I accept your offer, Lady {Y/N}.”

You grin and grab his hand, pulling him back off of the bed and to the door. Cracking it slightly, you peek out into what’s now darkness and silence.

“The coast is clear, I think. We just have to be very, very quiet,” you say, turning to him for a response. 

Damian nods his head and gestures zipping his lips. 

Opening your door a little further, you tighten your grip around his hand and run for it on your tip toes to insure silence. You stop behind a large plant in the open foyers hallway, peeking towards your parents shut door. You can see the television light from under their double doors and hear your father laughing at what you assumed would be the news of whatever dastardly deed he committed tonight. 

Another dash down the stairs and you’re both scurrying across the floor and towards the kitchen. 

“Your house is huge,” he whispers loudly, almost as though he were relieved about it. You weren’t sure how to take that as you made your way into the kitchen with him in tow.

“Shh! But thanks..” You whisper back, heading swiftly for the popcorn and then to the microwave. 

As quiet as humanly possible, you open the microwave door and place the popcorn on the turntable. After a few seconds, it begins to pop.

“Popcorn isn’t quite helping us stay quiet, {Y/N},” he teases.

The giggle is uncontrollable as you realize he was right. Sure, it wasn’t that loud, but every pop felt like you may as well be knocking on your parents door.

Damian grabs your hands and playfully ballroom dances with you in the light of the microwave, the smell of butter filling the air. You both laugh softly as he twirls you to the imaginary music in your makeshift spotlight.

Flick.

You pull away from each other faster than lightning, your eyes immediately on the one person you wished you didn’t even know right now.

“What the hell is going on?” His eyes move to your legs before rolling towards the ceiling. “And I was worried about a skirt.” 

Damian tenses at the sight of him, his whole demeanor changing into something you’ve only seen on the faces of people who despised your father.

The Joker pulls a revolver from the holster he always seemed to wear, pulling the hammer and cracking his neck. 

“You’ve got ten seconds to run, or I tell that stupid Bat just who, you’re dealing with,” your fathers voice is a low growl, a threatening kind of tone you’ve never heard before.

“Dad..” You say, stepping in front of Damian, “Don't do this, he’s a great guy, I swear!” 

Your dad holds the gun out now, and you’re hoping his aim is just behind you and not on you. Occasionally, you forget that he’s insane. You never would’ve thought he’d hurt you, but now you aren’t so sure.

“Please..” You plead, and sighs, clearly exhausted of you.

“Please, please, please. Get upstairs! You’re not whoring around with the Batman’s kid! I refuse to let my daughter sink to the level of.. Of scum!” he spits, and you wince. 

“Batman..?”

“{Y/N}, he finally says, “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner- I just had no idea you were the Jokers daughter.. You’re so.. Sane.”

Feeling slightly accomplished, you smile a little before remembering what was playing out in front of you. Noticing Damian was still standing there, facing the barrel of The Joker’s gun for you, you can’t push the feelings rushing in all at once.

“Please don’t hurt him,” you say, running up to your dad, “I love him,” you choke out. 

You’ve been saying this to each other for a while now, but to overwhelm your dad all at once with it, this wasn't the idea you had in mind. One hell of a first meeting, but it seems they’d already met before, somehow. 

Your father’s eyes shut, and his free hand’s thumb and index finger grip the bridge of his nose.

“God, damn it.”

You brace yourself for whatever may come next as your mom enters the kitchen.

“J! What are ya doin’ ta’ {Y/N}?!” She says, stepping in front of you now, and then noticing Damian. 

“Oh, Bats’ kid? What tha’ hell were ya thinking’?!”

“Mom,” you whine, on the cusp of a breakdown of your own. 

Damian stays silent, not wanting to make things worse for you and still trying to grasp that he’s been dating his father’s worst enemies daughter. His own head was spinning as he stood firm in his position, now staring at Harley, too.

“I had no idea,” you say, quietly, your eyes closing painfully for a second before you step back over to Damian. “But I don’t care.” You latch an arm around his, and you can feel him tense even further. 

“Put tha’ gun down, J!” Harley yells, and he drops his arm. You can tell even your father was at a loss for moment.

“How long?” She asks, turning to face you now. “Since middle school..” 

You can hear your father curse under his breath, and your mothers eyes widen before her face twists into an expression of hurt and acceptance. 

“Do ya love my daughter, Damian?” She asks, almost sarcastically now. 

“I do,” he says. In this moment, he seems to be the bravest man on planet earth, maybe even the universe.

Your fathers hands clench into fists and bears his metal teeth. Not even having to look at him, Harley holds her arm out and across his chest to contain him.

“Well.. I suppose ya aren’t bad lookin’..” “Harley! He’s.. He’s.. Bat’s blood!” Your father snaps, gripping into her arm now and pushing it aside, almost knocking her off of her feet. 

“You tear them apart an’ you’ll have ta deal with me,” you mom says, always the one who was on your side, and on loves side. She had dealt with the whole world against her relationship with your father, and you knew that played a big role in all of this with your relationship now.

Your eyes widen in concern as The Joker begins to storm closer to the both of you. Leaning down just slightly, he peers into Damian’s eyes, the gun resting against his chest and over his slightly racing heart.

“You even think of hurting my little girl, and you’ll get a nice silver bullet, right where you hurt her..”

[oneandahalfspinsters]

What a Pity, Chapter One

It started in different ways across the world, with various forms of natural disaster and heavenly signs. For most of North America, the wake-up call was the thunderous rumble underfoot and the approach of dark ashen clouds. All over the news and emergency alerts it was being shared: yellowstone had finally erupted. The northern and southern lights were brightly visible to those that could still see the sky, flashing and dancing so brightly it seemed to be day in places. The world was in chaos. Then, after hours of uproar, a voice spoke out, so that every living creature on earth could hear.

You'd think that the almighty God would give his creatures a minute to take in the fact that their world was ending and they were being spoken to by the creator of the universe, but he gave no such grace period. He started immediately explaining what was happening, how it was time for the reaping of the good souls and the abandonment of those unfortunates who were undeserving. As he spoke those words came the biblical fire. As he spoke those words, people went outside as they were commanded. Some, of course, hid inside, afraid of the judgement they might face. But most went outside. Among them was a very uncommon pair.

Atop a hillside, surrounded by their fellow students and teachers, all staring and wondering together, were two teenagers. They stared at the night sky, watching the northern lights dance, fire rain down, and shooting stars flash across. Nobody knew how long they had left. Or what would happen after the judgement. The sky had gone quiet, if not dark. Everybody was walking out into the fields, the residential staff having decided that it would be in the students best interests to follow the wishes of God. The reaction of the students varied widely.

Some didn't believe, and were trying to find other explanations. They walked at the back of the group. Some were horrified to realize they were wrong about their worldview, and were trying to make up for it in the unknown time they were allotted. Some were disappointed that they were going to have to cut their life short, and not achieve their goals in earth. And some were excited. Excited to be moving into the loving arms of God, to be finally going home. Some had other reactions, and many had a combination of a few of these.

Our two teenagers were set apart from the others. While most of their school walked across the soccer field, they stood higher up. Walking across the baseball field, slightly isolated. One of them was panicking, and the other trying to make them realize it would be okay. The one panicking was a girl named Aya, and the one comforting was a boy named Sam.

“What if- what if I'm going to hell Sam? What if I wasn't good enough?” She asked, her hands gripping her own shoulders tightly, breath coming quickly.

“You're not going to go to hell. There's no way. Of all the people here, you deserve heaven the most” he said, reaching out to grip her shoulders.

“You know that's not true. This is serious. This isn't speculation.” her voice was trembling and shrill. She sank down to the ground. “Oh my god, I'm going to go to hell. Shit, I shouldn't have said that!” she said, eyes widening.

“Aya, if people go to hell for taking the Lord's name in vain, and any of the other things you've done, then everybody is going to hell,” he said, and wrapped his arms around her.

“That- that doesn't make it better,” she said, her voice catching and tears falling down her face. “I don't want anyone to go to hell! Not me, not you, not my parents, none of our friends, no teachers, nobody.”

As she listed people, she trailed off into incoherent sobs, shaking slightly.

“How are you not worried?” She said, looking upwards into Sam’s face. He appeared closed off, and she realized that he was.

“I just know that it's too late to do anything about it now,” he said, and as he took a breath to continue, he looked down. “And I don't know if I'm ever going to see you again. I want to make sure you're okay before anything happens.”

Aya saw the tears forming in his eyes and wrapped her arms tight around his neck

.

“I love you,” she said, the sound muffled as she spoke into him. “it's going to be okay.”

“I love you too,” he said, and looked up at her. “We’ll end up together, wherever we end up.”

They stood up, and walked to rejoin the group that had continued on. As they walked, Aya’s mind began to spiral out of control. She knew they had no way of knowing if anything would be okay or not. Her mind went back to thinking about every bad thing she had ever done, every time she’d copied someone’s math homework, every time she didn't participate in a fundraiser. Every time she refused to forgive someone. Every time her heart had jumped into her throat when a pretty girl sat next to her. And as they walked up a small rise in the ground, she realized that while they might end up in the same place. It wouldn't exactly be an effective torture method to leave someone with a person who provides emotional support. So in all likelihood, they would not end up together.

Once they reached the furthermost, darkest field, the group stopped. And waited. Waited for the unknown. Nobody knew what was going to happen until the judgement, or after. Unsurprisingly, the administration did not have a contingency plan for the end times.

Everybody sat together, and feared together. Eventually, people started sharing stories to break the silence, and share last minute wisdom. Aya and Sam sat with their friends, arms tightly around each other, never once letting go. Their friends fell firmly into the category of those in shock, either in denial or a completely shifted worldview. A few people barged ahead talking about how this must be fake somehow, and those that believed were foolish sheep, and were routinely told to shut up.

The barest hints of pale blue were beginning to touch the eastern edge of the sky when it happened. The voice rang out again, saying that it was time.

Aya jumped to her feet, pulling Zach with her. The world around her was forgotten, and her panic was channeled directly to the face in front of her. She began to chant “No no no no no” under her breath, and her hands went back to her shoulders, fingernails digging into her tense muscles.

“Shhh, shh, Aya, calm down,” Sam spoke, and pulled her in close. He ran his arms up and down her back. “You, my love, are not going to hell.”

She held onto him as though her life depended on it, as though he could bring her up with him, against the will of God. Somewhere in her mind, she knew that she had a duty to make sure her boyfriend was okay, comfort him. Try as he might to hide it, she knew he was upset on the inside. But her lungs wouldn't stop going, her heart wouldn't stop pounding, her mind wouldn't stop racing.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I’m sorry,” she said, looking Sam in the eye. “I love you more than anything. And- and- and you'll be okay and God will take care of you,” she said, words streaming out of her mouth, uncontrolled. She felt herself lurch forward, and her foot caught in what felt like a fissure, that she could not see when she looked down.

“Does the ground feel funny to you?” She asked, heart beating faster than she thought possible.

“You're just short circuiting, you're having a panic attack,” Sam said, “I feel off too.”

Aya knew what panicked feet felt like, and this wasn't it. She felt the ground beneath her getting more and more crumbly and unstable.

“I love you,” she said, as emphatically as she could. “ I love you so much and I will never stop. Never ever, never ever.”

She threw her arms around his neck, and held as tight as she could.

“I love you too. And we'll be okay. I'll never leave you, and I will never stop loving you,” he said, as Aya’ heart sank to her stomach. It hurt. It felt as though it was being pulled through her. Then she realized it wasn't her heart, just something that had never been separated from her heart before.

She looked up into Sam’s eyes, the eyes that had pulled her back from so much, that she wanted to wake up next to every morning, that could not pull her back from this.

She reached up, and kissed his lips, hard. Their lips locked together perfectly, a final blessing before they were ripped apart.

“Good luck,” she said. “I love you”

“I love you too,” he said, holding her close, even as she was pulled away.

And then her world went black.