#kit mallory

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear (XXVIII)

Part one // MASTERPOST // continued from here

Haha— this part is shit and all over the place, but it is published today!!! So there ya go🙂‍↕️ some whumpy stuff, the end is crap— yeah, idk, it will be edited at some point 🤷🤷‍♀️🤷‍♂️

*~*~*~*~*

Kit really needed to pee. Like he really needed to go, but here he was, still handcuffed to the headboard of the bed, and every possible position he tried to get into to unbutton his pants didn’t work out so he was sitting on the bed like a bold child and trying not to think about how much he really needed to pee.

Because it was verging on the edge of painful.

The sun had fallen since Jude had tried to strangle him and get his revenge. Ambrose must have left a few hours ago, and Kit was hungry and tired, but not tired enough to sleep.

And fuck… he really needed the toilet.

So eventually his organs overclouded by his better judgement and he reached out for Ambrose.

Psssttt… Dickhead.

Nothing. Kit stared at the wall ahead of him and shifted his position a little on the bed.

Psssst… Omenbitch.

Still nothing. Was Ambrose ignoring him? The fucking nerve of this guy!

HEY! Kit thought louder. YOU PIECE OF SH—

WHAT?!

Kit physically recoiled at the anger and deafening reply Ambrose shot him.

Kit… Ambrose said, and Kit could picture him sighing. Sorry, what do you want?

I need to piss.

Then piss.

On the floor?

Why not?

I’m not a fucking untrained dog for one, arsehole!

Well that is debatable.

You are such a dickhead.

For fuck’s sake, Nathan boomed in Kit’s mind and Kit’s ears rang from the sheer intensity of his voice. Nathan didn’t master the same control Ambrose did. He didn’t grow up with the gift, just appropriated it. What are you two arguing about?

I need to piss, Kit said at the same time that Ambrose said, he needs to piss.

Then piss.

Kit let out a frustrated sigh and stomped his foot on the ground.

Actually… Nathan continued. Hmm, Kit, perhaps you can piss and join us for dinner. I’ll have Jude fetch you.

Wait— Kit thought but winced as an invisible hand grabbed his head and slammed it back against the wall to cut him off. Kit hissed, his brain fogging over as the heat from the impact blossomed along his skull. Fucking dickhead with his stupid fucking powers. Maybe he should find someone with the power to not be a dickhead and he would be palatable then.

Don’t resist, Kit, Ambrose said in his mind. Kit knew not to reply because Nathan would hear him, but still. What would he say to that? His muscles were stiff from being cooped up on the bed for so long, unable to leave the room. And he was fucking starving. Dinner sounded great right about now.

A few minutes later and Kit heard footsteps coming up the stairs towards his room. He sat up on the edge of the bed as much as possible, eager to stand up finally. His eyes found cruel green when the door opened. Jude smiled at him as he walked in.

Kit swallowed the riling remark on the tip of his tongue, Ambrose told him not to resist so he would be good.

“Look at you, sitting and waiting like a good puppy. Well come on, everyone’s waiting,” Jude said and Kit frowned. He pulled on his cuffs as to remind him that Kit was stuck on the bed. Jude tilted his head. “Well?”

“I—” Kit began but cut himself off. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t,” Kit said through clenched teeth, rattling the cuffs again. Jude hummed and walked over to Kit. His green eyes lazily went over Kit’s arms locked behind his back to the bed, clearly seeing the handcuffs before he looked Kit in the eyes again, his smile sharp.

“Looks like you’re not trying hard enough,” Jude said with a shrug. Before Kit could ask if this guy was fucking mentally deficient, Jude’s hand shot out and he grabbed Kit’s cheeks, squeezing them hard until Kit couldn’t close his mouth or do anything except try and shake Jude’s hand off.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jude said, wrenching Kit’s head up so he was staring Jude in the eyes. Kit struggled in the cuffs, metal clanging dully against wood, trying to dislodge Jude’s hand but it was all in vain. Jude’s eyes seemed to get darker and Kit froze.

“No!” Kit protested, but with his mouth half open it just sounded like oh. As in, I know what you’re about to do, kind of oh.

“Kit, I think you’re not putting any effort into following me downstairs like a good boy. So how about you get out of your cuffs,” — even before he finished Kit could feel the fog settling over his mind, his struggles seizing momentarily, — “and follow me downstairs.”

Jude let go of Kit’s face and Kit’s expression turned blank as he began to pull at the cuffs. Yanking his wrists free, trying to twist and turn and pull them out of the cuffs, hut the cuffs were on too tight, locked with no wiggle room. All his struggles earned him was pain and he cried out as he yanked and tugged and pulled.

Kit?! Ambrose asked but Kit couldn’t answer. He had to get out of the cuffs. Jude stepped back and grinned, watching as the hero struggled and writhed in pain, trying to free himself from his restraints. There was always something so beautiful about overriding someone’s self-preservation and watching them destroy themselves.

“Fuck!” Kit screamed as he felt warm blood trickle from his wrists as he yanked violently at the cuffs on the bed. “Please, please— AGH!”

“It’s not difficult, Kit. Come on now, chop chop. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

Kit ripped and tore, his shoulder slammed violently forward as he squirmed, using one foot on the floor and the other on the bed to try and pull his hands free as the stench of iron filled the room. Jude chuckled behind him, his cat-like amusement palpable as Kit changed position again.

He turned his body, his arms twisting around and he pulled with a horrific scream until a loud crack echoed around the room and Kit cried out in pain, falling to the floor. He let out a loud, pained grunt as he cradled his broken hand and brought it to his chest.

“KIT!” Ambrose screamed up the stairs, but Kit barely heard it, the world swimming in front of him as blood poured from his wrists. A hand grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and yanked him to his feet. Kit stumbled into a standing, his feet stumbling and fumbling over each other as he was pushed forward.

They stopped just before the stairs and a door was opened in front of him. All he saw was white before he was shoved in and Kit went sprawling, his hands out to catch him and he screamed.

“JUDE YOU FUCKING— I SWEAR TO GOD, NO GET OFF ME, NATE!”

“You have sixty seconds,” Jude said sweetly. “I’ll even close the door for you.”

Kit blinked, pain vignetting his vision. His blood coated the tiles with a putrid crimson, oh, he was in a bathroom. Right.

He had needed to pee…

Kit grabbed the edge of something white with his good hand and started to pull himself up, blinking away the pain, his body numbed to feeling. His teeth chattered as he looked around, searching for the toilet. Just in front of him… he would— he could make that.

Bloody handprints smeared the walls as Kit made his way over, the handcuffs still locked around his good wrist. It was an effort to unbutton his pants, but he felt so much better after peeing. Like his hand wasn’t mangled right now.

When he saw his face in the mirror over the sink he recoiled, disgusted. He wasn’t pale, he was white. White as the bathroom tiles, almost see through, his skin translucent and stretched taut over the bones in his face. His skin was breaking out in red sores and his eyes were veined with that luminous red lightning stretching like branches across his face.

He looked like a monster.

Like something from a ghost story.

He washed his good hand and glanced down at his mangled one, a heavy, warm feeling turning in his stomach that he swallowed as he grabbed his bad arm and forced it under the cold water. He cried out, biting his cheek and lips to dampen the sound but he abandoned that all together when the water hit his thumb and he cried out.

“Times up, drama queen,” Jude said, opening the door. Kit looked at him with wet eyes, a shivering, pale mess, like a cancer patient or a terminally sick man. Was he going to die with this red lightning? Was that his future? He didn’t…

All of sudden Jude was in front of him, turning off the tap and grabbing Kit by the hair, yanking him out behind him. “Fuck, ow! Let me go! Stop! Let me—”

“Go?” Jude asked, coming to a sudden stop. “Gladly.”

With a strong swing, Jude dragged Kit in front of him and then kicked Kit in the hip and Kit fell. Only he didn’t stop. His elbow hit one stairs, his head following, his feet going over his head, hitting his knee, his ankle, his bad hand and he gasped as he rolled and bounced and tumbled until he stopped and he whimpered at the bottom, coughing, trying to get some air back in his lungs.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!” Ambrose seethed and Kit was vaguely aware of a struggle but his brain wasn’t cooperating enough help him fill in the gaps. He wheezed as he put his good hand under him, still wet from the water and it slid across the floor and he fell again. Pathetic.

Weak.

He can’t even lift his head, god, what would Mentor think of him like this? If he saw him now? His second chance? His strong legacy? Would he turn away like he did to Ambrose? Would he throw him out and tell him to never come knocking again?

���Kit, hey,” a pair of black eyes met Kit’s, but even holding a gaze seemed too monumental a task. “It’s okay. You’re fine. I’m going to get you up, okay?”

Kit hummed in pain. Ambrose took it as assent. He hooked an arm around Kit’s waist and grabbed his bad arm at the elbow, putting Kit’s arm over his shoulder. Kit moaned wetly as his hand bounced off Ambrose’s shoulder as the villain stood the two of them up. Kit put weight on his leg and one of his ankles folded and he gasped as he crumbled, but Ambrose kept him up.

“It’s okay. Hey, it’s okay. I got you. Come on, it’s okay,” Ambrose said as he walked Kit to a chair at the dining table. “You’re fine. Come on. It’s okay.”

Kit was openly crying but he didn’t care. He was exhausted and starving and humiliated and in pain, he wanted someone to be nice to him. Even if Ambrose did torture him before, he needed, no he craved the kindness now and he would take it from anybody. His life has been too hard lately, he just wants something nice, something soft.

“There,” Ambrose said, gently depositing Kit in a chair. Kit shivered as Ambrose let go of him. Before Ambrose could step away, Kit’s good hand shot across his body and grabbed Ambrose’s sleeve. Ambrose stiffened beside him. “Hey, Kit— it’s—”

“Oskar.” Nathan said, his voice commanding, and Kit whimpered. He tightened his fingers in Ambrose’s sleeve, begging without speaking for Ambrose not to leave him. Silver eyes cut into Kit’s face. He trembled and shut his eyes, turning his head into Ambrose’s arm. “Come here, now.”

“Nate, please, he’s—”

“Do you want me to let Jude come and break you up?”

Kit tightened his grip and whimpered again. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, please, please,” he said as Ambrose took his hand and plucked it off his sleeve. “Ambrose please, don’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving, I’m just sitting over here, okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Anything else happen to me, Kit corrected silently.

Ambrose’s shoulders wound tight at that, but he continued walking past Nate to a seat at the opposite end of the table. It wasn’t a big table, but in Kit’s current state, it would take him years to cross it or reach safety. All he could do was shake in his chair like a fucking chihuahua.

Kit’s eyes slid to Nathan’s silver that were fixed on him, swirling slowly like mercury. It made Kit motion sick. “I’m guessing we don’t have to restrain you, do we?”

“F-f-fuck you.” Kit spat. The effort pulled a cough from his chest, he doubled over the table and gasped. He could feel the beginnings of a nosebleed trickle down his nose, warm and sticky on his face as it ran over his lips.

“Mmm, I’m terrified, little hero.” Nathan said as he turned away and walked to the other end of the table, pulling out the seat directly opposite Kit. He sat down in his chair and reached his hand out to grab Ambrose’s hand in his.

Kit glanced at Ambrose who stiffened, but allowed Nathan to lift his hand and press a possessive kiss to his knuckles. “It’s so nice to get to know your new friend, Oskar. Tell me. How did you two meet?”

Kit steadied himself and sat back in the chair, resting his head against the soft cushion. The room was swirling in front of his eyes, everything hazy and a little too bright so he closed his eyes but that didn’t help the wooziness that followed and made him feel worse.

“Work,” is all Ambrose replied. Kit opened his eyes again at the answer.

Amused mercury eyes found Kit’s. Nathan rubbed his thumb over the back of Ambrose’s knuckles. “Did you try to stop the great Omen, Kit?”

Kit didn’t answer. He just stared. A small searing ring started to echo in the back of Kit’s mind as Ambrose lurched forward and wrapped two hands around Nathan’s. The ringing stopped as Nathan turned to Ambrose, smiling a little sadly at him.

“Don’t. He won’t be able to handle anymore pain!” Ambrose said, his voice pleading.

“So?” Nathan asked, reaching his free hand up to brush Ambrose’s dark curls away from his eyes. “What do I care if he dies?”

“If you kill him, I’ll leave.” Ambrose snapped. That seemed to suck all air from the room. If Kit wasn’t lightheaded before he certainly was now. Nathan’s expression was as calm as the eye of a storm, but even here Kit could feel his cold fury at Ambrose’s ultimatum.

Nathan sat back in his chair, pulling his hand from Ambrose’s. His eyes flickered to Kit, then to Ambrose and back to Kit before he smiled. “I see. That’s how it is, is it?”

“Yes,” Ambrose snapped. “That’s how it is.”

Nathan let out a small, humourless chuckle. His eyes glinted like gunmetal as he pushed back on the table, wood scraping against wood. Ambrose stood too.

“Nate—”

“Sit down, Ambrose.”

“Wait, what’re you—” the wind was knocked from Ambrose’s lungs as he was thrown heavily into his chair. The wood bent like liquid around his arms and hardened again as Nathan started towards Kit. “Nate! Stop, wait. I’m sorry— I won’t—”

“No, Oskar, you’re right.” Nathan said. Kit clicked his fingers below the table, but all he could generate was a measly spark with the cuffs still locked around one hand. He was too weak. “I don’t want to kill the boy, do I? But that’s okay. We can rough him up as much as we like. I can give him to Jude as a toy and tell him to bring him to the brink of death over and over and over again.”

“Nathan!” Ambrose cried, grunting as he struggled to break his wooden shackles.

Nathan grabbed Kit’s broken hand and squeezed. Kit screamed, crying out as he tried to escape or push Nathan off of him. Nathan turned to Ambrose.

“Nathan, stop! Please!”

“Hush, you worry too much. Look, I can do this.”

The sound of bones breaking echoed through Kit’s skull and he roared as his body repaired itself. He could feel his body stitch itself back together artificially, the heat of his cells and blood working overtime as he writhed under Nathan’s touch.

After what felt like an eternity Nathan released him and Kit’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. He slipped from the chair, boneless, his head slapped off the wooden floor and he woke again, moaning in pain. He reached a hand up to his temple and he shivered when he realised that was his broken hand. The hand Jude forced him to rip from the cuffs.

Kit turned, his body moving like molasses, sludge-like and slow, as he turned onto his back and scrambled back from Nathan who was advancing towards him again.

“Nathan! The trauma on his body will kill him! His heart—” Ambrose stammered, struggling in hushed wooden prison. “He can’t take another healing like that in such a short amount of time.”

“Oh don’t worry, Osk.” Nathan said, smiling shark-like down at Kit. Kit’s heart stuttered in his chest as he clicked his fingers but nothing. Fucking! STUPID CUFFS! FUCK!

“Don’t come near me,” Kit yelled. “You fucking psychopath! Let us go!”

Nathan stopped advancing as Kit’s back hit something solid. He froze, his chest rising and falling erratically. He didn’t recognise the solid thing behind him was a pair of legs until knees were bending into his shoulders and he jerked away. Kit threw himself to the side on his hands and knees and pushed himself up, running towards Ambrose’s chair and pulling at the wooden beams locking his arms down.

“Kit, I’ll be fine,” Ambrose said, his voice sounded strangely gentle and pleading. “Go! Just—”

“Kiiiiiiiiiiitttt,” and Kit swayed on his feet. Ambrose turned his head and said something but the words turned to water and slipped through his fingers like a sieve, unable to catch them or decipher them.

A hand grabbed his face and turned him to look into dark green eyes and Kit snapped out of his trance, smacking Jude’s hands away and grabbing the free cuff in his fist before sending a punch straight to Jude’s jaw. Then his nose.

The maniac stumbled back, blood dripping from his face but Kit didn’t give him an inch and stepped in again, clicking his fingers with one hand while he punched Jude in the eye this time and the villain screamed as something squelched. Lightning sparked in Kit’s fist and he channeled it into the hand with the cuff and grabbed Jude with his free hand, going for the final blow.

A hand caught his fist and Kit’s eyes shot to Nathan. The veins erupting from his silver eyes were electric purple, and the electricity consumed Kit’s until Kit’s grip on Jude let up. He jerked back, yanking his arm back but Nathan just crushed his hand around Kit’s until Kit’s wrist bent under the sheer strength.

“OKAY! Okay! Fuck!” Kit screamed, folding with his arm to his knees but Nathan didn’t relent.

“Nate! Nate, please! Stop!” Ambrose cried frantically. “Please! Leave him alone!”

“Just who is this kid to you, Oskar?!” Nathan demanded, kicking Kit onto his back and stomping on his chest. “Why do you care about him so much?!”

“Because he’s— he— fuck,” Ambrose yelled, slamming his head back on the chair. “He’s…”

“He’s?”

“I don’t know!” Ambrose snapped. Kit’s eyes went to Ambrose, brows coming over his eyes. What the fuck was Ambrose talking about? “Mentor adopted him when I left, Nate.”

Nathan froze above Kit. His head snapped to Ambrose and he got off of Kit. It wasn’t like Kit could move, he could feel a telekinetic energy rippling above him like a barrier, keeping him pinned but he could turn his head to Ambrose and Nathan.

Nathan’s eyes were hard, his brows lowered slightly and pinching together in something like concern. Nathan grabbed Ambrose’s chin and forced Ambrose to look at him. “What?” Nathan demanded, breathless.

“I didn’t know,” Ambrose said. “I didn’t know it when I met Kit, but— it’s true.”

For a long, tense moment, Nathan said nothing, just stared, his eyes searching Ambrose’s face for something, anything.

“Oh Oskar,” Nathan said with a sigh, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Ambrose’s forehead. Silver eyes glanced down to Kit. “We can kill him together if you like.”

“No!” Ambrose said quickly. Kit’s heart thundered against his ears, his blood rushing through his body quickly, preparing his muscles for a fight. “No. That’s not what I want.”

“Then what is it, Osk?” Nathan asked, leaning back and cupping Ambrose’s cheeks with both of his hands, forcing Ambrose to look at him. “What is it about this fucking kid that would make you sacrifice everything for him? This isn’t you. You’re not a hero.”

“This isn’t about being a hero!” Ambrose protested.

“Isn’t it?” Nathan challenged. “You think if you can save this kid that maybe it will change how your father looks at you?”

Ambrose didn’t hesitate. “No.”

“You’re lying, Oskar.”

“I already took everything from him, Nate!” Ambrose snapped. Kit flinched on the ground. Everything from him? How much did Kit have to offer? Not much, if everything meant that Kit’s life was already used and ruined by Omen.

Wasn’t it though?

Kit didn’t even struggle to fight the barrier holding him anymore. He was tired, he realised. Tired of fighting to try and not get hurt, to try and stop people hurting him. He didn’t want to be used as leverage against Ambrose anymore. He’d rather Ambrose just kill him.

He should have just killed him…

Kit…

Kit didn’t acknowledge Ambrose in his head. He just lay flat and stared at the ceiling. Had all his fighting been for nothing? Was he destined to die at the hands of a villain? A supervillain?

Maybe his golden years were the ones he spent with Mentor, and he already knew during that time, even that happiness would end. He wasn’t born to be happy. He wasn’t built for happiness. Some people just weren’t. That’s okay.

Kit, if I knew… If I could take it all back…

Kit just stared at the ceiling above him. It didn’t matter. None of it… he cast his eyes down to his forearm, looking at the scars there, Ambrose’s special ownership. Like a collar on a dog, something that would be there for a long time, longer than Kit would like.

What was he if not just a chew toy for stronger people to use and abuse however they wanted? Make him do whatever they wanted him to? Jude… Ambrose… Nathan.

They were all the same level of strong.

God. Kit was such an idiot. He didn’t realise he was crying until a hot drop dripped onto his cheek and he flinched.

He should have never joined the Academy. He should never have let his head be filled with ideals of being a hero, a fucking Hero?! Against villains like these? He couldn’t even fight back without being slapped into last week by one of them, or forcing himself to torture himself for their sick, sadistic pleasure.

Silver eyes leaned over Kit, staring down at him with a hard look on his face. Kit stared back, blinking blankly up at the villain. He straightened and snapped his fingers with a sigh. The sound of wood creaking snapped Kit out of his spiralling thoughts and then black eyes were above him.

“Kit, hey.” Ambrose said, slapping his face lightly. Kit turned his head away.

“Just take him to a room,” Nathan said. “A proper room. I’ll lock the door once you leave, Oskar.”

“Can I—?”

“Do what you like,” Nathan said with a sigh. Kit ignored the conversation as Ambrose pulled him to his feet. Ambrose glanced over his shoulder at Nathan.

“Thank you, Nate.”

Nathan turned away. “No problem, darling.”

“Really,” Ambrose said. “Thank you.”

Kit didn’t care about whatever moment the two bastards were sharing. He just wanted to be dead, to be killed. He wanted Ambrose to just join Nathan and team up against him already, make him regret ever being born.

Fuck… he…

“Kit, please,” Ambrose whispered quietly. Kit didn’t answer. He just kept walking.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

@beatenbruisedandbloody @404lunar1216 @whumpyworld @nameless-beanie @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @blood-enthusiast t t @tippytappytyping @shinokoro @bedtimescenarios @whatwhump @acer-whumpstuff @fa1rie @jesterrinobutter @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @dutifullykrispyland @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @ehobep

[chaotic-orphan]

AHHHHHH!!!! I love it so much!!!! Oh my god it is exactly how I pictured them!!! Ambrose’s hair is perfect!!! And poor Kit… just bleeding out crying for help and Ambrose does not care! He’s so happy.

It is fantastic oh my god!!! Thank you for drawing my boys, galgurl!!! It is so creative but captures Villain’s sadism so well!!!!

Thank you so much!!! AGHHH!! I am screaming right now!!! Kit will get justice one day, but it’s the in between that is concerning…

Fanart for @oprhan

I insanley love your intoxicating fear series girlie !!!! Like it’s totes my absolute fav story to reread !! Genuinely can’t wait to see what happens next like I hope hero/kit gets justice one dayyy 😭😭

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Voice Headcanon (Crash Stardom! edition)

I'm gonna share some of my OC voice headcanons from my urban fantasy, science fiction WIP Crash Stardom!

If you like this pls reblog or reply! <3

Tristan Mallory (voice headcanon) - Finnick Odair from Hunger Games (Sam Claflin)

Noah Mallory (voice headcanon) - Stiles Stilinski from Teen Wolf (Dylan O'Brien)

Chion Strihdda (voice headcanon) - Milo Thatch from Atlantis (Michael J. Fox)

Randall Sloanne (voice headcanon) - Loki Odinson from Thor 1 (Tom Hiddleston)

Fabian Styrling (voice headcanon) - Hunter from Owl House (Zeno Robinson)

Arden Ellis (voice headcanon) - Jonah Scott in his 'If Fantasy Elves had Brooklyn Accents' video

Derya Muirenn (voice headcanon) - Shuri from Black Panther (Letitia Wright)

Aspen Staudder (voice headcanon) - Rapunzel from Tangled (Mandy Moore)

Beck Staudder (voice headcanon) - Lucifer Morningstar from Lucifer (Tom Ellis)

Matteo Villaryth (voice headcanon) - Zatz from Maya and the Three (Diego Luna)

Kit Lovotta (voice headcanon) - Mr. Wolf from The Bad Guys

Dassian Eranae (voice headcanon) - Sphynx - Dragon's Dogma 2 (Alexa Bauer)

Juniper "Juni" Mei (voice headcanon)- Vi from Arcane (Hailee Steinfeld)

Seth Tanith (voice headcanon) - Ian Malcolm from Jurassic Park (Jeff Goldblum)

My taglist: @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers, @finickyfelix

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid,

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@wyked-ao3 and OPEN TAG

[drewlyyours]

oh my god, he’s STILL PINING

[nancydrewpcpolls]

Aside from Nancy

[incorrectnancydrewquotes]

Kyler: Matt and I are getting married! Kit: How? What? How? Matt: Three excellent questions.

[swpics]

The Westfield Megabusa of Paul Beesley locks up at the chicane at the S&HMC Mallory Park sprint, a round of the British Sprint Championship. Report on event in the current issue of Classic and Competition Car magazine. Free to read at www.classicandcompetitioncar.com

[giratina-and-the-skys-bouquet]

OCs? Gris, tell me things!

OMG HAIII ( blorbos from my brain aka Aw Shit This Is An Apocalypse)

Basic plot summary is that six people leave their safety places to go blow up the still operating WMs (get it. war machines. do you get-) and turn off the place that controls them on mass ( a massive red button that says do not touch).

this meme but replace "cool robot" with "road trip from hell".

and it's an apocalypse setting but like. generic suburbia. And society is kinda recovering? but also not. Towns are scattered around and commute and trade but there's nothing global.

Its still very scattered. But they are so silly (the poor guys who get to go through said road trip from hell) ^_^

[pupsmailbox]

NEUTRAL LEANING MASC NAMES︰ abner.　 abram.　 adam.　 adrian.　 alex.　 alistair.　 andreas.　 ariel.　 arlen.　 arley.　 arlo.　 ash.　 atlas.　 auden.　 august.　 austin.　 avery.　 bailey.　 baron.　 barrett.　 baylor.　 beauden.　 bee.　 bellamy.　 bennett.　 blair.　 blaise.　 bowen.　 brayden.　 brendan.　 bronson.　 bryce.　 byron.　 caius.　 caleb.　 callahan.　 callan.　 calloway.　 callum.　 camden.　 cameron.　 carlin.　 carson.　 casey.　 cassian.　 chandler.　 chase.　 cody.　 cole.　 connolly.　 corban.　 corwin.　 cyrus.　 dallas.　 damion.　 damon.　 daniel.　 darius.　 davis.　 dawson.　 daylon.　 denver.　 desmond.　 devin.　 doran.　 dorian.　 drew.　 elian.　 elias.　 ellery.　 ellison.　 emery.　 ethan.　 evan.　 ezra.　 fallen.　 farren.　 finley.　 ford.　 foster.　 gabriel.　 gannon.　 garner.　 gavin.　 gentry.　 graham.　 greer.　 griffin.　 guthrie.　 harley.　 harlow.　 hartley.　 hayden.　 henley.　 henry.　 heron.　 hollis.　 hunter.　 ian.　 irving.　 isaiah.　 jace.　 james.　 jameson.　 jared.　 jeremiah.　 joel.　 jonah.　 joran.　 jordan.　 jory.　 josiah.　 jovian.　 jude.　 julian.　 juno.　 justus.　 kalen.　 kamden.　 kay.　 kayden.　 keaton.　 kellan.　 keller.　 kelly.　 kendon.　 kieran.　 kit.　 kylan.　 landry.　 lane.　 lennon.　 leslie.　 levi.　 leyton.　 liam.　 linden.　 lowell.　 luca.　 madden.　 marley.　 marlow.　 marshall.　 martin.　 mason.　 mathias.　 mercer.　 merritt.　 micah.　 miles.　 miller.　 milo.　 morgan.　 morrie.　 morrison.　 nate.　 nevin.　 nick.　 nicky.　 nico.　 nicolas.　 noah.　 noel.　 nolan.　 oren.　 orion.　 owen.　 parker.　 percy.　 perrin.　 peyton.　 pierce.　 porter.　 preston.　 quincy.　 quinn.　 reece.　 reid.　 reign.　 rein.　 remi.　 remington.　 renley.　 riley.　 river.　 robin.　 rollins.　 ronan.　 rory.　 rowan.　 russell.　 ryan.　 rylan.　 sam.　 samuel.　 sawyer.　 saylor.　 seth.　 shiloh.　 soren.　 spencer.　 stellan.　 sterling.　 talon.　 taylor.　 thaddeus.　 thane.　 theo.　 toni.　 tracy.　 tristan.　 tyrus.　 valor.　 warner.　 wells.　 wesley.　 whitten.　 william.　 willis.　 wylie.　

NEUTRAL LEANING FEM NAMES︰ abigaël.　 abilene.　 addison.　 adrian.　 ainsley.　 alexis.　 and.　 andrea.　 arden.　 aria.　 ashley.　 aspen.　 aubrey.　 autumn.　 avery.　 avian.　 ayla.　 bailey.　 beryl.　 blair.　 blaire.　 blake.　 briar.　 brooklyn.　 brooks.　 bryce.　 cameron.　 camille.　 casey.　 celeste.　 channing.　 charlie.　 chase.　 collins.　 cordelia.　 courtney.　 daisy.　 dakota.　 dana.　 darby.　 darcy.　 delaney.　 delilah.　 devin.　 dylan.　 eden.　 eisley.　 elia.　 ellerie.　 ellery.　 ellie.　 elliot.　 elliott.　 ellis.　 ellory.　 ember.　 emelin.　 emerson.　 emery.　 evelyn.　 ezra.　 fallon.　 finley.　 fiore.　 florence.　 floris.　 frances.　 greer.　 gwenaël.　 hadley.　 harley.　 harper.　 haven.　 hayden.　 heike.　 hollis.　 hunter.　 ivy.　 jade.　 jamie.　 jocelyn.　 jordan.　 jude.　 juno.　 kelly.　 kelsey.　 kendall.　 kennedy.　 koda.　 kyrie.　 lacey.　 lane.　 leighton.　 lennon.　 lennox.　 lesley.　 leslie.　 lilian.　 lindsay.　 loden.　 logan.　 lou.　 lyric.　 madison.　 mallory.　 marinell.　 marley.　 mckenzie.　 melody.　 mercede.　 meredith.　 mio.　 misha.　 monroe.　 montana.　 morgan.　 nico.　 nova.　 oakley.　 olympia.　 owen.　 page.　 palmer.　 parker.　 pat.　 paulie.　 perri.　 petyon.　 peyton.　 phoenix.　 piper.　 priscilla.　 quinn.　 raven.　 ray.　 reagan.　 reece.　 reese.　 remi.　 remy.　 riley.　 rio.　 river.　 robin.　 rory.　 rosario.　 rowan.　 ryan.　 rylie.　 sacha.　 sage.　 sam.　 sammy.　 santana.　 sasha.　 sawyer.　 saylor.　 severin.　 shannon.　 shelby.　 shiloh.　 skye.　 skylar.　 sloane.　 sol.　 soleil.　 sterling.　 stevie.　 sutton.　 swan.　 swann.　 sydney.　 tatum.　 taylo.　 taylor.　 tracey.　 valentine.　 vanya.　 vivendel.　 vivian.　 vivien.　 wren.　 wynn.　 yael.

[meazalykov]

invisible string theory

lena oberdorf x uswnt!bayern!reader

part one - part two - part three

summary: you're with her now, but you've known of her for longer than that.

warnings: long chapter, suggestive content

back in the united states, you were heartbroken. 

due to the contract that gotham had with lyon, there wasn’t a possibility that lyon could permanently sign you. the french club tried to sign you for another loan year with a mandatory buy option, but gotham didn’t want that. 

so now you’re here, dressed in a gotham kit watching the team play the chicago red stars from the bench. 

its the 70th minute and you had your arms crossed sitting on the bench. your national teammate, mallory, and your other friend midge sat beside you after coming off minutes before. 

“my ankle is killing me, i might have to go to medic after this game ends.” mallory hissed as she held onto her ankle. sometime after halftime, a chicago red stars player kicked the back of mallory’s ankle on accident. 

“you should, its bruised!” you say as you observe her ankle from your seat, your hands still crossed together as midge decides to hold your right arm in comfort. 

midge turns her head and noticed the coach, yes the coach that's not happy with you, coming your way. 

“y/n.” midge tapped your shoulder. you looked to your right to see the coach looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“y/n, you should warm up, you’re going on in the 80th minute.” the coach says before going back to observe the game. 

your eyebrows knitted together before you quickly took off your windbreaker jacket. being a benchwarmer the last two games since coming back from france was something you were starting to get used to until another club put in their offers. 

the coach has received a bunch of hate in the media because of you. which kind of soccer coach wouldn’t start one of the best players in the world? well, a coach with an agenda– that's for sure. 

being subbed into the game five minutes later, you already had the ball at your feet. as you run across the pitch and dribble pass a few chicago players, you pass up to carli lloyd. 

the striker takes the shot but it deflects off of the post. luckily, the ball landed back on your blue cleat and you tapped the ball into the goal. opening up the score 1-0 for gotham before the 90th minute. 

knowing your situation at gotham, you didn’t celebrate as happily as you did back when you scored at lyon. all you did was put your hands up high as your teammates gathered around to hug you. 

“i’m pretty sure that this is a good moment after being back from winning the champions league in europe.” a commentator says as you go back into the starting position as an attacking midfielder. 

“that’s my girl!” you heard midge yell from the benches. you look over to see her and mallory with the brightest smiles as you nod your head at them. 

you loved your teammates, but you wanted to be at another club more than anything. 

after the game that afternoon, your agent called you. 

she said that many clubs in europe wanted to sign you– permanently. 

that's all you wanted, you didn’t want to take a loan deal and attach yourself to another club just to come back here again. you wanted a new permanent home. it's 2020 and the transfer window in europe will close soon.

she said that psg was the first to put in an offer for you, but you immediately declined. somehow, you felt loyal to lyon and didn’t want to join paris. 

the next clubs she mentioned were real madrid, manchester united, ajax, and aston villa. you declined on those as well, not really seeing yourself in those clubs. 

even though bayern munich wasn’t the last club on the list, you were interested in that offer once your agent mentioned it. 

your agent mentioned that the coach personally wanted you at the club, and the club offered a good amount of benefits.

so, after a few days of deciding, you were in germany signing a contract with the bavarian club until 2025. 

over the months, you adjusted to the club perfectly. you got along with the girls, made a promise that you’ll learn to speak german, and your new best friend sydney was there to guide you. 

in november 2020, you were in the starting lineup to play against wolfsburg. 

this is your first time going up against the green team since you were with the french club, so you were ready to face them again. 

as you were standing in the tunnel, you talked with lineth beerensteyn about what to expect. this is your first start with the club, since the coach wanted you to get familiar with the games first. this was fair and something you went through with lyon as well. 

“its nice to face them again.” you respond to lineth after she asked you how you felt about wolfsburg. she smirks at you before pinching your shoulder. 

“oh yeah– i forgot we have a champions league winner on our hands.” she laughed. you rolled your eyes playfully as you shook your head. 

“don’t forget about the world cup.” sydney lohmann joins in. your jaw dropped as you shook your head again. 

“okay let's not talk about me, lets talk about the upcoming match” you say. 

“you’re right you’re right,” lineth laughs at her teasing towards you, “games against wolfsburg get pretty intense when you’re with bayern. they’re the “rivals” or whatever you want to say.” she continued. 

“just make sure that you take advantage of any opportunity you see. some of the midfielders will go for your ankles so i’d watch out for that too. things can get heated” the dutch finished. 

you nodded your head as you observed the wolfsburg players around the tunnel. some, like svenja and dominique, patted your back since you’re happy to see you again but in the bundesliga. 

before you walked ahead to talk to sydney, you felt a hand on your left shoulder. 

“so– what brings you here?” you look over your shoulder to see lena. 

honestly, you forgot about her after the champions league final. you have her jersey in your apartment along with other players' jerseys you’ve traded with in the past, but things were stressful for you when you went back home. 

“beating you again.” you teased. lena placed her hand over her heart before giggling, 

“not that! i mean it's nice to see you in this league.” she says. 

“oh danke– sorry– the adjustment here was easy thankfully.” you smile. 

lena wraps her arm around your shoulder, causing you to feel warm on the inside, does she know what she is doing to you? 

“that’s good– it would’ve been nice to see you in our jersey though.” lena whispers. you look over at her, your voice caught into your throat. 

“um- no thanks. i would miss getting my ankles broken by you if we were on the same team.” you tease. she unwraps her arm from your body, and pats you on the shoulders with a smirk, before going back to where the wolfsburg substitutes are without saying anything else. 

“y/n.. how do you know lena?” sydney walks up to you with her eyebrows knitted together. she looked curious, smiling, as you crossed your arms together. 

“we met during some adidas event at the world cup. well- i met giulia actually but lena just happened to be there and-” 

“and you guys are dating? why didn’t you tell-”

“woah syd slow down! we aren’t dating?” you cut her off. 

sydney smirks at you before laughing, realizing what the conversation turned into. 

“i’m sorry. you guys looked very flirty and familiar with each other.” sydney said as she rested her arm on your shoulder. you shrugged the other shoulder. 

“I mean the last time I talked to her was at the champions league final last season. she's cute but i don’t know if she even sees me that way?” you whisper in sydneys ear. 

you’re comfortable talking about this with sydney. she’s become your best friend since arriving in germany, but it feels like you’ve known her for longer than that. 

“the way that she looked at you, i would say she does.” sydney comments. 

you were going to question that but everyone started to lineup in the tunnel to head out. so, all you could do is wonder with your thoughts as you walked out to start the game. 

a year later, you were waiting at the airport in wolfsburg after a last minute decision. 

after that game in november 2020, lena and you started following each other on instagram. the both of you got each other's phone numbers and have been in touch everyday since. 

due to not being on the same club team, or national team, you didn’t see lena much– if not at all. 

randomly, as you were in your kitchen hours before– lena texted you. 

obi

we should go to this new restaurant that opened up downtown wolfsburg 

y/n 

how? i’m in munich.. 

obi 

check your email. 

when you checked your email, you saw that she sent you a confirmation and a plane ticket for wolfsburg. you jaw dropped in the middle of your kitchen as you were finishing making a few pastries for the bayern girls. 

y/n 

did you really buy me a plane ticket to see you? 

y/n 

you’re insane

y/n 

the flight is in three hours? you’re eager

y/n 

where am i supposed to stay at? 

obi

yes i did

obi

just for you 

obi

you can stay with me. i have a spare room 

you stood outside of the wolfsburg airport with a carry on bag waiting for lena’s car. luckily, there is no training or games scheduled since its thanksgiving break– so you had a day or two to spend with lena. 

after talking for a year, you guys weren't official. its clear that you are in the “talking stage” with the wolfsburg midfielder, but you hoped that she will be your girlfriend soon– even with the distance. 

as you looked down at your phone, watching a tiktok video that popped up on your fyp, you heard a loud car beep their horn. 

ignoring that your heart nearly jumped out of your chest in fear, you looked up to see lena getting out of the drivers side of her car. 

“obi!” you say as you grab your carry on bag. the german smiles brightly as she held her arms out for you. 

when you hugged her taller body, the nerves in your stomach eased away. the warmth of her body and her coconut scent seemed to give you peace in those short seconds. 

“hi liebe! how was your flight?” she whispered in your ear, not breaking the hug just yet. 

her proximity to your ear made you feel something that you’ve never felt before. something you couldn’t say out loud. 

“my flight was smooth, i had a row to myself.” you smile as you looked at lena’s blushed face. 

you weren’t surprised about the small amount of people on the flight, it was an 6pm flight and plane rides from munich to wolfsburg weren’t long at all. 

“that’s perfect. here, give me that.” lena held her hands out. 

you were confused before you noticed that she was pointing at your bag. you gave her your carry on, which she gently put in the trunk of her car as you got into the passenger seat. 

when you guys arrived to her apartment, you were quick to pull your adidas slides off and sit on her couch. lena smiled, happy that you made yourself comfortable in her space. 

“it’s late, so i’m not sure if you want to do much.” lena says. 

pulling your phone out of your pocket, seeing that it just hit 21:00, you agree. 

“we could watch a movie.” you suggested. 

“we can, but can it not be those horror movies you love seeing?” lena asked. 

as much as you guys had in common, movies weren’t one of them. 

lena loved disney animated movies and comedies, you loved horror films along with star wars. 

“you know what we should watch!? we should watch the phantom menace! it's not horror!” you smirked. 

lena rolled her eyes playfully, remembering a phone conversation you guys had in the past. 

“I remember when you said that you wanted me to get you started on the star wars trilogies. it's a win-win for the both of us,” you stood up from the couch and held lena’s hands with your own. the close proximity made lena’s face turn a shade of pink. 

“i get to watch star wars, and you get to watch a disney movie– since star wars is owned by disney.” you came closer, just inches from her nose hitting yours. 

she's taller than you, so she looked down at you slightly with a questioning look. 

“sure.” she says, distracted. 

your boldness seemed to go away the same second that you stopped talking. your breathing slowed as you realized what you’ve done. 

lena’s eyes looked down to your lips as you did the same with her. 

the both of you are alone in her apartment, you realize that no-one would be there to distract you if she kisses you. 

you didn’t mind. 

the german moves her arms around your lower waist as you lean in to kiss her. as you made contact with her lips, your hands moved to the back of her neck. 

the kissing got heated quickly. lena was clearly the dominant one in the situation as she lifted you up and your legs were around her waist, walking you to her bedroom. 

and you know how things went afterwards!

before you left to go back to munich two days later, lena asked you to be her girlfriend.

you said yes, happy but sad to leave her so soon.

after another few months, it's july 2022. 

unfortunately for you, you were out on a three month injury. your hamstring teared while you were on international break with the uswnt– so you were free to return to germany. 

however, you didn’t go to germany. you wanted to support lena and the rest of your bayern girls at the euros in england. 

you’ve seen the prep that your girlfriend lena has put into this competition. due to the distance, you don’t see her everyday– but you guys have perfected the routine of seeing each other when off-days align. 

on the sidelines of the final with germany against england, you wore the green germany kit with some levi 90s jeans. of course, the kit had lena’s last name on the back. 

some people might be offended that you, an american player of their national team, is wearing another countries kit– but you know the majority wouldn’t care, and neither did you. 

lena deserved to be here at this moment you thought. there was no way that you weren’t going to support her beside her family, 

“so, how long are you supposed to be off the pitch?” you looked over to see lena’s father speak to you, his german accent stronger than lena’s. the first half of the final ended and it's nil-nil and it could be anyone’s game. 

you wore a black brace around your leg where the injury occurred, so you figured that he was talking about that. 

“oh, i won’t be playing until the start of next season. so a couple of months– i have a grade 2 tear in my hamstring.” you respond, smiling as lena’s father nodded his head in understanding. 

“you’ll be back out there soon!” lena’s mother spoke with encouragement. you smiled, happy that your girlfriend had sweet parents that treat you as if you were their own. 

after talking to her family for longer, the start of the second half comes along. you’re anxious as both teams are keeping possession with the ball. 

watching other teams in person is making you miss being out on the pitch playing. 

all thoughts aside, your jaw drops as you watch ella toone from england put the ball in at the 62nd minute. 

lena got a yellow card moments before for a tackle on your friend, georgia, who is coming to bayern soon. so, lena was already in a disappointed mood before this moment. 

as the substitutes for germany and england were starting to come on, you started to feel anxious. you hated this feeling for teams that aren’t your own, but this happens everytime you invest a couple of hours into watching others– especially your girlfriend who you want to see with the euro trophy. 

when lina magul scored the equalizer for germany, you put your hands up and clapped as you witnessed the german girls huddle around in a big group hug. 

“come on obi!” you whisper to yourself, hoping that this was a fairytale where lena would score the winner for her country.  

unfortunately for you, germany’s team, and the fans– chloe kelly taps the ball into the net in the 110th minute– giving england the lead in extra time. 

deep down, you knew that was it. you looked ahead at lena with sadness in your eyes. however, you wanted to keep hope. 

after the game, seeing lena accept the young player award with tears in her eyes broke your heart. this is something that you’ve never gone through before from the outside, since usually you are the player that needs the comfort of a non-player after a loss.

after thirty minutes of the award process– with the hard watch of england lifting the trophy you wanted lena to lift– lena pushed herself to walk towards her family and you. 

at first, you thought she was going to go to her parents for a hug. you stepped back as you made sure that her parents were slightly in front of you. 

lena, with dried tears on her face, looked at you and held her hands out. being at the front row before the field, you accepted her embrace– holding her with as much as possible. 

she picks you up and pulls you over the barcade, making sure that your leg would be okay, so you’re standing on the pitch now. 

“i know you might not want to hear this right now– but you did amazing throughout the tournament. i am so proud of you.” you whisper into her ear. 

her strong arms squeeze your waist, a silent thank you that you’ll take it as. she holds you for another minute, knowing that what she needs is your love and reassurance. 

as you lift her head up from your shoulder to look at you, she frowns as she closes her eyes. another tear flows down her cheeks but you’re quick to wipe it away– 

“hey! don’t beat yourself up. you were the best player of the tournament, and i’m not just saying that because i’m your girlfriend.” you reassure. 

you know what lena is thinking– what did i do wrong? was there anything else i could’ve done? did the yellow card send the team into failure? those thoughts were not unfamiliar to you when you lost games, but you’ve never played in a euros final.

“danke.” she smiles slightly. 

part three here

<3

[nycorix]

just remembered these and they aged so much better than I expected lol

HAPPY 2/22/22 TO THE NKS-VERSE FANDOM LOL. I decided extremely last-minute (read: yesterday) to do a lil mini-project in honor of 22 and arospec week!! So here's a three part oneshot feat. 22/the ghost + platonic intimacy with 06 / Mal / Wasp in that order 🥲🥲🥲

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear (XIX)

The blood of the Covenant

Part one // Masterpost // continued from here

It's a day late but listen I just discovered jujutsu kaisen and wowza - I have never related more to a character than Satoru Gojo and the forced self-awareness I now have to endure bc all the other characters are just constantly criticising him - for good reasons ofc but like, I don't need the personal attack? Anyways! ENJOY

~*~*~*~*~*~

The moment Kit’s eyes lazily fluttered open he wanted to shut them again. There was no haziness to the morning, no brief reprieve of waking where there are no thoughts and you exist in a limbo state: halfway between dreaming and consciousness.

No. Not even the incredibly comfortable bed could provide a respite from his mind.

Kit didn’t get any of that.

The first thing that greeted him when he opened his eyes was Ambrose telling him that there was a telekinetic Villain in the city. And the only telekinetic hero Kit knew of was Mentor. There was Sawyer with his shadows too, but that Villain wasn’t Sawyer. Kit knew the coldness of his shadows.

Not to mention the strange thing happening with his own powers around Ambrose. It seemed like all fucking roads just lead back to Ambrose.

Kit had to get out of bed. He had to go downstairs and face Ambrose. He had to watch the news and see the scale of Ment— Villain’s— destruction. He had to call Superhero and try to ignore the feeling in his gut that told him this Villain — whoever he was — was actually Supervillain making an appearance for the first time.

His stomach turned as his mind linked Supervillain and Mentor together, but he couldn’t stop the thought from forming. He couldn’t seem to stop anything lately.

Kit clenched his teeth as he pushed himself up and out of bed. His socked feet touched soft carpet like a cloud and tension seemed to leave his body at the feeling. Ambrose may be a rich, entitled prick, but if Kit could wake up to these carpets every morning maybe he would be too.

He stretched, his limbs cracking as he woke them up. The exhaustion from yesterday’s overused powers had dissipated overnight, leaving Kit a bit more refreshed than usual. Actually, no. Not refreshed. He felt great! Normal. Aside from a mild headache but there was no bone deep tiredness in his limbs.

It felt strange, but in a good way. He clicked his fingers and a small blue bolt formed between them. Before he could be relieved, the bolt sparked violently, red tongues of lightning forked out of the blue until Kit dropped the charge.

Shit.

Kit walked out of the room, and opened a few doors before he found a bathroom. Ignoring the luxury of the room, Kit froze in the doorway. A mirror hung above the sink and reflected Kit’s bright red eyes back at him.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Kit muttered, half-running to the mirror and pulling his eyelids down. “Stop it. Stop it. Snap out of it!”

Kit slapped himself in the face and checked again but nothing. He turned the tap on, maybe he just needed to splash some water in his face. Yeah. That was it.

The water was cool over his fingertips and refreshing as it splashed his face, but when he looked up again all he saw was red. Kit slammed his hand down on the edge of the sink, glaring at his own face in the mirror.

This was all Ambrose’s fault! Before him Kit’s powers were under control! Always under control, but now… this thing with his eyes it made him sick. His electricity was supposed to be blue not red.

“Fuck!” Kit cried, smashing his fist against the edge of the sink again. “Stupid!” Punch. “Fucking.” Punch. “GAAH!” Punch. Punch. Punch.

Ambrose paused with his mug halfway to his lips in the kitchen, hearing a slight commotion upstairs. Mallory must be awake. Then slow, heavy footsteps not even an elephant would make down the stairs.

Kit got to the end of the staircase and looked right and left. The two halls looked identical, both grand and leading different directions. Kit just wanted a coffee… he trudged to the left, trusting his instincts.

From his right, he heard Ambrose: “in here, Mallory.”

Kit was about to throw a tantrum like a toddler, but instead he walked past the staircase and town the hall to the right. On his left he saw a kitchen from some ostentatious show house, like something you’d see on TV, but he ignored it and focused on the Villain sitting at the kitchen island.

His black eyes glinting with amusement as Kit stormed in, going straight for the kettle. Or well, he would’ve gone straight for the kettle had his knees not hit the floor with an echoing thud.

Kit hissed. “What the fuck?”

Ambrose frowned where he sat and stood, walking around the counter to see the hero on his knees in just his boxer shorts and t-shirt, staring up at Ambrose with wide red eyes glowing.

“Morning.” Ambrose said, then a smile came to his lips which bubbled into a laugh at the hero’s confusion. “Oh, I completely forgot.”

“Forgot what?” Kit snapped, trying to move his legs back and stand but he couldn’t. His knees were glued to the floor as if all gravity had amassed in his kneecaps that now seemed to weigh ten tonnes.

“God it seems so faraway now,” Ambrose murmured, being the cryptic fuck that he was.

Small streaks of electricity cackled from Kit’s eyes. “Forgot what?” He asked through clenched teeth. “In case you didn’t know, Rosey, I’m not exactly a morning person, so if you could undo whatever the fuck you’ve done, I’d appreciate it.”

“But you look so good on your knees,” Ambrose told him, reaching a hand out and ruffling Kit’s hair until Kit slapped his hand away. “Like a good puppy.”

“Oh fuck off, dickhead! Let me up.”

Ambrose’s black eyes danced with amusement. “Only if you ask nicely.”

Kit rolled his eyes. “Oh fuck off. I’m just going to fucking crawl I guess.”

“Ki—it,” Ambrose sing-songed, his voice moving like flute notes through his ears. He recognised the coldness of Ambrose’s powers pulling at his mind, the threat of what he could do.

Kit huffed out a breath. Crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t look at Ambrose as he mumbled: “can I get up?”

“What was that?” Ambrose asked, putting his hand to his ear like a pre-school teacher. “I couldn’t hear you over the coffee brewing.”

Red eyes snapped to black. “Can I get up? Please?!”

“Of course you can get up Kit.”

This time when Kit moved his legs, his knees didn’t keep him rooted to the spot.

“Dick,” he muttered under his breath, forcing himself not to shoulder check the villain as he passed him on the way to the kettle. “Can you undo whatever that is?”

Ambrose hummed. “I’ll have to get back to you on that. It was a measure to teach you manners.”

Fuck off, Kit thought venomously. I just want a coffee. Kit didn’t answer as he zeroed in on the kettle, and plugged it in.

“Oh, I already made a pot of coffee,” Ambrose said. Kit glanced over his shoulder at Ambrose, stare hard. Ambrose gestured to the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen and Kit was about to throw a fit. He wanted to throw the kettle at the man’s head, but he knew he just needed a coffee and then he’d be fine. So he restrained himself and walked to the coffee pot.

The smell of the coffee went straight to his heart. “Is this… drip coffee?” He asked as he poured the black liquid into the cup that was set out for him.

Ambrose scoffed behind him. “I know you’re used to living in squalor, Mallory, but I don’t keep instant coffee in the house.”

“Wow. I’m not complaining,” Kit said, turning to the island and going to sit beside Ambrose. “I mean, I don’t live in squalor, but drip coffee would be nice every morning.”

Ambrose’s black eyes went to Kit’s face as he sat into the stool. Kit was too busy looking at his bare legs to notice. “I forgot my trousers,” he grumbled, feeling the tips of his ears going pink.

Ambrose waved the comment away. “I’m sure you had more pressing issues this morning?”

Kit raised his pained gaze to Ambrose. Black eyes searched Kit’s red ones with a mildly contained annoyance. “I was hoping there wouldn’t be any lingering effects of yesterday.”

“Lingering effects?” Kit repeated incredulously. “Lingering effects?! Oh I’m sorry if my overworked powers are inconveniencing you in any way, Ambrose. I’m so sorry—”

Ambrose waved him away. “Okay, you’re being dramatic.”

While Kit continued speaking over him, sarcasm dripping from every syllable: “so very, devastatingly, sorry that my powers are all out of whack because a fucking sadistic piece of shit just loves to push me until I can’t go further.”

“Apology accepted.”

Kit scoffed, shaking his head and took another gulp of his coffee. Fuck it tasted so good, it almost made him calm down. Almost.

“But the fact of the matter is we have more pressing issues.”

A sardonic smile slid its way onto Kit’s lips, resting his chin in the palm of his hand and gesturing between them. “What is this “we” you speak of?” He asked, red eyes alight with amusement.

“Mentor, Kit. I’m talking about Mentor.”

Kit’s face dropped as he straightened. “What is this we you speak of?” He repeated tightly.

“Mallory—”

“No,” Kit spat venomously, running a hand through his hair. “No, I am not talking about Mentor with the person who destroyed his mind for fun. No. We’re not doing this.”

“Kit— it’s important, we need—”

“STOP SAYING WE!” Kit roared, slamming his hands down on the table. Red sparks erupting around him as his anger grew. He wanted to smile at the look of fear that flashed across Ambrose’s face as the electricity spit and spewed around him, like a thousand hungry tongues hissing at the air around them.

“There is no we, Ambrose.” Kit continued, his voice echoing slightly with static as if he were speaking through an old radio. “There has never been a we. The only thing that joins you and me is Mentor, and that’s a very thin line because you didn’t know about our connection until what? This week?! You have no fucking right to speak to me about—”

“Mentor is my father.”

The silence would have been deafening if Kit’s electricity didn’t stutter and stop with a pathetic jolts like an old man’s fart. Kit’s mind screeched to a stop with a record scratch, before running ten miles a second because what the fuck did Ambrose just fucking say?!

Kit just stared as Ambrose clenched his hands into fists and loosened them again, repeating the gesture as if he were reaching for something he couldn’t quite touch. It felt as if Kit’s eyelids were torn with how wide they stared at the villain in front of him because this was some fucking sick joke, right?!

“It’s not a joke,” Ambrose said quietly, a wry smile on his face when Kit’s immediate thought was: get out of my head. “It’s not a joke, Kit. I wish it were.”

“You’re—” Kit began, but didn’t have enough breath in his lungs to finish the sentence, his eyes prickling with tears that he refused to let fall. “You… you’re lying. There’s no… you don’t even—”

Kit wasn’t making sense. They were all half formed thoughts spilling from lips as he wondered whether he should kill Ambrose where he stood now, or later.

“You don’t even share the same last name,” Kit settled on, his mind reeling. Ambrose met his eyes finally and Kit wished he hadn’t. He didn’t want to see the vulnerable humanity lingering in Ambrose’s black gaze, the hard tilt to his brows. The confession seemed to strip Ambrose of everything that him, well… Ambrose, and left a man, no a boy, not much older than Kit sitting before him. “You don’t even look alike! You’re not— you can’t be—”

Ambrose sucked in a breath through his nose, burying his face in his palms and rubbing his eyes. “I can show you my birth certificate if you’d like.”

Kit sprung to his feet because he didn’t know what else to do. His body was wired — no alive — with a restless energy that he couldn’t quell or control and the only way he could do something about it was somehow related to jumping off the stool.

“You— you! There’s— you can’t be Mentor’s son! Mentor didn’t— doesn’t have a family!”

Ambrose scoffed, running his hands down his face until they settled around his cup in front of him, his gaze distant. “He would say that.”

“You’re lying.”

Ambrose turned his head to face Kit, though he didn’t really look at him. More like through him. A wry smile pulled at the edges of his eyes.

“Believe it or not, Kit. The fact remains the same.” Ambrose took a sip of his coffee or tea or whatever, while Kit just stood uselessly staring at Ambrose and trying to logic a way to this being some joke, or ruse. “I wish it wasn’t true either.”

“You— you—” Kit stuttered, his hands balling into fists at his sides. Ambrose widened his eyes slightly, raising a placating hand towards Kit.

“Hey, Kit. Calm down.”

Don’t tell me to calm down, Kit wanted to say but he couldn’t get the words out. He couldn’t stop shaking, his entire body felt as if he just drank a vat full of caffeine and it wanted to go, go, go. It was as if someone had just jump-started every nerve in his body, every muscle contracting, every blood cell oxygenated and his body felt far too small as everything seemed to constrict inside of him and there wasn’t enough space and his veins felt ready to burst and—

“HEY! KIT!” Ambrose screamed from far, far below Kit. He wondered distantly what was happening, why Ambrose felt so far away. Why Kit felt like he couldn’t breathe and yet never felt more alive at the same time. “FUCK!”

KIT PLEASE! STOP! Ambrose cried in his mind, but there was no power behind his words. It wasn’t a command, which Kit recognised was strange. Ambrose wasn’t one for allowing free will and all.

Still, there was something wrong. Something very wrong with this picture and Kit couldn’t quite put his finger on what. Every time he tried to narrow it down, the thought ran like water through his fingers and he couldn’t really feel his own body anymore.

Kit crashed down to reality when his head cracked off the tile and he groaned. Ambrose was on the floor beside him, far enough away that the sparks didn’t reach him that were still spluttering from Kit’s body, but why was he on the floor?

“Kit? You with me?” Ambrose asked, black eyes wide with… that couldn’t be concern, not in Ambrose’s eyes. Kit must be hallucinating. Maybe this was all just a dream, a terrible bad dream and he would wake up and everything would be fine.

Instead, Kit groaned in pain, trying to push himself up. His muscles wouldn’t listen though and just shook uselessly beside him, not supporting his weight.

“Kit, talk to me, please.”

“Shut… up… dick.”

“You just thrashed my kitchen, Kit, I think I’m allowed to speak to you.”

Kit blinked, rolling onto his back. “I— what?”

Ambrose didn’t have to answer for Kit to see the scorch marks in the ceiling of his perfect kitchen, or the cracks in the shapes of lichtenberg figures in the walls. Kit winced, glancing at Ambrose who looked to be lost in concentration.

“Ambrose… I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“I know.”

“No,” Kit protested, raising his hands in front of his face. They sparked and hissed like Kit was in overdrive, hooked up to his own nuclear reactor, a steady stream of small bolts charging the air around his palms. “I’m not doing this.”

Ambrose nodded, tapping his temple with his index finger. “I know,” he said again, and got to his feet. “The best thing I can think to do is the power dampeners.”

Kit sat up with an effort, pressing his back against a counter in Ambrose’s ridiculously massive kitchen. “Did they work?”

“No, knocking you out, worked. Though I doubt you want to do that every time this happens.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Well, then. Power dampeners it is.” Ambrose said with a breath. “Does the circuit still close if you wear the two of them on one hand?”

Kit shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t tried it. Usually when you’re catching criminals you want their hands bound too.”

“Hmm, I assume it would work the same. Only one way to find out, right?”

Kit nodded, pushing himself to his feet. Only then did he see the real extent of the damage he did. The stools were scattered around the room, appliances ripped out of sockets. Half of the kettle was melded to the door of the microwave, the microwave itself looked like a crushed aluminium can.

Kit glanced down at his fingers, at the red lightning. Did he really do all this without realising?

His mind went back to his Academy days, when he had first arrived and was only learning how emotions tied to his abilities. It was Superhero who sat down with him and taught him that in order to master his gift, he had to cut off the link between his emotions and his abilities, or he wouldn’t get anywhere as a hero.

This red lightning, it seemed, burrowed all the way down to Kit’s emotions — his negative emotions — anger, rage, hatred, confusion. How could he stop something he could barely recognise the warning signs of?

“Don’t think too much about it, Mallory. Let’s just do one thing at a time. The power dampeners.”

Kit nodded. “Right. The power dampeners.” He repeated, glancing down at his bare legs. “And trousers.”

Ambrose smiled. “Yeah. Might be a good idea.”

Kit walked back out of the kitchen, when by the door Ambrose stopped him again. “Kit, if you want fresh clothes, feel free.”

Kit stopped in the door, glancing over his shoulder at Ambrose who looked mildly embarrassed at the offer. It was a strange thing to see on him. He didn’t quite meet Kit’s eye, his hand wound tight around the back of a chair, while the other brought the mug to his lips.

Kit could tease the villain about it. Usually he would, but he felt gross and shit, so he just nodded. “Cheers.”

Ambrose raised his head, meeting Kit’s eyes and nodded slightly. Then Kit took off down the hall and up the ridiculous stairs and into the first room he found last night. He wanted a shower, he decided when he picked his jacket off the ground, taking the power dampeners from his pocket and tossing them on the bed.

Something to relax his muscles and clear his head. That would be heavenly right about now. Kit grabbed his jeans and threw them on the bed too. He bunched a fistful of his shirt and brought it to his nose, and winced at the smell. Yep, okay. He needed a shower.

He turned in the room, taking it in for the first time. It was huge, as was everything in this stupid house. He walked to the wardrobe that was tucked into the corner of the room, opening the doors. He expected suits and tailored trousers, but was pleasantly surprised when he saw a couple of old hoodies hung up. One of them an old Harvard sweatshirt that had the initials O. Ambrose embroidered into the chest.

It felt like important information, but Kit didn’t really care. His mind racing with the fact that Ambrose was somehow related to Mentor. His son? Why wouldn’t he tell Kit that he had a son? Why weren’t there any pictures or mentions of him ever?

It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense.

Kit sighed, closing the doors to the wardrobe and opening the long door beside it. Inside were shelves of t-shirts and sweatpants and jocks and socks.

Kit took what he needed and walked to the bathroom, searching for towels before he locked the door.

“Mallory,” Ambrose said from outside.

Kit walked over to the door to see Ambrose outside, two towels in his hand. “Oh. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Kit grabbed them and closed the door, locking it and turning on the shower. He ignored the flash of red he saw in the mirror. He stripped and stepped into the shower, and almost gasped at the pressure of the water drumming down on his shoulders and head.

It was so good. Better than a hotel’s pressure good, better than Kit’s shitty apartment shower anyways. He let out a long, soft sigh of relief as he felt the rushing hot water unwind the knots and pressure in his muscles. He could die under the water and he would die happy.

He washed the memories of the last day away. God was it only a day? The stress from work and Superhero’s babying treatment of him after his illness, mixing with the pains of being with Ambrose for any amount of time.

Kit rubbed his neck and collarbone where Ambrose had choked him yesterday, still feeling a phantom tie wrapped around his throat like a weighted shadow. His gaze trailed down to his arms where the cuts Ambrose had forced him to make were glaring up at him. They had scabbed over at this point, almost healing. The scabs turned yellowish-green under the water, then a purple red beneath it.

All this pain, all this… abuse Ambrose had subjected him too. Was this the price for meeting Mentor? He knew it was too good to be true when Mentor chose him, out of everyone in his year, to personally apprentice under.

The man who little by little, wore down his walled defences while building his strength and magic and confidence. Who made sure he ate everyday, who taught him the value of nutrition and how to make a proper cup of tea…

Kit slammed his fist against the tiles of the shower, hot tears mixing with the water on his face. Ambrose was a monster. He couldn’t be related to Mentor. Mentor… Mentor was a saint. He saved the entire city!

He trusted Kit!

Why wouldn’t he tell him that he had a son? Why keep it secret?! Especially someone as powerful as Ambrose, you’d think he would scream it from the rooftops.

But… but… Mentor was alone when he chose Kit. No trace of a family anywhere in his house, no other heroes mentioned it. He was alone, like Kit, and they made a family together. With each other.

Kit knew it was true, that it was real. It was the only thing he had ever been sure of in his life, so why! Kit banged his fist against the tiles again. Why was there an ache in his chest as if his heart was poisoned?! Why was there a voice in the back of his head that sadly told him that Ambrose wasn’t lying?!

Why!

Why!

Why!

Why!

Why?!

Maybe Mentor was the villain from last night. Maybe Kit never really knew him at all. Maybe Mentor only trusted him with a very small part of his life.

Either way Ambrose had the answers. Kit needed to face them, no matter how painful they would no doubt be, to hear him out.

He scoffed, sniffing. “Listen to yourself,” he muttered to the tiles, his voice uncharacteristically empty. “Hearing Ambrose out? What’s wrong with you?”

Kit sniffed, wiping the snot from his face. “Pathetic.”

He glanced to the shelf in the shower and grabbed the shower gel, staring at the bottle. It wasn’t a 3in1. Kit raised his eyes again to see other bottles in the shower. Kit stared. His brain buffering as his hand reached out to grab another bottle.

Shampoo.

Fancy looking shampoo.

Ambrose just wasted his money on fucking everything didn’t he? Was his toilet paper sheet gold?

Kit shrugged, putting the shower gel back and squeezed out some shampoo onto his hand. It smelled good. It smelled fancy.

Kit quickly showered and dried himself, wrapping the towel around his waist as he walked out to his room. Kit changed into a new t-shirt he borrowed from Ambrose and pulled on his jeans and jacket and runners.

The power dampeners he fastened around his right wrist, feeling his powers immediately diminish. When he locked the second one around the same wrist he snapped his fingers on his left hand. Nothing.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

One problem down.

He pocketed the key and left the room. Ambrose was standing in his kitchen, also dressed, his hair wet from a shower. Ambrose wore a loose sweatshirt that looked soft and black cargo pants that tucked into his boots.

Kit held up his hand triumphantly as he fell to his knees. “The power dampeners worked.”

Ambrose raised his head from an iPad, one eyebrow quirked in amusement. “And you have pants.”

“Mission successful!” Kit beamed, not caring that he was still compelled to kneel in front of Ambrose like some servant to a king.

“Good.” Ambrose said with a nod, sliding the iPad across the counter top. “You can stand, Kit. I have some bad news.”

Kit groaned, pulling himself to his feet. “What now?”

The frustration died in his throat when he saw the headlines: Water Hero kidnapped by new Supervillain, Superhero reports.

“What?” Kit asked with a breath, looking at Ambrose. “What is this?”

Ambrose stood with his arms across his chest, a hand on his mouth as he shrugged with one shoulder. “That villain last night—”

“But why would he take her?” He said “he” instead of Mentor because his brain didn’t equate the two. “That doesn’t make any sense!”

“I don’t know.”

“There has to be a reason?” Kit demanded, scrolling through the article.

“I already checked,” Ambrose said with a shake of his head. He waited patiently until Kit fact checked that there was no mention of why the villain took her. Kit turned his sad eyes to Ambrose again, putting the iPad on the counter. “I think we need to go see Mentor.”

Kit deflated at the suggestion. He knew that this was coming. That eventually they’d have to go and see Mentor and check to see if he really is — if he could be…

Fuck.

Kit didn’t want to think about it.

He steeled his expression and his resolve. “Fine. You can explain everything on the way.”

Ambrose nodded stiffly, not fond of sharing his past with the Hero, but maybe, it was time to share everything, especially if that new supervillain is Mentor.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @beatenbruisedandbloody @404lunar1216 @whumpyworld @nameless-beanie @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer r @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @acer-gaysimpstuff @m3rakii @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom @blood-enthusiast @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @andtheysaidspeaknoww @dutifullykrispyland @mononeigbour @tippytappytyping @stefaniesblogs @shinokoro @bedtimescenarios @whatwhump

[skyesdaisys]

character's i write for

welcome to my list of characters where i have many of them from many fandoms that i write for

requests: open currently (just wanna try writing again)

bolded names are ones i really wanna write for

yellowjackets (shauna shipman, jackie taylor, lottie matthews, taissa turner, van palmer, nat scatorccio, laura lee, callie sadecki)

dc titans (dick grayson, jason todd, kory anders, gar logan, donna troy, dawn granger, hank hall)

fear street (deena johnson, sam fraser, ziggy berman, cindy berman, kate schmidt, alice hart, simon kalivoda, tommy slater, young!nick goode)

teen wolf (scott mccall, stiles stilinski, isaac lahey, malia tate, kira yukimura, lydia martin, liam dunbar)

american horror story (violet harmon, kit walker, lana winters, zoe benson, madison montgomery, kyle spencer, misty day, cordelia goode, jimmy darling, tristan duffy, ally mayfair-richards, kai anderson, winter anderson, mallory, brooke thompson, montana duke)

the summer I turned pretty (jeremiah fisher, belly conklin, taylor jewel, shayla wang, conrad fisher)

gossip girl (nate archibald, dan humphrey, blair waldorf, jenny humphrey, serena van der woodsen, vanessa abrams)

miscellaneous: maeve rojas (one of us is lying), leighton murray (the sex lives of college girls), miguel diaz (cobra kai), brooke davis (one tree hill), maeve wiley & ruby matthews (sex education), kate bishop (hawkeye), roronoa zoro (one piece live action), daisy johnson (agents of shield), zach dempsey (13 reasons why)

another thing i'd like to add, i wouldn't mind writing poly ships x reader like dickkory, jackieshauna, stalia, sameena, lottienat, jaygar, etc. (or a poly ship with crossover characters like dick grayson & kate bishop for example)

i will write for fluff, angst, and maybe smut (there's only so much i am comfortable with though) if you ask nicely. and i only write for fem & gn readers

and as a reminder, you guys can request for the following fandoms for oneshots, headcanons, or just sending your fluffy or horny thoughts in my inbox (i don't judge)

[shouts-into-the-void]

Some of My Favorite Webcomic Characters and Why:

Austen - Always Human by Walkingnorth

Your average college student experience—stressed out to the point of breaking but refusing to acknowledge it because of the societal pressure to stick with a career choice you made before you were old enough to pay taxes. The first time I'd ever been able to fully project myself onto a character. Heavily relate to crying or anger as a reaction to all strong emotions.

Lakka - Shoot Around

Ran around post-zombie apocalypse singing about her crush while killing zombies with her bare hands. Got completely blindsided by all of her friends deciding to split off to do their own thing, and then became a fashion designer about it. And got the girl in the end.

Juliette - The Beast of Hadingly Hill by HoratioMarissa

I don't know if I can put into words how much I adore her. She's adorable, protective of her girlfriend attendant. Immediately threatens to fire anyone who even looks at Mallory wrong. And she's a monster?? Everyone is being waaaaay to mean about her appearance, btw.

Brahm - A Spell For A Smith by ArtSasquatch

World's Most Respectful Man. His dynamic with Ivy and dedication to making her feel comfortable is adorable. I love when male characters with a tragic backstory are allowed to be kind and decent to other people instead of getting the Manwha ML treatment.

Michaelis - Clinic of Horrors by Merryweather and PokuriMio

Literally just wants to go to school. The greatest friend ever, would NOT let you be brainwashed into joining a cult run by a fungal infection piloting a dead body. Black hair, red eyes, and a monster??? Hello??? He fills all the requirements, guys!

A/Apollo/Avery - Seemingly Dark by RaptorJules

Looks Squishy. His dynamic with Rose is cute. Idk, he vibes like someone you want to wrap in blankets and give hot chocolate to and that sort of kicked-puppy energy appeals to me. Also whatever tragic backstory he's got going on has to be, like, The Tragic Backstory Ever and I don't even know what it is yet.

Eulalie - Nevermore by Kate Flynn and Kit Trace

The random trivia and occult facts?? The head-empty energy despite clearly being very intelligent? We are the same person. Her Spector having the ability to take away other people's Spectors has so much narrative potential and pretty much means she solos everyone. Also purple hair, eccentric personality, and potentially sapphic? She fills all of the requirements, guys!

[drewlyyours]

THE HAUNTING OF CASTLE MALLOY FANCAST

ND #19

Kyler Mallory - Karen Gillan

Kit Foley - Colin O'Donoghue

Donal Delaney - Christopher Lloyd

Matt Simmons - Alfred Enoch

Fiona Malloy - Ruth Connell

when a mortal hears the wail of a banshee, it means someone is about to die

MHM, TRT, FIN, SSH, DOG, CAR, DDI, SHA, CUR, CLK, TRN, DAN, CRE, ICE, CRY, VEN

[eclecticqueennerd]

Confessions

*An AU but not too far off from what we are familiar with. Becca doesn’t exist and Reader has a secret that she hasn’t told anyone. This is my first fanfic on Tumblr.*

Triggers: r*pe, a*ortion, mild violence, confession, angst, alcohol consumption, language

Part 1

Everyone filed into the dirty, musky hideout exhausted from today’s mission. The intel was shit and wasn’t enough to take down Homelander or Vought. As Frenchie, Kimiko, MM went into their assigned rooms, Hughie bid everyone goodbye before heading to his apartment with Annie. Butcher stomped over to the kitchen table and began skimming through multiple manilla folders that lay sprawled out. As the minutes ticked by, you could tell by the expression on Butchers face that he was getting progressively angry, his fists slamming on the kitchen table confirmed it. You approached him and placed a hand on this shoulder. He turned around and the eyes filled with fury softened as soon as they peered into yours. You saw there was a sizeable gash around the outer arch of his left eyebrow, blood trickling down his face.

“What the hell! Where did you get that?” you asked him, gently grabbing his face, and taking a closer look. Butcher just shrugged and replied,

“One of them cunts had a knife. Didn’t think it was that bad.”

“Well looks like you need stiches. Sit.”

“I’m not a fuckin dog y/n. You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Sit!” You raised your voice while looking as sternly as you could while pointing to the chair next to the kitchen table. Butcher plopped down and began pouting, crossing his arms over his chest. You walked over to the cabinets above the fridge and pulled out a first aid kit. Walking back over, you pulled out gloves, suture, a small bottle of iodine, a pair of needle holders and a forcep. Grabbing a paper towel located on the table, you clean the wound with iodine and begin suturing. Butcher let out a hiss.

“Fuckin hell could you be more careful? Fuckin hurts.”

“Don’t be such a baby. I’m sure you’ve had worse.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure those small hands are capable of being a lot softer than what your doin’ now luv.”

“Butcher I am being as soft as I can be. You should count yourself lucky it didn’t get any closer to your eye.” You said as you continued suturing.

Before joining The Boys, you were an officer in the United States Army as a Field Surgeon, so you knew the ins and outs of the human body. You joined The Boys after Grace Mallory found you sobbing and cradling your dead husband in a back alley after a supe brutally killed him. You were only 3 days back home from a yearlong deployment. Grace knew how to play into your hatred towards the supes, and that’s how you ended up with the motley crew. You got along with everyone but the person you got along most with was Billy Butcher, and dare you say he was gentler with you than others. The shared hatred the two of you had for supes and the lengths you would go to extract your revenge is what made the pair of you a match made in heaven. A match which neither of you confessed your feelings towards the other. Butcher opened to you about his past when he trusted no one else. He told you about his abusive father and the great lengths he would go to protect his little brother, Lenny. He told you how Homelander killed Lenny and that he hopes to take down those cunts in the tower.

You finished the last stitch and placed the utensils onto the kitchen table. You wiped up the remaining blood on Butchers face, hands shaking as you went. Butcher uncrossed his arms and watched your every step. You removed the latex gloves and inspected your handiwork, as gently as you could turning his head slightly.

“There. All better now. Now don’t pick at it otherwise you’ll have an ugly scar on this beautiful mug.” You flirt halfheartedly. Butcher reached his hands out and wrapped them around yours. Your focus went from the fixed skin to his soft hazel eyes. Your heart began to thud in your chest as you grew more nervous.

“Why you shakin’ luv? You weren’t hurt me.” Butcher spoke softly. You stood like that, eyes locked, for what felt like forever, inching closer and closer. Butcher then snaked one of his hands behind your head and leaned forward. He closed his eyes and started to pucker his lips for a kiss.

What could have been a romantic moment that confirmed the mutual feelings, turned into full panic mode. You promptly pulled back and placed the tips of your fingers on Butchers lips, pushing him away. Butcher’s eyes went wide, and he dropped his hands.

“I thought the feeling was mutual. Sorry.” You could hear the disappointment in his voice as his eyes dropped to the floor. Your heart broke.

 “I’m not good enough for you.” You replied quickly. Butcher’s eyes went as big as dinner plates as he again made eye contact with you.

“What? Where’d you get that idea? It’s me not good enough for you.”

“No… no Butcher I’m not good enough for you.”

“What’s gotcha thinkin’ this hm?” You almost spilled your guts right then and there. But what you were about to tell him, you knew he needed a drink or two or three or the whole damn bottle. You went to grab 2 glasses and a bottle of whiskey. You approached Butcher and handed him an empty glass. Then you poured the whiskey into the glasses and promptly drank yours. Butcher looked at you suspiciously as he sipped his drink. You poured yourself another one.

 “You’ll want to drink that before I tell you what I’m about to tell you.” Butcher knocked back the glass and set it on the table. You refilled it and gave him an expectant look. After the second glass of whiskey was consumed, you took a deep breath and confessed.

 “I’m a supe.” Butcher paused. He narrowed his eyes and said menacingly,

“You wha?”

“I’ll start from the beginning. You remember that time when Homelander kidnapped me?” You were practically vibrating with nerves in the chair across from Butcher. If it were anyone else, you’re almost certain Butcher would have blown up and placed a bullet in their head.

“Yeah. Just about one of the worst days of me life.”

“We’ll he took me to the tower and kept me in the lab under heavy watch. He said that he wanted to punish you for coming after him, after Vought. At first, I thought that he was going to kill me, but he… they… injected me with Compound V.” Butcher was silent as he stared at the table, digesting what you were telling him.

“He kept me there for a few days to make sure that my vitals were okay, and that I wasn’t going to die. He then took me to this cabin in the woods. While there he got into his head that he was going to keep me to breed the ‘best superhuman’. He… he kept…” you trailed off as flashbacks to Homelander forcing himself on you came flooding into your memory. You continued,

“He raped me. Multiple times. He left one day for a meeting in the tower and left me alone. I was still guarded but they must’ve been new hires cuz they fought like shit. When I finally found my opening, I escaped. I have no idea how long time passed but it felt like eternity. I couldn’t go to you. I was afraid you’d hate me for what I became. I hate myself for what I am. I went to Grace, and she took mercy on me. She took me under her wing and kept me hidden in the compound outside New York. There, I found out I was pregnant.” Butcher started bobbing his leg up and down while brushing his beard. He then said gruffly,

 “And the baby?”

“Gone. Had it removed as soon as I knew. I actually made it so I can’t any children… with anyone.” Butcher’s eyes met yours. His eyes were filled with fury.

“You told me you were gone training. You lied to me.”

“I did train once my body recovered. I learned what my abilities are and how to keep them in check. You gotta believe me, I wanted to tell you, but I was scared of what you would do. Please… Billy.” You reached a handout to his and he yanked his body away from yours.

“Who else knows?!” Butcher roared.

“Just you and Grace.” A long silence fell between the two of you. Butcher then grabbed the bottle of whiskey and stormed out of the hideout. Tears began filling your eyes as your heart sank into your stomach. This man you were incredibly close with, had feelings for, would give your life for, just walked out on you. MM and Frenchie came out of their rooms to investigate what was going on. They spotted you curled up on the chair, weeping. Frenchie rushed towards you and placed his hands on your shoulders.

 “Mon cher what is wrong?” MM approached the table and sat down in the place Butcher left open. You wiped the tears from your face and looked at the two men. You need to tell them, you thought.

“What did that asshole do?” MM asked you. You took a shaky but deep breath.

“I told him… I’m a supe.” Both MM and Frenchie exchanged looks. MM then grabbed your hand and said,

“Go on.”