#kick ass angst

[albertdabuttler]

Masked Adversary | D.L.

MASTERLIST

this fics masterlist

Pt. III

fandom: Kick-Ass

pairings: Dave Lizewski/Kick-Ass x F!Reader

WARNINGS: cussing, subtle mention of a wound, idk not much else i can think of 🤣

summary: You and Dave have lost a childhood friendship. The circumstances have made you grow to despise one another, until Kick-Ass has no one else to turn to but you, causing him to develop a small crush. The only problem being that you don't know it's him.

WC: 3K

gif not mine LOL!!

A/N: sorry for the delay lovelies, this part is a liiiiittle lame but i promise to give you what you want in the next. Xx

———————

You realized the next day there were a limited number of guys with those beautiful blue eyes and brown hair. Only three of them felt worth considering, for the others had voices that sounded too different or hobbies that contrasted with Kick-Ass’ obvious interests.

On your way to second hour, you noticed one of them walking down the hall as you switched books from your locker. You looked at him, hoping he would notice. He made eye contact with you for a second and smiled, but since you didn’t really know him, he kept on walking.

You thought maybe if that was him then he would have tried to avoid talking to you, for the obvious reason that he couldn’t have you knowing his identity.

You hoped it was that guy rather than any of the others. He was pretty good looking and a few girls you knew had a crush on him. Of course he was oblivious though.

“Hey Cleo.” You smiled as Cleo leaned against the locker next to yours.

“I think I’m getting a Kick-Ass fever.” She spoke. Thinking of the events of the night before, you replied. “How so?”

“I can’t stop thinking about him… And what you told me about him yesterday.”

“Right, yeah…” You chewed the tissue on the inside of your cheek, biting back a grin that dared to creep up on your face knowing you were the girl getting the action with Kick-Ass out of all his fans.

“Anything new happen with him? Did he send you anything on MySpace?” She winked, making you scoff in disgust.

“Um well…”

Cleo lit up in excitement, “What happened!?”

“He got hurt. Like real bad, and I patched him up and…”

“Please tell me what I think you’re gonna say,” She smiled, biting her bottom lip as she gripped your bicep from elation.

“I kissed him…” You smiled, she stared in utter shock but you knew she was happy for you.

“Cleo, promise me you won’t say anything because I really don’t want his fangirls to bombard me with questions only to TP my house.” You looked at her seriously.

“Of course.” She nodded sincerely.

“Was he a good kisser?” She whispered feverishly.

“Well, I could tell he didn’t have that much experience at first, and he even admitted to it, but he got the hang of it really quick.” You giggled. “And… He’s got really nice muscles.” You grinned, Cleo’s eyes widening, “Wait so—“

“He had to take his suit off for me to fix him up.”

The conversation continued as you told her in detail about what happened. You made your way to your next class, spotting Marty, Dave, and Todd walking through the crowd.

“Hey guys,” Spoke Cleo, stopping on the side of the corridor and getting their attention quickly but there was nothing you could do.

“Hi,” You greeted them as well. Dave looked gone. He had incredibly dark circles like he didn’t get any sleep. He also had a bruise forming on his left eye, and a cut on his lip.

“‘Sup.” Todd replied. Marty saluting you as well.

Dave smiled at Cleo, soon turning to you and feeling his knees weaken. He knew he couldn’t act differently, or else you would know. He knew you weren’t stupid.

“Hi.” His voice almost trembling as he swallowed, trying to avoid your gaze.

“Hey asshole.” You said chuckling.

He rolled his eyes and suddenly, he forgot that he made out with you twelve hours ago.

“What happened to your eye…?” You pointed at your own, mirroring the area in which he had the bruise.

“I got jumped again.” He said simply, looking into your eyes in an attempt to make it believable.

He wanted to look away from you, so that you wouldn’t catch on, but he just couldn’t. He noticed how your hair was getting in your face and he just wanted to push it out of the way to look at your pretty face.

Maybe he was spacing out? Probably tired from how much homework he had or something. You assumed lack of sleep from all that was why he looked so drained.

“You guys wanna get coffee at Atomic Comics later?” Cleo asked.

You shot her a look. She looked back, slightly nodding at Todd, whom she had a big crush on, but you knew he wouldn’t pick up on it. And you knew Cleo was too much of a pussy to ask him out alone.

Dave looked at you both, “We have to study for that project thing from sixth period,” pointing between you and himself.

“Right, yeah.” You sighed in annoyance.

He lowered his eyes, noticing your reaction. Okay so clearly you haven’t found out it’s him yet. Maybe if you knew it was him then you’d like him more? That being the answer he preferred, or you’d get really fucking pissed and call him things he wasn’t.

“We gotta get to class, Cleo.” You reminded her, holding onto the strap of your backpack and slowly moving towards the middle of the hall to begin your walk to second period.

"Bye," Dave spoke up, mostly to you, but his voice cracked as he realized he let it slip out.

You turned to him along with the others, the four of you looking at him strangely. His face began heating up from embarrassment so he cleared his throat, biting his lip as he pushed past you to make his way to his next class.

———————

Most of your morning was uneventful as usual, walking past Dave in the halls but it seemed like he lost his breath each time he spotted you. For the first few minutes of lunch, you and Cleo sat with Marty and Todd again, but somehow Dave hadn't joined you yet.

"Yeah, but that's because it's Superman." You heard Cleo state as you were brought back to reality.

"Are there any super heroes who's love interest doesn't like them until they reveal themselves as a super-hero?" Cleo turned to you.

"Uh, yeah I'm pretty sure there are." you answered.

Just then you spotted Dave making his way to your table, an irritated expression on his face.

"What happened to you?" Said Todd.

“The teacher made me go to the counselor's office." He motioned to his face with his index finger.

“Right. What'd she ask you about?" You spoke up as he sat down.

His eyes shot in your direction, almost like he forgot you were there. He swallowed as he answered your question. "She told me I should reach out to an adult if I'm getting mistreated at home or…being…bullied." He spoke like it was the most ridiculous story he'd ever told.

You giggled, "Well, what'd you tell her?"

"That I got jumped? Duh."

“Did you?” You questioned seriously.

He looked at you for a second, “Yeah.” He said simply, hoping you wouldn’t ask any further. Technically, he wasn’t lying. He did get jumped. But not for the sake of being robbed. They were trying to kill him.

“I’m glad you’re okay…I guess.” You admitted, earning looks from everyone else at the table.

Dave had to bite back the widest grin. “Um... Thanks.” He meant it. He obviously couldn’t tell you but you were pretty much the whole reason he was okay with how you stitched him up.

“…What?” You looked back at the other three. “If he wasn’t okay I’d have to do the project all by myself.” You said, trying to crack a joke out of it even if you were serious about him being okay.

“Anyway…” Cleo suddenly perked up, remembering what had happened with Kick-Ass.

“Oh yeah, someone over here has been getting real close with Kick-Ass these past few days.” She nudged your arm, smirking.

“Wait, really?” Marty spoke, “What’s he like, is he like avenging his parents,” he joked, earning a chuckle from Todd. Dave was oddly quiet.

“I dunno. He said he just wanted to see what it was like, I guess? And that he wanted to help people because no one else does.”

“Cute.” Said Cleo.

“Laaaame.” Spoke Marty, Todd soon agreeing with him.

“Didn’t you also kiss him?” Cleo spoke up.

You hit her arm, rolling your eyes as you were faced with having to admit.

“Dude, he's a superhero. He kisses like a ton of girls.”

He didn't know why you had lied about that but was grateful.

“Was he a good kisser?”

You didn’t understand for having to ask all this in front of the small group of boys. What you did know, was that the room got pretty hot with the position you were in.

Dave looked up at you expecting an answer as Todd and Marty watched you disinterested and kept on eating.

“Yeah.” You said.

He felt his stomach twist at your words, locking eyes with you for long enough to feel a blood rush in his face.

“Dave, what exactly did they do to your face? I mean all they had to do was put you on the ground right, not rip your face off.” You asked curiously, suddenly changing the topic.

He was at a loss for words for a minute, mouth vaguely ajar and still trying to recover from the fact you thought he was a good kisser.

“I got punched in the face like five times and I was also st—” He paused, forgetting he got stabbed and that you stitched it up. “stabbed—in the back…” He tried making it sound convincing.

“Right, got it.” You paused. “Do you wanna get a cab home together? Now I’m scared shitless to get one by myself, and you live like right next to me so… We can both avoid getting our asses robbed.” You chuckled.

“Okay…?” He he squinted, glancing at Marty and Todd which looked at him like he was out of his mind.

———————

You’d been sitting on the curb in front of the school, waiting for what had been about half an hour for Dave.

“Hey, sorry. Mr. Duaine wanted to talk with me.” Dave’s familiar voice rang out as he approached you.

“It’s okay. I called a cab a few minutes ago, should be getting here in a bit.” You answered.

Dave sat down next to you, the sun hitting both your heads with a sickening heat. But the silence was peaceful somehow, it didn’t get awkward.

“Hey, Dave?”

He turned his head to look at you, his eyes squinting from the brightness of the sun. But remembering what happened last night, he couldn't keep his gaze on you for too long.

“Hm?”

Chewing on your lip, you held out your hand to him. “Friends?”

He took a moment to look at your hand, lifting his eyes back up at you. He hesitated, and you didn’t blame him. “What?” He looked at you accusingly.

You looked back down at the concrete in front of you, trying to find whatever words you had in the back of your mind to try and explain yourself.

“I…”

You faced him, “I think I don’t hate you that much anymore.”

He let out a soft laugh, “You think?”

You threw a small pebble you found onto the street before you two. “…Sorry I cut you off like that…”

You sighed. “I miss being friends with you. You were my best friend and I shoved it up my ass because you liked a girl and hadn’t even gotten to that point of my life yet...” You paused, “I mean, starting to crush on boys…” you added. “I didn’t understand why you liked her so much when I thought we were supposed to be focused on stupid shit like comics. You grew up before me and it made me feel horrible.”

Dave only stared at you with his lips parted, like he was going to say something, but nothing slipped out. Hearing all this from you made him want to make out with you again.

“Obviously at this point I understand you, but… You didn’t have to push me away, y’know? After a while you kinda just ignored me or turned me down when I wanted to hang out.”

Dave’s heart grew heavier with your words. He never knew how much it affected you, he thought you didn’t care about the friendship you had either and that you just dropped him for no reason. Gosh he was so fucking blind.

“I’m sorry.” He said simply, gazing at the ground in front of him.

“I miss being friends with you too.” Dave finally brought his eyes to yours, giving you a soft, but guilty smile.

“I’m sorry I treated you like that. I mean, you’re the only friend I had for that long. You were also the only girl I could talk to without embarrassing myself.” He paused, turning to you and seeing your eyebrows furrowed.

“Wait—“ His eyes widened, “that—that sounds wrong—I mean, you… I—I don’t like you like that, um… I was just wanting to say that—since I could talk to you, I…” He still wasn’t getting his point across and only embarrassed himself further.

“Fuck, I… You know what I meant.“ He chuckled awkwardly.

“Yes, I get your point, Dave.” You chuckled.

“Okay, good.” he breathed, scoffing at himself but his face flushed red.

"Are you blushing?" You felt your heart skip before biting back a laugh, considering that everything he said was ridiculous. “Two years without me and you already miss me so much you get a crush on me?” You finally giggled.

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes at your laughter, “Gross.”

“You asshole!” you smacked his arm.

He let himself laugh along with you, until suddenly his mind began flooding with thoughts of how you kissed him the night before. How soft and warm your lips were, how your hands felt touching his chest, playing with his hair. How he was resisting so hard not to tell you who he was and that he knew you, not to beg you to touch him in ways he’s never been touched before.

He did think of you that way although he’d never admit it out loud.

“Whatever.” You scoffed, completely oblivious to the fact that, in reality, this boy was head over heels for you.

“Fine.” He held his hand out like you had just done for him, “Friends. I guess.” He playfully rolled his eyes and you took it with no hesitation, giving him a firm shake.

“So uh,” he began as he let go of your hand, “You and Kick-Ass.” He hid a smile.

You scoffed, “What, are you jealous?” you smirked.

“Ew.” He scorned. “The way you talked about him at lunch, thanks for giving me something to relentlessly make fun of you for. Imagine liking a guy you don’t even know.” he teased. But you could have him all you wanted. You did have him, all to yourself, unbeknownst to you.

“Shut up, Dave! It’s not like I’m in love with him. I don’t think I’d even date him...” You laughed

He took a nervous breath, like somehow you could read his mind, that he was practically lying to you and you knew.

In the current moment he wanted to kiss you like he did yesterday. So perilously. But not just kiss you, he wanted to love you. He kept watching you as your laugh died down and you smiled, looking elsewhere. A smile threatened to break upon his lips because of how pretty you looked and that beautifully contagious smile.

Dave was snapped from his thoughts as he heard a car approaching, looking in the direction of the cab as it pulled up in front of the two of you. The boy stood up first, quickly grabbing your hand to pull you up, and surprisingly, he opened the door for you. You decided to scoot all the way to the other side so that he wouldn’t have to walk around.

“Where to?”

————

Not long passed before you were dropped off at the entrance to your neighborhood.

“Thank you!” You called, Dave paying the driver what was due as she drove away.

“Thanks for getting that.” You told Dave, grateful that he had payed for you.

“Yeah…” He replied, adjusting his backpack as he turned to walk next to you. You heard a quiet wince and noticed a little grimace on his face.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m good.” He replied quickly, squirming in his place.

"You sure?" You watched him with a look of concern.

"Yeah, just a bruise from yesterday."

You only nodded, beginning to walk down the sidewalk to get home.

"So..." Dave began speaking after a moment, although the silence was comfortable, he still wanted to talk to you.

"Were you able to get any part of the project done last night?" You asked.

"I stayed up super late writing my part. What about you?"

You didn't realize that 'late' meant he was up until 2 AM because of everything that had happened.

"I started kind of early but..." You paused, remembering how Kick-Ass had gotten hurt. "Some...stuff happened and I got distracted... I only got to write like two paragraphs."

He smiled, he got you so distracted that you couldn't even finish your homework. He felt proud to be so memorable as Kick-Ass.

"What happened?" He asked this out of 'curiosity.'

"Uh my friend called and we were talking all night..." You lied.

"Oh, alright." He bit back a smile.

"What about you? Why were you up so late?"

"I was just... I had some stuff to take care of with my dad a—and we got home kind of late, so…”

“Mm.” You nodded.

As you stepped foot on your porch, you turned to salute Dave until you saw him later.

“Just come over at like seven.” You suggested, smiling and sending a small wave soon after.

“Okay, see you.” He subtly sized you up, flashing his dimpled smile before walking back to his own home.

Since when was his smile so attractive?

———————

Thank you for reading!

tagging everyone who asks for it 🤣

@lizzxoxo @kenmaisbae

[illmoraineakoi]

So, I know I'm a little (very) late to the AvA stuff, but I was rewatching AvM Season 3 for the seven hundredth time and, well, I noticed something and I'm curious to know if it's been discussed before.

AvM Episode 29, Purple's story, specifically, Pink's death.

Her color changes as she dies, or is represented to have died.

It fades to grey.

Now, the question is, can we, or rather should we, use this to infer anything lore-related? Was this just an artistic choice to depict the act of becoming unhealthy/dying, or could this be what actually happens to stick figures that die over a period of time? Are their colors linked to their health?

Let's have a bit of fun with it, and presume that the fading of one's color can happen to a stick figure for health-related reasons, as the scene could imply.

This fading seems to involve loosing the saturation of one's color into grey. Saturation is how vibrant a color is, and the complete lack of saturation is greyscale.

The World-of-Alan reason for Pink's death is that she 'got sick', which is where the health connection of this theory comes from. If she did loose her color as she was dying as the notes depict, that loss of color was likely a result of her failing health rather than any other factors, like age or outside variables. A whole bunch of human body stuff are indicators for good vs poor health, including skin color (jaundice and cyanasis are good examples) so why not a stick's color for them?

What if, when they fully die, they lose all of their original color?

Now, let me propose this…

Who else do we know of who has had their color loose vibrancy?

What if Victim's color has lightened because he's ill?

[crabsnpersimmons]

psst!

pspspspspspspspspspspspspspspsps

something is coming friday

>:)

[giddlygoat]

based on this au i made. don’t worry, i’m sure they’ll work it out

[mysticdragoni]

You were.. Everything…

[fbfh]

Do you still write for Dave Lizewski? I loved what you've written for him so far!

FUCK yes I do. Listen there's a lot I could say about Dave, but one thing that is NEVER addressed is how deeply rooted and repressed his mommy issues are. I'm sorry, your mom dies in front of you and you're just... not affected by it??? bullshit!!!!!!! Dave CRAVES a soft gentle touch, a divine feminine aura. Even if you're not a girl, if you just take care of him gently and look at him with a soft fondness he will fold SO fast. and yes having a nice rack (while not necessary) will help with this a lot. and by a nice rack I mean literally just having anything on your chest. flat tits, huge tits, lopsided tits, fake tits, real tits, literally ANYTHING. even if your tits are practically nonexistent he WILL still be trying to grope and suck on them. and he WILL succeed. nothing in this world can stop this boy from drooling over you.

after a particularly long night full of stopping some muggers, making sure the town drunk doesn't fight anyone, and helping some college girls get home safe, he shows up at your place, a little bumped and bruised but not majorly injured. you greet him with this soft, understanding smile and bring him up to your bathroom. It's all clean and soapy and smells like you, and he immediately starts to relax. you help him take off his suit and he tries not to get hard from the feeling of your warm hands getting him out of his suit and exposing his skin to the cool air. you start inspecting him to see how bad he's hurt - because of all his nerve damage he doesn't always notice how bad his injuries are.

you smooth his hair and praise him, listen to him talk about his night patrolling the neighborhood. worry flashes across across your face as you see the scratches all over his face and arms.

"Oh, uh, Mrs. Landsberg's cat got stuck..." He trails off sheepishly while you smile and put disinfectant on his nicks and scrapes.

"Look at you, helping little old ladies and rescuing cats from trees." you coo playfully.

"Well, she got stuck in the attic crawl space, but..." he shrugs with another blush, feeling all proud and sheepish from your praise.

"Close enough."

you press a kiss to his nose.

"now all you need is a job at the daily planet."

Dave was so sore and tired after tonight that he felt like he'd need days to recover. but after 10 minutes with you, you already have him laughing and feeling like himself again. Dave doesn't know what he did to luck out and have you in his life, but he thinks about you all the time. If he's not physically with you (or texting you or calling you or snapping you or lurking on your social media accounts or reading through your old texts or looking through the folder of pictures and videos he has of you saved in his phone or-) he's thinking about you all the time. he even dreams about you every night. no matter how much time he spends with you, he always wants more. Dave is definitely in the sex isn't enough I need to crawl inside your skin club.

[createandconstruct]

Toshinori and Inko finding out their pregnant a year into marriage and just sitting staring at the test like...oh. This was not exactly in the plan...nor did they even think it was possible??

They tell Izuku first of course and when they do he actually thinks they're kidding! Haha! That's actually...pretty funny, guys...uhhh...why do you both look so serious.......oh, oh shit. OH. All Might and Mom are having a kid? He's going to be a brother? In his twenties??? HUH?

Cut to nine months later and Izuku's holding his little sister, Toshinori beside him, arm around his shoulder, as Inko watches on with love and pride, because their family feels even more complete than it was before.

[blaithnne]

☆ @sketchbookweek — take 2 ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ day 3 — hurt/comfort ! ☆

Pov you’re not used to being the one getting the comfort

[the-broken-pen]

“I’ve never used a gun before,” the hero swallowed, mouth dry. They had never needed to, but now—

The villain’s head lolled over to look at them. A lazy grin spread across their face.

“Don’t worry,” they held the hero’s gaze, unflinching. “I have.”

The gun went off. Across the room, one of their enemies dropped, blood splattering against the wall.

Still, the villain didn’t break eye contact, content to shoot without looking. They hit their target every time, but still—

“Can you please look where you’re pointing that thing?”

“Why,” the villain tipped their head, and that shit eating grin was back, “Am I making you nervous, hero?”

The hero grimaced as the villain sent another target sprawling onto the floor. Surely they had to run out of ammo eventually?

When the hero didn’t respond, the villain laughed.

“Oh, I am. Well, that’s adorable, frankly.”

The hero flinched at the next gunshot, and the villain nodded their head towards the hero’s gun. “If you were to—and bear with me this is a crazy idea—help me, this would be over with way faster.”

The hero looked down to their gun, shifting it side to side in their hands. It didn’t look all that hard. Point, aim, shoot. They could do that, right?

They lifted their gun, aiming at the nearest combatant—

The villain slid to a stop next to them, tsking, and their hand settled onto the hero’s gun too quickly for them to see. “Not-no not quite like that,” they hummed in the hero’s ear, and though they couldn’t see their face, the hero knew they were amused. 

The hero’s jaw clenched with irritation.

“First,” the villain murmured, far too close, “Safety needs to be off.” They clicked something on the hero’s gun, repositioning the hero’s hands as they did. “Second,” they continued, and the hero shivered. “Don’t aim at me, love. You like me too much to kill me.”

“You’re awfully sure about that.”

The villain half rested their chin on the hero’s shoulder, batting their eyes. Their free arm jerked up, firing a shot behind them at someone who had evidently gotten too close to the two of them.

“I am,” they grinned. Their hand rested over the hero’s once more. “Now, aim,” they guided the hero’s hand towards the nearest enemy. Their finger slipped over the hero’s on the trigger. “And shoot.” They pulled down on the trigger, trapping the hero’s finger underneath theirs, so when the gun fired, they fired it together. The hero winced.

It was louder than the hero had thought it would be.

Across the room, the body dropped.

“Good,” the villain praised, voice low, and something stirred in the hero’s chest. “Again, love.”

They guided the hero through the motions once more.

By the time there was no one left to fight, the villain was staring at them with a look they couldn’t decipher. It was all encompassing. Hungry. Wild.

The hero cleared their throat, and the villain smirked like they knew what the hero was doing.

They eyed the hero, still with that look on their face.

“God, you’re pretty with a gun in your hand,” the villain cursed. They stepped closer. The hero didn’t move, holding their breath as the villain wiped a splattering of blood off their face. “Pretty covered in blood, too, but that might be a bit too insane for you, hm?”

The hero’s face went hot. It wasn’t, they thought. They wanted to kiss the villain so badly they worried it might be a sickness, twisting their mind, something terminal. But still, that smile—

The villain stepped away. They scanned the hero’s blushing face, and grinned harder at whatever they saw.

Gently, they took the gun from the hero’s hands, vanishing it behind their back.

“The next time you need someone to show you how to shoot, give me a call,” they nodded towards the hero’s hands. “I wouldn’t want someone else touching my hero, now would I?”

The hero couldn’t stop the smile that spread across their face.

The villain winked, stepped back, and was gone.

My hero.

Oh, the hero was well and truly fucked.

[fauustic]

the fear of losing this

too many people in my inbox got a little too comfortable asking me for “a fight between reader” as well as “miguel angst please” so i am combining both as i struggle to get through this writer’s block ))

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

angst. little comfort. your universe is falling apart, yet miguel doesn’t want to let you go.

warnings: pure angst. light cursing? i’m not too sure, just lots of tears.

word count: 2211

The night sky of Nueva York shined brightly with the bustle of commute, highly advanced cars whirring softly through the clouds. Your mask hung from your hands at your side, bunched up in the anger that fizzed and popped in your bloodstream– threatening to explode at any given moment as Miguel brushed off your conversation with a stoic chill.

“You don’t understand how important this is to me Miguel–” your voice raised as you paced the highest level of the building, padding against the overly complex structures that mimicked webs. You would have laughed at the irony of having a headquarters so invested in the theme of spiders that even the ground you walk on replicated the symmetry of webs if the both of you were in any other given situation– but that joking persona that came with the gig flew and crashed out the window the moment Miguel brushed off and rejected your plans to return back home. “I need to be there, helping my people. What is the point of me taking up a spot in this ‘fateful–’” You dragged out the words, venom dripping from your tongue as you partially made fun of the organization he spent so much time on. “Spider Society if my own boss doesn’t let me return back to the place I belong in?”

“No, no.” His tone was blunt as he stood as rigid as ever; surveying your every move in a way that you could never guess what he was thinking, with or without the mask. “You don’t understand.” Miguel repeated your own words back to you in a taunt as one of his clawed hands fidgeted with the device that decided whether or not you could walk around or stay in a little bubble for the next week just like all the other prisoners were down below. “You created a problem in your own universe, that’s the problem we’re having here. You cannot fix it.” He practically spat his words, anger emitting from every rhythmic clang whenever he tossed the technology into the air and caught it with calculation. “It doesn’t matter whether or not you’re from that Earth, you put that place you so valiantly ‘protect’ into a state of emergency. Is that not clear enough?”

“Oh, sure– but the hundreds of other spider-people that can’t go one word without making a joke of the situation can fix my mess? Am I just some inexperienced rookie to you, Miguel?” You countered, ripping your gaze from his own. His features were exposed to you as his mask was off as well, the sunken circles beneath his eyes growing prominent when a vibrant car passed by and shone a striking yellow light into the corridor the two of you stood within. His usual expression made of stone chipped away with the stress he was under as a deeper frown made its way onto his lips.

Miguel sighed dramatically before pinching the bridge of his nose, turning away from you to mumble a jumble of incoherency. “God,” He repeats your name like it's a curse, “That’s not what I’m saying at all. It’s just not safe.”

You scoffed, eyes growing wide at the audacity of this man you have to call your boss. “Of course it’s not safe Miguel, that’s our job.” You couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief, pulling at the roots of your hair in any attempt to calm yourself down. “I risked my life every single day in my universe before I even knew of your existence, yet now suddenly I can’t?”

“This is different. For some reason these– these anomalies are running rampant in your world and it’s taking everything to finally have the problem at hand contained.” Miguel held his breath as if he had something more to say, but left it unsaid the moment you stomped closer towards him in a new fit of anger.

You shoved your palm against his chest, baring your teeth as a groan erupted from the back of your throat in a concoction of frustration and despair. “Exactly! That’s exactly the problem, Miguel. My people out there are suffering and fighting for their lives, surrounded by these people that are like me but aren’t me.” Tears began to well up in the corners of your pained gaze, humiliation washing over your consciousness as you sniffled and stifled a sob. Fauxe confidence and quips were something you specialized in, annoying Miguel in a little dynamic the two of you found yourself in as months turned into an entire year of being called in for missions. Emotions were never a thing the both of you have ever discussed with one another because it wasn’t your position to pry and he was never the one to initiate such conversation.

“If you just let me go, I’m more than willing to show you how capable I am.” It came out as a whisper as you turned away from him and began padding down the structural webs. Miguel was on high alert, you could notice as every glance felt as if he was trying to convince himself that no other member of his society occupied this part of Headquarters. He followed you close behind, claws digging into the beams of construction to reach the same floor as you without a word. The brooding silence that usually met your company could be sensed from any person in their right mind, and as you spotted the hesitation in each thud of his footfalls– confusion clouded your anger. So in a flurry of adrenaline, you webbed his next step to the ground with a ball of the substance you artificially produced in the depths of your makeshift and cozy lab, hidden away at your home in the world you desperately needed to save. It would give you time to finally just talk to him.

“¿Eres estúpido o qué? Do that again and I’m putting you in the–”

It wasn’t to hold him down, you know you couldn’t match his strength. It was to make a statement. 

You interrupted him, a newfound determination holding onto the little hope you had. “You follow me for one more second, I’m going through that portal and never looking back.” Brutally honest and uncharacteristically serious, the attempt at ripping his limb free was cut cold at the promise looming in the air. His frown fell for just a moment’s notice, mouth agape in shocked horror before quickly recovering himself. Repeating yourself more clearly as his attention was occupied, your body shined away while shaky fingers struggled to input the coordinates of your universe. But eventually it clicked, the AI voice of Miguel’s beloved Lyla sounded throughout the tension in a glitchy mess– notifying Miguel of the portal to-be seconds before it truly distorted the fabrication of reality in front of you.

Miguel dropped to his knees, struggling to claw off the web that had his foot planted to the structure. His breath quickened concerningly, shoulders heaving as the plan of his crumbled in front of him in an instant; all because he was not observant enough. You played him like an instrument like you always had, a pained groan from the back of his throat sounded and echoed throughout the space of the vast headquarters. “No, no, no..” He repeated, mirroring the despair you had on your features moments ago at the idea of not being able to save your people. You could never once recollect a fraction of a second where he allowed himself to convey the pain plaguing his mind, and as he reached out to you in a frantic heap of limbs– the walls of protection he hazardously built around himself came crumbling down by each shape contorting and twisting into a gateway to your world. “I can’t, I can’t lose anybody else–”

You stood there, heart breaking as the man who has had villains three times your size on their knees, collapse into fragments of himself at the mere idea of you leaving the security of his universe. Bursts of color painted the dark hues blotching upon white, igniting his fresh-tear stained cheeks in splashes of reds and yellows and greens. The portal was completely open, awaiting your entrance to return back to your familiarity– yet your senses buzzed alarmingly at each step away from Miguel. It’s almost as if you could feel the hole in his chest, searing away his soul he finally allowed himself to offer like a god’s offering.

You fell to your knees to hold his face in your suited hands, the waves of sorrow and grief infesting your mind like a sickness almost had you doubling over in pain. You could hear the cries of hundreds around his, no– your own heavy breathing, a confused and fearful little girl’s pleas for help overlapping the muddled screams. You felt the weight of a child in your hands before it was ripped away like a paper airplane in the wind, and soon your trembling hands met the purchase of his nape. Your body moved automatically, holding his face in the comfort of your lap while you shielded his gaze from the portal. Despite his power, the capability to snap you in two, you held him like a fragile doll that would break within any mishap.

“All this time, you never told me.” You sobbed into his hair, dampening his combed back curls with your tears and he only held your waist like you were the anchor in this unforgiving ocean of anguish. You have become one, the memories of his own mixing into the blur of yours's.

“I didn’t know how to.” He murmured into the purchase of your thigh, wetness seeping into your suit. But you didn’t care as your hands wandered all over his figure: a soft massage to the shoulders before quickly scooping his neck into your arms before finally settling on petting his hair back. “I, I haven’t allowed you to go to your world because a part of my thoughts can imagine your arms fading into a technicolor mess, falling into the clutches of another failed universe.” He forced himself to take a deep breath, gulping up air as the portal behind the both of you fizzled and popped.

“I can’t lose you too. I’d be so–” He hesitated, breathing in deeply just to choke on a sob. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He poured out the burdens weighing on his conscience, confirming your long-forgotten wonder that he was just as emotional when he was faced with his grief head-on; the same intensity seen in his short-tempered anger.

You simply hushed him, cooing reassurance that he accepted with greed. “Nothing is going to happen to me.” The rational fear being expressed aloud made your shoulders shake and head buzz with anxiety, but you steeled yourself at the reminder of Miguel melting into your tearful embrace like putty. You needed to be strong for him when he wasn’t, just like how he pushed himself to the greatest extent his body can endure all the times before. 

“It’s just, I can’t lose where I come from.” You worked at ridding his foot from your webs as your serene tone accompanied his sniffles, his breathing settling out bit by bit as you continued to finally explain yourself. In regards to Miguel's quietness, you genuinely thought he was listening. “You can’t keep me away and shield me from my own mistakes, O’Hara. It’s just not possible, I need a home to thrive and protect. Without my people, I’m going to disappear as well.” A snap of your webs trapping his limbs finished your little speech, indicating that time was up and you had a job to do.

“I’m.. worried.” He mumbles aloud, like the sentence itself was foreign on his tongue. “These creatures from foreign worlds, they are drawn to your universe as if there’s a pulling force. I haven’t been able to figure it out. It’s so infuriating, it’s like I can’t do–”

You intercept his little tangent as you grab his chin and lift his gaze to meet yours’, an unsaid question hanging into the atmosphere like an old letter to a former self. Do you want this? Is this okay? I’m scared of messing this up.

The question is answered as Miguel’s grasp finds purchase in your flesh, claws digging into your thighs like if he let you go you’d fade along with everything else of his. In a messy, salty clash of teeth against fangs and tongue against lips, Miguel lapped up every inch of your mouth like he had to memorize every crevice of your entire being. It’s as if the two of you have synchronized, being able to suspect slight changes in each other’s mood as he grew more needy with the introduction of desire bubbling against the forefront of your mind.

“We can do this.” You murmured into his cheek, hands dancing over his suit in case this was the last time you’d ever be blessed with his presence again.

Miguel nodded, heaving for breath before he snatched one last kiss– sincere and genuine and full of unfiltered affection. “Yeah,” His nose met the crook of your neck, grazing each curve it stumbled upon.

“Together, mi alma.”

[ikkyfics]

Ahhh you write for Dave Lizewski🥹.. I wanted to request maybe something angsty? Like Reader is helping him with all the saving stuff and some criminal sees her and targets her and she gets hurt? The rest is up to you (if you want it to end good or not)!

I also wanted to say I LOVE LOVE LOVE your works :D

Recklessness

Dave Lizewski x fem!reader

Summary: “So we’re both crazy, Dave,” you replied, resting your head on his shoulder as you walked out of the alley. “I think that’s what makes us work.”

Warnings: violence, mild distress

A/N: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw, thank you so much, you're so sweet, seriously. I think it's kind of impossible to make a tragic ending for Dave - like, I've been in love with him for about 9 years. I'm sorry if I deviated a little from the request, but I hope you like it

Masterlist

You were on your way home when the sound of a fight caught your attention. The narrow, dimly lit alley looked like the scene of a confrontation you would recognize anywhere. Even from a distance, the awkward figure in green and yellow uniform was unmistakable: Dave. Or rather, Kick-Ass. Your heart raced, a mix of fear and adrenaline taking over as you tried to analyze the scene. Dave was facing someone much bigger, a muscular man holding a piece of metal pipe, advancing with a fury that seemed uncontrollable. Dave, with his typical fearless (and somewhat reckless) style, was doing his best to dodge the blows, but he was clearly at a disadvantage.

Without thinking, you ran toward the alley. “Dave!” you called - without even realizing that he had used his real name -, your voice coming out louder than you intended. He turned his face toward you for a second, just enough for the criminal to notice your presence. The man stopped and gave a cruel grin, his yellow teeth shining in the darkness. “Who’s this? Brought backup, huh?” he mocked, his eyes assessing you like a predator who had just found easier prey.

“Get out of here, now!” Dave shouted at you, his voice alarmed, almost desperate. But it was too late. The man moved with surprising speed, completely ignoring Dave and advancing toward you. You instinctively backed up, but the alley was too narrow, and your steps found the cold, damp wall. “Stay away from her!” Dave shouted again, running to intercept him.

The criminal turned at the last second, dodging Dave with a blow that made him stumble to the side. It was enough for you to make a decision you knew Dave would never approve of. Before the man could attack him again, you shouted, “Hey! I’m right here!” Your voice trembled a little, but it was loud enough to get his attention. The criminal laughed, satisfied with the distraction, and turned to you.

Everything happened too quickly. You tried to run, but the man was faster, grabbing your arm with force. The pain was immediate, radiating from the point of contact, but before you could react, he slammed you to the ground. Dave screamed your name, and within seconds, he was on top of the man, punching him with all the strength he could muster. The criminal tried to retaliate, but Dave seemed driven by something stronger than pain or fear: anger. Anger at seeing you hurt, for involving you in this world.

When the man finally fell unconscious, Dave rushed to you, kneeling at your side. “Are you okay? Please, talk to me!” His voice was shaky, his eyes wide with panic as he checked your injured arm. You tried to smile, despite the throbbing pain. “I… I just wanted to help.”

“Not like this!” he said, his voice nearly breaking as he held your face in his hands. “You can’t do this, you can’t put yourself in danger like this. I… I wouldn’t be able to lose you.”

Dave was still breathing heavily, his fists clenched as he watched the unconscious man in front of him. He seemed frozen, as if he couldn’t take his eyes off the body lying on the ground, fearing it would rise again. “Dave,” you called, your voice weak, but enough to break his trance. He immediately turned his gaze toward you, and the guilt reflected in his eyes was overwhelming.

“I told you to go,” he began, kneeling beside you once again. The concern in his movements was palpable, his hands trembling slightly as he helped you sit up slowly. “You’re hurt. Let me see.” He seemed to be trying to stay calm, but his tone betrayed the growing panic.

“I’m fine, it’s just… the shock,” you tried to downplay, though the pain in your arm and the dizziness were hard to ignore. You saw his gaze fall on the mark the criminal had left on your arm, his fingers brushing the area with almost reverent care.

“This isn’t just a shock,” he murmured, more to himself than to you, before shaking his head and letting out a heavy sigh. “I shouldn’t have let you get involved in this. I should have protected you.”

“I knew the risk, Dave,” you replied, your voice soft but firm. “You need to understand that… I can’t just stand by while you’re in danger. I can’t.” Your gaze met his, and you saw how he was struggling to hold back tears. “You’d do the same for me.”

“Of course I would!” he exclaimed, the intensity of his voice echoing in the alley. “But it’s not the same. You… you shouldn’t be here, not like this.” He ran his hands through his hair, messing it up even more. “I… I’m not the hero everyone thinks I am, okay? I mess up, and… if something had happened to you, I…” His voice faltered, and he took a deep breath before continuing. “I would never forgive myself.”

Your heart tightened at his words, but you knew he needed to hear the truth. “You are a hero, Dave. Even if you’re not perfect, even if things go wrong sometimes. That’s why I didn’t hesitate to come. Because you matter to me, more than anything.” Your voice was steady, but your eyes glistened with tears you were trying to hold back. “If you think you can keep me safe by keeping me away, then you don’t understand how I feel.”

He fell silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on you as if trying to absorb every word. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, lowering his head. “I get it. I just… don’t know what to do with it. I love you, and that scares the hell out of me, you know? Because every time you step into this world, it feels like I’m gambling with the most important person in my life.” His voice broke, and he closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. “But I get it. Just… promise me we’ll be more careful, okay? That you won’t throw yourself in front of another big guy to save me.”

You laughed softly, despite the pain, and nodded. “I promise. But only if you promise the same. No more unnecessary risks.”

“Deal,” he replied, a small smile appearing on his face. He helped you up carefully, draping his arm around your waist to support you. “Now, let’s get home. I need to take care of you. And maybe… rethink the way I do all this.” He paused, looking at the fallen criminal before turning his gaze back to you. “But first of all… thank you for coming. Even though I still think you’re kind of crazy for it.”

“So we’re both crazy, Dave,” you replied, resting your head on his shoulder as you walked out of the alley. “I think that’s what makes us work.”

[albertdabuttler]

Masked Adversary Masterlist

MAIN MASTERLIST

I think this will have like six or seven parts? Maybe more but we’ll see!

A/N: Dave and reader are seniors! (for more than obvious reasons, you are both 18. including his friends and my OC.) everything that took place in the first movie takes place in his 12th year.

I'd also like to introduce my OC, Cleo! She is an African-American female with an incredibly thick NY accent and is the readers best friend since freshman year! (i based her personality off my younger down bad self)

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V (soon)

[lanaswritingbook]

I can’t tell you 2/2

oh wow guys this is embarrassing… I’ve been in a bad writing block for like months now. And I felt really bad for not finishing this part 2 bc I hate when ppl do that to me so I hope you enjoy 😭 (it’s rushed but i’m trying to get started again)

Dave Lizewski x Black!Plus Size Reader

Pt. 1- https://www.tumblr.com/spenceswife/712542712672452608/i-cant-tell-you-12

-

The gym door slammed loudly as Dave watched Yn storm out the gymnasium.

His chest tightened as he thought over their conversation. How could she think he was cheating?

But could he blame her? The scene was… misleading.

Dave shook his head while combing through his curly hair anxiously. He had to make it right.

-

It had been 3 days since Yn spoke to Dave. He texted her everyday and tried to get her attention in school but she constantly blew him off like he did to her previously.

His friends wondered why they didn’t see the touchy couple together anymore so they decided to confront Dave and the comic shop.

When the bell rang hinting someone entered Dave found his group at their normal table arguing about something.

“Hey guys” Dave spoke swinging his backpack in the booth.

“You look like shit.” Marty spoke making Todd slap his chest.

“Wrong approach but he’s right. What’s wrong with you dude” Todd crossed his arms ready to listen.

“Yn thinks I cheated on her…” they both look at each other surprised.

“Well did you?” Marty asked in shock

“Hell no! I love her with all my heart I could never. It was really a misunderstanding I just can’t say what.” he took a breathy sigh clearly in distress.

“I mean I believe you dude, but that’s some sketchy shit. I don’t know she’ll forgive you.” Todd furrowed his brows.

“How about this you know Jessica?” Marty raised his brows with a smirk

“Yeah why…” Dave asked more confused

“Well she’s at Yn studying and gonna meet me here in about 30. So how about you trap your girl and apologize the right way.” Lizewski stared his friend down thinking of the idea.

“… I have nothing else to choose from so fine. Wish me luck” He grabbed his bag standing up accidentally bumping into a counter while walking towards the door.

-

Dave snuck through her window, luckily she had a fire escape so it was easy for him to enter.

She wasn’t in her room but her bathroom light was on meaning she was still home.

He passed shortly back n forth thinking about what he wanted to say until he heard a voice breaking through.

“Why are you here Dave?” Yn walked towards her bed sitting not even looking him in the eye.

But Dave couldn’t help but stare he missed seeing her like this. Comfy.

She was wearing a long shirt and shorts with her curls going every direction. She looked perfect to him

“Look please listen to me. I would never hurt you and that includes never cheating. I love you so much and I would love to tell the reason of what you heard, but I just can’t right now it’s too dangerous. I’ll tell you eventually but I just have to figure this out first I promise i’d never hurt you intentionally baby please…” Yn saw the glint in Dave’s eye that he was telling the truth.

And she didn’t see the nervous tic he does when he lies so she caved and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He closed his eyes thanking the angles above for giving his own back.

“You’d never hurt me?” Yn whispered playing with his loose curls as her face was stuck between his neck and shoulder.

“Never in my life, you’re the one I protect the most. Literally…” her face scrunched at the last part but quickly forgot about it as she was happy he was in her presence.

[catmad57]

OMG among ALL Blink Gone outcomes I didn’t expect to get THIS one can’t believe you Vivimeng😭😭

[darling-heffron]

Sorry all my wifi had been acting up and then I got busy doing other things, then poof, Saturday came and went! So sorry this is late but I hope the chapter makes up for it. Also I got my nails done and didn't think of the implications to my typing lmao! ✨

Taglist: @mellow-human , @malarkgirlypop , @next-autopsy

Chapter Seven: And then there were Two

Sam’s POV: 

Walking was the easy part of Sam’s journey, the hard part was avoiding everyone else. Especially the humans, she didn’t need to meet anymore people like the family she had only buried days ago. 

There could be no guilt clouding her thoughts during these times, she needed to be focussed not sentimental. The last thing she needed was a friend. 

Her army comrades often called Sam the lone wolf of the pack, often adjacent from the other troops who were bonding and making lasting friendships. Sam enjoyed her solitude and didn’t have the patience for stupid people, she had other activities that filled her boredom. 

Fighting mainly, as it was a good way to release her stress. She often found that after having a rough day, letting out her pent up emotions on the punching bag felt good. Sam never felt the need to vent to her “friends”, her fists did all the talking she needed.  

If she didn’t feel like fighting, books had the same effect as talking to people. Except she didn’t have to say anything back to them. She didn’t enjoy fictional novels about romance and friendship and adventure. The blonde preferred the cold hard facts of history, she would learn from everyone else's mistakes and not make them herself. 

Unfortunately sometimes Sam would have to deal with people during her job. On her tours in Afghanistan she was paired with the most annoying girl in the squad. 

A lucky dip that was not so lucky. 

Her partner drove her mad almost every single day, trying to befriend the tall woman. Sam was not having it, she didn’t need nor want a friend. The soldier was a petite brunette that was only a couple of years younger, but for some reason she was always so happy. Always a pep to her step and a song in her heart, the girl was joyful on crack. 

Even in her demise she still somehow had a smile on her face and was optimistic about her doomed fate. 

The girl, Abby, had died only days before they were set to depart back home. She had offered to do the final sweep of the night for Sam, which she had been scheduled to complete. On her route back she had misstepped, accidentally setting off an IED that in turn took her life not hours later. 

Lying on the street with her limbs scattered about, she bled out slowly and painfully. But still the young girl managed to smile and laugh, making a joke. Abby had laid in Sam’s lap as she lost her blood and quickly turned cold. The last thing she had said was, “I’m glad it was me and not you.” 

Abby had died later that night in hospital from her wounds. Her death still haunted the angry blonde. 

Her depressing thoughts were interrupted by boisterous noise. Sam looked up with disgust etched into her face. These were the stupid fuckers she was talking about. 

Even from a distance she could see their unkempt oily hair and dirty clothes. They smiled at each other while they joked, some misogynistic comment falling from the shorter ones mouth as the other two chortled together. 

“Ugh, gross.” She muttered out loud. Sam didn’t enjoy people, but men were her least favourite. It may have been her army upbringing but all the men she knew were cunts, especially her father who seemed to be the worst one of all. 

The only reason there were other people here was because she had made it to Albany. Walking all day for two days she had made good time from Pittsfield. But even though the city offered food and other resources, it attracted everything else along with it. Just like the group of men who stood only 50 feet away, laughing amongst themselves. 

Somehow luck didn’t seem to be in favour of the young woman; she accidentally kicked an empty can across the street as she tried to evade the group. 

“Fuck me.” Sam cursed under her breath. She watched the men swivel their heads around to investigate the noise. Sam ducked quickly trying to hide behind the abandoned car she was standing near but she knew she had been spotted. 

“Hey pretty lady!” One of the men cooed. Sam rolled her eyes so hard she was concerned they were going to get stuck in the back of her head. 

“We see you blondie, come out!” The other greasy man joined in. 

Sam silently screamed in her head, she was not in the mood for people. Drawing in a deep breath she stood. She cracked her neck as she walked out from behind the vehicle. 

The men started to walk briskly towards her. Her fingers flexed at her side, itching to latch around the weapon on her hip. But she stood still, a relaxed posture and bitchy face, well her normal face but still, she looked menacing. 

“Quite a scowl you got blondie.” The tallest man of the group smirked at her. 

Her face didn’t change even with the comment. Sam didn’t speak, she didn’t want to seem like she was trying to make excuses. Plus men dug themselves into deeper holes in silence than in conversation. She would bait them. 

“Not much of a talker.” The short thinning haired man stepped closer, even though he was still a good foot away she could smell him from here. 

“Yeah but she is a looker, hey Jeremy.” The snivelly looking man egged on the tall one, Jeremy, elbowing him in the side.  

“You sure are pretty.” Jeremy licked his lips. Sam’s disgust was audible at the action. 

The young woman flicked her eyes around the group. They didn’t seem to be all that well equipped, noting the baseball bat the short chubby man held, and the grimey machete on the rodent looking man’s belt. Jeremy seemed to be the only one with a gun, tucked into the front of his waistband. Sam scoffed that was only good for one thing, getting his dick shot off.   

“I think she’s scared of us.” Weasel man continued. He looked like the fucking jester of the group, though he didn’t seem all that funny. 

“You don’t have to be afraid, we’re really nice.” The chubby man had the audacity to reach out to try and touch Sam’s arm. 

Her reflexes were faster. Sam’s hand shot out from her side and gripped the man’s limb like a vice. 

That set the group on edge, the other two sprung back, hands clasping around their own weapons. 

“I’m not afraid of you horrible fuck-eyed wank cloths.” Sam growled, squeezing the man's hand even harder. He let out a whimper of pain and tried to wiggle free, but Sam’s hold didn’t budge. 

“Leave me the fuck alone, before I rip of every single one of your ballsacks off and feed it to the rabid motherfuckers while you watch.” The man guffawed at her statement, her words were clearly not enough for the men, she would have to show them. 

“Oh you need proof. Well baldly, how many fingers you want broken?” Sam sneered at the man, his face bright red with rage and pain. 

“Now you’re quiet?” Sam wrenched the thinned haired man’s finger backwards extending them towards his back. “That means I get to choose.” She whispered before completely twisting the chubby man’s hand completely backwards until there was a satisfying crunch. 

Baldy howled in pain as he clutched at his now broken wrist. It hung limply from the joint, the men who had watched the whole interaction, now began to rile up. 

“What the fuck is your problem blondie?” Jesterville Jones piped up, his buck teeth exposed as he hopped around like the rabbit he was.     

“I chose wrist.” Sam shrugged, seemed like he wasn’t paying attention, or was an idiot. Most likely an idiot. 

“We didn’t do anything to you.” Jeremy whined as if his mum had just taken away his PS5 privileges. 

“You approached me, that was your first mistake. Then you called me blondie, you half chewed pencil looking fuck. And this literal easy bake oven tried to touch me. So if I counted correctly, which he can’t.” Sam pointed to weasel face. “That would make three things you did to me.” 

“Now do you all want limp wrists, you slimy turd canoes?” Sam threatened the gaggle of fucking morons. “Or would you like to leave with the little dignity you have still intact?” 

As soon as she finished her sentence the men fled. Tails between their legs like the small chihuahuas they were.  

Mars POV: 

Getting to Albany was simple. Marleen packed up and left as the sun was rising, unwilling to be near that house any longer. She followed along the highway, using road signs as her guide. 

The houses began getting closer together until she found herself at the city's edge. The closer she got the more her nerves started to scramble. Mars spotted several small groups and lone rabids and did everything she could to avoid them, turning a three hour journey into five. 

Marleen had never been to Albany before, but she could imagine what it was like; the roads bustling with vehicles, people everywhere, everything teaming with life. 

And now, it was barren. Abandoned. 

If she had to guess she would say there were live humans in this vast city somewhere but nowhere that she could see. 

That could be a good thing though. At least that’s what Denver always said. And just like that she was tearing up once again- how many tears did she have left? Surely her eyes would run dry at some point? 

Shaking her head, Mars headed into the eerie ghost town. 

She didn’t get very far before noticing undead stumbling in her direction. Shit. There were too many for her to stay and fight, she had no choice but to flee. They hadn’t seen her yet, giving her the advantage of stealth. 

As quietly as she could, Mars turned and treaded down a side street, off the main road and out of the zombies' sight. 

This repeated a few times; Marleen would come across a number of rabids and sneak away unseen onto a new path, slowly making her way through the maze of a city. 

Her luck was seemingly up. Avoiding certain death had never been easier for the young blonde.  

Until it wasn’t.

Mars rounded a corner, making her way down a narrow road- a glorified alleyway. And she did so without checking to see if the way was clear, her first mistake. 

Her second mistake was immediately dropping her only weapon the instant she bumped into something. 

Marleen had walked straight into a solid body and squealed. It took her a moment to realise that whatever she had walked into could be a human; like her or an undead and she had yet to find out which.

Her yelp was mixed with a low voice, arms wrapped around her body and held her close, it felt all too familiar. Mars cried out and struggled against the unknown person until she heard a distinct voice- the undead can't speak.  

Her head flicked upwards, revealing her captor as a living. In fact, there were three living men standing in front of her. 

All caution was thrown to the wind, she hadn’t seen real people since she and Denver had been separated two nights prior, and she found she was missing the social interaction. Being able to talk to someone who was capable of talking back, who didn’t have blood covering every inch of them- that was priceless to Mars. 

“Hey, shhh, It's okay.” The man holding on to her spoke, his grasp on her had stabilised the both of them, keeping the pair upright. Now that they were in no danger of falling, he released his grip on her and held up his hands in mock surrender.

From where she stood, she had a second to give them a once over and take in their appearances. They looked like they’d been through hell. Dirty and greasy and covered in filth. 

Something that stuck out to her was the shortest one favoured his left hand, like it was hurt. She would bring that up at some point, make sure chubby hadn't been bitten by a rabid.

She had two voices telling her two very different things right now and wasn’t sure what to do. 

One said: Absolutely do not trust these guys, turn and leave right now, you don’t know these strangers.

While the other said: Maybe they could help you? It’s tough being out here all alone, having friends is never a bad thing. Talk to them, ask if they can help you get to Illinois. 

“Uh-Hello?” Was the greeting she settled on, this seemed to please them as all three grinned at her. It should have been a good sign, the smiles; but for some reason it unnerved her. 

“Hello beautiful.” The tallest man, her ‘saviour’ spoke out, “you out here all alone?” Mars nodded slowly, still not totally convinced she could trust these guys. 

“Well what would a pretty girl like you be doing out here all by herself?” One of the others spoke up, he had buck teeth that resembled a mouse or a rat. All three men still smiled at her waiting for her answer. 

“I-I’m trying to get to Illinois.”

“Illinois, eh?” The rat man echoed the words as he stepped closer to her, “We can help ya get to Illinois.” 

“You can?” Mars felt a smile creep onto her face. She held hope that these men would be kind and helpful, regardless of their appearance. Don't judge a book by its cover and all that.

“Sure.” The tallest, who seemed to be their leader, smirked. 

“Yeah, we can help you.” Rat-man laughed as he nudged his friend's arm with his elbow, like they were sharing a joke- one that Mars was not privy to. 

It was then that Mars noticed the machete in the rat's grip, that paired with her dropped knife gave her chills- goosebumps rippled over her body. 

“You just have to do a little something for us first….” His voice gave Mars the heebie jeebies and she began to rethink her openness to the trio- maybe she should have been more skeptical of the strangers. 

“Scratch our backs, we scratch yours, blondie.” Rat-man reached out his hand and stroked Marleen’s cheek, her body instinctively flinched back, trying to get out of his reach.

“Really?” A louder voice sounded from behind the group of men. The trio seemed to recognise the person who had spoken, stilling in their actions and slowly turning. 

Between the gap of the men, Mars could see a tall, lean woman with a menacing stance. Her glare made the men shiver and Marleen found that she too was intimidated by this lady. 

Sam’s POV: 

Sam had tried her best to avoid the group after they had retreated. She continued on her search for food and water, but unfortunately before rounding a corner she had heard the slimy idiots talking amongst themselves. 

However what piqued her interest was a soft feminine voice that spoke back. Sam had stepped into the alley just as weasel face had said, “Scratch our backs, we scratch yours, blondie.” 

That pissed off the tall woman. For one, they had gone from one woman to the next, and secondly they didn’t even have the creativity to think of any better lines. 

“Wow! I thought you guys were fucking stupid, but this just really proves my point!” Sam gave her best cheerful sarcastic tone. 

“You seriously can’t think of any better material than Blondie?” She peered over their shoulders, finding a young petite woman backed into a corner by the group. The woman’s face said it all, please help me.  

A sigh left Sam’s lips, she was not in the mood for playing hero, but also the young girl, not even woman, looked so helpless it felt like a crime to leave. 

She cast her glare towards michelin man, who cowered under her hateful stare. He didn’t give her a second glance before darting off and ditching his so-called friends. 

“Dylan what the fuck dude!” Jeremy called out after fatso. Damn she had never seen someone of that girth run so fast. 

“Roly-poly has the right idea. Why don’t the rest of you scram and leave Bambi alone.” Sam looked over to the young lady, aptly named for her big doe eyes and deer in the headlights stare. 

“We aren’t scared of you, blondie.” Jeremy snarled. 

“Which one are you talking to, cause remember we are both ‘Blondie’ according to you.” Sam pointed out that the one name that had given each of the girls now didn’t work in the situation. 

“I’m talking to you-” He paused for a moment, pointing in her direction. “Angry blondie.” 

“Look at you using adjectives. Kind of embarrassing it took you that long to think of one, and angry at that.” Sam grimaced at the fucking idiot sandwich stood before her. 

“Can we be done now, I’m so fucking bored of this conversation?” Sam glanced down at her watch, she literally had better things to be doing than standing here wasting her breath on these white-trash shart hounds. 

“Well- uh- you.” The weasel man stuttered over his words. 

“You-uh-uh-um.” Sam mocked them. “Spit it out, speech impediment.”

“Right, that's it!” Inflatable balloon man bellowed in the least intimidating voice he could manage. In a quick motion he whipped out his gun from the front of his pants. Sam shied away worried he was going to whip out something else at the same time. 

“I don’t need to see all that.” Sam gestured to the man’s crotch. The young woman during the chaos, had bent down and grabbed the knife that had laid on the floor just in front of her. Sam watched her stand again, clutching the weapon to her chest. 

Jeremy surged forward with his gun, he flailed it around, it seemed as if he was unsure if he wanted to shoot Sam or hit her with it. It didn’t matter, the tall woman had disarmed him in seconds. 

Now she had the man by his neck and his gun in her grasp. Jeremy was pinned to her chest as he stared out at his mate who looked shocked but was still fixed in his position, not helping his buddy. 

Sam pressed the barrel of the man’s gun to his temple. Everyone froze, collectively holding their breaths. Weasel man’s face had drained of blood and he looked sickly pale. Bambi continued to wear her brown doe eyed stare, her mouth hanging slightly agape, Sam was unsure if this was due to shock or awe. 

“Alright lady!” Rodent man held out his hands showing his surrender. “We’ll leave you alone, just let us go!” The man pleaded. 

“Yeah just let us leave.” Jeremy sobbed like a young child who had lost their mummy in the supermarket. 

Sam brought the butt of the gun down hard into the side of Jeremy’s head, the man yelped out in pain as she pushed him away from her and he stumbled to the floor. Rodent man collected his friend from the floor, and urged him to leave. 

“My gun.” Jeremy held out his hand for his weapon. 

“It’s mine now. Fuck off.” Sam dismissed the command. She watched in amusement as the pair fled together, moving so fast they were falling over each other in panic. 

Turning on her heel she walked the way she had come from back out onto the street. 

Mars POV:

“Wait!” Marleen called out to her retreating saviour, “where are you going?” Her feet began following the mysterious woman- who completely ignored her. Her pace quickened, only slowing when she came side by side with the fiery lady. 

“Hey! I asked where you’re going.” Her statement came out whiny and she reached for the other woman's forearm. The moment her fingertips touched their target, the stranger sprung into action. She halted her steps and raised a closed fist so quickly that Mars barely had time to register what was happening.

“Woah-wait wait wait- it’s me! It’s me!” The shorter woman released her grip and raised her hands to cover her face, dropping her knife yet again. 

It clattered to the floor as both women watched.

“Who?”

“Me, it’s me?” Mars peered up at the taller blonde, her voice squeaked out from her defensive position, “From just now… you know, with those guys- Bambi! I’m Bambi…remember?” 

Recognition crosses over her face, “Oh. Right.” The woman lowered her fist, “You dropped your knife.” Her parting words as she turned swiftly and continued in the same direction. 

Mars huffed, bending over to pick up the weapon and then straightening to run after the other blonde. 

“You didn't answer my question.” Her words were spoken in between breaths, “Where are we going?” 

That seemed to gain the attention of her ruthless heroine, making her freeze in place once more. 

“We?” Her eyebrows raised in surprise, “WE aren’t going anywhere.” She gestured between the two of them with her finger. 

“But,” Marleen’s face scrunched in confusion, her bottom lip stuck out in a pout, “You just saved me?” 

“And?” 

Mars had no reply. It seemed logical to her that they buddy up, everyone needs friends and Mars could surely use someone as capable as her. 

The lean girl, hearing no reply from the smaller party continued on her journey. Once again, leaving ‘Bambi’ behind. 

And just like before, Mars chased after her, this time calling out “Can’t I come with you? I’ll be so quiet you won’t even know I’m there!” 

“No, I don’t pick up stragglers.” The woman’s husky voice sounded as she kept walking away from the young girl. 

“So why did you save me? Why not just let me die?” Marleen argued, genuinely curious. 

“I-”

“So you clearly have a conscience, or else you would’ve watched me be attacked by those men.” She spoke her thoughts aloud as they popped into her head, no filter and not even waiting to hear her responses. 

“Look-”

“Or you just didn’t want to watch it, so now you’re just leaving me to die when you don’t have to see.” 

“Jesus-”

“Cause leaving me now is like second hand murder. You know I’m not going to get very far by myself, but you’re still leaving.”

“Alright, alright! Fine! Christ, you made your point, I got it!” The lady finally got her words in before the young girl interrupted her once again. The taller of the two swung around to gesture for the persistent girl to cease her incessant yapping, “I will walk you to the next town over and then as soon, and I mean as soon as I find another group or person to take you, you are not my problem anymore. Understand?”

Mars let a cheesy smile break onto her face as she literally jumped for joy. “Deal!” Extending her pinky finger out to seal the promise the taller woman had just made. 

“I’m not making a pinky promise.” The lady shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Still Mars held out her hand, smiling widely, tipping her head to encourage the standoffish girl to accept her outstretched pinky. 

“No! I’m not.” The girl doubled down. But Mars ever so vigorously stood her ground, until the other blonde sighed and finally did as Marleen had asked. She reached out her hand quickly interlinking her pinky finger with the younger girl. The tall blonde snatched her hand away after sealing their deal. 

“Oh my God, are you normally this fucking infuriating?” 

“It depends who you ask.” Said with a shrug of her shoulders and a smirk on her face. “I’m Marleen, by the way.” 

“I didn’t ask.”

“You can call me Mars though.” Her cheery voice continued, “Sooo- what’s your name?” She was met with silence. “Okay, fine. Stay mysterious. I’ll just call yooou- Jessica?”

“No.” Her saviour deadpanned. 

“Okay, not Jessica…. Georgia?” Hope seeped into her words as she gently elbowed her taller companion in an attempt to gain her favour. 

“Please stop.” 

“You could just tell me your name? I’d stop if I knew what to call you- maybe Lauren?” 

Realising she wouldn’t shut her mouth until she got what she wanted, the calmer of the pair offered a solution, “If I tell you my name, will you be quiet?” 

“Yes.” Her reply was instantaneous and full of excitement. 

“It’s Sam.” She sighed out exasperatedly. 

“Sam!” Mars grinned, barely one second of silence passed before she was speaking once again, “Sam Sam Sam… is that short for Samantha?” 

“Shut. Up!” 

AHHHHHHHHHH our girls finally met oml oml, so excited for this duo you have no idea! But ah, Sam doesn't seem all the keen on it ahaha sorry girl you got lumped with a whole ball of sunshine. Let me know if you also love these girlies together as much as I do.

Esra ✨

[tragedy-for-sale]

Favorite Liar pt. I

I have yet to see people talk about the physical pain Obi-Wan must have been in during the Hardeen arc. I mean, this man was constantly getting beat up and had dozens of untreated injuries. Not to mention, we saw how much pain he was in during the facial transformation, what about the pain turning back?

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Obi-Wan found it humerous Master Windu and Master Yoda had failed to mention how much this would hurt. But Obi-Wan knew if they kept adding on to the already long list of things that made Obi-Wan want to back out, that he would have. He was already lying far beyond he'd ever wanted to, he'd already hurt all those he loved and he didn't dare ask for forgiveness because had their places been shifted, Obi-Wan would have a hard time accepting an apology all the same. But this, this was just cruel. Returning to Obi-Wan Kenobi was a lot harder than becoming Rako Hardeen.

He would be lying if Obi-Wan had said he hadn't been avoiding Anakin and Ahsoka. He felt their betrayal all throughout the temple, from star systems away he could sense their pain. Pain that he caused. Obi-Wan couldn't stand that truth, he'd hurt them and there wasn't anything he could do to make it alright. His need to help others had only hurt the people he cared the most about. So there Obi-Wan sat, alone in the medical wing of the temple, hidden far from others, where he could hide and no one would see the shame on his face.

He looked out the window, that was all he could do. Upon his initial scan, the droid pointed out his several cracked ribs and the transformation back had left his face swollen and bruised, and the voice changer had left his throat feeling as if he'd swallowed blades. So Obi-Wan laid there, holding himself tightly as he fought the pain that came with each breath, as he prepared himself to swallow and whince at the pain. But he didn't have enough energy to whince, he didn't have enough energy for anything at all.

When hours passed, he woke up and shot up as he grabbed the container on the bedside table. He'd been terribly nauseous and he had yet to be able to keep anything down. Obi-Wan fell back onto the pillows, staring at the wall, he'd asked for privacy and he'd gotten it. Mace nor Yoda had come by since. Plo had left flowers, a rather odd gesture Obi-Wan thought, but appreciated it all the same.

Sitting up, he held his hand closely to his chest, moving slowly to ease his pain. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he could make it to the chair, Obi-Wan knew he could, it wasn't as if he'd gone through a major trauma, he was fine. He was just in a lot of pain. Nothing to worry about. Swinging his legs over the bed, he braced himself and with another deep breath, Obi-Wan stood up. He was leaning against the bed but he felt he could do this. He could make it to the chair. His left arm was still pressed against his aching chest, but he could make it. Step after step, he could make it- he really almost did.

Obi-Wan took too confident of a step, he felt blades against his lungs and he fell. Obi-Wan whimpered as he opened his eyes. His entire body shaking. He felt a wave of frustration wash over him, he slammed his fist down. "Dammit-" He whinced, eyes flooding with tears as he let out a sob. Obi-Wan shook his head, he shouldn't have done this, he didn't want to be fighting with Anakin, he didn't want Ahsoka to be mad at him, he didn't want his friends avoiding him like the plague. He wanted to be chasing after Ahsoka, finding Anakin in hide-and-seek, he wanted his family close, not held at arms length. He wanted Cody. Most of all, he couldn't stand Cody hating him. He loved him too much.

He'd been so angry with him, and Obi-Wan just stood there, wanting to tell Cody that he loved him, but Obi-Wan would open his mouth to say it but nothing would come out. He had tried to grab Cody's hand and Obi-Wan was still haunted by Cody yanking his hand back. He wasn't strong enough for this. He tried so hard to be okay with losing everyone he loved, he tried so hard not to be swept away by the undercurrent of remorse, but he'd failed so miserably. He cried for Cody, for hours, Cody's anger echoed in his mind, Cody fighting him until his tears caused his anger to resign. Obi-Wan had done his duty as a Jedi, but he'd lost everything, now all he had was himself, and he wouldn't choose to spend the rest of his life with himself. He wasn't someone Obi-Wan liked.

Obi-Wan fell onto his back, gasping for air. He shouldn't have tried to be brave. He should have just stayed in the bed. He shouldn't have tried to be a Jedi, he should've been selfish and let another take upon this task. He couldn't handle all the people he loved being angry at him, he couldn't handle being alone. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, he could feel his entire body shake, he was so cold. But he couldn't get up, he couldn't move his hand, he couldn't even think to use the force. All he could do was lay there and think, think of all he'd done,

Think of all he'd ruined.

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Part two here