#like genuinely what is going on here. is he a fucking kite

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Feel like making people miserable today. Anyways, here's Gon experiencing like. Textbook symptoms of trauma in the CAA, in case there was any lingering doubt about this or anything:

Initial denial that the experience happened or was traumatic

[ID: A screenshot from episode 85 of HxH 2011. Gon, eyes bright and with a smile, says "Kite is alive!" End ID.]

Flashbacks

[ID: Two screenshots from episode 95, and a third from episode 110. In the first, Kite's arm is shown in the foreground, bleeding and blurred. In the second, a close of Pitou's wide eyes, looking animalistic. In the last, puppet Kite's mangled and scarred face stares emptily ahead - the scene is greyed out. End ID.]

Intense distress at real or symbolic reminders of the trauma

[ID: Two screenshots from episode 116. In the first, Gon's fist can be seen in the foreground, with Pitou shielding an unconscious Komugi just barely seen. The narrator says "The girl lying before them brought back". In the second, Komugi has a medical respirator on. The narrator continues "images of a broken Kite to Gon's mind". End ID.]

Physical sensations such as pain, sweating, nausea or trembling

[ID: A screenshot from episode 116. Gon's fists slam into the ground as he says "That isn't fair...". Sweat drips down his arms. End ID.]

Extreme alertness/hypervigilance

[ID: A screenshot from episode 116. Part of Pitou can be seen in the foreground as Gon stares at them intensely, crouched on the ground with his arm resting on his knee, obscuring his lower face. End ID.]

Angry outbursts or other extreme behaviour

[ID: Two screenshots, one from episode 116, and the other from episode 127. In the first, Gon shouts "Is something wrong with you?!" as his face contorts with rage. His aura floats black around him. In the second, Gon, his face shadowed eerily with thin lines, says "The next time you try to delay me, I'll kill her." End ID.]

Feeling like you have to keep busy

[ID: A screenshot from episode 94. A close up of Gon's face from the side as he says "I want to focus on my training." End ID.]

Doing things that are reckless and self-destructive

[ID: Three screenshots, one from episode 95 and the other two from episode 131. The first is stylized as a black outline of Gon's figure over a background like parchment or a projector - he's been hit in the face and sent to the right from the force of the blow. The second is a close up of Gon's face, almost completely shadowed, with intense and vacant eyes - he says "I don't care". The third continues with a close up of his eye filling with darkness - "if this is the end..." End ID.]

Feeling like nobody understands ("since it means nothing to you")

[ID: A screenshot from episode 116. In a whitish-room with a crack on the wall between them, Gon stands ahead of Killua, facing away from him. They are both in shadow. End ID.]

Ignoring offers of help and shutting out loved ones... poor Killua :(

[ID: A screenshot from episode 136. A spotlight on both Killua, in the foreground, and Gon, walking away from him in the background. Killua thinks "I wanted you to ask for my help in defeating Pitou!" End ID.]

Self-loathing, self-punishment, and lack of self regard

[ID: Three screenshots, two from episode 110 and the third from episode 131. The first is a close up of Gon's face over Morel asking "When would you try to hurt yourself?" The second is a continuation. Morel looks down at Gon who is facing away from the camera as Gon replies "When I couldn't forgive myself." In the last, adult Gon, staring ahead, is animated in black and white with the only colour being the blood from the stump of his right arm. His left hand grips his shoulder. End ID.]

Blaming yourself for what happened

[ID: Two screenshots, one from episode 95 and the other from episode 130. In the first, Gon hugs puppet Kite around his waist. In the second, Gon stares blankly ahead with tears streaming down his face as he thinks "I killed Kite." End ID.]

Overwhelming feelings of anger, sadness, guilt, and shame

[adamwarlock]

This is so hideous I don't know why Gunn apparently really wanted Adam to have armor... like out of ALL characters... If they had given him a helmet I would've killed myself for real

[brainddeadd]

it is a fic, i just yap first - the fic starts under the cut

reader is a friend of the Greene's but isn't actually a Greene, they took her in

warnings: typical twd violence and angst, daryl angst, fluff

I have this thought that Daryl's not very experienced at anything romantic or sexual.

Like, his mum died before that became a thing for him, his dad was abusive, Merle was abusive. He never had a good role model for this shit.

He's probably only witnessed Merle in crappy bars, high as a fucken kite and drunk, for anything like this.

He's probably heard the stories of being hella rough, rough enough for it to sound like abuse to him - why would he wanna go through that? Or put someone else through that?

He's definitely never felt true, unconditional love (maybe from his mum). Everything always comes with a price for him.

And now he lives in a world where he can't trust anyone and everything is a threat. He's got his found family and that's it.

I genuinely don't think he'd know what to do with romantic feelings.

Sexual, sure. He knows he gets hard, and he's gotta get off. Knows that sometimes someone else can help. Probably fucked a few people and hated it. It was probably Merle getting him a hooker or something, and it was definitely a shit time.

Romantic? The fuck is that? He doesn't know how to do that. How to feel that. He knows what it looks like; Maggie and Glenn. He's not sure it's something he deserves.

So when he meets you, and you're loving him so easily, he has no idea what to do.

The word's gone to shit, everyone's dead and dying, everyone's fearful and sceptical of others, and here you are, welcoming him and his found family to the farm with open arms.

You help nurse Carl back to health after he was shot. Daryl knows Rick needed that from you.

You help look for Sophia, a girl you don't know, for a woman you don't know. You join Daryl on the search, exhausted but refusing to give up.

You help take care of him after Andrea shoots him - and you may have yelled at her a bit for being so stupid (which only makes you more attractive to Daryl).

You help Carol escape when she's cornered by walkers when they take over the farm. Ushering her to Daryl, yelling that you'll be fine, taking off in a separate car.

You ask him to teach you how to use a bow and arrows, knowing it'll come in handy. He does willingly.

You take the cell closest to him in the prison, claiming it's a coincidence, but the others know it’s because you feel safest with him.

You love the baby with your whole heart, he can tell. You cradle her gently, like she's something precious and you're afraid to break her. He almost wonders if you were a mother in the previous world.

You're distraught when he goes off with Merle. Carol tells him how you cried when you found out and the sadness that filled your eyes until he returned. He hates knowing he made you that sad, the he was the cause of your tears. But the light that returns to your eyes tells Carol and Maggie how happy you are.

You show him you love him without even meaning to. It's in the way you always bring him food when he's on watch. The way you are the first to offer to join him on a run. The way you stop the others from hassling him when he wants to be alone. The way you tend to any injuries he may acquire. He can feel your love long before he knows about it.

When you hug him for the first time, his whole world stops. He's just come back from a run, he's been gone longer than he was supposed to, scared the crap out of you and the others. You don't know he's back until you spot him from a distance, getting patched up and fed by Carol, unable to hide his exhaustion. You don't stop to think, not even sure you can think. Your legs have carried you to him and your arms are around him before you can process the movements. Daryl's tense, body having gone stiff at the unexpected contact.

Flushing bright red, you move to let go of him, to hide away for eternity, but he's arms are around you, crushing you to his chest, holding you tightly, face sinking into your neck and his body relaxes. The two of you stay like that for ages, just holding each other closely.

Carol disappears, leaving you to your moment, and you hold him to your body with a hand on the back of his head. He knows then that this feeling in his chest, the one that makes him seek you out just because, is love.

[stup1d-k1llj0y]

No its genuinely so fucking saddening to watch Shelby supporters go around and spread hate... Of course, its not all of them, but the death threats, "he admitted it", or slurs... Its genuinely so heart wrenching. I wish I could be there for Wil, honestly. He genuinely seems so sweet. The things I would do to hug him. Fuck that lucky charms looking ass clout chaser. I hate her for what she's done, and I miss loving Wilbur like a little kid. That man got me through so much. He's my idol. I saw his content as a safe space, and now a random girl with no evidence or witnesses "comes forward"... Suddenly, the only thing I looked forward to all day, watching his videos or listening to his music, was crushed because I couldn't be proud of it without being harassed. It hurts so much that no one around understands. My cousin is the only Wilbur supporter I know, and it hurts knowing everyone around me refuses to see his side. All the bullshit you fuckers spout about "guilty till proven innocent" wouldn't hold up in the real world. Hate me all you want, but I'm sitting here watching edits and I see his adorable smile and I can only cry knowing how much he's suffered in the last few months. Watching my internet safe space collapse over fucking rumors is so fucking scary. I lost a handful of friends to even just having a fictive of one of his fucking characters. He cried to me. He never cries. Id never tag them here, but they know who they are. You made my Wil cry. My protector, my special boy, the one who watched over me since 2021. Block me, dni with my posts, and go fly a kite if you support sh0vel. Eat dirt you asssholes.

[devils-dares]

Idk if u write for this sort of thing but if you do, can I request frank castle in subspace x male reader who takes care of him?- just some fluff with frank being cuddled and spoiled 👉🏻👈🏻

mdni for slight sexual content

okay i feel like he'd have to really trust the person he was with in order to let himself even think about going "brain numb" but...

it'd be after a long, arduous mission. something that really took a toll on him and made him just... need you. usually he comes home and grumbles about, taking a shower and then cracking a beer and slumping on the couch, but this time he seeks you out, and that's how you know it's different. he's softer, slower, shoulders sunken versus sitting at military attention. i feel like he'd be an entirely different beast, and he'd be physical about it, draping his body weight over yours while you're doing whatever. he's quiet, even when he's needy he never expresses what it is he craves.

anyways, i feel like afterwards, when you two are laying there, skin glowing with sweat in the aftermath.

"need anything? some water, a snack?" he blinks up at you, eyes glassy.

"huh?"

"can i get something for you? or can i do something for you?"

"i- water would be nice."

i genuinely he'd be like a little shocked, a little frozen because 99% of the time he's the caregiver in the relationship and now he's thinking why is the person i have a need to take care of taking care of me?

and you'd just quietly bring him water and slide back into bed, holding him against you as he drinks the water, praising him as he drink the whole thing and now he's actually so confused. he's getting into his head about it and you're so quick to snap him out of it that he doesn't even realize it until he's a melted puddle against your chest cause you're scratching his scalp. but the fact that he knows, even subconsciously, that he trusts you means that he's not even mentally there anymore. he's just floating away on some lazy river.

he can vaguely feel a towel of some sorts, a warmth flowing through him as he realizes you're just cleaning him off because there's no physical way you're dragging him to the shower. he feels pressure on his forehead, a gentle kiss, he thinks.

"frank?"

"mm?"

"feelin' okay?"

"high as a kite." you laugh at his words.

"that's nice."

"tha' fuck did'ya do t'me?" you laugh again.

"i'm magic."

"fuck outta here."

[sunlightandsuffering]

Mikasa has never been popular. 

Never. Not once, elementary school, high school, summer camp, never in her life has she been the person people flock to.

It’s just not her, she’s not the girl everyone coos over and people yearn to be friends with. The best she’s got is Sasha, who to be honest more than makes up for Mikasa’s lack of friends, the girl sends her more memes than Mikasa imagines any large friend group would. One friend is enough. 

But maybe that explains why Mikasa is so ill-prepared to deal with the situation at hand, why instead of acting, she’s standing in the middle of the woods surrounded by drunken partygoers with her mouth hanging open doing absolutely nothing as someone’s piece of shit beater goes up in flames. 

There is an equally flabbergasted boy standing a few paces away from her, a very handsome one she notes as the flames engulf the old truck, illuminating the sharp angles of his face, casting his golden skin an almost bronze colour. “Am I just really fucking high, or is that actually on fire?” He asks, his voice a rich baritone, his pupils dilated so large his eyes look black in the night, barely a faint ring of green at the edges. Mikasa turns back to the rapidly escalating fire, pinching herself to make sure, “It’s on fire.” The boy beside her balks, “Is it… supposed to be on fire?” 

Mikasa glances around the gravel parking lot wearily, noting everyone that was around before has mysteriously disappeared off into the woods to join the party, “I don’t think so.” “Are you going to do anything about it?” The boy asks, almost in a daze and this time it’s Mikasa’s turn to balk, what the hell is she supposed to do? 

“It’s not even my car,” She responds defensively, her arms coming up to hug herself and they both hear the blare of sirens in the distance, hopefully the fire trucks. “So you’re just going to leave it?” Mikasa glares at him now, ripping her gaze from the yellow flames, “I don’t see you doing anything about it!” “Baby,” the boy looks at her now, his voice wicked as his gaze rakes her up and down, “I’m high as a fucking kite right now, there’s no shot I’m putting out a fire.” Mikasa hates how the pet name sends shivers up her spine, even more, because she can feel her pussy practically throb under his attention, because she knows this boy now, has seen him around her small town before. Resident stoner, Eren Yeager, and notorious flirt, apparently great in the sack and hotter than he has any right to be for a pothead. 

“Well, what are we supposed to do?” Mikasa asks genuinely, her hands gesturing wildly as she turns back to the fire, because Sasha is long gone and with every second she can hear the fire trucks getting closer. Eren shrugs, reaching over to grab her hand almost unconsciously, “We should probably get the fuck out of here.”

And the next thing she knows she’s being dragged towards Eren’s own beater on the other side of the parking lot, a piece of shit jeep thats seen better days and to her dismay she’s being shoved into the fucking driver’s seat. 

“What are you doing?” She asks in outrage as he buckles her in with more dexterity than he should have for someone who’s probably done several bong tokes already tonight. “I’m high as fuck Mikasa I can’t fucking drive, do you know how to drive stick?” The suggestion is so outrageous she doesn’t even have any time to ruminate on the fact that he somehow knows her name. 

“No!” “Well, you’re gonna learn, get excited baby.” 

“Stop calling me baby,” She tells him poutily and Eren smirks as he climbs into the cab, his hand unabashedly grabbing at her thighs, “You like it baby, admit it.” 

She most certainly does not!

[rose-morose]

I finished Harley Quinn, and I've got to rant about Kite Man for a second

(Harley Quinn spoilers and very very long and bitter hatred under the cut)

it fucking boggles my mind that Poison Ivy would go out with this rich, incompetent, ignorant, heteronormative, entitled, arrogant, borderline, if not outright, misogynistic trust fund child who is a massive cunt, and seemingly the antithesis of everything that she stands for

most of the time she seems to find his clumsy and ignorant conduct to be endearing, which is actually understandable, but beyond that and a positive review of the sex (I think I can't remember) it kind of seemed like she wasn't fully invested in their relationship

this isn't even a "she's out of his league" thing either, he is just genuinely a terrible terrible person, and I think many people give him far more credit than he deserves

putting aside his goofy kite motif, his naive demeanour, and his clumsy antics he just has a dull shitty personality

when they first met, Kite Man spent an entire evening making unwelcome advances on Ivy despite her clear and succinct rejections of every effort he made, stole from her, and then he took Ivy asking him for an emergency ride back to her apartment to literally save the lives of children that HE poisoned for no reason as not only validation of his relentless advances, but the beginning of what he believed to be a "date" in his deluded rotting brain

upon arriving at her apartment, unprompted, he disrobed and waited for her in her bedroom to have sex, and when Ivy asked him why, his response was along the lines of 'that's usually what happens after a great date when you go back to the girl's place'

Ivy was understandably upset by this, so what happened? what changed? in what mad world is this given any amount of consideration to even be tolerable, let alone acceptable behaviour?

"I'll do all the heavy lifting so you don't have to break a nail." fuck this twat he sucks, and this is only episode 2, the first fucking episode that he is in

"I'll protect us babe!" dude fuck right off she is literally the most powerful person in the room

"If my girlfriend sees me hanging out with you hot young coeds she is going to be green with envy." people still call women attending uni "coeds" that's fucking insane, someone just put me out of my fucking misery

HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW HER FUCKING NAME! "Poison Gertrude Ivy" 0/3 fucker not even remotely close, and he doesn't learn her name until after the third fucking time he asks her to marry him

so what if it's played as a joke, it's still true

what am I missing here? why is this guy getting a pass, not just from Ivy, but from the fandom at large? why is there such widespread admiration of this asshole?

I tried watching the Kite Man spinoff show to figure out what people see in him, but it honestly just made him look even worse if that's possible, and while the entire show has not yet been released, it is set after the conclusion of Kite Man and Ivy's relationship so it's not even that relevant

if anyone from the Harley Quinn show deserves a spinoff it isn't this cunt

this shitty excuse of a human being maps out their entire future without consulting Ivy, self admittedly stalked her, constantly does things that she explicitly asks him not to do (admittedly Harley is also guilty of this), mansplains simple bullshit to her constantly, and takes not even the slightest bit of interest in anything remotely associated with Poison Ivy, he doesn't even really seem to know that much about her

on paper I can't see why the hell she even seems to like him at all seeing as she repeatedly rebuffed his initial unwelcome attempts to hit on her, was embarrassed to be seen in public with him, did not tell anybody she was dating him, constantly comments on how fucking stupid he is, rejected him every time he tried to take the next step in their relationship, and before they got together the nicest thing she had ever said to him was along the lines of, 'you're almost tolerable when you are completely silent' and yet in practice Ivy seems to be very loving and affectionate towards him, she even attributes her recent bout of happiness to him

yet Kite Man himself admits that he had to repeat every step of their relationship over and over and over again because she constantly rejected him at every turn

and she was the only one putting any effort into their relationship, always doing things to make him more comfortable or happy and in return occasionally getting a ride and that's it, he just breaks down and starts crying when anything doesn't go his way

Poison Ivy deserves so much better than this cunt who weaselled his way into her life, not the other way around

I saw something from a showrunner about how this iteration of Poison Ivy has self esteem issues that may have lead her to date someone who isn't worthy of her just because he was nice to her, but I don't see how he was nice to her

he's usually polite, sure, but he is super misogynistic, he asks her to drop her name to get things that he wants, he is super arrogant and full of himself, and he seems to objectify her every time he tries to give her a compliment

and that hardly explains why so many fans are all for this terrible relationship, normally supporting unhealthy relationships in media because you want to see them improve and evolve is fun, but this guy does not change, he doesn't even think that he needs to change

and I think most of the show's fans are for Harlivy, which is a relationship that isn't super healthy but is compelling and improving and is fun to root for, but why do I see so many people saying that the writers should have kept going with Kite Man and Ivy?

I don't think it's outright homophobia, or at least the majority isn't homophobia, but I just don't get it

now did Kite Man deserve to be cheated on? I don't think so, that's just a pretty shitty thing to do to someone, but why the fuck was he even here in the first place?

I guess the heart wants what the heart wants or she didn't think she deserved better or whatever, but fuck why does anyone tolerate this asshole? is incompetence really that charming?

maybe I just don't get it because I'm aroace, but regardless of what you think of the relationship or the character, Kite Man is undoubtably a shit person and a complete asshole, that doesn't make him a bad character, just a bad person, and I wish more people that liked him as a character would recognise that, it's fine to like characters that are bad people, but don't outright deny it

just my final thoughts, I would love to take this opportunity to assure all 0 readers that have made it this far that I am not genuinely upset and do not take issue with people that like a fictional character that I don't like ok thanks bye

rant over

[sophswritingthings]

PART 12 (finally 😨😨😰😰)

Okay so when Mizu and reader gets reunited reader sees the Injury on Mizus so she of course fixes her wife up and helps her go to the inside of the castle, then she sees the random guy working and some shi and she goes into that room with the monkey.

Reader ofc is in high alert and has her new pistol and Her & Mizu are confused asf because a random ass monkey is there like "🐒 sup." and bro offers a flower and Reader recognised it as one of those flowers that tales you to La La Land and covers Mizu mouth and nose.

Of course reader is high out of her fucking mind because of the flower and the monkeys of course overwhelmed her and Mizu so she obviously took the best course of action and exploded the place. When they got out of that mess I like to think reader is just there beside Mizu like '🥹 huh'

(Thinking about this while sick out of my mind)

pairing: mizu x fem!apothecary!reader

warning(s): drugs, blood, wounds

a/n: ….. monkey

word count: 453 words / 2,429 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“mizu..” you whisper, pressing your hand to her wound. she flinches at the touch. you pull your hand away, your skin now covered in blood. “sit. you can go into fowler’s castle all messed up.”

she listens to you almost immediately, sitting down with a sigh.

“I really am—“

you cup a hand over her mouth, narrowing her eyes. 

“you are not fine,” you grumble. “you have a hole in your foot, and your wounds still not fully healed from last time.”

she scoffs, adverting her eyes and deciding to stay quiet.

you quickly bandage up what you can off her foot, pouring ice water over the wound and also, some down her throat. 

you grab onto her side, the two of you walking into the next room of the castle.

you glance around—spotting a.. monkey, of all things.

fowler was an interesting guy, you knew that much.

you and mizu glance at one another, confused as to what the creature was doing here.

but you quickly snap out of your trance, realizing the flower it’s holding. hallucinogenic flowers.

you reach up, covering mizu’s mouth and nose before the plant could overtake her.

though…

you, on the other hand, we’re not so lucky.

your body was shaking, trembling, a little—the hallucinations overtaking you quickly.

you glance around, everything was quite colorful, a bit blurry—even.

your eyes land on your wife, giving her a loopy smile as you grab her face gently.

“prettyyy,” you whisper, smiling and giggling at her. to you, as of right now, she looked like a cloud high up in sky above.

she groaned. she did not need this with you right now, but she supposed she’d have to go with it. 

mizu grabbed your hand tight, making sure you didn’t trail off from her. you made your way into the next room, spotting a trail of blood leading into the next room.

the blood wasn’t fresh. it was dry.

it’d been there for a while, at this point.

she glanced at you. you were in no state to go in there.

but she couldn’t leave you here, in the belly of fowlers castle.

so into the room you’d go, high as a kite.

she dragged you behind her, into the room. she spotted taigen there, lying battered and bloodied.

yes, she did want to make sure he was alive—but she was sort of more worried about you, right now. she liked you a lot more than taigen, anyway.

out of nowhere, a loud boom sounds from behind the group—the sight of fire and smoke bellowing behind you.

you gaze at the sight, before smiling up at your wife.

“.. huh?”

“.. I’ll tell you what happened later, my love.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: babe we’re you okay when you wrote this ask, I ask that genuinely

[gingersforeverbox]

Hi, no one asked for this, but have some Nathan Bateman x Reader headcanons/ drabble ideas

A/n: Howdy, I know it's been a hot minute since I posted something of my own, but I've been a simp for this stupid-genius bastard for a while now, and here is just a dump of the thoughts that are bouncing around in my head about Bitchman himself :)

Fem!Reader x Nathan Bateman btw

Content warnings: Nathan for obvious canonical reasons, the good kush🍃, swearing (probably), suggestive material that is +18 (If I find a minor on my lawn I swear to all that's good that I will tell your parents/guardians that you're being inconsiderate of boundaries Ya lil gremlins), that's all I can think of for now, but let me know if I missed anything! <3

Pretty little homemaker Reader? Yeah. Pretty little homemaker Reader who got to happily retire once they married Nathan and be a domestic, feminine person without care? Even better!

Pregnant Reader where we learn about what it’s like to be expecting with him (spoiler: he is a pain in the ass up until you have to snap at him to be considerate to the person who will give him his child, then he surprisingly gets his head out of his ass to try and be better for you and y'all's child).

Reader and Nate have to go to a gala or some shit for the first time as an official couple then there’s a bunch of questions from the press and coworkers about y'all being together, and he is basically like "Honey, I own the planet, whatever you don't want public won't be public. it's that simple, now let me show you this ice sculpture that looks like a dick if you look at it right >:)"

Stoned Nathan and Reader. She does it for fun, he insists that he’s gonna be chill, but he is such a fuckin nerd that he babbles about how scientifically interesting weed is while Reader is just like “M’kay babe, keep talkin’, you’re cute like this iloveyou” and Nathan kinda just buffers for a minute before then is high as a kite when he realizes "oh fuck this woman makes me feel things and I'm too high to try and hide it iloveyoutoo"

Nathan getting genuinely confused when Reader treats Kyoko with basic dignity despite her being an AI, and Reader basically being horrified with how he treats her and actively goes out of her way to be nice to Kyoko. Does Nathan learn to be nicer to his AI? Does he still treat them like shit and it bites him in the ass? YOU DECIDE!

Bossy!Reader who is one of BlueBook's communications experts, and he can't wrap his head around the idea of Reader, the same lady who doesn't hesitate to call one of his ideas bad-shit crazy, being the same lady who easily schmooses his business partners for him until he sees her in action at a conference they both have to attend. Nathan then realizing that he likes his organic women to be a lil fiesty.

*forewarning that this one is a little self-indulgent:* Nathan and a Psychologist reader? I would pay Money to watch those two bicker about everything. like come on, Nathan's fuckin' nuts and Reader deals with emotionally/ mentally troubled people for a living. Just imagine BlueBook deciding to assign him a psychologist since he lives in the middle of nowhere all the time, and Reader taking one look at him and being like "Oh, he's not just a narcissistic rich man, he's a narcissistic rich man with a literal god complex.... interesting :)))" then proceeding to actually help him regardless. Bbgorl wouldn't know what hit him.

That's all for now folks, as you were 😊

....psst, hey, if anyone is interested in reading something with any of these ideas I would happily see what I can do to make a lil somethin'-somethin'. Also, if you wanna take a stab at writing any of these, all I ask is that you tag me so I can get some credit and so I can see y'all's awesome work <3

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Burn Bright White - Chapter Twelve.

The final chapter is here. Thanks to those who offered support and feedback, I appreciate it.

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven

Tag list - In the comments. DM to be added/removed

Words - 3,373

Warnings - 18+ content, minors DNI! Also, while I have tried to remain as true to how Niklas is in reality as I can, I have to have a little creative freedom of my own with him in this. If you don’t like it, simply scroll on by. Bitching isn’t tolerated here. At all. Remember, it’s fiction, not a documentary ;) It’s also worth mentioning that while Taissa has qualities of being quite charming at times, she is not, by any means, a good person.

Irritation gnawed at the very fibres of him, Niklas feeling it tearing, sharp and raw, a pain he so often sought to seek in order to create rising within him. Here it was, what he needed, the wilful destruction of his own happiness once again coming back to take hold.  

He had met her while trying to negotiate his way to being a better person, a healthier one, but like so many times in the past, his old self reared its ugly head once more and demanded the contrary from him. He could be happy – or at least his own version of that – with Taissa, and he knew he could. She was, at her core, perfect for him.  

Letting her be just that was a different matter entirely, though. 

He had nine hours until she would return to him, and it made him feel as if his bones were attempting to flee his skin. He’d told her he loved her, and it was true. He wanted it to be just as much as he didn’t, flexing his fist within the grip of his other hand, his knuckles bouncing against his fingers as he growled with annoyance.  

Who even was he anymore?  

He’d begun this with the opposite intent to what he’d now arrived at, blown off course entirely, adrift from himself, powerless. Reclaiming control of the situation, he realised, would satiate the feeling of irritability, but at a price.  

The price was his peace. The price was how he’d felt that afternoon, buried inside her, loving her, stroking her, never wanting to part from that feeling.  

The price was Taissa herself.  

“Just fucking grow up and don’t fuck it all up again.” 

“Nah, fuck that. Don’t be weak. See it through.” 

“But you love her, and she loves you. Even the darkness. She loves it all.” 

“You aren’t built for it. It’s too normal for you. This was never who you were.” 

It always happened, when too much positivity came his way. He didn’t know how to handle it, so thus succumbed to the compulsion to fuck it all up. It was always the same with him. He had just under nine hours until she’d return to him, Niklas deciding to call upon a few friends he hadn’t seen in a while. It all began there.  

Meeting his friends at a bar led to another, somewhat of a crawl between establishments, ending up at the Roadhouse just before midnight. He was definitely worse for wear, high as a kite on coke and just drunk enough to know that sexually, he could go all night, should he choose to. Seeing a pretty girl with long curls and great tits checking him out, it was in that moment he chose to.  

Leaving with her at 1am, they were in his apartment just over a half hour later, Niklas carrying her to the bedroom while spanking her ass with every step he took. Twenty-five minutes and Taissa would be there, letting herself in as always. When he expected her, he never locked the door.  

He felt so much conflicting within him as he lay back and enjoyed having his cock sucked, though, the thrill of being caught and restoring the dark conflict he craved crashing hard like a tsunami against the shore of his genuine happiness with Taissa. Closing his eyes, all he could see there in his mind was her smiling at him, lying against his chest, lavishing affection upon him. 

“I hate you.” 

“I hate you, too.”  

Yet a blind man could have seen how much the pair were honestly besotted with one another, and here he was, welcoming the dark clouds, engineering it so that the sunshine within his heart became shaded once more. 2am rolled around, saw him with his face buried between the girl’s legs. 2:15am and he was fucking her assiduously from behind. 2:30am and she was riding him into the bed. 2:39am and he was blowing his load all over her face, and Taissa was nowhere to be seen.  

By 3:30am, he knew it was a wasted opportunity, reasoning she might have had a busy night and decided to go straight home after all. She’d done it in the past. After kicking the girl out at 11am the following morning, he attempted to call her, her phone simply ringing out. She’d get back to him, though. She always did. 

Twenty-nine hours passed without a peep from her, though, Niklas calling her again, sending a message, too. Nothing. When he called on her third day of being MIA, he received the recorded message that the number he was dialling was no longer in service, experiencing a chilling freeze prickle through his chest.  

All of his thoughts began to swirl, his focus on pulling her back to him polarised, taking over completely. Medication schedules fell by the wayside as he drank too much, decimated his supply of coke, and paced his apartment. Why was she doing this? Where the fuck was she?  

Day four arrived, Niklas opening his eyes to see the two shadows who haunted his unmedicated brain lingering at the foot of his bed, cackling laughter filling his ears as he flung himself from beneath the covers, dressing speedily. She’d be home, it was only 10am. Working nights meant that she didn’t tend to go anywhere until the early afternoon, so he’d catch her there and could demand why he was receiving the silent treatment.  

Truly, how dare she treat him like this? 

He felt disjointed and rattled in the back of the Uber that took him to her apartment, the shadows right there with him, taunting him with their presence.  

After exiting the car, he ran for the main door to the apartment block as someone exited, catching it before it closed. All the way up in the elevator, his vision blurred, voices chattering within his head, Niklas looking to the mirrored back wall at the haunted desperation of his own reflection, his fist meeting his own visage and cracking the glass. Little spots of blood dripped onto the floor, marking the hallway as he strode to her apartment. 

His knuckles smeared crimson across her front door as he hammered upon it with his fist, his chest heaving as he ground his teeth, mouth tightening.  

“Hello, can I help?”  

He didn’t have a clue who the woman answering on the other side was at all. “Where is she?” 

She was perplexed, seeing a wild-eyed man with a bloodied hand, her heart beginning to pound with nerves. “Who is she, I don’t...hey, wait! You can’t just barge in here!”  

He’d shoved his way past her before she could say anything else, though, feeling scared, glad she wasn’t alone. Her girlfriend gasped in surprise to see him appear, his hand dripping onto the carpet as he stared at her chillingly. 

“Where is she?” 

She shook her head, backing away from him. “I-I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she began, seeing her girlfriend appear behind him. “We, we rented this place on Airbnb.” 

His eyes swivelled left to right, looking for any trace of Taissa. It almost looked like a different apartment, none of her belongings, the walls bare, the bed... the bed where he’d fucked her so many times, held her, slept curled around her... 

Loved her... 

Not even that looked the same as when he’d last been within it. With her.  

“You have to leave, or I’m calling the police.”  

The way he stared at her chilled her blood to freeze, Niklas feeling his heart hammering so violently that extreme nausea began to pulse. He at least made it out of the apartment before throwing up in the hallway, following his own dripped blood path back to the elevator.  

She couldn’t do this to him.  

It took him two hours of aimlessly wandering the streets in a daze before he arrived back home. Once there, he fed Katze, scratching her head, washing blood from his hand before bandaging it. It had been a while since he’d had to do such, look after self-inflicted wounds, noting that the skin over his knuckle should probably be stitched, but having little to no desire to help himself further than binding the gashes.  

Picking up a bottle of bourbon, he staggered to his bed, shedding his clothes and lying naked upon the covers. Turning his head, he could still smell her perfume on the pillow, his heart ripping itself open. She was gone. His own game had been played back at him, and as that realisation began to settle, it felt as if he’d swallowed a jagged cog, one which carved his insides to shreds as it gored at where he’d become soft. 

Soft for her. And it sickened him.  

Time lost itself to the torrent of emotions swirling around his mind, his psychosis now returned full-blown. He only moved to feed Katze and sort her litter tray, picking up a fresh bottle of alcohol and returning to his pit of anguish. Unmade, messy sheets still bore her scent, Niklas burying his face in them, his hand moving to his cock as he stroked himself hard, eyes swimming in tears.  

He did that until he physically couldn’t, until he was sore, cum sodden and lonely, crying into the pillows that barely bore her scent any longer. How long had he been there for, sleepless, the two black shadows his only constant, whispered voices playing like a haunted theme of darkness through the tattered echoes of his mind. 

And he’d bought it all on himself.  

This was what he’d asked for.  

He hadn’t, however, asked to be abandoned.  

If his mental condition was a stormy sea, then Taissa was the leviathan in the centre of it, grasping him by the heart and dragging him under her surging waves, drowning him in his own misery. He had no true concept of time, whether it was night or day as he lay in his darkened bedroom, eventually drifting into fitful slumber. His dreams couldn’t even give him the peace of complete nothingness that he craved. 

He found himself wandering a long path, eyes picking out a line of small houses at the end, a feeling of warmth flooding him as his eyes centred in on the one at the far left.  

It felt like home, although he had never seen it before in his entire life.  

Opening the door, he was greeted by the overwhelming scent of her, of candles and spices, home cooked food and the crackling warmth of a fire. It was cozy and beautiful, slipping his coat off and removing his shoes as he looked down the hall, watching as she came to greet him. She wasn’t alone.  

“Look, come on. Here’s here now, you have to show him!” she spoke with enthusiastic warmth, holding onto the hands of a small child, a cherubic looking little boy who took big, uncertain steps. His eyes found Niklas, eyes that matched his, the baby beaming as he released the grip on his mother’s hands and walked on unsteady feet towards him.  

Niklas crouched, catching the child when he staggered on little legs, his heart bursting with pride. “My boy walks now!” he spoke, kissing his blonde curls. “We are all in trouble now you are mobile, my son.” Lifting him into his arms, he stood, welcoming Taissa into his embrace with a kiss. “When?” 

“Earlier this morning, he pulled up on the sofa as usual and then suddenly, he was off! He almost landed on Katze, she was far from impressed,” she revealed, her face so warm and alight as she stroked their baby on his chubby cheek with her fingertips. Had she always been so serenely beautiful? She looked angelic to him. “Here, give him to me. I have just run a bath for him in the sink.”  

Niklas chuckled, kissing the baby and handing him to his mother. “More Leevi Aho parenting implemented, my darling.” 

“He always said baby baths were bullshit when we had a perfectly good sink. He was right,” she spoke, walking down the hallway, Niklas following her to a large, beautiful kitchen. Katze sat in front of the glowing hearth, the air laden with homely scents, feeling something settle within him that he hadn’t known was broken. It was like a yearning he never knew he wished to be fulfilled. “So, you had the interview this morning, how did it go?”  

He was just about to reply, watching the way she so adoringly carried their child in her arms, a wedding band and engagement ring sparkling upon her dainty finger when he found his path into the kitchen blocked. There they appeared, the two shadows, one shaking its head as it began to cackle. 

“This is not for you. This was never for you.” 

Of course, it wasn’t. He knew that instinctually, but the reality of it. Oh, the sweet, torturous reality of his little-known heart’s desire. 

“It isn’t real. They’re just shadows, they aren’t here.” 

“What are shadows, my love?” She turned, pausing with their son’s tiny sweater in her hand. “Niklas, what is wrong?”  

Maybe if he could fight past the shadows, he could stay there with her, remain in this beautiful dream, safe and warm. “Niklas?” 

“It isn’t real,” he spoke, shaking his head rapidly, attempting to wake himself. “This isn’t real.” 

Taissa acted quickly, placing the baby in his high chair and clipping him in, moving speedily across the kitchen. As soon as she reached him, the shadows dissipated into black smoke, fluttering away to nothing, her hands smoothing his cheeks. 

“Niklas, you’re having an episode,” she spoke gently, making him look at her. “Look at me, deep breaths. Those motherfucking meds. We need to get you back to a doctor again.” 

His entire chest felt like it was caving in on him, his breathing panicked, everything around him so real, so palpable. “It isn’t real! I am not here, and neither are you! You abandoned me, you left me behind, Tai.” 

“Shhh, love,” she soothed, stroking him, centring him again. “This is how it goes, remember? Remember when you had your breakdown two years ago? You thought I had gone, but I was there with you the whole time. Well, between throwing up with morning sickness. Remember? You went back to the hospital, and you came out just before Rasmus was born. Remember?” 

He didn’t, but was it real? Had his mind been playing tricks on him so severely that he’d hallucinated her leaving, and in the process, lost two years?  

Was this truly his life?  

“You should remember,” she continued, wrapping her arms around him. “I called you every type of bastard under the sun while I gave birth. Swore I’d never let you between my legs again, even though that was a lie.” Winking she stroked his chest. “Last night very much speaks of the lie. I’m still sore!” 

Wincing, he couldn’t take it in. “What year is it?” 

“Twenty-twenty six,” she confirmed. “You are forty-two, I am thirty, god fucking forbid, and Rasmus is thirteen months.” 

“And we are married?” 

She kissed his chest. Nodding. “Yes. We married five months ago. I wore black to mourn the old Taissa Aho being no more. You laughed yourself stupid when I told you I would do that. Remember? You told me even though I would be Taissa Kvarforth going forward, there was no way in hell your little beast wouldn’t be exactly that any longer.” 

Shaking his head, he scrunched his eyes shut tightly, slapping his face. She was still there when he opened them again. “And I proposed to you?” 

Humming a laugh, she looked out from under her lashes at him. “No, I asked you. Remember? We always go through this when you forget, love. I asked you, but you said you were going to buy me an engagement ring all the same. One that befitted my cock sucking skills.” Holding her hand up, a very decently sized diamond sparkled upon her finger. “You almost sent yourself broke, buying me this.” 

“I can’t...” He shook his head, grasping her face in his hands, kissing her. “You were gone, my darling. I was alone.” 

“I know. It always goes like that when you forget to take your medication, but you have been on top of it, so I think you need to see your doctor again.” Her face was warm and loving as she smiled up at him, her thumb skimming her cheek. “Come and sit down, it’s all okay.”  

But it wasn’t. That first step he took into the kitchen woke him, finding himself in the darkened bedroom of his apartment, his mouth furry, his head pounding.  

Reaching for his phone, he located the number he needed, the call answered quickly. 

“The usual?” Miika spoke.  

“Yeah,” he replied, swallowing hard. “Where is your sister, Miika?” 

He knew Niklas would probably reach out to him at some point, knowing his sister of old. Of course she would have left him broken. It was her style, and it always would be, too. “She went back to Helsinki two weeks ago.” 

Two weeks had passed? 

“Oh.” 

Miika sighed uncomfortably. “I’ll be round within the hour.”  

While Niklas lay there waiting for a delivery of something he hoped might make him feel more human, Taissa lay in an equally empty bed over two hours away, in the same sheets she had taken with her from Tampere.  

She could just about smell him on them, still. Her hand smoothed the vast space, sighing. He wasn’t there. 

He never would be again. She had seen to that.  

“It was just a game,” she told herself, closing her glassy eyes to the morning light, seeing him there in her mind. “One you won.” 

Every breath burned as she curled into herself, retreating beneath the covers, imagining him there with her, inside her, hands gripping her, mouth scattering kisses. The blue of his eyes had been the most perfect hue, sharp and cold, but when they’d gentled towards her, it was like looking into a cloudless sky.  

It all could have been cloudless, if she’d let it.  

“You won.” 

It was perhaps the hollowest victory she could ever remember.  

Days and nights bled into one another, Taissa eventually carrying on as normal, while Niklas sank like a stone, unable to move. His psychosis became worse, seeing, hearing things that were no more real than any other figment conjured by his illness, his anguish. One morning, though, he finally saw all he desired lying right there next to him, the sunlight catching her features, bathing her in a heavenly glow.  

“You came back.” 

Turning, she smiled, shaking her head. “I didn’t. And I never will.” 

Her imaginary presence wove healing bandages around the fractures of his shattered heart, but her words brought him no peace. He was too far gone for that now.  

“Look at what you have done to me.” 

Her hand reached to cup his face, shaking her head. “You did this to yourself. I warned you what I’d do. Remember?” 

He did.  

“Not before I ruin you, Niklas. Because I will, don’t say you weren’t warned.” 

“Don’t be her,” he whispered, his hand covering hers, clenching around her fingers. “Be who you showed me. One more time. Just once, Tai.” 

Wordlessly, she shuffled nearer, curling against his chest. He snaked his arms around her, turning onto his back, her dainty weight pressed against him as he stroked her arm and kissed her hair. It was so real, so palpable, but he knew. He understood in the depths of his anguished delirium that it was only a memory, and that was all she ever would be. 

“I love you, Niklas.”  

But she didn’t, and it ripped him to pieces, empty winds scraping across the dark pit of sorrow he’d fallen into. His mouth twitched in a half smile, because what an incredible album this would birth, the masochism achieved. She was gone, and he was once again absconded to the cold void he’d welcomed with open arms. 

It engulfed him entirely, and the pain... oh, the haunting, all-encompassing pain of it. 

It burned bright white.  

The End. 

[lonnymustreturntothevoid]

gerbert fics masterpost

—> specifically my own works from @/returntothevoid on AO3

your hot whiskey eyes (have fanned the flame)

rated E; 614 words

“You’re a fucking rat,” Gerard says with a grin. He climbs back into bed beside Bert, stealing a drag of his cigarette before laying down and closing his eyes. “I like you a lot.”

“Me or my dick?” He’s kidding, but somewhere deep down he does genuinely want to know.

sound effects and overdramatics

rated M; 1 039 words

It’s just fucking.

That’s what Gerard tells himself, at least. It’s generally difficult to think about anything other than sex when you’re high as a kite, caked in post-show sweat and being pinned to a brick wall by a guy just as far gone and desperate as you.

sleeping with roaches

rated E; 477 words

He’s happy here, he realizes. Buzzed and on the edge of consciousness, making someone that makes him feel safe feel so good.

All he knows is that he’s so, so tired. And happy. Gerard Way is happy.

sloppy kisses, dirty wishes (baby this is living)

rated E; 564 words

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Bert spits before ducking his face into Gerard’s neck. He bites his jugular and Gerard whines. He smells like sweat and weed and sex.

lunacy fringe

rated E; 2 025 words

Gerard watches and Bert notices his eyes go lidded as the smoke settles in his lungs. He leans forward, eyes flitting down to Gerard’s lips before he slides a hand to grip the back of Gerard’s skull and pulls him in to seal his mouth over his. Gerard moans and melts into it. It’s lazy and slow, out of character for both of them. Gerard thinks he might like it.

“I don’t think I’d mind hurting you,” Bert starts, breathing heavily and holding Gerard’s stare. “Only if it’s what you want, though, and that you’re 1000% sure it’s what you want.”

blue

rated E; 380 words

It’s times like these where he pretends he doesn’t exist—believes he’s nothing but something for Gerard to play with, something for him to satisfy. Something to be satisfied. It’s hard to think of much else when Gerard’s doing exactly as he promised.

old bones

rated M; 425 words

His lips are chapped and dry despite the sweat and Gerard laps at the taste.

tell me i’m an angel

rated E; 3 048 words

He gawks at the way Bert’s inky black hair clings to his neck like spiderwebs, the darkness of his tattoos accentuated against his honey-coloured skin when they’re wet, the curve of his arms, all lean muscle, and the broad shoulders he’d suddenly like to grab.

waste some time with you

rated E; 1 332 words

It’s become routine at this point. Gerard’s had a rough day, Bert fucks him until he passes out. What can really be considered a “rough day” at this point in his life is beyond him. Everything bleeds together—hours, drinks, shows, sex. What he considers a relatively okay 3pm-to-4am period (or whatever constitutes a day for a rock star with an increasingly concerning drug addiction) is one that he can barely remember once he wakes up. He wakes up next to Bert a lot, and he’s okay with that for now. They chase their hangovers away together and Bert likes to blow him awake sometimes. He likes being around him, and that says a lot because Gerard doesn’t really like being around a lot of people.

Oh, and he gives the best head Gerard’s ever had in his life.

[mitochondriaandbunnies]

Notes on Slipstream:

This is not a good movie

However everything that Bill Paxton says is gold

Mark Hamill is the only actor taking this seriously, to the point that it seems like he's in a different film than the rest of the cast

A plane drove into mark Hamill and he was 100% fine, like someone had hit him with a cardboard tube

There's a spooky murderer man who is on a journey to an unknown place and who can magically heal people, and he's mysteriously British and in a pinstriped suit in a movie where everyone else is in like, dollar store Mad Max garb

Every scene of plot and acting is matched with a random scene of weird planes flying over... Ireland?

Bill Paxton: We should get some shut eye. / British Suit Man, Eyes Wide Open, Without Inflection: SLEEEEP

I swear half of the movie is overdubbed

The mysterious man in a suit has been. Strapped to a kite? As torture, I guess

I'm not... not into Mark Hamill getting all up in Bill Paxton's face with a knife

I don't know if Kitty Aldridge is a decent actress not in this movie, but she's really, really not selling it here

If someone threw Blade Runner, Nausicaa, Mad Max, and some comically bad religious tracts into a blender and then fed it to a fourteen year old whose dream was to be a comic artist, this is 100% what they'd write

Somehow they're now at the Victoria & Albert Museum. Like. that's Trajan's column.

British Suit Man has changed into a new suit at the Victoria and Albert museum...?

We have entered an extended dance sequence

Where did Mark Hamill go. I miss him

Bill Paxton's character is obsessed with boobs and balloons and no line has been drawn between these things but I think they're related

God I love weird low budget 80's sci-fi movies and their tendency to just forgot about their own plots and fuck around for half their screentime

"The air down there is too foul and putrid for anyone to breathe" / "It's fine, he's an android" / *five minutes later* *cut to Bill Paxton, who is NOT a robot, in the area where the air is too foul and putrid to breathe, breathing normally*

Apparently Bill Paxton's character in this post-apocalyptic movie is named... Matt. We are reasonably certain we had not heard this until the last like, 20 minutes of the movie

I genuinely wonder if this movie is why someone decided Mark Hamill should be the Joker because like. He is so unhinged

And then everyone exploded

Oh holy shit the credits have the coolest balloons I've ever seen Bill Paxton was right

[jackalopes-pen]

Chapter 2: Oddity

Summary: Fastpass begrudgingly goes to handle a call, and finds himself asking a few strange questions.

Characters: Jimmy Valmer | Fastpass , XXXXXXX | The Crow

Word Count: 1059 words

Previous: [Encounter]

A/N: One note, thanks. Oh well, still gonna do this.

Night is when the fun really starts in the city. It’s when your job lets you get off to go drink, it’s when the bars are populace and bustling, it’s when you can breathe and really let yourself relax. On nights like these where the wind is tempting people inside and the drinks are at a more modest price, normally Fastpass would take up the opportunity for an open mic night. That would be what he was doing if some idiot didn’t decide to ruin his night and break into a construction site. It’s probably rats or some homeless guy but sure, ruin his night for a false alarm. It’s not like he has a life too.

Fastpass arrived at the construction site, a new building for Mortengrad Corporation to run operations in the city more directly. In seriousness, Fastpass never liked the company, but it didn’t matter what he thought about the company itself or its actions. Be a paragon, do the right thing, save the day. He looked around, there was no sign of entry or struggle over the tarp of the fence. Someone experienced then?

He sped around the site, and was genuinely confused to what he was supposed to be looking for. No footprints but his own, nothing disturbed, not even a missing beam of steel. Just as he was about to call it a night, he felt it. The wind was blowing east, yet a gust blew north. Something was definitely here, something that would take an annoyingly long time to handle. He slowly looked around before sighing and deciding to use the age old technique of ‘made you flinch’.

Fastpass banged his metal crutch into the foundation of the building, setting off a chain echo of noisy metal. The skittish little thing popped out, gotcha. Fastpass rushed over to where it was hiding, whatever it was and was immediately struck with a scythe. Fuck, not them again.

“W-well well. If it isn’t the biggest p-p-pain in my ass since c-c-Cosby.” Fastpass quipped. Standing on the third row of beams up in the sky was a tall winged figure, with a scythe in hand. 

“What a title.” The Crow’s face was completely masked by a caplet and half mask of a crow’s face. Even so, the sarcasm was palpable and the eyeroll may as well have been a whole broadcast. 

“W-well don’t just loom up there. Come at me b-bitch.” Fastpass spoke, with all the tenacity he could muster. Crow seemed eager to take him up on the request.

Crow swooped down from above and swung at Fastpass, aiming for his crutches. The two did this a lot, Crow keeping to the air with his massive black wings and Fastpass zooming around the ground. Fastpass never understood why Human Kite couldn’t take calls regarding him. They could actually fight in the air instead of running around like a mouse.’

“You know something, Crow? You n-never seem to talk to me when we do this. Do you hate me?” Fastpass said, striking up a conversation. This back and forth was always so damn boring, the least they could do was talk.

“Maybe I prefer to talk to someone who has more tact.” The Crow replied, with venom in his voice. He landed, and switched to a more hand-to-hand approach, probably seeing that his flight strategy wasn;t panning out.

“Tact? I’m a fucking s-s-stand-up c-comdiean. I have tact.” Fastpass argued. This idiotic bird clearly doesn’t ideate. He sped over to the vigilante with a rope but the bird launched himself up with his wings in the nic of time. He swooped down to remove the rope from Fastpass’ grip and tossed it aside.

“If you’re such a comic, make better comebacks.” The Crow huffed. He dropped down to kick at Fastpass’ legs but the hero is far too fast for that. He sped out and the two rescued a more hand-to-hand combat.

“Wow, what a great audience.” Fastpass huffed under his breath, as the two traded blows. This was starting to drag longer than he wanted.. Oh fuck it. He spoke up. “Say bug guy, w-why are you messing with this site anyway?”

“A-are you serious?” The Crow stopped dead in his tracks, seemingly very confused. 

“W-well yeah. W-what’s the big deal?” Fastpass also stopped. The two were just standing, facing each other with one much more confused than the other. 

“Uh.. well, the position of the building would mean it runs on East District power, and would likely cause regular black-outs and shortgages. So.. we don’t want it completed.” Crow is choosing his words carefully, that’s obvious. 

Fastpass thinks for a moment. The cause is decent, and even kinda noble to risk imprisonment to save the East District. It was almost too… human. These are villains, they shouldn;t have an actually decent cause for their wrongs but that’s valid. Especially if The Omens live in the East District, which is the poorest part of the city. Why they not defend their home?

“You w-what? I actually have something I want to do tonight, so go ahead. B-but if anyone asks, I did fight you.” Fastpass smirks, as The Crow seems even more baffled.

“Okay, yeah. You… definitely left a mark or two.” Crow is being hesitant, probably very on edge about the whole exchange.

“Cool, just d-don’t hurt anyone.” Fastpass shrugged and sped off before Crow could even respond. His work was done here, as far as he was concerned.

It was strange though, he’s more than willing to admit that. To see The Omens of all groups holding a noble cause to their chaos is.. weird. He didn’t have to worry much about that now though, the site would be largely destroyed and a token would be left at the scene. That’s what they do.

Tonight just became Jimmy’s night again, though, and that was absolutely wonderful. He sped down to Skeeter’s bar just as the back door was closing. He wooshed into the dressing room so he could get out of this costume and into some normal clothes that are actually comfortable. He looked in the mirror, as he smiled and took a breath to prepare for his act. He, of course, wrote it to utter perfection. 

“Jimmy? You ready to go on?” the stage manager asked.

“Oh h-h-he-hell yes.” Jimmy stutterd out.

[the-manors-writer]

glad to see this blog active again! i used to obsess over old posts lol

anyway, could i ask for some headcanons of emil with a s/o that got seriously injured in a match? hurt/comfort please :)

thank you for your past support, detective! welcome back :] also once again we're here with jack slander /j - mod orhpeus

request: emil with a badly injured s/o from a match headcanons pairing: [emil] patient x gn!reader warnings: descriptions of blood & injury, near death experience

emil

emil was already unhappy with the hunter for this match

the ripper is not a person he wants to see, let alone anywhere near you, considering his past and current personality plus habits, of course the patient would be iffy

though then again iffy is just a huge understatement but still

that entire match, emil wasn’t bothered by jack because he was chasing someone else

but that didn’t make him happy

because that someone else was you

he felt his heart drop when he saw you pinging that the hunter was near you

he wanted to abandon his cipher and run towards you, but he had to help the team out at the very least

he regretted that decision so much. so, so much

see, you were kiting jack for a good while, and it didn’t anger the hunter

it made him excited, actually

because you’re actually someone who gives him effort in his chase, and if there’s one thing the hunter likes, it’s that

by the time the third cipher popped, you know you messed up

he was right behind you as you grabbed the edge of the window, ready to vault

and you felt those claws scratch through your clothes, into your flesh, blood gushing out of the five gashes across your back

you didn’t even manage the normal vault, the sheer force of it knocked you to the ground with a rough landing

the force of hitting the ground was so hard you even scraped your leg badly

your scream of pain actually scared the survivors across the map because it was genuinely so much louder and bloodcurdling than what they were used to

and emily screams pretty damn loud

emil felt his heart nearly lodge itself deep in his chest

that was your scream.

the ripper hums as he slips through the window, chuckling as he grabbed you by the leg. damn that accessory of his

but to your surprise, he first dragged you closer to him. on your back.

you screamed and arched off the ground as the ripper’s unclawed hand gripped the side of your head

“you sound beautiful, my dear... such ragged shrieks, just like those whores.”

his claws traced your stomach

“i want to gut you so bad right now, pretty thing. little rose like you, with your innards spilled across the fucking floor. oh, that’d be such a sight. i can’t wait for the day that i can do that to you.”

he digs his claw to leave a mark, but not stab too deeply

then, he threw you to your stomach

you were dragged through the mud and grass, but every time you struggled, the wounds on your back stung and you couldn’t help but limp as the ripper snatched you by the scruff and threw you against the chair

you couldn’t do anything much, but you thought yourself lucky that the fourth cipher popped then and there. just one remaining

emil pushed the coordinator aside as he was running towards you

“focus on decoding!” he yelled at her, “i’m going to rescue!”

the fury and worry in his voice made her falter, and she did as he said

the ripper had left you alone and emil quickly took off the clasps, feeling his the pit in his stomach gnaw bigger when he saw the five claw marks across your back

you didn’t even have the energy to stand, just drop into his arms

the survivors squeaked by with a tie. coordinator and thief was chaired as emil supported you while he opened the gate

the two of you escaped, and as soon as the two of you got to the manor, he carried you to the doctor as fast as he could

despite his fear of medical figures, women especially, he had to do it for you. he wasn’t a professional at this, after all

“p.. please be okay..” emil sobbed as he clasped your hand, “i-i’m.. umh.. i don’t wanna be alone..”

“i’ll be okay,” you mumble softly, looking at him with a face that told him that you weren’t okay

emily patched you up as best she could, and very obviously told you that you couldn’t play a few matches for a while

which essentially, to emil, meant that he also wasn’t going to play until you were fully healed

he carried you back to your shared room and he doted on you so, so, much

he was crying the entire time

you were so pale. you were so cold. he was afraid that if he turned his back on you, you wouldn’t be moving anymore and you’d be gone

he wanted to kill jack, but he wasn’t strong enough for that

over time, the wounds turned less deathly and major, and you were healthy enough to be held and cuddled

and he did that a lot.

one night, he cradled you close to his chest, gently rocking you back and forth

he was still crying a lot over your injuries

“...emil?” you weakly mutter, and he stops to look at you

big tears rolling down his face, you cup it to wipe them away

“..hey, handsome.. what’s up?” “...worry.. over you..”

he whispers, leaning down to kiss you softly

“mm.. i know.. you’re okay.. i’m okay too, see..? don’t cry anymore..”

“..you’re okay.. okay.. we’re... okay..” he whispers, and he brightens a bit when he sees you smile and nod

he clings to you, because to him, you’re the only light he has left

and the warm light is all he cares about, here, now, and forever

[art credit - official art]

[k1ss-m3-b3tt3r]

𖣯 High as a Kite 𖣯

pairing: jonathan byers x male! reader (romantic)

summary: smoking weed takes away the feeling of loneliness by providing you with the most perfect food combinations and your best friends. jonathan tries to confess but you cant comprehend a word he says, making him embarrassed and you, wearing fuzzy llama socks, screaming in laughter.

warnings: cursing, weed, awkward but cute fluff :)

a/n: i love fluff and have such a weak heart for jonathan! also happy yule!!! not revised btw

you were always a stoner and somewhat a loner, until you met jonathan and argyle. whenever it was awkward, you would crack a joke and no one could stop laughing. its just something you picked up from high school a while back, the class clown title. you couldnt deal with emotions so getting high was comforting and you were better explaining how you feel while smoking.

while being a cool stoner, youre also oblivious as fuck. everyone notices and im pretty sure you lost most brain cells, but to jonathan you were perfect. not everything about you was perfect, definitely not, but the way you show that goofy smile really lights up the room was magical. it was a hard core crush at this point.

you were never really part of the group until last year, after all the shit that went down in hawkins. you started hanging out with argyle, liking his stoner ways and matched his energy perfectly. “we are all one with the world” and “bro think about it, we’re all just brains! i dont get why people could hate each other.” were things you said quite often while stoned.

today was the day though: to confess. jonathan was nervous, like extremely after the whole thing with nancy and the break up. it hurt him definitely but he decided it was time to actually get out there and do what he wants to do. jonathan invited you over, thinking about how to do this correctly, so he prepped himself, rehearsing the lines. all of a sudden, the doorbell rings.

“ill get it!” jonathan yells while getting off of his ass as quick as possible. his hands were pretty sweaty so he wiped it off, heading to the front door.

“whos that?” joyce says genuinely curious, but of course she rolls her eyes and puts her hand on her hip and steps in front of jonathan. “youre doing all the chores for a week if thats (y/n).” joyce smiles a cheeky grin.

the doorbell starts again, but this time being pressed on a thousand times. “IM COMING!!” joyce yells ignoring jonathan. “wait..!” he tells joyce but she ignores him. shes his mother after all, not the other way around.

once the doors open, (y/n) spins around. “heyyyy miss joyce!” she turns and looks at jonathan with the i knew it face. “uhh, want me to wait out here- nevermind its too cold..” (y/n) jogs inside and acts like its the coldest hes ever felt. jonathan just looks at him like hes an idiot. “come on, lets just go to my room” as he sighs to himself.

before they go anywhere, (y/n) whispers, “hey, bro, hey.. i got the good shit and i may have smoked half of it in my car, but i left you some!” “get your ass in the room!” jonathan mumbles in an exhausted but hushed voice, trying to get (y/n) into a room.

“uh, bye i guess miss joyce..?” “uh huh, you too (y/n)…” she gives a questioning voice with her brow raised, “dont get into any trouble!” (y/n) laughs it off and runs into the bedroom like an idiot. you can here the springs get hit on jonathans bed all the way from the door way.

jonathan gives a little grin, heading towards his room. when he gets there (y/n) is already bringing out the bong, packing it terribly since hes already high as a kite. “hey bro, you gotta check this shit out, its feisty! back i say, back!” while acting like the bag of weed is after him. jonathan laughs and sits on the bed, taking the whole bowl down in a few hits.

“what is in this (y/n)..?” jonathan starts to feel prickles in his legs and his eyes droop. “i told its good shit! i know the best people my man” (y/n) packs another bowl and starts hitting that shit like crazy.

ten minutes later, theyre starting at the ceiling, on the floor of course. jonathan looks over and catches the other guys face, its practically glowing. the guy sits up and looks towards jonathan with his eyes glazed over. “bro… what did i come over here for again..?” jonathan hesitates, “um, i dont know..” jonathan turns away thinking about the confession hes supposed to make but clearly doesnt remember what he practiced.

“damn.. you know man, you cant lie to me even if im high,” (y/n) says as he ruffles his hair and stands up, walking in circles because it “feels good” as you can quote it. “ok ok, i just have to say one thing i guess?” (y/n) stops and stares at him, while jonathan is taking in all his features, down to his beautiful eyes and.. llama socks..??

jonathan sighs, sitting up and rubbing his hands against his face. “umm, (y/n)?” “yuh?” jonathan laughs and just says, “yuh? what does that even mean mannn?” (y/n) looks at him and bursts out laughing. jonathan looks at his hands, “what was i saying?” “bro, i cant even remember what we’ve done for the past uhhh i dont know twelve minutes?” “uh huh, really specific there (y/n)..” (y/n) just grins.

(y/n) stares at the llama socks and whispers, “i think theyre watching me…” jonathan stands up, urgently, asking who is while looking outside. “…the llamas bro…” jonathan looks at him as (y/n) makes that goofy grin. that goofy grin lit up his heart and he realizes what this whole thing was about. he sits next to (y/n) and give him a shy smile.

“ok so um..” jonathan thinks for a moment before blurting out, “i think im in love with you?” (y/n) jolts up and looks at jonathan. “i dont think ive eaten anything today. should i be worried? will i die?” “did you even hear what i said?” jonathan laughs and touches the other guys hand. “i. am. in. love. with. you. does that make sense??” (y/n) just looks at jonathan then looks at his hand and then the door. “if you really love me, get me food my guy.” jonathan sits dumbfounded as (y/n) says that, wondering how he even fell in love with the guy, before laughing. “alright, deal i guess??”

jonathan goes out of his room a little embarrassed, while (y/n) was doing something wild most likely. as soon as jonathan gets back with the food, you have already made a nest out of blankets and pillows on the floor. “what…??” jonathan takes a second before speaking again, “what are you doing?” (y/n) raised his hand, telling jonathan to stop speaking.

“i made a nest and i love you too loser.” (y/n) sits on the floor in his new nest, cuddled up in a ball. jonathan was too stunned to speak. he had to think about what was happening and almost dropped the chips he had in his hand. “so, you made me get food, built a nest, and now you say you love me??” “well..” (y/n) looks around, “yes? now get in.”

jonathan sits in the “nest” and (y/n) immediately pulls jonathan towards him, while sitting quietly. “you know you should brush your hair, its starting to look like an actual nest. jonathan starts laughing and fixing his hair. “is that better?” (y/n) looks at his nest below him and then looks back at jonathan, nodding to himself. “thatll do just fine.” (y/n) soft kisses his head.

jonathan looks around at the nest and then at the bags of chips before looking back at (y/n) again. “youre smoking privileges are being revoked after this.” jonathan laughs and (y/n) gives him a knowing look. “sure thing dude.. sure thing..”

[thatrandomwriter]

Rooftop Romance

merle x reader

warnings: swearing, gore, sexual language

“You sure he’s worth it?” T-Dog asked, skepticism written across his face.

“Him and Daryl are our best hunters. They may both share about three brain cells, and Merle is about the biggest asshole I’ve ever met-“

“Hey, fuck you,” Merle cut in. I ignored him.

“But the fact is we need them to survive. We’ll make it out of the city, but you need to go before the others leave without you,”

T-Dog looked conflicted, but after a few seconds he dashed out of the door, racing down the stairs. I pulled the door shut, locking it behind him. There was a strong chance that I had just ensured my own death as well as Merle’s. The sound of the dead beating on the door almost as soon as T-Dog had left seemed to give Merle the same idea.

“Well fucking come on then princess, I ain’t getting any younger over here.” He had that god awful smirk plastered across his face. “You know, there’s a lot I can do with these hands. Maybe I can show ya once I’m free,” he made a crude gesture with his cuffed hand.

“Maybe if you didn’t say shit like that all the time, someone might actually wanna fuck you. You’re disgusting, you know that?”

Instead of waiting for his no-doubt even worse reply, I walked over to see what had been left in Dale’s toolbox. It was mostly screwdrivers and spanners, nothing of any use to me, but I noted a hammer and most importantly a hacksaw. Hopefully it would be strong enough to get through the metal of Merle’s handcuff.

“Call me disgusting all ya like, everyone knows you want a piece of this,”

My cheeks grew hot and I fumbled the saw, almost dropping it as I walked over to him. It was a humiliating feeling to know that he was right. To know that despite what a piece of shit he was, over the few weeks I’d known him, I had developed some form of feelings for him. Merle had found me while out checking the camp’s perimeter with Shane. Having just escaped the city, I was exhausted and terrified, and just about ready to collapse on the forest floor and give up. Of course, Merle’s reasoning for taking me back likely had more to do with wanting to fuck me than anything else, but I wasn’t entirely convinced that Shane would have taken me back if Merle hadn’t been there to bear witness. We weren’t exactly close, but we shared a fondness for drinking and he taught me a few things about using a crossbow. I didn’t fool myself into thinking he wanted anything more than a one time fling with me; he flirted with just about anything with tits. But some small, stupid part of me still hoped for more.

I sat next to him, pulling his hand toward me to get a better look at the handcuffs. When I looked up, he was staring into my face with another stupid grin. I sent him a glare back.

“Come on now, don’t be like that. Last I checked we’re all alone up here, no-one needs to know, part from maybe a few walkers,”

“Would you quit it? I’m trying to save your life.”

“Jus’ trying to lighten the mood. You should really try lightening up sometime, wouldn’t kill ya,”

I rolled my eyes, corner of my mouth twitching upwards slightly.

“Looks like cutting through the cuffs is gonna be a no go, but this pipe you’ve been cuffed too looks pretty old. It’s worth a try at least,” I lined up Dale’s saw, and began working at the metal.

“So I’m gonna be stuck with a friendship bracelet from Officer Friendly?”

The thought made me laugh a little.

“It’s not like you don’t deserve it; threatening everyone with a gun wasn’t exactly your best moment.” I teased. In his defence, he had most definitely been high as a kite when he’d started pointing the gun. Not that that really made it any better.

“I wasn’t gunna shoot em. Definitely wasn’t gunna shoot you, ya far too beautiful,” Merle said.

“And so’s Andrea, right? And Lori, and Jackie, and every other woman who isn’t trying to eat us,”

“I dunno, some of those walkers ain’t too bad,”

I hit him on the shoulder.

“Can’t I make a joke? Or are ya gunna get jealous, hmm?”

I stopped talking to him after that, focusing instead on trying to make any headway with the pipe he was handcuffed to. After an hour or so, I had only made a tiny dent in the metal. Merle was getting increasingly annoying, and the sun was starting to slowly set in the sky. If we wanted to leave today I’d have to hurry; travelling the city in the dark was a death sentence. At least the walkers at the rooftop door seemed to have given up, or gotten distracted by some other unfortunate souls. They had stopped pounding on the door some time ago.

The saw blade bent slightly, but I persisted, determined to succeed, speeding up. Under the strain of my sawing, the blade bent sideways, and suddenly snapped under the pressure, coming clattering to the floor.

“The fuck did you do?” Merle demanded.

“The blade wasn’t strong enough. It couldn’t get through the pipe. I’m sorry.” I felt suddenly numb. I couldn’t look at him. I’d failed. I’d failed him. He was stuck here, to starve or to be eaten by walkers.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m gonna fucking die up here, god fucking damnit. Look at me, the fuck did you do?” He grabbed my shoulder with his free hand, gripping me hard, shaking me, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” It was one of the first serious, genuine things I’d said to Merle, and it was a death sentence. Tears pricked my eyes. I didn’t have the energy to hide them.

“No. Fuck that, we’re ain’t done yet. You got a knife, right?” He was still staring into my face, but desperate anger had shifted to urgency.

“Yes, but it won’t cut through metal,” I said.

His grim expression told me that he had already figured that out.

“You can’t be serious. You want me to- I can’t,” There had to be another way.

“You got no choice. It’s my hand or my life.”

It took me a few seconds to process this. The only way out would be to cut off his hand. And I would have to be the one to do it.

“Fine. But I’ll do it first thing in the morning. We don’t have time to get out of the city before it gets dark, and I don’t want you bleeding out overnight.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you cared about me,” His shit eating grin was back. Only Merle could look this smug after discovering his hand was about to be cut off.

“Good job you know better then,” I smiled and sat next to him, looking out over the darkening city. At least we were stuck somewhere with an impressive view. The setting sun sent orange streaking through the sky, bathing buildings in a warm glow. I glanced to my side. Merle appeared to also be taking in the sunset in a rare moment of silence.

*

“I’d do the same for you ya know,” Merle said, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

“No you wouldn’t.” I replied. It wasn’t something that upset me, it was just a fact - if the roles were reversed, I had doubts that Merle would have stayed on this rooftop even for Daryl.

“Course I would. Yer one of the only people I can stand in that group, not to mention ya got a mighty fine ass,” He grinned over at me. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“You mean it?”

“Yeah, course I do. I could stare at it all day,”

I hit his shoulder with mine.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I ain’t good with the mushy stuff, don’t push it,” He was still smiling, eyes looking into mine for once instead of straying to glance down my shirt.

“Sounds like you care about me, Merle. More than you usually let on at least,” I was teasing him but this moment meant a lot; in short, Merle was shit at showing anyone affection. For him, this was like a declaration of love.

“Yer not gonna make me say it again so drop it,” he huffed.

“I’m just kidding around. And I didn’t just stay here because you’re a good hunter,” I confessed, staring pointedly into the distance to avoid his eyes.

“Course ya didn’t, ain’t no way you’d let me die without getting a piece of this,” It seemed to be his way of lightening the mood, diverting the seriousness of the conversation.

“We should get some sleep, busy day tomorrow.”

*

When the hot sun awoke me the next morning, I found myself nestled into Merle’s side, head on his shoulder, his free arm wrapped around me. I took a moment to enjoy the feeling of his broad body against mine, before pulling away to wake him up. The sooner we were gone, the better.

“Mornin’ “ he grinned lazily.

“You ready?” I asked, and his expression dropped to one of determined focus.

“As I’ll ever be,”

I retrieved my knife and a lighter from one of the pockets of my rucksack. It would have to do as a means of sanitising the blade as I had very little in the way of medical supplies. Shrugging off the button down I wore over a tank top, I folded it ready to use as a bandage for Merle. I could have sworn his eyes slipped down to my cleavage, far more noticeable now the shirt was off, but I wasn’t in the mood to bring it up.

“Can I have your belt?” I asked.

“Don’t need to ask me twice,” He said, the implied innuendo obvious. He unbuckled it with his free hand and tugged it loose.

I strapped it around his forearm, tight as I could make it, a makeshift tourniquet that would hopefully do something to stop the bleeding. It had to be enough.

Merle reached inside his pocket, and withdrew a small bag of white powder.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” I asked, very aware of the dangers we’d face in the city even if he survived losing his hand. Merle being off his face wouldn’t do us any favours.

“Need a little somethin’ to take the edge off,” He tried to form his usual smug grin, but his mouth wavered slightly. I nodded. Who was I to make that decision for him?

I gave him a minute or so, and when he nodded at me, I took my knife to his wrist and began to cut. There was far more blood than I had thought. And despite Merle’s best efforts to remain stoic, and the effects of the drugs, he was in an unbelievable amount of pain. I had to fight the urge to just give up and cry in a corner, but I did it for him. Even when he begged me to stop, to just make the pain stop. His yelling had begun to attract walkers, a few were banging on the rooftop door and the longer this took the more there would be. He gripped my arm as I cut, hard enough to bruise.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I muttered over and over again as I finished, his hand dropping to the floor with a sickening thunk.

Merle was breathing heavily, gasping through the pain. I pressed my shirt against the wound, tying it tightly and leaving the belt in place. There was so much blood. On my hands, my pants, the rooftop.

“Stay there. I’m going to clear the stairwell, I’ll be right back.”

He nodded.

I unlocked the door and wedged my foot under the door to prevent it opening all the way, a walker slamming forward and right onto my knife. It slumped to the floor. Another was quick to take its place. I worked my way through several before they finally stopped coming. Hopefully only a few had been close enough to hear Merle.

I hurried back toward him. The bleeding seemed to be slowing slightly, though it still showed no signs of stopping. He was losing too much blood. But I wasn’t willing to face that reality.

“You think you can stand?”

“Course I can,” he replied through gritted teeth.

I grabbed his good arm and pulled him forward, helping him stand, putting the arm around my shoulders so I could take some of his body weight. He was heavy, but any help I could give him I would.

We walked to the door and I lead him down the stairwell; it wasn’t wide enough for the two of us side by side, but he leaned on my back and I did my best to steady him on the way down. He stumbled a couple of times, no doubt the blood-loss making him dizzy, but we moved as slowly as I dared, me supporting him when he needed it. At the bottom, another walker lunged towards us. It took me a moment to grab my knife and stick it between its eyes, and I kept the blade in my hand after that. One free hand would have to do to help Merle. It was strange, having to protect him like this. Normally I was certain he’d object to me coddling him like this, but he had no choice but to rely on me for once. We made it to a fire exit around the back of the building in a room with several gas stoves. Merle wasn’t looking his best, blood dripping through the makeshift bandage on his arm. He seemed to have the idea at the same time as me.

“Do it,” He nodded grimly and I grimaced, but didn’t hesitate to light the nearest stove, placing a metal tray on top on the flames to heat through enough to cauterise the stump of his wrist.

“We’re gonna make it back, you know. “

“I know,” He said, but it was easy to see the uncertainty in his eyes.

The metal tray seemed hot enough, and I could tell he was gathering the will to do it, slowly, reluctantly unwrapping the open wound. I wasn’t entirely sure Merle could bring himself to. Gently, I took his arm in my hands, unwrapping it myself. Instead of watching the shirt unravel, he stared down into my face. Despite the circumstances, he still made my cheeks hot with the intensity of his gaze which I somehow managed to meet. I reached up, hooking an arm around his neck and a smile tilted the corners of his mouth. He waited for me to move closer first, and when I leaned my face towards his, he wasted no time in bridging the gap between us with a searing kiss. He was perfectly distracted. It was a shame to waste this moment but I did what had to be done, and drove his wrist down onto the hot metal on the stove.

“Son of a fucking bitch!” He exclaimed, yanking his arm away from the stove, and I winced.

“Shit, I’m sorry, but the bleeding’s stopped, right?”

He glared at me through the pain. “You serious?”

“I said I’m sorry, and I did just stop you from bleeding to death,” I smiled tentatively, and he shook his head, still cursing.

“So ya kiss like that fer a distraction? I’d love ta know what the real thing feels like,”

Kissing him had been stupid. But I was in the mood to be stupid, and I couldn’t resist kissing him again. He somehow mustered up that stupid, endearing grin as I pulled him towards me, lips meeting as his good arm found my waist. I could lose myself in the feeling of kissing Merle, all teeth and tongues colliding with no need to be gentle. His hand scooped me in closer until I was pressed up against him, before drifting to my ass with a squeeze. I hummed in pleasure, forgetting to breathe as he kissed me harder. When we finally broke apart all I wanted was to lean back in and kiss him again and again, to stay like this, pressed as close against him as I could be, not thinking about anything else.

“Knew ya wanted a piece of this,” Merle smirked. God he was insufferable. But I was willing to suffer, so long as he kept kissing me like that.