#i couldn't justify giving it a title but it would be 'the dark night of the soul' inspired by loreena mckennit's song by the same name | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

docockbrainrot · 3 years ago

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i think i want you (to leave)

Summary: We’re all running from something. Sometimes, metaphorically. Sometimes, literally. Literally running, from the very strangely hypnotizing supervillain that seems hellbent on ruining every bit of your life he can get all eight of his limbs on.

Pairing: Doc Ock X Reader

Content: Slow Burn, NSFW eventually, 18+, Female Reader

(A/N: hey yall so this is the first fic ive written in literal years and i was going to wait to start posting it until ao3 let me in but i just kind of wanna get it rolling now so i dont just abandon it lmao. ill link it though once i make an account. song suggestion with each chapter, not always super related but a sample from my inevitable otto playlist and title was also borrowed from the oh, weatherly song of the same name. pls enjoy :3)

Chapter 1

city// dbmk

Everyone always told you it was really quite impractical to bring your car with you when you moved to New York. And while you wholeheartedly agreed- you just couldn't bear to part with her, in all her busted bumper and peeling paint glory. The old gal had gotten you from sea to shining damn sea more than once and there's memories in every stitch of her leather seating. And in all the shitty little trinkets you've collected that are shoved haphazardly across the dashboard and dangling ostentatiously from the rearview mirror that occasionally call attention from douchey cops with nothing better to do than pull someone over for 'obstructed vision'. Or maybe it was the Fuck The Police bumper sticker. Who could say.

Tonight though, is one of those nights where you wish you had scrapped her for some cash to justify refilling a Metro card.

Parking is always slippery business in this neighborhood, downtown with the streets lined with cafes and boutiques and an outrageous amount of tourism. So while you aren't surprised per say when the nearest parking spot is a solid ten minute walk from your apartment, you are still disappointed. At least it has the potential to be a nice stroll. It seems like a quiet night, with markedly less honking, road raged shouting, or various other nuisances that make living in the Big Apple so dang quirky.

A couple of sad finagling attempts at parallel parking later and your beater is sandwiched securely (maybe… maybe too securely) between a large Cadillac SUV and some kind of hideous Jeep. Throwing the gear shift into park, you sit there for a moment to just contemplate your life. And glower unhappily at the bag of groceries on the seat besides you that, well, isn't gonna bring itself inside. Sigh. Okay.

The driver's door creaks open and you gather your bag (singular. it's one bag- but you're still not happy about it) and keys and phone and- wallet? Wallet?? Oh- it's in your coat pocket. Wait- keys? Don't lock the keys in the car- okay, no you're holding them. You kick the car door closed with what you hope would look like a cool little move, had you been able to keep your balance and not trip yourself in the process. And the door bounces back open.

Scowling, you give it a good slam with your elbow and miserably lock it with the key fob. Definitely more times than necessary, the telltale chirp of the mechanism sounding off several times in rapid succession. Better safe than sorry.

It's not like it's a particularly dangerous area. Even the brunt of the superhero bullshit stays more uptown than your little nook of Manhattan and muggings are a slim to none occurrence. The people are often kind and friendly when you walk your dog around the surrounding blocks and in the past few years of having to drag your sorry ass ten blocks from your car to your building at unholy hours of the night, you've had yet to have a bad or even remotely off putting experience.

Guess everyone's luck runs out eventually.

The streets are quiet, but fairly well lit. Every once in a while you have to trek past an alley, dark and dank and unwelcoming in all senses. You don't look. There's something about peering into the darkness, the void. Ever since you were a child and long drives home through Midwestern countryside filled your evenings, you couldn't bear to glance into the woods once the sun had set. It was an unsettling sensation you could only describe as the pure fear of someone, or something, looking back at you through the unforgiving, unknown territory.

Reminded uncomfortably of this rather baseless trepidation, you slip your hand into the pocket with your keys and your fingers find the little key-chain stun-gun. Your mother insisted you have some kind of self defense on you at all times, living alone in a big city. You tried to tell her that… well… frankly the dinky little 'weapon' would hardly stand up against any of the truly terrifying creatures that skulk around the boroughs. But she probably wouldn't take that very well. She worries enough about you as it is. After every big (and small) hero versus villain clash she gets wind of from the media she's calling you to make sure you weren't thrown from a bridge or had a car dropped on you. 'Not yet, but here's hoping,' you always respond with the dry sense of humor that drives your poor mom bonkers.

Pathetic weapon in hand (though in truth… maybe it looks more like some kind of pocket vibrator- it's even pink! Come on, Mom!), you steel your nerves and doggedly avoid glancing down the alleyways despite the looming curiosity that always gnaws at your innards. It makes you feel a bit like a child that's going to get caught red handed, anxious and perturbed.

A sound comes up from behind you, at least you think it's from behind. Hasty footsteps, labored breathing. You forget all about the stupid alley and look over your shoulder. There's a man rapidly scrambling down the sidewalk towards you, looking quite like he'd had an awful day. His lab coat is dirty and his glasses are cracked and he even looks like he might be injured. He doesn't look twice at you as he pushes past.

That's when you notice… the other noise. It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you don't think about it- you glance down the dark catwalk. For a moment, you see nothing. Then two glowing red pinpricks of light glare back through the gloom. Your heart seizes in your chest when two… becomes four. And that unnerving sound is getting closer- like mechanical whirring occasionally interrupted by a dull kerchunk like someone's slamming a hammer into the concrete with perfect repetition.

Lab Coat Guy doesn't make it very far. A long, metal appendage rockets out of the alleyway with a distinctive shhhnkk and it's claws hook into the back of his clothes and lift him several feet off the ground. A second figure comes into view from the shadows, shrouded with darkness as he toes the line between sidewalk and alley.

Your heart can't take this stress, really, you promised your mother your anxiety was under control. You haven't moved a muscle, frozen in place barely a few steps from where Lab Coat Guy was pleading incoherently, probably for his life, while dangling pathetically in the air. Maybe if you don't so much as breathe you'll go invisible. You feel like a rabbit cornered by a pack of feral dogs and the flight or fight instinct has securely settled on… fright.

"Honestly, David. You thought you could get away?" The voice is almost lilting with melody, gentle on the ears and pleasant. A bizarre contrast as you take in the imposing form of the man who takes the final step into the light. Supervillain, for sure. Trench coat and round sunglasses. Really? The giant robotic tentacles coming from his person aside, that is, it's a dead giveaway. You know who he is immediately, anyhow. You don't live under a rock, he's been the headline of every paper for weeks. Doc Ock, is what they've taken to calling him. Previously some kind of esteemed scientist, Otto Octavius. You really don’t keep up with this wild stuff, really. It’s just rather impossible to be totally ignorant, with the media foaming at the mouth to keep everyone informed of the ridiculous goings on of the city.

He doesn't spare you even a second glance, slowly lowering the blubbering Lab Coat Guy (David?) from his place in the air and launching him abruptly against the door of a car parked alongside the street with such force the vehicle shudders, keeping him pinned there with a claw pressing flat to his chest. Maybe it was a good thing you had to leave your car so far away… You’re pretty sure your insurance doesn’t cover comic book villain damages.

"Please, please, listen, you don't understand, I can't-" David is probably finding it hard to continue begging with the metal crushing into his chest with such force the car door is beginning to creak and crumple under the pressure. Ouch. Looks painful. You're uncomfortably aware of that fact that you could be next if you don't make a fucking run for it. But you're still shell shocked, feet locked into place and eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

"No, you listen to me, David," the good Doctor lowers his voice as he leans down so he's eye level with the terrified man, "this is your final warning. I expect results. By the end of the week. Or else."

The mechanical arm hums in a low robotic thrum as it retreats from Mr. Lab Coat's battered body. The man takes a moment to stagger to his feet, no doubt suffering from at least a few broken ribs, and he doesn't dare to look back as he hurries away as quickly as his injuries allow. He's gone around the corner of the block as quickly as he had appeared and you're uneasily aware of your current, somehow worse situation.

It's just the two of you. Alone.

#doc ock #otto octavius #doctor octopus #doc ock x reader #otto octavius x reader #fanfiction #im honestly so nervous abt posting my writing online for the first time in ages #haha #ahhh

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angelguk · 3 years ago

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oc is back on her bullshit!!! miss out and about im gonna forget about you!! im so sorry for this part actually. descriptions of oc sleeping with someone who is not jaykay (warning!! infidelity but not really). suppressed feelings on jks side. chayoung is still Suspicious. everyone is now mildly shitty actually. roughly 2k. listen to not gonna cry by emma steikbakken and stranger by tove lo.

titled — fuel to the fire

It's been three days since you last spoke to Jeongguk (and four weeks since your break-up). Not about your relationship or the horrendous state your sudden break-up left you in, or about the fact that Jeongguk had moved on before your heart had even registered the cracks he'd left in his wake. No, not that – none of the actual life changing important stuff, only him briefly mentioning that you needed to hand in your event proposal for the student committee before the deadline approached. It was unbelievably strange to watch the person you'd basically surgically attached to your being behave like a complete stranger. It didn't help that he didn't seemed unfazed approaching you, while you on the other hand actively avoided him and all the usual corners of campus where he liked to lurk (which sucked because those corners were some of your favourites places too). But there he was, ambling to you with an ease that made your gut violently twist, acrid bile slithering up your throat.

He'd spoken so freely, the sound of your name on his tongue a brand on your skin. You'd frozen, heart a wild animal locked in your chest, before you could summon the mettle to look him in the face.

The first thing you noted was that his hair was no longer long. Dark locks cropped short around his ears now and casually gelled back, idle strands playfully framing his face. His features are what you settled on next, eager eyes remapping the sharp slope of his nose, easily identifying the sneaky dimple on his cheek begging to burst free and then shifting down to the dark mark right below his soft pink lips.

Your first instinct was to pull him into your arms but they were frozen, glued to the table beneath you before that blinding rage rose it's head, sparking through your veins the longer you looked at him.

He didn't even seem to realise it, rattling off the list of things you needed to email him for the spring scavenger hunt or else the event could be cancelled (which sucked because that was an idea you had created with Jeongguk and now you were stuck carrying the bulk of the event alone).

Your replies had been curt, blunt as they left your lips before you'd pointedly turned away. Maybe if you had looked a little longer you would detected the lingering gaze he granted your features, how he shuffled on his feet, unsure and hesitant, words on his tongue longing to be released. Eventually he had swallowed him down, mumbled a quick goodbye and wandered off, the hands shoved in the pockets of his baggy jeans aching to hold yours again.

You, however, didn't miss the muffled giggles of girls he passed on his way out, a sick icky feeling clogging your throat. You didn't mind the fan girls when you were dating because you knew Jeongguk was yours and yours alone. But now? When he'd moved on not even a weak after your break-up you didn't know how to feel. Jealous, maybe. Furious, absolutely. For a second, you considered throwing your mini stapler at their huddled heads, weighing the odds of possibly going to jail for assault. But there was no reason to truly justify that reaction, not when Jeongguk was single and apparently available for everyone. But did that feeling still brew inside of you? Turning into something black and vile and vengeful? Perhaps.

And maybe that's why you're here now, the body of some boy pressing against yours, your bare back prickling as the night wind grazes against it. The dress you'd plucked from your closet was criminal, clinging to the dips and rounds of your body perfectly, a silky emerald backless piece that shimmered beneath the soft lights of the porch you'd abruptly accoupled. His name might be Lucas – you may have been able to accurately remember that three drinks ago but you're beyond that now. And it didn’t really matter when all you wanted was for him to fuck you. He's also big and huge, massive shoulders caving you in, and his hands is snaking it's way up your thighs, ginger kisses peppered along the span of your neck.

Which is not what you wanted. Not in a one-night stand at least. You don't want soft and gentle, you want something wild – feral even. Something harsh enough to wipe the memory of Jeongguk's hands on your skin, something bright and fierce and new. Something to make you feel alive again.

Lucas gets the hint soon enough, spurred on by the bold movement of your hand guiding his closer, right between your thighs were you wanted him. Deft harsh fingers on your clit followed, pressing against the damp fabric with no remorse. You couldn't help the whimper that floats from your lips, the tension stringing through your limbs finally alleviated.

"Cute," he murmurs, seemly pleased judging from the broad smile that tugs at his lips. You make a noise of agreement in return, drawing in him for a kiss as the pad of this thumb toys with you. There's the sillage of whiskey on his tongue, something that nearly makes you freeze because you're used to tasting that on Jeongguk. But you beat down that apprehension, a muffled moan breaking past your lips when Luca's tongue mets yours.

"My place?" He suggests, lips glimmering from your lip gloss. You smile, a familiar giddiness bubbling in your chest when he shifts a little, hard bulge bumping into the base of your stomach. You give in a little bit more easily than you normally would have, clinging onto his hand as he guides you out of the party towards the neighboring building. Chayoung and Sieun are going to kill you later for this but you simply can't force yourself to care.

"You're in that frat?" You finally murmur out when he keys himself into the building. Lucas hums, glowing under the moonlight when he smiles at you.

"Mhm, Sigma Chi for life, babe."

Babe. A complete one-eighty from the bunny you'd grown accustomed to.

It hits a little harder when he gets you into his room, the mess unlike anything you'd ever seen at Jeongguk's (he's very anal but his room and how clean it should be, specific down even to the various scents he kept around to ensure the air he breathed was perfect). Lucas was the average frat boy, messy but neat enough that you find yourself naked on his bed a couple moments later, his tongue deep inside of you. Your brain couldn't help but recall the last time a head had settled between your thighs, Jeongguk eager to lick out the pool of cum he'd left there. But this wasn't him and as of five seconds ago you decided you’re no longer allowed to think about him.

Lucas makes it easy, tongue skilled and swift around your clit, a fervour in his movements that leaves you dripping down his chin. Jeongguk evaporates from your mind entirely when Lucas descends on you, his mouth glistening and his tongue tasting of you. His kisses are hungry now, forceful, just what you need. Your palms stray down his wide back, a strange tingle erupting in your gut when your nails dig and he groans right down your throat.

"You're so big," the comment is a mumbled slur, lost in Lucas's mouth. For a second, you think he misunderstands, his hard cock twitching against your thigh. You're actually talking about his shoulders; they're broad, muscles rippling every time he shifts to press you harder into the mattress. You like the weight of him on you, it makes forgetting easier.

But Lucas knows what you're saying, discerning your wandering fingers and clouded eyes well.

"I know," he returns with lopsided smile. "Perks of swimming."

Oh, of course he was an athlete. Maybe you had a type after all.

Before Jeongguk has a moment to resurface Lucas has you in his arms, easily twisting you around so that your face is buried in his sheets. It short-circuits you, brain sparking with how large and huge and strong he feels. The following sudden press of his lips against your ass doesn’t help, your heart thumping loud in your head as your shuffle onto your elbows.

"Good?" Lucas asks, rising to fetch a condom from his drawer.

"Mhm," you return, thighs trembling when he returns. He easily lines himself up with you, the head of his cock pressed into you coaxing a low groan from your throat. The first thrust hurts, probably because you're body isn't as on board with this as you thought. But that changes quick when Lucas's hand slides underneath you, swiftly settling on your clit until you're leaking around his length, skin tight with tension and sweat beading along the length of your back. The stretch feels strange – he's larger than Jeongguk, wider. At first it's too uncomfortable to feel good. Your senses narrow on the sound of your meeting instead, loud and lewd, your pussy squelching with every drag of his cock inside of you. The ripple of your ass helps you relax too, a pleasant almost dizzy feel spreading through your body when Lucas draws you closer, shoving himself deep inside, the whine floating from his lips painting your skin warm. He fucks you hard enough to leave marks, large fingers digger into your hips with every resounding collide of your bodies. You shiver when he finishes, a grimness appearing on your skin. It's vanished by Lucas tugging you close, his mouth light on your lip as he kisses you, cock slowly slipping out.

It feels better the second round. He's perceptive, quickly learning how you like your clit touched, or that you like when his teeth sink into your skin rather hard. You actually cum this time, spread open over his massive strong thighs, his length splitting you open, the stretched welcomed.

You forgot about Jeongguk and your sore heart for a total of two wonderous hours, before your phone starts blaring from your discarded mini-bag on the floor. Lucas is the one that gets it for you.

"Hi?"

"Y/N! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?" Chayoung's tone is aggrieved, wavering through the sound of some song blasting in the background.

"Oh. I left." You hope she gets it, doesn't press any further. But what was Chayoung if not a button pusher?

"WHERE? YOU WENT HOME? WHEN?"

"No, I'm not home. And awhile ago." Lucas is pointedly not listening, pattering through the adjacent bathroom of his room. The pressure ebbs when he turns the tap on loud.

"WHAT?"

"I said I'm not home! And please stop yelling!"

There's a loaded pause. You can feel Chayoung thinking through the line. "Okay... Who are you with?"

"Fine, yes I'll meet you there," you say instead, completely ignoring her question. Lucas is out of the bathroom now, massive and still naked as his knee sinks into the mattress. He crawls to you as you scramble to get out, phone wedged between your shoulder and ear. "Yeah, yeah I know I'm sorry. I'll come get you."

"What the hell are you talking about Y/N? Who are you with?" Chayoung's words are bitter now, stinging as they hit your ear.

"Gimme five seconds, I'll be right there," you return, swiftly cutting the call. Chayoung is going to kill you the second you see her but you'd rather attempt to live through that than Lucas overhearing you gossip about him on the phone with your friend. The man in question is watching you with a chary gaze as you hurriedly tug your dress over your head. "Sorry," you supply, pulling the hem down hard over your butt. "My friend needs me."

He nods slow, strawberry blond locks swaying. He's actually very hot, an observation that has you stilling for a second.

"Cool. See you around, yeah?" His eyes are round and big, bright even – almost like Jeongguk's. That breaks the spell.

"Yeah, see you around." And then you take the chance to flee, bag swung over your shoulder. Except Lucas halts you with a low cough, raising his hand, something bunched up in it.

"You forget this, though." It's your underwear, red and lacy. Your cheeks match the colour of fabric, flushed hot as you pluck it out of his wide palm. Lucas watches you slip them on with a smug smile, one that you should hate but there's a humour in it that blooms through you. He lets you part with a fond squeeze of ass when he gets up to open the door, still grinning.

"See you, Y/N," he says, leaning against the doorframe. He's very tall too, how did you miss that?

"Yeah," you squeak back, eyes shifting from his face with speed. "See you."

He's not Jeongguk, and that's good. He also makes it easy for you to forget about Jeongguk, another plus. And you can't help but wonder as you scurry back to the party, that it might be nice to see him again.

—

That sentiment gets jumbled when Chayoung avidly spills to you later that she'd stumbled into Jeongguk with his hands tangled with another girls, leading her right out of the party as Lucas had lead you. It stings, of course it does, but not as much as the first one. Not when Lucas is in your DMs, his messages sweet albeit corny, and you can still recall the taste of you on his tongue.

But despite everything, even with Jeongguk a new stranger and Lucas's body warming yours, you haven’t truly let go. You can feel it in how you cling to the clothes Jeongguk had left in your closet. He hadn't requested to come pick them up yet, a fact that keeps a wedge in the door you're not sure you can close alone. Your heart still spikes when you see him on campus, and there's a home game coming around the corner that you're longing to go to. Because you still want to see him. Still want to be by his side Sometimes it felt nice to want to forget but you couldn't – not yet at least, not until you know whether he wants to forget about you too.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #bts x reader #bts angst #jungkook scenario

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justalost4girl · 3 years ago

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" If anything can go wrong, it will."

Good night!! (Here it's still night :p )

A few weeks ago I said I would do a oneshot Lorraine Broughton x F! Reader, but it got too big so I decided to follow the initial idea and turn it into a mini series. I have two chapters written and I'm going to post them here and in Ao3, I think there will be 3 or 4 chapters in total, but I'm not sure yet.

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!!

warnings: mention of violence, R cursing, forgery of documents (?)

Words: 4573

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1989

Berlin, East Side

You feel in your bones, when you wake up, the consequences of last night and think that the famous Murphy's Law decided to test you. On this side of the wall few things go right, but having an order in your head two days after joining STASI's wanted list proves that nothing is so bad it can't get any worse. Courtesy of a dumb customer who messed with the wrong people and thought revealing where you find your customers would be enough information to escape death. The Local Gang (or Angels, as they call themselves) loves to eliminate competition from the market.

Now he's dead and you have to deal with the STASI AND the Local Gang (you refuse to call them Angels).

The local fucking gang that sent a team of idiots to break into your favorite bar and made you run out the back door before meeting a customer who was going to pay well. The local fucking gang who must be pissed that you shot the six dumbest members you've ever had to face in your life. No really fatal shots, but of course that won't matter as they do business with the KGB.

Sometimes you want to ignore the rules you've made for yourself, especially "never kill someone unless it's in defense of yourself or someone you love", but you think killing six agents who don't have the ability to set up an ambush of success would be a great waste of bullets. Now you know you're going to have to leave town soon and you have no idea how to break the news to your brother/partner, how do you honorably abandon a war before it's over?

Damn Murphy's Law

You know you need to sort this out, but you refuse to stay in bed crying over what's already written and decide to leave the wonderful Egyptian linen sheets you got from your favorite client last month to face the world and it's impossible to face the world without a good amount of coffee. After a quick shower with a cup of Blue Mountain in hand, your newest addiction, you sit in a robe in a nice armchair, look out the window at dying Berlin and thank heaven for the comfortable life you've earned by working with one of the greatest smugglers on this side of the wall, perhaps from all over Germany. Some desperate customers offer you valuable items from them in exchange for passports and unlike your idiot “brother”, you don't have a rule about only receiving cash. Almost everything here comes from gifts, from the sofa, pictures, bags, clothes and even some books on your shelf. You don't even remember buying that cup, or the coffee set, for gods' sake.

If he saw you now he'd complain about being soft with customers and say something about how items aren't a bargaining chip in the real world, you'd get into a tiresome discussion about enjoying the finer things in life and how bills don't compare in the importance of yours. silver chain with moon pendant that was once an amulet for more than three generations for a French family.

At the end of the day, Merkel has a large information network and an office that takes up half the block, where she keeps as much money as she has secrets, and you have a house decorated by other people where each object symbolizes someone you've helped.

Four walls don't make a house

The thought takes away some of the almost peace you feel and you decide to finish your coffee before it gets cold.

After a quick glance at the calendar you remember about the march that will take place in Alexanderplatz square and decide to go scream for Germany one last time, hopefully you'll be able to hide long enough to see the fall of the damn wall that divides this country. It's not your country, not really, you don't even like to remember how you got here, but the experiences you gained wouldn't be exchanged for anything, not even for an original Van Gogh. Also, Merkel asked you to go and bring a black umbrella, the reason was not explained and you didn't feel like asking, sometimes you think Gordon Merkel is not his name, but how to judge the man who is your only family in this end of the world? You smile when you remember that he shouldn't have an umbrella with a story as cool as his and decide to piss him off for it.

Your phone rings, and you notice you've lost track of time. Merkel was helping a blonde woman named L, he didn't give you more details other than a few stories about how she was a perfect and dangerous assassin that you should keep your distance, as few people know how to deal with her. You thought he overreacted, but you had to take over some business from him while she was in town. She seemed important considering the way he told you about her and you knew better than to deny help to the person who always supported you and declared himself a brother, you trusted him because not even the best agent in the world could fake so much sincerity and affection in claiming this title for himself.

You reach out, pick up the phone, and decide to answer it. “Hey little sister, how are you out there? I called to say that everything is fine for dinner today, but there was a mishap and the wine ran out, bring the best Bordeaux you have, I'll return the courtesy as soon as possible." A code, of course.

He needs your services ASAP. Wine is a passport, Bordeaux means two elements, courtesy involves a child.

You can combine business with pleasure "Hi brother. I'm looking forward to today, I'll take the best wine I have, don't worry. I already know how you can thank me. I need to clean the house and go to the office first, but I'll be there on time. wait for me." you say in a voice that oozes normalcy, you never know when someone's listening on the phone especially now that you're a fugitive, disgraced customer. Your body sinks into the armchair noticing the oncoming cloud of worry

Merkel now knows you need his help, as cleaning the house means getting away and going to the office shows you're in a hurry.

"Alright, do you want me to send the driver?" He asks like he's not freaking out and offering the bloody job of one of his mercenaries

“No, bro, thanks, I know the way.” You say as if you really have an escape plan besides getting a fake passport, emergency backpack and all the money you can find.

“See you later, don't forget the wine. Are you sure you don't want the driver?" You wonder if he has forgotten that knowing the way literally means everything is fine

“Relax, see you later” It takes a few seconds for him to hang up and you can hear his sigh.

He will be SO pissed.

You put the phone down as you get up to gather the passport forgery materials and put them in a briefcase. Your cookbook is already there along with some banknotes from different countries. As you pick up the black backpack of standard clothes and accessories that always waited for you in the corner of the door, you decide to wear the first jacket you bought, the dark blue jeans, the combat boots you got from a skinhead, the wristwatch you bought. you got for your brother's birthday, thick leather gloves and a thin white shirt that matches the rest of your outfit. After all, if you can die when you open the door, then die well dressed. Be sure to keep the Colt 1911 around your waist and the Russian dagger around your ankle, after yesterday you never know, Your pocket watch with the coat of arms of the Brazilian imperial family indicates that 15 minutes have passed since Merkel's phone call

You take one last look at the house you've been so proud of in recent years, snap a photo with the Polaroid you've won, and, with a bittersweet smile, close the door. One day when the wall comes down, the government changes and your face is forgotten, you can come back here, until then you will have to make do with the photo album you keep in your backpack and this photo.

Putting on your sunglasses, you arrive on the street and decide to take a taxi on the other corner, make sure you look around before leaving your home, no one knows your address, but you can't be sure the local gang is so stupid to the point of not following you after last night.

Getting a taxi was relatively easy. Neil, the driver, thanks to the boots, mistook you for a revolutionary and talked for 10 minutes about how he hoped he could take down the wall with his bare hands, you thought it was cool, but as you passed the big river that was just a few blocks away from the your brother's office, you couldn't hear a word from him.

A sign signaling that the river was closed to visitors made your eyes fill with tears. You used to go there when the day was bad, spread a blanket in a corner and watch the stars, or just laugh at the distinct reflection the water made of the moon and stars. Merkel accompanied you on anniversaries, justifying them as bonding experiences. After some freaks started swimming in the river and executions increased, STASI took over and you replaced the dark water for the restaurant's bright lights. But seeing it tightly closed gave him a feeling of anguish and rancor. You would silently curse the wall builders for the rest of the trip.

Neil seemed to notice but didn't comment on it, you thanked him, wiped your tears and left a good tip as you descended a block away from your final destination. This time you didn't need to look around because even though Merkel was super busy, he made sure to leave some security close to where your landing place was.

A tall man dressed in a red T-shirt approached you and hugged you as if he hadn't seen you in a long time. You've known him since the beginning of last year, when he arrived at Merkel's office begging for a job, and from the first moment the way he turned grief over his brother's death into a thirst for revolution made you admire the young man. The two of you walked through the great gate hand in hand as you asked about his life with genuine interest, and Klaus increasingly believed in Merkel's theory about you having such a pure heart that you didn't care about motivation or the number of lives they took, your explanation of the judgment not being your responsibility, crossed the man's head before he escorted you to the main office.

You thanked him with a smile, opened the door and stood in front of the table in the windowless room, where your brother was already waiting for you.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? I was about to send J to get you, please tell me what happened"—he said hurriedly as he got up and pointed at the couch for you to sit on. J was one of the most dangerous women in the building and you were grateful for not wasting her time.

Putting your backpack and umbrella aside, you answered:

"I'll explain later, little brother, now let me help you. You need passports urgently, don't you?" Yes, you were stalling and postponing the conversation. He'd call you an idiot for going out on the street right after you got on the wanted list, and he'd feel guilty when he found out why you didn't tell him. Merkel wasn't going to understand that her fear of failing him was no one's fault but yourself.

Your sentence seemed to give him some responsibility back, but still, as he held out a glass of water for you, his eyes met yours with a glint that warned that this conversation was far from over.

"Yeah, I really do, but don't think I'm going to forget about it. Let's talk when this is all over. Even if it's the last thing I do today."

You accepted the glass with a bit of trepidation and stood up towards the large center table while opening the briefcase with the supplies you were going to need, if Merkel noticed the bills he didn't say anything. Once at the table, you made two passports for mother and daughter in record time. According to the clock, 10 minutes passed, faster than a car, this deserves a celebration. It would have been six if Merkel hadn't been so curious to make you waste time pulling your watch out of your pocket just for him to analyze.

Everything was going well and there was only one last detail for mother and daughter to be taken by one Percival to the other side of the wall. Percival, according to Merkel, was strange and fickle. Unreliable and extremely dangerous, you should also keep your distance from him, as this man had crucial contacts on both sides of the wall.

"He must have fewer contacts than you", you would answer

If a loud noise didn't break the silence

The annoying noise of the door creaking made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you almost missed the last signature, it made your body vibrate with irritation and your eyes follow to the offensive source of the sound. A tall man with short hair and blue eyes was holding the doorknob with a military posture and before you could release your anger and explain something about how people shouldn't be violent inside Merkel's office you noticed he was accompanied by a woman.

AND WHAT A WOMAN!

Your eyes connected to a pair of fierce, intent green eyes, surrounded by a pale skin tone and hair so blond it looked like snow. The barely perceptible frown showed she was surprised to find someone other than Merkel there, yet she looked ready for a battle. You looked into her eyes again and nodded in acknowledgment, this must be L, the woman he was talking about.

She looked at you suspiciously, but also as if she could see into your soul, and what must have been frightening, you found endearing. A few stories of murders orchestrated by her crossed your mind, but all you could imagine is how beautiful she must be when she's mad.

They say green eyes darken when we're high on adrenaline, does that happen to her?

Her analysis of the intriguing blonde ends when she notices that the man accompanying her has raised his voice and from his furious expression, it's not the first time he's repeated the question. You interrupt him before you hear him and make sure to direct the ghost of anger before him:

"Have you lost your mind? Who walks into the office without knocking? Surely you should be here asking about passports, but if it weren't for my experience and steady hands, they would be in the trash by now. Learn to be civilized. You're under two paws not four, so act human and not animal" you say in an explosive but articulate tone to make sure he understands what you say. Sometimes when you speak fast, you are betrayed by faulty diction. Not today. Today you want this man to feel every fiber of irritation that went through his body.

Hearing Merkel holding a nervous laugh, you try to relax, but judging by the cold, almost murderous look of the man in the doorway, you've definitely gotten yourself in trouble. Looking at the organized clothes, you notice it's an old police uniform, probably taken by your brother, and unless Merkel has hired new employees, you've never seen it around here. His eyes snap back to his and something inside you warns that this must be Percival. He probably wants to kill you.

Damn Murphy's Law

A brief silence settles in the room and you shake off the fear and turn away, refusing to play the glaring game with a man who almost spoils your art. On other days you might look at him at a party, but today you want to make him swallow the ink on the stamp in his hands and invite the blonde to dinner

And it's her voice that breaks the silence.

You're flipping through the two passports for failures when she says

"Sorry, miss. My friend is an unprecedented idiot. Shall I close the door and knock again? Perhaps your highness too--"

You turn her body towards her when you hear the slightest hint of irony in her tone and interrupt her with a fake smile as you look into her eyes.

"It's not necessary, I accept your apology, Miss. I always said that Merkel should have someone armed at the door to remind everyone of the need to knock on the door. Anyone who didn't knock would lose his mind as the law of my reign says. Perhaps I should start. for him, since the top head is the last thing he wears lately" you joke look at Merkel who doesn't seem offended by the statement, shrugging you look at those blue eyes again and say "the passports are ready. Let's get out of here."

You close the passports, reach for your backpack and umbrella and start moving towards the door, both agents let you lead the way and judging by the blonde's expression, she's not used to being interrupted, nor is she used to seeing someone talking like that with Merkel, but today it was acceptable. You really think she's adorable, but you know better than to let someone make fun of you, especially in front of your brother who wouldn't let you forget about it. Either she doesn't care, or she's a great actress. Anyway, that idiot is still by her side and you refuse to be the reason for his possible laugh.

Her friend probably didn't have the same acting classes and his resemblance to the local gang members, like he's going to kill you in the blink of an eye in a cowardly way, is almost frightening. If Merkel hadn't said L is a woman, you'd be scared. It makes you shiver a little and look for Merkel, but he's not following you. Looking over his shoulder you see him putting a few more piles of dollars and euros into your briefcase. With a snap of your fingers you get his attention and before you walk out the door, you hear the briefcase click closing.

Once out of the room, you look around and realize that nothing has really changed, all faces are familiar, except for three people: a couple talking to a child. After a brief analysis you find yourself facing the passport clients, mother and daughter. The man doesn't look older than 60 and has kind eyes, almost as if he doesn't live on this side of the wall.

They don't seem to notice you

Your observation is interrupted by Merkel's loud, proud voice, right behind you. Here it comes

"This is Elizabeth Loyd and Percival, two trusted clients. Elizabeth and Percival, this is my little sister, she will be on the march today, if you need anything in the future you can talk to her."

Hearing her name, you notice that Merkel really wasn't creative at all. Who would use the initial letter of a surname as a symbol? Anyone who heard the stories about L and met a loyde who knows a Merkel would make the connection. As you turn around, you swallow your nervousness and try to put on your best smile as you say your name to them. The blonde woman who finally has a name, Elizabeth, leans closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you wonder if she can feel the jumble of emotions that is unraveling inside you.

She smiles a smile that makes you sure she does and reaches out and greets you with a firm grip, if she noticed the sweat on your hands, she didn't let on. She also looks a little more comfortable.

Maybe because she noticed you said her real name, idiot.

You hate yourself for one second and the next you want to be without gloves because it feels soft and warm.

The man, Percival, comes next and looks at you suspiciously and the smile fades from your face, you wonder if no one else can smell the strong smell he gives off, a smell of cheap whiskey and arrogance. Still, he holds out his hand and this time you thank the gods for the gloves. Make sure you don't bow your head or fail in your posture. He still looks at you like you killed his son. Useless even to pretend, for God's sake.

Merkel watches the exchange from afar and nods to Elizabeth, she responds and Percival walks away looking uneasy. You look around uncomprehendingly, feel a little left out, and wonder which computer must have Tetris installed.

You would kill for a distraction right now.

Going out on the street in a crowded march while being chased by two groups still makes you sick.

Your brother approaches and extends his hands around you. You've missed him for the past few weeks. He still wears the perfume you gave him for his birthday and it makes you sink deeper into the hug. You know he's going to be mad when he finds out what happened so you enjoy as much affection as you can

"Little sister, in addition to our conversation I need to tell you something" his voice is low in tone and you doubt you would understand the words if you weren't so close to him "but I can't do that until the march is over. Meet me at usual table at the restaurant where we celebrate our achievements, It's very important"

His even low voice is charged with strong emotion and you are genuinely worried, Merkel has never been like this before.

"I'll do it, brother, I promise. Whatever it is, we can work it out together" you say with all the certainty you can muster in your voice, because you need him to understand that this is true.

You feel eyes on you and as you look up you notice that Elizabeth keeps an eye on your exchange with Merkel while talking to the little girl's father, from the distance she probably can't understand anything and you don't know if she celebrates or cares with so much attention received. A little further away is a Percival who pretends to be busy with the coat he's wearing. He also pays attention to your exchange, but his talent for discretion is as effective as his ability to open doors.

Your eyes return to the concentrated blue eyes that are in front of you and Merkel speaks in an almost inaudible way:

"When I whistle, I need you to raise your open umbrella and stay alert. The three people we're going to cross are very important, nothing can go wrong. But if it does, I'll be at the restaurant, whatever happens find me there."

Noticing the proximity of Percival and Elizabeth, you place your hand on your brother's shoulder and smile as you speak a little louder:

"Don't worry man, it's always a pleasure to help you. I'll leave my briefcase here, then meet you to get it. Good march."

Merkel shows that she understands his strange move and smiles, you greet some friends of his that you haven't seen in a while and as you head towards the exit, you meet a pair of deep green eyes. Elizabeth is gleaming in the cold lights that are refracted by the mosaic of the gate, she looks into your eyes, ever alert, looks at the object in your hands and nods her head with a half smile, do you think the guard's idea black rain was hers.

As you wave back, you can feel that a pair of eyes haven't left your back since the moment of your brother's embrace, as the old man is saying goodbye to the family, you know who they belong to and decide not to look for them. If the STASI, KGB or local gang find you, he doesn't own the pair of eyes you want to remember before you die.

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the gate and blend into the crowd.

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

After leaving Merkel's office block, you take a hat out of your backpack and wear your sunglasses as you look around, not that a local gang member is here but because if he sees you in disguise he will ask a series of questions and he has enough problems already, plus STASI must be monitoring this area and the last thing you want is to be arrested. You decide to tuck your coat into your backpack to change your look, and while internally debating your ability to ignore the cold, your eyes catch the almost snowy blond hair in the crowd.

This signals that they are already on the march and you decide to get a little closer to them, but make sure you do this without drawing attention to yourself since the nasty man is still there. Elizabeth is on your diagonal absorbing all the extraneous details that might be a possible threat, she seems so focused on the job of passing the owner's gentle eyes in a safe way that it makes you wonder how important he is and if she's noticed you.

A few meters later a familiar noise floats through the march and you open the umbrella almost instantly, as do other protesters.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Percival taking the man's family across and sometime later Elizabeth does the same. You notice that her posture has changed and when she decides to stop for a better look, the crowd drags her and you can no longer locate her.

Her feet continue forward and as some signs are raised by the protesters, you try to find your brother. Unsuccessfully. You decide to trust their ability and hope that you can meet him again at the restaurant.

You also want Elizabeth to be okay.

Continuing on the march, after two or three long blocks you notice the familiar silhouette of one of the STASI bosses, he is watching the crowd as if looking for someone, but he doesn't seem to notice you. You notice observers on top of buildings and decide to leave the streets. Whether it's the Local Gang, KGB or STASI itself you don't know and decide you don't want to know.

Your brain tries to design routes to escape and your body mimics the movements of the closest protesters so as not to draw attention to you, but when some agents in black point in your direction and make space in the crowd, you run between people to seek shelter in somewhere you know and at every step you are sure that the day will be worse than you thought.

Damn Murphy's Law

#lorraine broughton x reader #lorraine broughton #atomic blonde #charlize theron

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weaponmistress · 4 years ago

Text

See You Again

- Hatake Kakashi x Reader

Pronouns: They/Them

Word Count: 1939

~•~

A bland brown coffin emerged from the ground, rumbling as it rises. Ninjas in front of the rising coffin were all high on alert. There was no sign or whatsoever plastered on the coffin so they didn't knew who exactly was reincarnated to the living world.

The covering of the coffin fell down with a huge sound of bang! erupting. The reincarnated body was still hidden well with darkness still looming inside.

Slowly, as if the darkness was whisked away by the harsh wind of the land they were on, the person was finally revealed.

It sent shivers to many people's spines.

Looking as lifeless as like any other reincarnation. Dull (E/C) pupils surrounded with soulless black sclera and dirtied paper-like skin with cracks all over the body. It was like a ragged doll.

The (L/N) moved slowly out from their coffin without showing any emotions at all. Their eyes were cast down yet visible to the view of their 'enemies', their arms dangling just by their sides. They finally awoke from their deep slumber, their eyes now growing wider and a tad brighter.

"What is...this?" they muttered to themselves as they took upon themselves to look at their hands. Eyes reflecting in horror as they shook their head slowly, regret kicking her to reality.

"No no no no..." their continuous mutter made the ninjas around them in a panic. They were still in a daze, surely they were still dreaming. They continued to frantically looked at their own body, only to see more dull colors of their once beautifully colored skin along with cracks on the skin's surface. They tried to scratch off a piece of a loosely hanging paper-like texture from their skin and expected a painful ache but there was nothing.

They couldn't feel anything at all.

They looked at the trees surrounding their area and they could see clearly how the wind was strong, being able to rustle a lot of them in one direction with a few leaves coming off from its branches.

They still couldn't feel the wind they once liked when it brushed against their skin.

"Reincarnation!" they whipped their head at the source of the loud cry. Suddenly, their feet began to move, picking up speed ad it charged at the well-grouped people.

"Scatter everyone, they specialize in executing their moves at people in groups!" it was the commander who spoke up, now commanding people not to be too closed from each other. His eyes were glued to the person's form coming in at full speed.

"(Y/N)...!" it was their name yet their head wouldn't turn to where they heard it. They hadn't heard his voice calling out for their name for long. It was nostalgic, their heart ached knowing who it was.

As much as they wanted to stop every movement, they couldn't.

They suddenly stopped, much to the surprise of many. (Y/N) was in no way controlling their own body. It's as if there was some puppet master playing with their puppets for a show.

A bloody show was decided.

Their head scanned around the crowd and saw who they were looking for in an attempt to take advantage of the time the controller let then stood in the middle of the battlefield as if trying to intimidate the ninjas around. They wanted to see his face before her body would continuously ravage their opponents who were once their comrades when they were still alive and well.

"Nice to see you looking well, Kakashi," their sweet voice caused an outbreak of small whispers around the said man. Although they were in war, they couldn't help but wonder who the person in front of them was. They were all caught off guard that yet another one was related to their assigned commander, the well-known Kakashi of the Sharingan.

"It really is you, (Y/N)..." he didn't knew they were going to be reincarnated as well. Their body was buried deep in a secured forest where he usually visits to secretly guard the place. All accurate information regarding them were all kept inside of Konoha, with only a few notable people including Kakashi and Tsunade new of such information. He curled his hand into a fist in a fit of anger as it shook violently. All he ever wanted for the (L/N) was to be be buried with peace and quiet. The mastermind was surely capable.

"I guess this sucker wouldn't mind using me to kill one by one," they growled in between their teeth when they caught a ninja by surprise. They held her by the neck tightly, fingernails almost sunken into the flesh of the ninja. (Y/N) inspected her as she continued to claw her way out, her feet thrashing around when she was lifted up from the ground's support. Their dulled eyes caught the silver colored forehead protector. They weren't aware that they were tightening their grip on the poor girl as they continue to inspect her other clothing features that she wore.

Their thoughts were suddenly disturbed by someone who had kicked their body forcefully strong for them to release the captive from their clutches. A few others were able to take the girl out from the reach of the reincarnated (Y/N).

"G-Gai...thank you."

Gai was surprised to see his good friend come back from the dead to fight against him and his division. He had to swallow all his guilt for kicking at an unknown corpse's body with (Y/N) as the one who was conscious.

(Y/N) felt dizzy but their body stood firm as the dent by their hips were being restored. She wasn't dizzy by Gai's ferocious kick, in fact, she was unfazed with the impact that it had on her host. All the people were wearing the same outfit along with the forehead protector. It read as "Shinobi", the common titles of all around them.

'What is even happening?!' they thought when their body continued to injure a few others one by one due to their distances from each other. They tried their best to surpassed the urge of their body to continue moving on its own but to no avail.

"(Y/N)!" the said person stopped from going to another victim in an instant. Their body slowly turned to face and Kakashi was stunned for a moment when he caught the attention of the former ninja. Tears were streaming from her eyes like quiet streams. They looked pitiful but Kakashi couldn't let his guard down even with them in front of him.

"I'm sorry..." there were a lot of meanings to their apology when they spoke the same words as earlier. They took out their sword and aimed it at Kakashi, the same guy who they begged in the heavens not to fight. They charged at Kakashi with precise speed but was intercepted quickly with a lightning jutsu by him. They were hit straight at their chest with no blood dripping from the body nor his hand. As quick as they could, they swung their sword at Kakashi but he was quicker, who dodged it with complete ease. As he dodged it, he gave himself a few feet away from them.

The open wound of the reanimated was restored slowly with no open injury to be seen.

"I can't understand why I was reanimated..." they choked out with tears still coming out from their eyes. They were bitter but most of all, they were devastated. They didn't knew such a jutsu would be used yet again and this time, she was included in the list to cite fear in the hearts of many. They were still confused and frustrated that they were summoned to the living world. They couldn't think straight, their emotions were hindering them from coming to an actual conclusion as to why they were summoned.

"This is war (Y/N), you're one of our enemies," Kakashi spoke with a strong voice but deep down, there was a tinge of sadness. No amount of tears, words and screams could justify at what (Y/N) felt, as if they were hit by a splash of cold water. Their eyes went wide for a split second before it turned somewhat empty.

"I can't forgive myself when I died that night..." they spoke quietly but caught his attention. (Y/N) didn't looked straight at him even after recovering and attacking right away. Their body wasn't in their control so why should they even try to bother pair up both her action and their reaction to all of these, they were innocent after all.

Were they?

"Don't blame yourself, it wasn't your fault when I was injured, I should've been the one who's guilty for that," Kakashi replied as he matched up to their pace of attacks, blocking every each and one of them. Since the leader of the third division didn't give any commands of attacking the reincarnated (L/N), they would hush themselves when one of them would ask if it was the right time to attack.

(Y/N) lost grip of the sword they had in possession when Kakashi took their sword without them noticing. The sword they held were exclusively made for them and no other than Kakashi was able to learn the way they held it for a smoother and stronger techniques to be executed. When this thought clouded (Y/N) as they saw him holding unto their most prized possession, their eyes were blurred with tears covering most of their eyesight. They missed the times when they worked with Kakashi, how each moment, bad or good, there was something special in every one of them.

Without their weapon, their body resolved this problem by performing a few short hand seals to which Kakashi realized it shortly. "Scatter and distance yourself!" he commanded way ahead before (Y/N) performed the technique.

"Earth Release: Hidden Spears Technique," (Y/N) whispered under their breath without crouching to touch the land they stood. A few of the ninjas wondered what technique they performed until they could feel their feet getting drowned from the once solid ground to somewhat muddy as it swallowed their feet. Only a few were able to escape from the ground's clutches as they took refuge around the surrounding trees. Without wasting any more time, (Y/N) enclosed one of their hand into a fist, causing a lot of those captured to gasped in pain. Small yet sharp prickling spikes came from each side of the sunken feet of each individual trapped victim. There was no intention of it to stop growing in both size and sharpness.

'This sucker really likes a slower and painful deaths for his enemies,' they thought as they stared at the scene, the nearby radius of each victims had form little pools of blood caused by the growing spikes piercing their skins slowly ever so painfully.

"Hey Kakashi," their quiet voice rang around the area. Kakashi was one of those fortunate to escape just in time. He stood a few trees away from (Y/N) who was in the middle of all the chaos. He could see how many of those under his leadership were trying to get out from the Earth's hold, a few of them looked paled with desperation in their eyes. When he heard their voice, he was drawn to get near as quick as he could.

"Kaka-sensei be careful!" Sakura, his former student advised with worry laced in her voice. She wasn't familiar with the enemy now but she knew they were somebody important to her former teacher.

"Take care of them," Gai finally spoke up after injuring (Y/N) just earlier. Kakashi stared at the two of them and nodded firmly. Kakashi went up close to their opponent, face to face with them, on the ground. He was daring, (Y/N) knew that. Coming closer face to face to them was a big hazard to any of their opponents, with only their advantage of being unaffected by the jutsu they performed. No one knew this except those who had fought them and none of them were kept alive; Kakashi was the only surviving opponent they faced before they became closer.

"You called for me?" his voice sounded liked a casual melody, just like how (Y/N) loved it. Kakashi was in no way lowering his guard down but he tried his best to comfort them in a way he could without showing any of his vulnerable side. It wasn't their choice nor fault that they were brought back to the living land.

"Yeah," they smiled bitterly while their hand rose up. Their body was determined to injure Kakashi as it tried its best to grab a hold of his arm that was the nearest to them.

"Damn (Y/N), calm your body, do you really want me that bad?" he jokingly said in a lighthearted tone. The (L/N) was immediately embarrassed hearing such statement from him but their actions didn't falter as it still tried its best to get a grip of him.

"C-come on Kakashi, quit making fun of me!" they whined while their nose scrunched hearing his cheesy line. Kakashi smiled softly seeing how they acted just the same as before.

"Same old (Y/N)."

"A-and same old Kaka-idiot!" their exchanges of replies looked childish, as if there was no war happening around them. Their expression was the total opposite to as their action, both hostile to each other

"I-is...the sword still with you?" he knew they were not pertaining to the one he just stole earlier. He frowned behind his mask and looked relaxed despite dodging every attacks coming from them.

"Of course, but I couldn't bring myself to use it," he muttered without looking at them in the eye.

"So you actually kept it," (Y/N) was somewhat amused as they spoke. They wondered what life could've been if they were still alive.

Maybe they could've ended up with him...no.

'Don't hurt yourself more than you already are...' they thought to themselves.

"How's life?"

"Somewhat the same," he shrugged his shoulders acting like it was just nothing but (Y/N) knew there was more to his carefree behavior.

"You must have been--"

"I missed you," there was a moment of vocal silence with only their clashed bodies and footwork causing the noise. A slow chuckle suddenly came out from (Y/N), catching Kakashi in surprise.

There it was again, tears coming down from their overly-dulled face. Their body finally stopped to recover a bit of what was damaged.

"It really wasn't your fault. Thanks to you, I wasn't as injured as I was supposed to be," he decided to continue.

"To think you protected me like that even at the cause of your life was already painful enough,"

"--but realizing now that you haven't forgiven yourself for leaving me...that hurts more than anything,"

"S-so you actually kept the sword because...--!!" as (Y/N) finally spoke, Kakashi took this opportunity as their body still continued to recover. They were mildly shock but they weren't offended that Kakashi took a somewhat inconvenient time to attack as they spoke.

"The sword is the only thing that reminded me of you, as if your soul was still bound to it," (Y/N) looked at the sword he used to stabbed their heart and then at him. His head was cast down, looking at the sword that pierced their body with empty eyes. Only when he looked up was the time he felt something.

"At least you could use the fake one," they grinned cheekily, stroking his face soothingly. They didn't feel the pain as what most would when they were struck at the heart. Their body gradually weakened with the physical and emotional impact Kakashi brought to them. They looked at the hand they were using and saw how it was getting brittle.

As the body of (Y/N) began to strip its dulled paper-like skin, the technique they executed canceled immediately, freeing all of its captive. The effects of the technique to the victims weren't too much but they would be vulnerable to enemies without immediate treatment.

(Y/N)'s weakened body fell down when most of their body was crippling away. Kakashi crashed against them with his hands still on their sword but they didn't react.

"Hey, Kakashi."

"Yes, (Y/N)?"

"Don't follow me just yet, alright?" Kakashi could feel the rough touch of their thumb as it rubbed against his cheek.

"O-of course, I'll live for the two of us," he held what was left of (Y/N)'s upper body. As much as they wanted to joke around, they knew there was little time before their spirit go back to the pure land.

"Nonetheless, I'll see you again for sure," before their body perished completely, he saw their last smile he would ever see face to face.

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imhereforthetryus · 5 years ago

Text

Love is Hate and there no other way

(Anti Harringroves pls do not intereact with thid fanfiction your welcome to talk about anything else but this fic yes dont worry about the title i just do dEeP 💩 )

Tags: @thelonious-jagger-smitten @i-am-church-the-cat it glitching and so u might have to use the link

Tw: for abuse and panic attacks i apologize deeply i dont know how to do the read more thing im so sorry

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19911385

I be like we self projecting 👋🤦🏼‍♀️😂 noises

(Why get therapy when u can get bad coping methods 😎)

Words:7,932

Billy's eyes were blue kind of like his mother's blue but not really sure he had the paleness blue of his mothers but her eyes were just different he took a lot after his mother, the same not same eyes and bright blonde curls that seemed to grow a foot a month.

He figured that why Neil hated him so much Neil and his mom relationship was weird, in a way not just the whole abuse thing but that Billy could never really tell who was the victim and who was the aggressor.

Sure sometimes it was obvious when Neil was towering over his mother as she stood on the floor tired and hurt but then there were times when both were yelling at each other and trading insults, or his mom eyes pale and blue filled with rage would hit a plate against Neil, clawing at him and screaming truth be told at first it was amusing but he found himself laughing less and more just watching the scene unfold.

“My little Isla...Don’t cry everything is fine...let me tell you an old story of mine...about the necklace” then she would start weaving tales endlessly he would laugh and she would smile she was always a great storyteller she always wanted to be an actor it was kind of ironic how she was acting all the time … acting like everything fine “Is my bunny happy” he would not and hug her and everything would be fine but it wasn’t and maybe it would never be.

Like how if he had just been able to keep his mouth shut about the new boy at school. Who played with Billy the only child to not shun him, and who drew him a picture and how cute he looked and how he was going to marry him one day his dad anger wouldn’t have increased tenfold forever. His mom wouldn’t have left angry at Neil unacceptable of him but then if he hadn’t he wouldn’t have had his mother there to kiss his bruise stinging from Neil fist and the tears from the word faggot he didnt know what it meant but he knew it wasnt good, but she was there she was awalys there to tell him there was “nothing wrong with loving a boy that love is just loving and wherever and whoever you find it with loves you back and that the only thing that matters Isla”

He missed being a child but was he ever a child he was grown up before he knew it. He forced himself to stop thinking about everything focus on something else,...your eyes he had just noticed that his eyes well they were always blue but their not really blue if that made sense they sort of changed blues but to his drunk mind taking dangerous trips fueled by chugged countless cheap beers at Tommy H. Party it didn’t matter.

If he was drunk or sober one thing that stayed the same was he fucking hated this day...hated how his mother had left him and how she loved him she awalys used to say how much she loved him while hugging him gently like it would make Neils slaps , his red cheeks and tears disappear, as if her overwhelming love bundled with hugs and kisses would make up for it, but all it did was make Billy confused if she could love him so easily why couldnt his dad and then she came back.

Like as if she couldn't bother leaving him alone without the emotional damage of coming back she had only done it a few days at a time after years of hiding away with the words or letters getting fewer but then she had ghosted him a year later but he still remembered that day.

He remembered being thirteen his favourite toy bunny the one his mother had when she was a child and the one he spelt with to protect him from the monsters under the bed when she couldn’t sleep with him that beautiful bunny disposed and ripped to shreds it white fur blood-splattered and it head gone all because “he was too old for them” sitting on the floor of his bedroom just praying every night for his mom to come back and take him with her, and trying to lock himself in and saying his prayer faster as if to make her appear right there and then...and she did eventually on the eve of his fourteenth birthday there she was in the flesh, sneaking through the tiny window and grabbing Billy.

She shushed his protest and laughed at him but she was happy so he was happy and very confused But isn't that the life of a child, to be one without power or choice, always going with the change in the wind and praying for a safe harbor? .Wasn't that always his life going with the wind and following the “adults” he was sure they never grew up his mom was still a believer in hope even in despair while that was surely a good thing for her. it wasn't for Billy nothing was ever good for him. He was a ping pong to his parents, a useless fix it child.

They demanded him to pick a side many times even when there was no fight to be won it was a never-ending war to win his love they bad-mouthed each other constantly but he just stood there trying not to intervene in their war of hate, but he had too sometimes when he didn't want to or else he would be the target they desired to know who he loved more, but in truth there is no such distinction. They asked and should the “right” answer not arrive there is anger, swift and brutal in the form of his mom shunning him and his dad hitting him.

So even when his mom came it wasn't for him but just to win another point to piss off Neil, but he was used to the bribes. it wasn't too bad though he could get used to the perks he decided he would make the best of it as his mom carried him on her slim shoulders, he would admire the stars from above to him she stood like a giant.

Or maybe that the way he envisioned her he couldn't help exaggerate her tiny height even when he was boarding on it. he held on close afraid she disappear again just to let him calm his nerves she let him touch her hair curly, long and blonde a shining clone of his and play with her necklace. She had told him the story about how her grandmother had made the necklace from the last of their metal as a birthday gift many times usually with Neil letting a murmur of disapproval fall from his lips but this time it felt different maybe even magical. As they were walking along the boardwalk his socks light against the board, as his mom flowered him with Ice-cream galore. It was his favorite Strawberry and five scoops high he smiled happily letting the dark light shine across his face and the pools of ice cream melt onto his clothes.

They had come across an abandoned climbing place, an adventure playground of sorts, it was dark and quiet but his mom said it was okay and encouraged him to climb the fence.

She had done it too her heels landing against the sand she had laughed so he did, running up against the wooden structure which reeked of paint but she was giddy like a child taking him everywhere. At some point they ran onto the cold wet damp grass in the rain barefoot, her colorful dresses always finding a way to light up in the darkest nights, the light green still stood out even amongst the grass and as they laid there. His mom rubbing his hair and pointing at all the stars and telling him about it like a well of infinite knowledge.

“You see William that star right there” he had nodded hesitantly she rarely called him William, only when she wanted his attention, she usually called him Isla or Bunny and while he protested those pet names as long as he had been living she had just laughed and just pulled him closer he never thought he miss those names so fucking much. before you get the wrong idea she wasn’t dead but it was like that she was a ghost now refusing to acknowledge Billy but this time there were no secret trips to wherever, maybe Billy just outgrew them or his mom outgrew him he wasn't sure which possibility was worse.

As his bruised muscles cracking with pain,up against his hard mattress nothing like a beating and shitty necessities not like Neil gave a damn to his comfort after all, he give him a semi comfortable bed because “cost” but Billy knew that was bullshit.

Neil would do anything to see Billy suffer it was practically his favourite hobby when he wasn’t gutting the insides of fish but it was practically the same Neil would rail in the fish with bait or in Billy cases kind words and flashy gifts. Then he would wait a bit till the fish took the bait like Billy would let his guard down a tiny bit.Then go in for the kill using his fishing pole and fist to kill the fish slowly and painfully like he would to Billy and he knew for a fact that not only were these mattress so stiff and hard. They cost way more for whatever reason rich people like hard mattresses. but it could be worse his dad could have not given him a room at all yeah it could be worse it was something Billy always thought about him finally getting away from Neil not by his own choice but by cps he tried it before but Neil was so charming and Billy wasn’t ten and a half anymore, his mom wasn't there to challenge Neil and to protect him.

He couldn't risk a visit now so it would never happen not by any fault of his own at least he knew Neil could predict most of his movements.

He heard the horror stories he wasn’t going to subject himself to any more shit and while his dad was shit he was still legally required to provide for him otherwise how else would he use that line in his next argument, to justify his parenting methods and to complain about how hard it was raising a useless piece of shit like Billy and to think of it his father sure loved to complain about useless shit.

But he couldn’t complain he never could without a slap against his cheeks or his dad's famous speech scientifically designed to make anyone who hears it feel like shit which Billy already was, but hey the speech is such a great deal for shitty dads everywhere who wouldn’t love to mentally toture their child when their fist became too bruised to hit them.

And in all honesty Billy loathed that speech more than he loathed himself, more than he loathed his dads fist, more than he loathed girls how he hated to fuck them and go out with them and even more than he loathed Harrington.

Stupidly perfect Harrington who made Billy heart skip and leap, who made Billy blush at an insult who made Billy nervous and not just out of fear, he made Billy scared way too scared.

He could not be with Harrington even if he wasn't straight which he couldn't be because almost all the gays in California used Farrah Fawcett Hairspray it how they found each other.

Not like Billy ever went as far like that even then he was too much of a coward, his pale blue eyes glanced at the alarm finally calm for once because this was his favourite part of the day, when he could just lay in bed and glanced up at the ugly peach ceiling letting his thoughts flowed like a river stream quiet yet loud.

He pulled the wool cover closer shivering in his empty room another form of sadstic toture if Neil wasn’t beating the shit out of him he was fucking up Billys air and heat supply. He never knew when he would be hot or cold plus it was just another way for Neil to keep him on his fucking toes.

Like he didnt do that every single fucking day, with Neil mood deciding if Billy could only get away with a slap and a walk outside in the snow and how he hated the cold, he wasnt used to it . Ofcourse, he was a California Baby he could stand hot weather but not cold especially when he only had one blanket to protect himself. Because everything belonged to Neil if he pissed Neil off too much his belongings would be gone because they were never his , Neil spiteful face popped up and he imagined another cruel smile as he “grounded” Billy.

“You need to learn a lesson about Respect and Responsibility” he saw his dad, felt him “punishing” Billy, he felt his tears and struggled to get out of this hellish nightmare, his breath heavy, breathe breathe don't be such a pussy his panic attack was stopped by a knock on his door he opened the door angrily.

“What the fuck do you want M-..” his father stared at him stone cold and hard like he awalys was calculating watching Billy squirm.

“Is this how you talk to your sister” he grabbed Billy chin and squeezed it tight.

“No sir” Billy tried to make himself shorter, trying to disappear into the wall but it never worked, no matter how he wished it did but his father was in a good mood suprisngly so he let Billy off with a slap and a spilt lip, and Billy could thank him right then and there for not beating the shit out of him for being so rude and disrespectful, but the stare of disappointment and the glare was more painful than the backhand.

Billy forced himself to go downstairs dreading every step to eat with his “family” as far as Billy was conserend his mom was his only family but all his stubbornness did was put Neil in a bad mood.

“You’re Mother is gone Billy suck it up” he would say chewing his steak and despite Billy hating eating breakfast with Susan and Neil , being under his dad microscope was irritating and annoying but he knew if he didn't eat all his food, thank Susan, and be quiet and not exist then there wouldn’t be any food to digest, because Neil had done it before It was either eat everything Susan made no matter how much it taste like horseshit or not eat at all or even worse eat the way Neil wanted him too and while Billy personally thought both options were cruel and unusual toture and neither qualified as the best option but he still needed food to survive so he ate it all.

Every last spoonful in fear for Neil trailing eyes on him, his back arching aganist the chair, eating softly and trying not to throw up watching Max shoveling burned eggs and bacon into her mouth, his mom food was way better.

He glared at Susan subtly as he thanked her how he wanted to go off on her but he wasn't in the mood to skip school today and be bruised. so instead he took his anger out on Max he yelled at her to get up, which resulted in her eating her scrambled eggs slower then finally getting up and taking forever to get ready, grabbed Max by the elbow when she wasn't moving fast enough. he hated running into Neil in the morning who was less of a morning person than Billy and he grabbed her hard enough to bruise but not enough to get shit from Neil.

He ignored her screaming at him to the point where she was being a cocky little shit, and had the nerve to put her disgusting mud covered red shoes on his dashboard, with a little grin that stupid brat and when he told her to knock it off she flipped him off. so he drove like a manic letting his hands off the steering and speeding up just to see the fear in her eyes and dropped her off to the stares of the middle schoolers.

He drove back even faster it was the only way plus he couldn't miss getting ready for his favorite class of the day aka Bothering Steve for 40 minutes, he stood against his Camero letting cigarette smoke fill the air, then he went inside shoving a couple of kids who dared to look at Billy in anyway no one was that stupid to do it on purpose but still he had to install fear or he would be scared.

He wasn't always mean he used to be kind but kindness never got him anything but a broken heart and fag screamed at his face by older boys, a shove to the ground and the laughter of his classmates it never gave him anything but humiliation.

So He hid behind a charming carefree smile and reinvented himself, learning to keep his feelings inside to stop thinking about boys that way. The hurt lodged in that sweet heart like a slow acting poison and before long he became a “problem child,” destined for a life behind bars. He hated his “parents,” hated the system, hated the government and the whole damn world he had to or he would hate himself.

The hate It burst forth in his speech, his actions, his attitude. He got close to people just to hurt them, power at last. Nothing pleased him more than to walk away from a new lover ripping their valentines while they whimpered and ran, To shove a kid down and make him cry to spit the word fag in the kids fave.. To Billy people were “bad, dangerous, and they deserved what they got." Because he deserved what he had gotten.

Steve loathed first period, not only because it's English Class but Billy who made it his personal goal to harass Steve anytime he could which meant every class they shared together. Because Billy obviously didn't think his crude and sexual teasing,his fists and trips down the hallway was enough time to toture Harrington and fortunately for Steve.

There were only four classes but that meant Billy had to make an impression so Steve sighed as Billy came in late what a surprise , came up to him, knocking his books down against the floor, Mrs.Ava looked like she was going to say something but the look Billy gave her shut her up Steve reisted a snort great everyone was intimidated by Billy.

As the minutes of the lesson passed, the ceaseless buzzing of the classroom grew quieter watching them it was no secret that Billy and Steve weren’t pals but a look of shock always seemed to come on their face watching their interactions a quiet glance from Billy made the chatter started up again and they pretended to be talking about something else and looked away.

“Hey Prettyboy” Billy licked his lips at him, slamming into the seat next to Steve, Billy smiled at him.

Steve rolled his eyes trailing the pencil in between his fingers, he was way too tired to deal with Billy “Don't you have someone else to bother” .

Billy pouted giving him a small smirk he even makes puppy eyes look evil Steve sighed.

“But you’re my favourite Stevie” Steve kicked Billy from under the table.

“Fuck off” Billy just laughed and reisted the urge to whimper why was he being so weak it was just a little cut there Billy felt himself ponder looking at Steve who was trying very hard not to look at Billy and to focus on the lesson which Billy should be doing to, but Steve and his perfect lips and how much Billy wanted to kiss them, his soft hair i wonder what it would feel like oh how he wanted to kiss Steve, shove him against a wall, fuck him and punch him all at the same time why do you have to be so damn amazing Harrington.

“Ouch you really hurt my feelings Harrington..I think i just shed a tear” Billy smiled oh how he loved first period plus steve was so cute when he was annoyed FAG his mind screamed he reisted the urge to punch himself, Steve gave Billy a small smirk.

“Bullshit you dont have feelings” Billy chuckled slowly unbutoing his top not like it was open anyways but cmon if he didnt give the cows here a show people might think he a fag which he is , he winked to Steve.

“You’re right about that Pretty Boy” Steve glared and turned towards the window suddenly interested in the blue sky and clouds that dotted the sky. The bell rang finally freedom Steve thought he was one comment away from shoving his pencil up Billy ass.

why does he have to be such an asshole even worse a cute one and yeah it was pretty cliche of him to have a crush on his bully. but like can you blame him Billy was hot and straight his mind screamed at him it was too risky plus he didnt think he could handle Billy disgust more than his fists but Billy was so hot and an asshole but hes a hot one.

Steve groaned in frustration stupid horny brain but this felt weird and different he didnt like boys right i mean, and if he was gay which he wasn’t wasnt he liked nancy for a long time goodness sake then couldn’t he atleast have a crush on a boy who isnt an asshole, but what was he, after all if you weren’t straight then you were gay but he liked both he couldn’t possibly be gay and straight at the same time, there had to be a word and Steve had to investigate it for his sake so on he went after Mrs. Ava class to the library.

Steve ducked from Nancy and Jonathan he felt bad about missing lunch but if they even knew where he was going they would ask questions he wasn't ready to answer yet when he saw them leave he sprinted towards his car driving to the town library which was well not im Hawkins but the next town over he couldn’t bare to see anyone he knew. He opened the doors to the library entering he was hit with a cloud of dust, and started to look around.

Row after row of neatly lined up books with their spines facing outward, colour coded with dots, fiction section arranged in alphabetical order, young adults section, comfortable chairs, tables for quiet study, muffled stillness.

He took a breath walking up to the resident sub librarian Mrs. Mervil the hawk who stood about 5’4 her lip always tight and pressed as if she was simply always waiting for disappointment as if she never bothered to smile, her eyebrows and eyes were thin and like her whole self her clothes reflected that always dread and uncolorful, so professional and tight. It made Steve parents outfits look casual and who despite Steve best try hated him for whatever reason, maybe it was the blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes those combinations always seemed to despise Steve or just everyone but mostly Steve.

He gave her a false smile “Hi Mrs.Mervil” she turned towards him. her eyes cold and bored she took off her silver rimmed glasses for a young woman she sure acted old she put down whatever book she was reading he examined it, she slammed it before he could see the title but it was a space book for sure.

“What is it Steven” he sighed and gave her a smile he hoped his face wasn't giving away anything.

“Mr.Harrington if you’re just going to stand there and go dont waste my time” he bit his lip and shoved his hands deeper in his cardigan. He couldn’t do this she already hated him she could tell everyone, or even worse whatever worse was. But he needed to know this more than he needed to breathe, he could wait but he wasn't willing to wait.

“I need to find a book...to tell me about my sexuality” at that her face and demeanor softened a bit like she was remancissing she gave him a small smile and lead him towards the shelf her heels dragging along the whole way.

“Alright come along Steven I don't have all day” he sighed in relief and walked up with her, he tried to make conversation as she rustled through the books.

#harringrove #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove #harringrove fanfic #steve harrington

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probably-writing-x · 6 years ago

Text

High Society (The Reveal)

~A Tom Holland AU Series~

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @sleepwalkingdragon @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @shamelessbookaddict @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee

Warnings: In-detail depictions of death and murder, language warning, mentions of violence and gang crime.

Notes: Wow! It's finally here!!! I hope this reveal lives up to your expectations... I'm so nervous to post it ahhhh! Let me know allof your final thoughts...

~~~Wednesday 30th January 2019~~~

"-I am arresting you under suspicion of the murder of Imogen Clarke. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention something that you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given as evidence," Her voice is certain of every word and you swear for a moment you feel all hearts drop to the tiled floor. Going, going, gone.

~~~Friday 25th January 2019~~~

"Dad, please stop going on about it," You sigh, fixing the light curls of your hair for the millionth time, "Can I not just enjoy tonight? Or is that not allowed after the big sister reveal?"

Peter and Evan were stood in the doorway of your bedroom, clearly giving you extremely unimpressed looks about your decision to attend the Winter Ball.

"It's not just Imogen," Peter points out, nudging at his husband, "You know how we feel about that Thomas kid,"

You let out an exaggerated groan, turning around to face them, "Stop it! You're acting like he's completely destroying who I am. In fact, he's the only reason I actually want to be there tonight. I would be very happy to never have to see Imogen again. But I want to spend one last night at that school before you flip everything upside down again, okay?"

Your outburst was unexpected by all of you and your Dads are stunned into a welcomed silence, both of them looking at their baby girl with blinking eyes, refusing to believe that this school had changed her that much. But it had. And, of course, they wouldn't accept that. She was too pure to be tainted by the posh kids at that school.

"Tom's here," You sigh, more thankful than you'd be able to express to him. Turning quickly to check yourself in the mirror, you brush your hands cautiously over the material of your dainty dress, making sure the boxing gloves still hung right over your heart. You welcomed the nerves, it made this all feel like a real school dance - and not a shattering goodbye.

Tom was waiting at the door when you made your way down the stairs and the shine in his eyes made you instantly know you'd made the right choice with your dress. It was a dark sky blue colour and fell over the curves of your hips, cutting off at the point on your thighs where your stretch marks faded. His eyes echoed a mix of complete adoration and an utter surprise that you'd be the one he'd attend the ball with tonight.

"Hello stranger," He croaks out, quickly clearing his throat to try to avoid his cheeks growing too much of a pink glow.

"Hello, Thomas," You chuckle, realising just how much you'd missed that damn face.

He grabs your hand when you're just close enough to him and pulls you flush against his chest, "Do we really have to go to the ball? Can't we have our own party?"

You hum against his words, welcoming the hot air that they bathed your face in, "Maybe we could sneak a few moments to ourselves,"

"I know this is meant to be some big reunion or whatever but can we please get going?" Sam calls from his seat in the back of Tom's car, poking his head out from the open window.

You laugh and greet the twins who had opted to dress in matching suits for the night. Tom opened your door for you and, soon, the four of you were journeying towards school; still with the sickening feeling in your stomach that it would be your last time.

~~~

The school was electrified with a warm buzz, with all of your year filtering through the doors and welcoming the familiarity of chart songs blasting through the overhead speakers. Tom was greeted by everyone he walked past and he made sure to say hello to them all, still happy to take the title of King of this school. It was only when he saw Lily that he really had to force the 'nice boy' demeanour.

"It's nice to see you Lily," He smiles politely, twisting his hand in yours slightly as though he still needed to confirm you were there, "Did you have a good holiday?"

"Oh relax with the small talk," She rolls her eyes, "Talk to me when you've got rid of the downgrade, honey," Her lips press against his cheek in a bitter display of affection before she's strutting off with an excessive display of confidence.

You speak up before Tom can even try to apologise, "Let's get a drink, I think we might need something stronger than punch if we're going to make it through comments like that,"

His laugh is a sound you didn't realise you were missing as he willingly accepts you tugging him towards the refreshments stand where Noah and Z are visible.

"Well hello, stars of the show," Noah wiggles his brows at the two of you, handing over a cup of fruit punch to Sam who had walked over too.

"Hey guys," You grin, reaching over to get two cups for you and Tom, "Did you have a good holiday?"

All of you engage in relaxed small talk until the sound of the microphone cracking makes everyone's eyes divert toward the stage.

Mrs Osterfield took her position behind the microphone and cleared her throat. It was only then that everyone else joined you: Harrison, Lily, Harry, Noah, Zendaya, Sam, Imogen, Tom and you.

"Well, you all look beautiful tonight guys and I'm glad we can all be here to celebrate together. Something I've really noticed about this group is the community spirit - you are all one big team and that's something that you should really embrace-" She continues with her speech about how brilliant you all were before the lights dim in the sports hall and you're all left in a strange, prolonged darkness.

It is only then that something flashes. You can't help but divert your eyes to Zendaya and Noah, both hiding a deep pride for all of this, clearly being at the heart of the plan. You go back to reading the words spilling across the electronic screen.

'We were all told this term to expose something about ourselves and about each other. But it's time we expose something about the school we're relying on for our futures. How about them completely dismissing everything fucked up that's going on in our year? The manipulation of their teachers by eighteen year old students. The manipulation of other students by people forcing them into twisted relationships,'

Everybody in your group looks to Imogen who is red with a burning fury.

'We're living in a fucked up school. And Lily, Imogen, all of you, this is where it stops,"

The lights don't come back on but the chatter of every student in here is enough to cover any need for illumination. Enough had already been seen. And, in the blue light glow of the enlarged screen, you watch Imogen storm away from the crowd. When you glance back up, Zendaya and Noah have disappeared into the crowd and it is too dark to see where they've gone.

You find yourself following the focus of the recent exposure and you finally catch up with Imogen at the stairs.

"Imogen," You start, watching as she pauses in her high-heeled steps on the inclined floor.

"Did you set this up? Was this all you?" She questions, clearly not holding enough respect for you to justify her making any eye contact.

"No, god, no. I had no idea," You respond.

It felt strange to be seeing her now, not just as the bitch Imogen but as a girl you had spent your first moments as the sibling of. The girl you had the potential to grow up to want to be just like.

"Then what do you want? Are you here for an apology or something?" It is only now that she turns round, arms folded and looking in all ways dissimilar from you. Maybe you were thankful for that - her beauty held a chilling sin.

"I found something out over Christmas and I think it's important that you know," You begin, wrapping your hands around each other to express your nerves without trembling onto the ground.

"Well? Spit it out,"

"You're my sister," You manage to finally release, the words feeling sickening to be directed at someone you wanted to completely despise.

The look on her face was one you were all too knowing to not expect. A mocking smirk and the delicate release of a pathetic laugh.

"What the fuck is that meant to mean?" She scoffs, stepping one stair closer to you.

"What I just said. I was ado-" You begin but she is quick to cut you off, stepping so close that you could see every particle of her makeup.

"Oh, honey, don't act like there's some familial bond between us," She lets out an exasperated laugh, "Because, sis, I'm pretty sure family wouldn't be willing to help somebody steal from me,"

You're sure it is audible when your words clatter against the floor, echoing irritatingly through mocking halls.

"Don't test me, (Y/N)," She shakes her head, "And don't ever assume we're family, darling,"

And then she's gone, leaving you at the bottom of these stairs, sure that you were going to wake up in any moment. Nothing.

You're not sure how long you stay there, sitting against the cold stairs, until someone is there to greet you.

The familiar aftershave of Tom's wraps around you like a blanket as his arms hold your waist with a relieving comfort.

"So I lost everyone at the party, I literally couldn't find anyone," He comments, a harmless remark for now.

Tom pulls himself closer to you, his head only inches from yours.

"Is this our chance to get away?" He mumbles, breath hot as his lips brush your ear.

Tom needs no reply as he pulls you through the corridors and out through the doors towards the swimming pool.

"Tom," You hiss but you can't say anything more as you feel your back press against the harshness of the cold wall tiles. It forces you to let out an involuntary squeak that is instantly silenced by Tom's lips on yours.

You melt into the contact that you had been missing for weeks and forget all about the rest. It was just him.

When he pulls away, his forehead is on yours and his nose bumps subconsciously with yours, "(Y/N)," He begins, welcoming the breathless nature of his words, "I know. I know your parents want you to leave. And I know you're going to leave after tonight," His confession feels like you've just been hit against the tiled wall once again, forceful and unforgiving.

"I-" You start, "How did you find out?"

"I knew your Dads were still debating it so I found Evan's number and I spoke to him whilst you were away," You find yourself gripping onto him a little tighter as he speaks, "I pleaded with him for ages to try to get you to stay. But he said the only way you'd ever be able to carry on here would be if you separated yourself from everyone who's had a bad impact on you. From me,"

"Tom I'm not staying here if-"

"I also knew that would be your response. So, I want to spend this one last weekend with you and then we'll decide your fate after that. We'll decide if you stay or go. But, let's just get away for a weekend," His positive encouragement is enough to make you want to agree wholeheartedly.

"Okay," You whisper and his face brightens enough to make your dark surroundings feel blinding.

"Then let's go, you know what your parents are like. They wouldn't want you to step a foot out of here with me," He points out, his hand gripping yours with more certainty than ever.

Tom goes to pull you away and it is in that moment that everything just stops. The shattering blow was an unmistakable sound and so was the ear bursting thud that followed. And, then, a stumbling silence.

"What wa-" Tom begins but he sees the way your eyes glaze over. The way your hand falls out of his and the way he's sure your heart audibly stops. It is only then that his eyes follow yours, tracing the invisible path to where you couldn't bare to rip your gaze from.

Unmistakable.

You could see how their hands were trembling, and how the trophy fit into them with a deathly uncertainty, a foreign power. Their eyes held a fury that was washed over with a sheer shock at what their own actions had just caused. And their stumbling feet told you that their mind still hadn't processed what their instincts had just caused.

"No," Tom shakes his head, feet chasing after the scene like they'd run fast enough to rewind it, "No, no, no, no,"

It was as clear as day in the dim setting. Her body, unforgivingly lifeless in the scarlet pooling of her once rushing blood. Her eyes, fluttered shut to echo a false hope that she was peaceful, only to be shattered by the ragged wound across her styled hair.

"What have you done?" Tom yells, his eyes diverting around every single feature of this mess.

The trophy clattered to the floor in another bone shuddering clash. And you could see how their hands trembled, a vision of thankfulness for the power they were able ro release from grip.

"She- she knew too much," They stumbled over the words like it wasn't their mouth saying them and it wasn't their hands that had just stopped all knowledge she could have held.

It was in that moment you could see how unreal this all seemed to Tom. In front of him was no longer a person he knew. It was a person he was sure he never wanted to meet. Because, behind trembling hands and crying eyes, there was someone who had just killed another. A murderer. His brother.

"She knew about the gang, and she knew about the pregnancy test," He shakes and the movement is recognisable in his fearful words, "And then I heard her talking to you (y/n), she knew about the necklace and us and Harrison,"

Tom can't possibly rip his eyes away from the boy in front of him but you know he's wishing he could be anywhere else. That he could wake up and have his younger brother again, and not this tainted form of the boy he once was.

"Okay, you need to get out of here," You nod, certain of your unsure words, "Go through the back alley to your house and stay there until we tell you to come back. We'll just say you didn't feel well and you came back once you heard something had happened,"

He looks at you and his eyes are blurring with a terrified haze.

"Tom, me and you need to go. We'll go to the gym and just say that we went there after the whole fiasco at the ball to spend some time together. Nobody will question it," You say to him and it is only then that he makes eye contact with you.

"Tom, am I going to prison?" The younger holland brother asks, and it is only then that he truly starts to cry.

"Hey, hey," Tom steps over to him and grips his shoulders, "You're my brother. I'd do anything for you. That's what it means to be a Holland, okay Harry?"

And then he's running.

You force yourself with everything to look down at the lifeless body. The dried blood that stained her hair and trailed down her face. It all felt too gone. Like she'd been gone for far too long.

"We need to get rid of that fucking trophy," You mention and you're sure that everything around you is spinning apart from that blood soaked weapon.

"T-Tom?"

Both of you look up to see Sam stood frozen in the doorway of the swimming pool, looking between you and Tom like he wanted to run as far away from you as possible.

"Sam, buddy, we need you to do something," Tom states, "I need you to take that trophy, go out the back door, and get it as far away from here as possible,"

Sam can't help but listen to the words of his brother, whom he was willing to trust with his life.

"It was Harry, wasn't it?" He says as his hands grasp the cold, twisted metal of the trophy.

"Now's not the time," Tom replies, still refusing to confirm it yet, "Get out of here, go!"

It is as soon as his brothers are out of here that you see Tom decline. He runs his hands through his hair and you're sure he can feel everything around him crumbling.

"Babe, come on, we can't stay here," You grab at his hand and start pulling him toward the door, wanting to get as far away from the scene as your mind would let you run.

And the two of you set off like there's a fire at your heels. But what really chased at your escape was much worse than any fire could muster. It was the glass eyes of your blood relation, at the cold hands of Tom's own brother.

You're sprinting down the corridor behind Tom and watch as his hands tug at the tie around his neck, throwing it's silk to the floor in an absentminded throw. The restriction in his chest was impossible to stop.

And you were running - away from a fate that was far too sickening to fathom.

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