#now I ain’t saying I agree… but I do think that sometimes people do blow things out of proportion | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

glitchstoxicwaste · 3 years ago

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SLASHERS WITH AN S/O DOING THEIR EYELINERRRR SPECIFICALLY MICHAEL AUDREY MYERS AND BILLY "RAT IN THE ATTIC" LENZ CAUSE THEY'D LOOK FINE AS HELL IN EYELINER AND AIN'T NO BITCH GON TELL ME OTHERWISEEEE

Couldn’t ignore this anymore! Sooooooo I went ahead and got pictures as well!

Another thing that’ll have a second part eventually!!

Also, how in the FUCK do these people do their eyeliner so well?? The fuck????

Slashers with Eyeliner! PT. 1

PT. 2 Coming Soon

Slashers

TW: Slashers looking FABULOUS with eyeliner that you did! Tommy’s is long, pussy and prostitute are said once

↓Continue under the cut!↓

Michael Myers!

Tilts his head in confusion.

Show him a picture of the one you wanna try on him.

“Please Mikey? You’ll be even more badass while killing, totally disrespect your victims by being a baddie ending their life looking better than they could wish to look!”

He shrugs.

Aka: GO FOR IT!

So what do you do?

Something simple but would make his eyes pop!!

Cause let’s face it

His baby blues?

They are beautiful as fuck

You cannot say I’m wrong!

Your choice:

Jason Voorhees!

Pamela is wary at first

She thinks it’s your way of saying he’s ugly

She tells Jason that’s what she THINKS

So you have to explain that it’s just you having a pure mind and blow them away with a compliment

“I just know that Jay would rock eyeliner and be absolutely adorable and bad ass too, show he’s not an evil monster but an absolute baddie!”

Pamela is sold

Jay takes his mask off and plops you on his lap

Something small and subtle, but suits him as well

What you do:

Norman Bates!

He asks you in a way

He stares at you while you apply your eyeliner

He then asks shyly if you’d make him a “pretty boy”

“Baby, you’re a pretty boy without makeup on.”

“But… I wanna FEEL like a pretty boy…”

How can you refuse him?

You can’t.

So you look on Pinterest for something he would like

He chose:

Brahms Heelshire!

Your eyeliner went missing

If just have been Brahms

Venture into the walls, yousee him trying -and failing- to put on eyeliner.

You would call it cute -and it is tbh- but he’s making a huge mess

Once you confront him his reasoning is kinda funny

“I wanted to try it and see if you’d like me more…”

You take off what he did and do a little wing

He demands you do a design so you do

What you do:

Billy Lenz!

Bro, he is fascinated as fuck by it

You wear it sometimes (or a lot depending on who you are)

And he’s seen others wear it

He wants to try it now

You find your eyeliner missing -Brahms 2.0?-

About an hour later Billy pops up and pokes you.

“D-Did Billy do good? Is… i-is piggy proud?”

You chuckle softly and remove some of the mess on his face

You add a sassy ass wing to make his eyes pop

What you do:

Thomas Hewitt!

He freezes

That question was out of the blue

And in front of the others… oh god he doesn’t know what to do

He’s stuck because he does want to but doesn’t know how everyone else would react

Luda Mae gives you a quizzical look

“What’re you tryin’ to say about Tommy?”

You go to explain a bit but Hoyt cuts you off

“Makeup ain’t gonna fix that train wreck”

Queue Monty and Hoyt laughing

Queue an angry Y/N

They stop laughing the second Luda Mae’s wooden spoon is smacking them both, you being the one who is holding it

“Tommy is handsome WITHOUT makeup and a mask, you both look and smell like the exact thing spewing out your mouth, a prostitute’s crusty ass pussy.”

Tommy flushes and agrees to the eyeliner

So you add some PIZZAZZ to it

You decided to do:

Bo Sinclair!

Hard NO at first

Fuck no

Absolutely not

No way in hell

That’s YOUR thing, not his

Pester him a lot, never ending

Still says no

Pout and start to fake cry OR say that Lester will do it because he’s more of a man than Bo will ever be and he will agree

Do the most simple and tiny thing or else he will get mad

You decided:

Vincent Sinclair!

He will get self conscious at first

Explain it’s for creative purposes

Tell him you just wanna practice

Say you do better in others than yourself and that he is beautiful without it

“I’m not saying you aren’t handsome honey, I just wanna use you as my canvas for my eyeliner because I work best on others than on myself.”

He will eventually agree

You do something bold and extravagant like:

Lester Sinclair!

He will agree right away

Happy to help

Thinks it’s cool and has wanted to do it but was shy to ask

Preppy and happy when you ask

Babe will legit flaunt it

You wanna show him off and use his face to practice makeup?

Do it

Legit just hold up your makeup when he isn’t busy or leaving soon and he will sit down and close his eyes happily

Do anything

You blow Bo and Vin away by doing:

Asa Emory!

Glares at you

Why do you wanna do makeup on him?

That requires taking off the mask

That’s dangerous (my phone autocorrected “dangerous” to danganronpa… wtf????)

Just threaten to do it on someone else and he will agree with a groan

He’s a formal man

So you do something more formal and simple for him

But also you add a little zing

You do:

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paralleledmediaexperience · 4 years ago

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right before my birthday back in May someone made a post about Jack needing more love and hugs, and I had this idea in the tags and then went and wrote about a thousand words of this and then. forgot it existed!! anyway I’ve mostly polished it up now. enjoy Jack telling one of his dads he loves him and then not only being hugged but also hearing it back!! it’s what our boy deserves!!!!!

Now with part two!!!!!

Jack hadn’t meant to fix everything, in his defense. Yes, they’d defeated god with his powers, which had unintentionally released Amara, who had agreed to take her brother’s powers from Jack and then let the world mostly be as long as she got the chance to see him every once in a while. She’d returned the universe to normal, with a few additions for their happiness, as Amara had said. Dean had choked out Cas’ name, and Amara had frowned before replying that it might take a bit more time.

They had gone back to the bunker and then the bunker had been thoroughly overrun the whole next week by- it seemed- everyone the Winchesters knew, including a few faces who were apparently as back from the dead by Amara’s hand as Mary was last time she owed a Winchester a favor. Through it all- old friends and odd allies and more- Jack knows Dean isn’t doing well. Isn’t sleeping well. There’s only been one night- well, Jack hadn’t seen Dean drinking but he’d heard Sam’s arguing and Dean’s short, choppy answers, and it was familiar enough.

He’d googled “what to do when my dad misses someone and we can’t talk to them yet,” and wikihow had good suggestions- he’d read through the sections for both short-term separations, and managing the death of a loved one. He hadn’t really been able to figure out which would be more helpful. It had turned out to be the death of a loved one, which… shouldn’t be surprising, no matter that Cas would be back. Soon.

He couldn’t make Dean do any of the things on the list, but it had suggested that the person would like to feel loved during their time of grieving.

And when he’d searched “how to make someone feel loved,” the first article had said the easiest way was simply to tell them. So when Dean hands him a plate of pancakes with the bacon cooked just how Jack likes it, Jack thinks it’s such a small thing to make his heart feel so big and warm. And he smiles and says, “Thanks Dean. I love you.”

Unfortunately, Jack hasn’t actually grabbed the plate when he says this, and Dean’s hands drop it. The sound of the plate shattering on the tile is only half as upsetting as the wounded look in Dean’s eyes as he looks back at Jack. And Jack isn’t sure why it went so wrong but he looks away immediately, the shame of causing that hurt somehow and the slow horror of realizing he’d ruined the breakfast that Dean had made him turning his stomach into knots. He steps back almost unconsciously before remembering the plate had just broken, and in just his socks, a piece of ceramic jabs into his heel and slices him open, and he actually can’t help the small cry of surprise and pain that slips out.

“Jeez, kid,” Dean breathes out, and Jack gets pushed into the nearest chair. “Get that out of your foot while I clean this up.”

The warm feeling in his chest was gone, pressed into something cold and tight in Jack’s throat. He’d just- the article had said it makes people happy to hear they are loved in times of grief.

He watches, silent as Dean turns off the stove and sweeps up the wasted food and plate pieces, soundly dumping it in the trash before digging under the sink for a second and coming out with a clean dishrag and a box of bandaids. It’s only when he sees Dean stop and take a quiet, private shuddering breath to forcibly relax his tensed shoulders that he lowers his gaze again. He picks the sharp sliver of plate out of his skin through the sock before peeling it off to examine the cut it left. Very shallow, but it still stretches two inches along on the inside of his heel, the blood sluggishly dripping out.

It’s not bad, but very inconvenient, so he almost heals it before remembering that Amara had said not to use his powers after she took Chuck’s powers. Not until she returned and okayed it, at least. He sighs, pinching it together with his fingers, half heartedly wishing it had been more awkward and antagonistic between his aunt and his dads, so he could have maybe convinced Dean that they shouldn’t listen to what Amara told him to do. It probably wouldn’t have worked anyway.

He hears Dean turn the water on to damp the cloth, but he can’t make himself look back up again. His gaze goes back down to the floor as Dean starts to turn back toward him, focusing on the small smear of red on the floor, where Dean had dragged the broom through the spots of blood he’d left.

He raises his hands as Dean approaches, ready to be handed the stuff to bandage himself up, but Dean just beats them away as he sits down next to Jack, hunching in as he grabs the injured foot. Jack still feels unbearably small in the silence between them, both him and Dean leaning in and feeling small and unwilling to speak as he wipes away the blood and then dries the skin around it. Jack grabs two of the bandaids and opens them, and Dean wraps them around the cut before patting it and drawing away, and Jack doesn’t know what else to do.

“Sorry,” He says softly, because he isn’t sure what he did wrong but it hurt Dean. And he wasn’t even angry, Jack could tell, cause his shoulders hadn’t tensed the way they did when Dean was trying not to lash out- they’d tensed the way they did when Dean was trying not to fall apart. Jack’s felt like he had to know the difference for a while now.

“Jack,” Dean says, and it’s so sharp that Jack jerks up to look at him. Had he read that wrong? Was Dean angry? But when he meets Dean’s eyes it’s still that hurting, the one that Jack could remember all the way from back when he was a newborn, or something close to it. “No, you don’t-” Dean lifted a hand to his face and dragged it down with a rough breath, and Jack wasn’t expecting him to look back at him but he did, eyes burning into Jack’s. “You don’t have to be sorry. That was on me- I dropped the plate.”

Jack tries not to squirm, because it’s not about the plate, is it? The food had been thrown away and the plate had hurt him, but he’d said he loved Dean and that had made him drop it. “I’m sorry that I-”

“Jack,” Dean cuts across again, and this time his brows are drawing together the way they do when he’s angry. But he looks away from Jack again, and he can tell somehow that it’s not anger at him. Dean doesn’t even want Jack to be looking at this anger. “You say whatever you want, okay? I’m not upset that you said it.”

It isn't that he thinks Dean doesn’t mean the words, but Jack’s also not sure Dean believes them either. “I am, though,” he says, petulant, crossing his arms and letting his foot fall back down to the ground, ignoring the bite of pain from treating the cut so roughly. “If it hurt you, I shouldn’t have-”

Dean cuts him off again. “No. Jack, that’s-” He struggles for a second, but Jack just wants to understand. Unbidden, he holds his breath and Dean draws his in, trying to find the words.

“You get to love me if you want to,” Dean grinds out, and Jack realizes there are tears gathering along his lower lashes. “And you get to tell me if you want to. This hurt ain’t about you.”

That does clear it up, somehow, and Jack nods and looks back down at his hands, realizing there’s still blood on his fingers, too. Dean turns away enough that they can almost pretend he’s not rubbing the tears out of his eyes. “I won’t say it if you don’t want me to either, though,” he says, and he grabs the cloth from the table where Dean had left it, finding a clean spot on the damp corner and using it.

“That ain’t how it works, kid.” He doesn’t elaborate. He just grabs the box of bandaids and closes it before gathering up the paper wrapping. It gets thrown out, and the box stowed back under the sink, and then Jack is just staring at Dean.

“How does it work?”

They both stop. Jack didn’t expect to actually let the question out, but it’s off of his lips before he can seal them.

Dean is frozen, staring at him.

“Not like that,” Dean says eventually, weariness dripping from each word. “Jack, do you… do you want us to say…”

He doesn’t say it, the kitchen fan blowing white noise into the quiet air between them. Jack knows that he could ask and Dean would say it right now. Dean always gives the people he loves what they want, what they need, and this would just be the next thing he could offer. Something he could give.

“I don’t need you to.” Jack says, honestly. “I know. I just wanted you to hear it, because I don’t think I’ve ever gotten to say it to you.”

Dean squints at him. “You... “ His eyes are wet again. Without warning, Dean grabs him and pulls him up, into a hug, and Jack grabs back as tight as he can, feeling lost. But it’s good, it’s good just like every time Dean hugs him. He squeezes his eyes shut tight as if he can’t feel the tears welling up in his own eyes, hot and stinging. “I love you too, Jack. I don’t get- you and-” Dean sputters off, still holding him. “If you want to hear it, you let me know. I’ll get better at it.”

“Maybe every once in a while,” Jack says, trying not to let his voice sound like he’s crying. It does anyway.

“Alright then,” Dean says, and he squeezes him one more time before letting go, turning away abruptly and bustling back to the stove. Jack wipes his eyes on his sleeve, his whole chest feeling empty and full all at once. The rag had fallen out of his hands sometime in their conversation, and he leans down to grab it, pausing to wipe up the blood on the floor. Dean comes back a minute later and pulls it out of his hand before passing him another plate. “Here, since the last one humpty-dumpty’d.”

They don’t continue the conversation. Jack eats his breakfast as Dean fixes himself another cup of coffee, and they sit quietly, waiting for Cas to come home.

#Jack Kline #Dean Winchester #supernatural #my fic #creativecaviar #pancake cinematic universe

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inkmemes · 4 years ago

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futurama ( 1999 - 2013 ) sentence starters ↪ taken from the animated science fiction show. alter as you see fit ♡

“let's get the hell out of here already! screw history!”

“when you do things right, people won't be sure you've done anything at all.”

“you have to use a light touch, like a safecracker or a pickpocket.”

"stop! the spirit is willing, but the flesh is spongy and bruised."

"she's stuck in an infinite loop and he's an idiot. that's love for you."

"all i know is my gut says maybe."

“i've never seen a super nova blow up. but if it's anything like my old chevy nova, it'll light up the night sky!”

"every christmas my mom would get a fresh goose, for goose-burgers, and my dad would whip up special eggnog out of bourbon and ice cubes."

"what do i look like, a guy who's not lazy?"

“is heaven missing an angel, cuz you've got nice cans!”

“help! a guinea pig tricked me!"

"[name], if i said you said you had a beautiful body, would you take your pants off and dance around a little."

"drugs are for weirdos and hypnosis is for weirdos with big eyebrows."

"[name], it would never work between us. you're a man, and i'm a woman. we're just too different."

“screw you, ill have my own contest. with black jack ... and hookers. forget the contest.”

“ah, she's built like a steakhouse but she handles like a bistro.”

"spare me your space age techno babble, [name].”

"it's sort of a two person pyramid scheme."

"i don't want to live on this planet anymore."

"you were doing well, until everyone died."

“if we hit that bullseye, the rest of the dominoes will fall like a house of cards. checkmate.”

“i am the man with no name. [muse name], at your service.”

“in the game of chess, you can never let your adversary see your pieces.”

"this is the worst kind of discrimination, the kind against me."

"you watched it... you can't unwatch it."

“valentine’s day is coming? aw crap! i forgot to get a girlfriend again!”

"hold on to your dookie, it’s about to get spooky!"

"i'm tired of this room and everyone in it."

"i'm so embarrassed. i wish everyone else was dead."

"you can't just have your characters announce how they feel! that makes me feel angry!"

"i don't have emotions, and sometimes that makes me very sad."

"if, for any reason you're not satisfied, i hate you."

"that young man fills me with hope. plus some other emotions which are weird and deeply confusing."

"i've dreamed about you a lot since you disappeared. what did you want to tell me?"

"what do you think the meaning of life was anyway?"

“you're a pimple on society's ass and you'll never amount to anything!”

“life and death are a seamless continuum.”

“if anyone wants me, i'll be in the angry dome.”

“and the worst part is, i had to have the breakup sex by myself!”

“they said i was dumb, but i proved them.”

“what's the point of living if i can't say ass?”

“i'll be stuffing coal so far down your stocking you'll be coughing up diamonds!”

“we're all pawns in his diabolical game of checkers.”

"wait, i'm having one of those things, a headache, with pictures!"

“sorry, i didn't realize i was already here.”

"guess what you're an accessory to!"

"why does ross, the largest friend, not simply eat the other friends?"

“there's no scientific consensus that life is important.”

"we cooked our shoes in the dryer and ate them! now we're bored!"

“i'm just as important as him. it's just that, the kind of importance i have ... it doesn't matter if i don't do it.”

“oh what a foolish squid i’ve been.”

“my instinct is to hide in this barrel, like the wily fish.”

"that was bad, and you should feel bad!"

"technically correct - the best kind of correct!"

"and here is where i keep my assorted lengths of wire!"

"oh wait, you are serious! let me laugh even harder!"

"i gotta practice my stabbing!"

"that's the saltiest thing i've ever tasted! and i once ate a big, heaping bowl of salt!"

“i apologize for nothing!”

"die young and leave a beautiful corpse! that's what i always say."

"here's to another lousy millennium."

“but i am already in my pajamas.”

“windmills do not work that way. goodnight.”

"you win again gravity."

"when push comes to shove, you got to do what you love, even if it's not a good idea.”

“but existing's basically all i do!”

“when will the killing end?"

"i'll be whatever i want to do."

"the use of words expressing something other than their literal intention. now that. is. irony."

"could you ask a little more sexfully?"

"hooray! i'm useful!"

"awesome. awesome to the max."

"some breaking occurred, the dolly was involved, that's about all we know."

“you want me to do two things?”

i love stealin', i love takin' things!

“i believe that qualifies as ill. at least from a technical standpoint.”

"that was the old me. he's dead now."

"jail ain't so bad; you can make sangria in the toilet. ‘course, it's shank or be shanked."

"one word. thundercougarfalconbird."

"of all my friends, you're the first."

“girls like swarms of lizards, right?”

“i lost it. in a volcano.”

"i'm gonna get you so many lizards!"

"who needs courage when you have a gun?"

“let's go! i've got jelly in my underpants!”

"interesting if true."

“i did do the nasty in the pasty!”

"something tells me i could easily beat those trained professionals."

"the two of you are good friends? but i thought we would be good friends!"

"it's like a party in my mouth, except everyone's throwing up."

“i'm shocked. shocked! well, not that shocked.”

“it's me! no one else look in this mirror!"

“you ever think you only like girls cause you're supposed to?”

"we don't gotta put up with this! we got poli sci degrees."

“sorry, i suffer from a very sexy learning disorder.”

“did somebody say something about a free hot meal?”

“you gotta do what you gotta do.”

"too many bones? not enough cash?"

“hey sexy mama, wanna kill all humans?”

"i don't know how you did that."

"the butter in my pocket is melting!"

"well ... first i got up and had a piece of toast ..."

“i can't wait til i'm old enough to feel ways about stuff.”

“interesting! no ... wait ... the other thing. tedious.”

"i knew you come crawling back, like a bird on its belly!"

“we both know you won't make it halfway before the craving sets in! then you'll come crawling back for another taste of sweet sweet candy. bam!"

“indeed so, most indeededly.”

"and by metaphorically, i mean get your coat."

“[vehicle]'s ready except for this cup holder, and i should have that done in 12 hours."

"stop. stop! i will destroy you." [ bonus if the receiver is doing something mundane to sender ]

“just make a simple cake. and this time, if someone's going to jump out of it, make sure to put them in after you cook it.”

“lies, lies and slander!”

“you raised my hopes and dashed them quite expertly, sir!”

“but going through a divorce together, you can't pretend that didn't bring us closer together.”

“when you say the human body is the most efficient thing to use as a battery, wouldn't anything make a better battery? like a potato? or a battery?”

“i'll have you know that i bejazzle my own underpants!”

“i'm sorry you had to see that, [name], usually i let my sadness fester quietly inside as a mental illness.”

“i'm not drunk, i'm mentally ill! but i agree with what, what you said.”

“this is a cool way to die!”

#rp meme #rp starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence starters

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hartigays · 3 years ago

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Rafebarry Prompt for you! So what about some of Barry’s pals being over at the trailer and they’re all just like “Damn Bro” at seeing Rafe (who’s just living his best chaotic life, being Barry’s housewife/partner in crime) and Barry’s just all smug about it like “Yeah. I’m hittin’ that. Be jealous.”

tw: mature themes (drug use, sexual implications) and some homophobic language (just a comment from some loser tho)

rafe’s bike tears through swampy grass and dirt with a vengeance as he pulls into barry’s front yard, leaving tire marks in his wake.

when he pulls off his helmet, the first thing he sees are people spilling in and out of the trailer. people rafe doesn’t recognize - some of them attractive, even.

which is… infuriating, to put it lightly.

barry clearly hadn’t felt the need to keep rafe in the loop, inviting him over without informing him that half of the cut would be in attendance as well.

like, seriously, what the fuck? rafe had thought - well. he’d intended to come here to pick up some blow, and maybe, possibly, perhaps let barry have his way with him while he’s at it.

barry can’t have his way with him if half the population of north carolina is stacked up inside the trailer. and that’s just. frustrating.

rafe kind of wants to drive his bike straight through the trailer, mowing some partygoers down and end this whole shebang right here and now. but, as barry has made explicitly clear time and time again, rafe is Not Allowed to harm and/or kill people on his property.

it’s sometimes irritating, this whole thing they’ve started. this casual fling that’s maybe not-so-casual anymore considering rafe agreed to be exclusive with barry not even two days ago.

there are just. so many rules, like no maiming, or killing, or… actually, that’s about it. but that’s two rules too many. rafe doesn’t like rules, or being told what he can or can’t do.

barry is just lucky rafe likes him. kind of. sort of. somewhat.

otherwise, barry would be drifting along the bottom of the ocean somewhere, flesh being nibbled away at by fish and sharks and the like.

rafe flings his helmet towards his bike, not bothering to see if it landed anywhere convenient, before storming across the yard and shoving himself through a cluster of people to get inside the trailer.

barry is sitting on the couch, all sorts of people surrounding him, looking like he’s already fucked up beyond belief.

which is also annoying, because he was supposed to get fucked up beyond belief with rafe, then mandhandle rafe into bed to have his wicked way with him. like always.

“ayy, country club!” barry practically shouts over the noice, his accent even thicker and more drawn out than usual. “you made it!”

“yeah, barry, i made it,” rafe snaps, then sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

look, he’s not against parties or anything. actually, he’s quite in favor of them. he just… did not plan for his day to go like this.

rafe wanted barry’s full attention, which is now virtually impossible given the amount of bodies that are currently filling the room.

barry just looks at rafe with glazed eyes, leaning back casually against the couch cushions. “aw, don’t you go pouting on me ‘n shit, rafe cameron. ain’t you always down for a party or some shit like that?”

“a little heads up would’ve been nice,” rafe tells him, his temper rearing it’s ugly head again and bleeding into his voice. “look, can i just get my shit so i can get out of here?”

rafe moves around the coffee table, elbowing a few drunk idiots out of his way as he does. barry eyes him as he comes closer, before suddenly swinging one arm out and wrapping it around rafe’s waist. he ropes rafe in close enough that rafe stumbles a bit over barry’s feet, sprawling right into his lap.

“see, ain’t that more like it, country club?” barry purrs, his lips pressed against rafe’s ear.

rafe feels a shiver rocket down his spine, but also a flare of anxiety.

barry is certainly fucked up beyond comprehension, and they haven’t exactly talked about making their relationship public. rafe has no idea if this is something barry will regret in the morning and end up cutting rafe off.

but to be fair, if barry did wake up and decide to tell rafe to fuck off, rafe would probably just kill him. he might just kill him anyway, just because he feels like it.

and since barry’s inevitable death is hurtling towards them at breakneck speed, rafe might as well enjoy barry’s final moments while he can.

so he lets barry kiss him, full on the mouth, on display for the hundred or so other people milling about the room.

rafe, regrettably, makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat when he feels barry’s tongue dip into his mouth, sweeping across his own.

regrettably, because some fucking weird ass next to barry leans in close to watch. rafe can see the movement out of the corner of his eye.

but barry isn’t deterred. he might be a little encouraged, even, because he deepens the kiss even more, pressing in so close that rafe feels like they could crawl inside of each other and form one cohesive nightmare of a person.

“ain’t peg you for a fag, barry,” the guy comments, his words slurring. he burps after he speaks, and barry detaches his lips from rafe to look over at the source of the noise.

“the fuck you just say to me?” barry snaps, digging his fingers into rafe’s hips to keep him in place when rafe moves to get up, ready to just slit this guy’s throat and be done with it. “ain’t you in my damn house, fuckass? who the fuck you think you’re talkin’ to?”

“hey, man, didn’t mean no offense,” the guy says, raising his hands in mock surrender before burping again. “jus’ askin’.”

“getcho’ dumbass out my house, bro,” barry tells him, removing one hand from rafe’s hips for only a moment, just to shove the guy out of his seat.

the still nameless man just shrugs, gulping down the remnants of his beer before getting up and disappearing into the crowd.

“i think you guys are cute,” a girl giggles from where she’s seated, across from the couch rafe and barry are currently planted on.

barry looks up at rafe, and it’s almost fond and god, that’s disgusting. rafe wants to soak himself in it, let it marinate until it’s deeply ingrained in every fiber of his being.

“sho’ are,” barry agrees with her, still looking up at rafe. he’s got one hand beneath rafe’s shirt now, nails raking over his back.

rafe shudders, wishing he could dissolve every person in this room right this very moment so he can curl up inside barry and make a home there.

“gotta say, ‘m a little jealous, man,” some other guy pipes up from barry’s other side.

rafe looks over at him, one brow arched, finding the guy staring right back as he hits some sort of pipe.

probably filled with meth, based on the state of the guy’s teeth.

classy.

“guess you just gon’ have to be jealous, then,” barry tosses back, not bothering to spare the guy a glance before returning his mouth to rafe’s.

the party comes and goes, faster than rafe anticipated, but that maybe can be attributed to the fact that barry keeps rafe glued to him at all times, practically devouring him every chance he can get, and showing him off to every person who happens to look their way.

rafe will admit, it’s a little satisfying, knowing how proud barry is to have staked his claim. he’s surprised that he’s so okay with barry being so possessive of him, too.

rafe cameron normally does not like the idea of being owned by anyone or anything. at least, he hadn’t up until now.

at this point, he’s pretty sure he’d let barry put a dog collar on him that reads property of barry the coke dealer, without complaint.

now, lounging in barry’s bed, sweat-soaked and panting, rafe sparks a blunt. he takes a long hit and passes it to barry.

“you did this on purpose,” rafe says, knowingly.

barry just grins up at the ceiling like a shark, shrugging as he hits the blunt.

“you’re pretty, rafe cameron. and you’re mine,” barry tells him, passing the weed back. “what’s it hurt to show off a little? you ain’t die or nothing.”

“never said it was a bad thing,” rafe snorts. “just maybe give me a little warning next time you plan to parade me around as your trophy wife.”

“like you ain’t get off on all them people talking ‘bout how jealous they are that i get to have you.”

barry has a point, rafe will admit. not out loud, mind you, but still. in the quiet of his mind, where no one else can hear, he agrees with barry wholeheartedly.

“can you blame them? i mean, look at me,” rafe says with a snooty little sniff, running a hand along his jaw. “you landed yourself a masterpiece. people are gonna notice.”

“you so damn full of yourself, country club,” barry snorts. “imma have to knock that ego down a peg. i been too nice to you.”

“says the guy whose ego grew ten times larger just by being a show-off about his boyfriend.”

barry rolls over onto his side, watching rafe hit the blunt with heavily-lidded eyes. “boyfriend, huh? ain’t we a bit old for that?”

“you literally called me your boyfriend like, fifty times today. do not even- ”

barry shuts him up mid-sentence by taking the blunt from rafe’s hand and putting it out on the ashtray next to the bed, tangling his fingers in rafe’s hair, and pulling him in for a kiss that’s all tongues and teeth.

rafe wanted to finish his sentence, had planned on finishing it, but barry doesn’t give him the chance. not with the way he’s kissing him right now.

within a matter of moments, rafe forgets what he was planning to say in the first place. but whatever, he’s fucking tired, barry feels good and smells good and tastes good. so what if he’s a trophy wife, so what if he may or may not get off on people being jealous that barry gets to date him. to own him.

it’s all arbitrary.

instead of figuring out what he was going to say, rafe breaks away from barry’s lips, fastening his mouth to barry’s neck and biting down.

his teeth sink in deep, and he hopes with everything he has left in him that it leaves a scar.

#rafebarry #outer banks #hope u enjoy!#my fics #ask #goodnightandbillyrobicheaux

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perriwinklesblog · 3 years ago

Text

I know some people prefer consistent content but I like to take it as it comes and sometimes life happens and other projects need to take priority.

So right now, I consider this to be a mid season break. Techno going into the prison was like the midseason finale for the Dream Prison Arc and Wilbur and Ranboo’s stuff was like their midseason finale and the Red Banquet where the egg was contained, was a midseason finale and alllllllll the mini episodes we’ve had since there are like specials etc.

You know, like how in Dr Who you can go a few years without a solid season but get a special at Christmas and New Year? You know like that.

So like all other programs, stories, videos I watch, I am coming up with ways in which the next bit could go. Some are a bit out there and definitely not happening, others I could see happening.

This is long and pointless and full or errors both grammatically and spelling wise but I had fun thinking of what could happen next. Read if you want.

Dream escapes prison with Technoblades help. A server wide man hunt comes for Dream but unlike his videos he had stolen the spare armour in the prison and so is pretty OP making it easier for him to put distance between his enemies and himself.

Technoblade returns to the artic and him, Phil and Will come to an in pass, a slight disagreement. Philza whilst having sided with Dream before, knows he’s not a good guy. Only used him to help destroy lmanburg for his own morals. It was not because he agreed with Dream. In his eyes, he was using Dream for his own goals. Plus, now he’s seen the aftermath of Dream’s terror on the citizens he realises the man perhaps shouldn’t be set to run entirely free. This slightly goes against Techno’s beliefs but the main issue of tension between them is Technoblade willingly placing himself in danger when he didn’t need too and helping release the man who tortured Tommy and clearly has something going on with Ranboo thats bad.

Wilbur is angry because Techno won’t say where Dream has gone due to an agreement between the two and Technoblade is a man of his word. Wilbur wishes to thank and meet the man who saved him. This also worries Philza because he’s worried he’ll revert back to the man he saw the day he blew up L’Manburg. Over all tension between the three

Niki and Wilbur finally meet and it is as heartbreaking as it is beautifully tragic. Wilbur apologises but misses the mark, misses what hurt her which hurts her more. There’s an explosion with their argument that leaves a stunned silence. Niki asks Wilbur to leave. He does so.

This leads to a Wilbur and Ranboo conversation where Ranboo tries to reason with Wilbur about Niki’s side. Wilbur brushes it off because much like the blue counterpart we all miss, he’s not a fan of the negative emotion. He tries to focus on the business etc and let’s slip that Dream has escaped somehow. Ranboo leaves. Wilbur is confused but distracted by a confrontation with Quackity.

Ranboo then starts his stream and he’s in the fucking panic room and he’s panicking because there are signs so many signs and they don’t make sense. Theres lesson rules, asking about the missing journal and it’s like every issue he’s ever faced is staring right back at him because Ranboo has never really resolved any issue, just pushed and moved on. He’s tried but that usually failed and for a while he’s ignored all the issues and here they are in front of him, all at one. A big volcanic eruption of anxiety and stress, and it ain’t sitting with him.

Dream appears. But is it really him? We never know because after a conflict and a back and fourth about everyone in Ranboo’s life eventually landing on a threat about Michael and Tubbo, he blacks out and the stream ends.

Quackity is livid with everything thats happening, the careful empire he’s building is falling apart and he’s shifting the blame around from person to person. He manipulates everyone around them into believing this is somehow their own fault and that they must make it up to him because he has been nothing but kind and loving to them. He gave them a place, a roof on their head when they had nothing. He misses out the parts where he insulted and or destroyed their homes, but it works and his employee “family” become the main bounty hunters for Dream, with Bad and Ant tagging along since they’re guards.

Now the streams relating to the manhunt displays everyones wants. They’re all doing this wanting something, and whilst it’s to gain Quackity’s favour back they’re all doing that for different reasons. Their motivations are somewhat different even if on the surface they are the same and so on the man hunts, because there will be many, this is slowly picked apart and through that the manipulation of Quackity is revealed and then we see a parrallel between Quackity and previous people in power where they start to get desperate to keep control over the thing they’ve created. Because that’s been one of (not the only) issues with every leader on the server, the control and their feeling of lack of, even if thats not truly the case. But you get these moments between all the characters where they’re trying to outwit one another, trying to figure it out without blatantly saying it. Maybe Foolish does. He’s a bit of a himbo.

Ponk always said he’d leave the door open for Sam and I truly think something happens, whether it be a look in the mirror with one of his guards going too far with someone or a conversation with Quackity where Quackity holds the mirror up to Sam maliciously, that causes him to hit the rock bottom and just break and I want that breakdown in front of Ponk. And I want Ponk not necessarily to give him the second chance off the bat but give him that peace offering, give him that hand to pull him up. I want him to take Sam to Niki and explain to Niki we’ve done bad things in the past, this is a safe haven and I believe Sam needs help and a place he can truly feel safe and for a moment Sam does and this begins his raid to redemption in gaining back the trust of the people in his lives. He becomes Tubbo 2.0 spying on Quackity like Tubbo did for Wilbur, but maybe less... bad.

But what of the Fiances? Wellllll,. With Dream escaping him and George meet in secret. George confesses he doesn’t believe it’s real and for a long time has been struggling with reality. He misses the early days, misses when they’d just have fun. Dream says he was having fun and George says I wasn’t. Dream shows true regret for George but says its too late now, can’t change the past. George agrees. Dream asks him what he’s going to do and he simply replies with “Sleep” Ending stream.

Sapanps stream is a lot more WE ARE GOING ON A DREAM HUNT WE’RE GOING TO CATCH A BIG ONE, I’M NOT SCARED. vibes. He’s gearing up, he’s suiting up and he’s saluting pets on the way. He made a promise and with everything else going on in his life, he’s ready to throw himself into a distraction. He tries to convince George to help him but he waves him off saying, what’s the point? and mumbles something about divine powers and dreams which Sapnap just shakes off. He tries to find Karl in Kinoko but instead comes across Quackity. They have a blow up about how They abandoned each other, both did wrong but neither see the other side of things and eventually he tells him to leave. Quackity says okay, and the place blows up. Foolish cries in the corner. All that heard work but the boss said so. Sapnap ends the whole thing saying at least he’s there for Karl and Quackity pauses and is like why? And Sapnap is all like you care. Just go, you’ve done enough damage, I can’t have you damaging him too. And after a little more but but but between the two, Quackity goes. Sapnap leaves the place to burn, going to find Dream and hopefully Karl on the way.

Karls in space. That’s where his latest travels have taken him and where the other side decided was his time to visit. Here I see a Wizard in Oz scenario where solutions to some issues will be revealed for Karl in relation to the other side. When it comes to his Dream SMP stuff, he starts confusing names and people more and Sapnap is worried about him, considering keeping him in a safe place. The only place that survived was the library with Karls books. Karl says he’ll stay there. Thats where the answers are anyway. Sapnap is unsure and gets bad vibes but is distracted by a lead on Dream and agrees, he tells him he’ll be back soon.

They don’t see each other for a long ass time

I’m not sure on the egg stuff but I do feel Niki and Puffy should have a conversation about all the shit thats happened and Puffy trying to help Niki and vice versa. I feel like Puffy should reach out to Foolish and try and comprehend what the fuck is he doing with Quackity. They have a little argument but it comes to a point where Puffy realises she cannot shield Foolish from harm and that her son ,just make his own decisions. All she can do is guide him where she can and hope that when it comes down to it he will make the right choice. She hopes she didn’t fail this dependant like she did with Dream her duckling. Though only she sees it as failure.

Jack and Niki finally talk. She goes searching for some things and comes to his new place, he tells her to fuck off and that he doesn’t need anyone. They all abandon him. Niki pretty much does the verbal equivalent of slap some sense into him as she and him discuss how he is not the centre of everything, how he is not the sun. She was hurting, and he didn’t bother, no instead they just fed off each others anger and once he couldn’t feed of her or anyone else he isolated himself. She tries to convince him there are better things in life, there are better ways to place your energy etc. A lot of healing talk with Jack being stubborn. Eventually Jack finds himself at the door of Quackity after sticking to stubbornness, not quite ready to heal and he becomes the next member of Las Nevadas. A big blow to Wilbur too.

They finally destroy the egg with magic. I dunno how but either destroy or hatch. Either or would be great. Red comes out the thing and I want a gay ass villain please. Bring it Red. Let’s go. Invite him to the server, bring the fire, bring the plant power Red. He can be the villain that unites everyone in a begrudging way. Like they all hate each other but fine i guess we’ll team to stop Red and Ant.

Skeppy’s dead.

Tubbo and Ranboo have a fight but Ranboo says “Weren’t we enough?” and it’s in relation to him and Michael (this happens before panic room). Thats when Tubbo realises where the wires got crossed and he immediately rectifies it but explaining he’s happy with the two of them but he wanted a job, something to work towards. Family wise he’s got it all, he’s content with it all but he wanted a project and one that didn’t incite violence. Fun rivalry sure, but he’s done with violence, he’s doesn’t want to add to the nightmares he already has. He wants competition but not one that will put all he loves in danger. So they talk it out and Ranboo feels more confident and Tubbo asks him to tell him if he ever takes anything too far because he can get a little carried away sometimes. Ranboo agrees and then they have a cute playdate with Michael. Then Ranboo does the thing with Wilbur and ends up in panic room.

Tommy and Tubbo discuss everything and lay it all out on the table because Tommy doesn’t want to be on the other side again with Tubbo. Tubbo doesn’t understand why everyone is making such a big deal about his burger business and Tommy tries to explain the issues with Quackity and the level of intensity he’s seen with Wilbur but Tubbo just laughs it off. They eventually talk about Ranboo and Tommy relents saying he likes Ranboo although he does sometimes get jealous of how Tubbo seems to have it all. Tubbo tells Tommy of his nightmares and so does Tommy to Tubbo. They come to an understanding with each other and understand that no matter how long they go apart, there is always a space shaped to fit them perfectly in their lives for them. Tubbo and Tommy then go play some pranks.

Wilbur is unhappy with the pranks and gives a lecture and they get into a fight. This leads to Wilbur talking man to man to Quackity. Theres some weird sexual tension. Once again they’re trying to outwit one another. That when we get to the crazy stuff.

And here’s where I get crazy with my stuff.

Ponk is digging in his lil cave when he accidentally breaks through to a random room buried deep underground. Tommy’s there trying to scam him out of something he has. Tubbo and Ranboo too. When they get to this room Ranboo thinking it’s the panic one and freaks out, but the others calm him down. Ponk thinking theres diamonds in the room storms ahead setting off some traps but surviving. Tubbo opens one of the chests and just says theres a bucket in there. Ponk pulls it out and says it has a named fish in it.

You see where I’m going.

They empty the bucket whilst asking what the fish is called. They are interrupted by a voice. It’s Sally.

Dream had captured her and bound her to a bucket and put her in the chest and hid her from Wilbur.

She has been released. She freaks out over how much time has past because for her nothing has changed at all. She thought it might have been a couple of hours or something since Dream pulled that prank on her but clearly not.

They all catch up and the season ends with Sally and Wilbur meeting in front of Quackity, Dream in the shadows and Sally and Wilbur turning to see Fundy who just freaks the fuck out.

Oh and just a side, Callahan is the last member of the syndicate and God of the server and is having fun playing with the mortals.

And then I have the next season planned out and how I’d end the whole thing but like until then. This is it. Mid Season to finale. How I picture things happening.

None of this will happen but isn’t it fun to imagine?

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sleepysailorghost · 3 years ago

Text

Benny's Big Score

It turns out that New Reno was not a great place.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, a solution to his problems. But it wasn't.

New Reno was dirty, but not in the same glimmery-glittery way that New Vegas was. It wasn't like when he had come to Vegas for the first time, the Bootstraps with him. He was alone. There were no chairmen to protect him, no brothers willing to die with him.

Sitting in the dingy bar, he curses the courier under his breath.

"Oh, don't get me started on Couriers." a melodic voice chimed in. A smooth-voiced ghoul in a fancy pre-war tuxedo sat down on the barstool next to Benny. "You wouldn't know the half of it."

"A courier done you wrong too?"

"I gave as good as I got." the ghoul replied, and in him, Benny recognized that they were both well-dressed men who had been chased out by couriers.

"And yet we're still sitting here in this bar, ring-a-ding." Benny took a sip of his drink. Disgusting as it was (and expensive!), Benny's pride as a Bootstrap and leader of the Chairmen kept him from spitting it out. "Say, who are you anyhow?"

The ghoul rolled his eyes under the sunglasses he wore.

"200 years ago everyone knew my name. Dean Domino's the name, don't wear it out."

Benny's eyes widened.

"That for real? Where ya been hiding out all this time?" Benny questioned, leaning on the bar counter. "Could have used you back in New Vegas."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Dean answered smoothly. Benny prodded at him again in his "Ring-a-Ding-Ding" fashion, and Dean sighed before answering. "The Sierra Madre."

"Woah, let's keep it in the grove. You," He paused for emphasis. "Are the ghoulified version of prewar icon Dean Domino and you've been hiding out in the casino in the land of the dead?"

"Yes, I suppose if you put it like that."

"I'm the Ben-man, the kingpin of the whole Strip." Benny said, bitterly drinking from his glass. "Or I was."

"Taken down by a courier?" Dean snarked.

"Ain't that a kick in the head. You think you put one in the ground but then they follow you home and try and climb in your bed. Ruin your damn plans. But I'll be back."

"The courier-I never caught their name-banned me from Vegas. They threated to kill me if they ever saw me again. As if they'd get the chance."

"You and me, we're men cut from the same cloth." Benny said, and Dean looked over him.

"Are we really?"

"Yeah, we're both men screwed over by couriers when we could've been kings!" Benny rubbed his hand over his jaw, and then continued. "Y'know...we oughta get together sometime. We could get revenge on the Mojave Express and I have a lot of draw in New Vegas. I could even get you a job preforming in the Tops. Hell, even the Lucky 38."

"Why not?" Dean agreed. Thinking a moment, he asked. "That courier you knew, did they have a large scar on their head?"

"They did actually...a gift from me. Tie, I think that's their name. Well, it's what their boy-toy sniper-type called them when they weren't trying to jump into bed with me."

"Two birds with one stone." Dean said. "Shall we?"

"Yeah, pal."

It took time to get back to New Vegas. This gave them time to plan and plot and scheme about how to get their revenge on the courier.

More or less, it was easy for them to get into the Strip. After all, this was the land that Benny was Chairman of. He was also very skilled with computers, so it wasn't a challenge for Benny to hack into the securitrons.

Their first stop in Vegas was Mick and Ralph's. Throwing a cap to the crier boy outside the story, Benny asked "Are your old men inside?"

The boy responded and Benny strolled into the building like he owned it. Explaining to Dean, he added, "It helps to bring flowers home."

"Benny." Mick greeted shortly.

"Mick, my guy! How's the family?" Benny sidled up to the store owner. "Say, have you gotten any flowers in lately?"

Mick sighed and retreated to the back room. He returned with a wilted bouquet.

"I've only got these in because of Pacer. You know how he's gonna get, you're throwing of his plans with" Mick complained, but Benny cut him off.

"Tell him to send all his complaints to the Tops!" He exclaimed and snatched the bouquet. It was dry and wilty, formed from common Mojave plants rather than one made from Vault-Tec's greenrooms. It must have come in with Crimson Caravans, Benny thought, but Swank would like it well enough.

He shoved a couple caps into Mick's hand-underpaying people was something that got him into trouble before.

"To the Tops!" He called, and Dean followed him.

"Ugh. How things have changed." Dean groaned. "What have you done with the place?"

"Seal it, Dean-o! I've got a man to see. Our plan won't work without Swank."

The man in the check-in window looked up when Benny said his name.

"Shit, Benny. I haven't seen you in ages."

"Missed you too, Swank. You didn't even kiss me goodbye."

"You're not supposed to be here. I know you tried to kill that courier."

"C'mon, Swank. You've gotta let me explain." He gestured with the bouquet. "I brought you flowers."

Swank looked like he was conflicted, but then he sighed.

"Fine. Explain then, boss."

"Alright, so the courier. I did try and kill that courier, but I had good reason for it. You've got to believe me. I needed the platinum chip."

"You can't just keep saying I have to let you explain and I have to believe you. It doesn't work that way. But I'll bite. What's a platinum chip and why did you need it?"

"It's what we need. If we have it, we can upgrade the securitrons and then we won't need the NCR or the Legion or House to protect New Vegas." He smiled bitterly. "It would have been freedom for all of us."

Swank looked at Benny silently.

"I know why I failed now. I needed you and the Chairmen. I needed you."

That seemed to certify it for Swank. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled.

"Alright Benny. But this is the last time. You mess this up and it'll be the end-not just for you and me, but for all of us." He made cautious and firm eye contact with Benny. "What's the plan?"

"You're the man, Swank!" Benny shouted excitedly and leaned over the weapon-check counter to wrap a hand around Swank's shoulder and pull him down for a kiss. Releasing him, he continued. "Oh, it's a doozy of a plan."

Swank looked around and then signalled to another Chairman.

"You take over here." He said, and stepped out from behind the weapon check counter.

The plan was a doozy, Swank thought as he walked from the Tops to the Lucky 38. He hoped the Courier was staying there tonight. If not, he'd have to regroup with Benny and Dean to send them to the Atomic Wrangler instead.

Night had fallen quickly over New Vegas in the hours after Benny had made up with Swank, but his thoughts were quickly interrupted when Swank bumped into someone.

"Watch it," He barked. Looking at the young woman, he realized she was a courier-she had a courier's duster loosely over a purple shirt-but not the one they were going to kill.

"Eh? Did you need something?" She said, "I'm going to Show Low."

It was a dangerous route for a courier because it went right into Legion teritory, but Swank didn't care. It seemed like a good idea at the time, a solution to his problems. But it wasn't.

"Sorry. Good luck!" He said and continued on route to the Lucky 38.

"You too?" Swank heard, but there was a lot of noise. The Strip was loud.

Arriving at the Lucky 38, he let himself in. The collar weighed heavily in his pocket, but he knew that was just in his head. It couldn't weigh more than a pound or two.

"Hello?" he called. "I need to speak to the Courier? It's really important..."

There wasn't any response for a moment. Then the elevator chimed and two people exited.

One was the Courier, and the other was a bitter-faced sniper with an NCR beret.

"Oh...Mr. Tops?" The courier said. "Did you need something? We were just on our way out..."

"Yes, and it's very important. And it can't wait." Swank replied

The little computer on the Courier's arm beeped.

"Alright, what's going on?"

"Sit down, this is very important news." The courier sat down. The sniper stood to the side.

His hands were starting to sweat and he wiped them on his suitpants. Ugh, he could almost hear Benny scolding him for dirtying it.

"I've discovered..." He spoke softly...and the courier leaned into hear better. Just as they planned. "Sorry."

With that, he swiftly reached into his coat pocket and snapped the collar around the courier's neck. It latched closed and armed before they could even move.

They startled back, but it was of no use.

"Recognize it, courier?" a charismatic and smooth voice called as Dean Domino and Benny Gecko strolled into the lobby of the Lucky 38.

The Courier's face was fearful, but the sniper's eyes were full of rage. Their hands clawed at their throat, but it was futile against the explosive collar.

"I wouldn't do that, Pussycat." Benny's voice chimed in. "It's rigged to blow. But I'm sure you knew that. According to my new friend here, you've had some experience with them."

"Dean." They said quietly. " You were warned. I told you what I'd do if I ever saw you again. I'll kill you even if I have to take you down with me."

"Geez, Domino, what'd you do to make 'em hate you so bad?" Benny ran a hand through his hair. "I shot them in the head-twice, even-and left them for dead. And they still tried to sleep with me! Oh, and I wouldn't go making any moves there, friend, unless you'd like your little courier blown to bits. Or do, it would make it easier on me."

"I believe it was that I had their little friend's vocal cords ripped out. Or maybe it was the whole threatening to blow them up." Dean answered. "I never narrowed it down."

"Wow, Benny!" the Pip-Boy beeped. "I never thought I'd see you again! You keep some interesting friends!"

"Yes-Man?" Benny questioned, and then waved it aside. "Eh, never mind. When I've got the platinum chip, I can fix whatever they did to you."

"Yes-Man," Antietam said, dropping their hands from their neck "Could you keep it down? I'm about to get blown up."

"No, you're not." Boone reassured them quietly. "Gotta be some way to take these guys out..."

Internally, Antietam was weighing whether it was worth it to charge Dean and take him down with them. But there was a likelihood of Boone being injured in the blast, so it wasn't going to work out.

"Now, now Courier..." Dean said. "Where did you take the treasure when you ran off? You ruined over two hundred years worth of revenge."

The courier wanted to lash out, but they reigned their temper in.

"You ruined it...You ruined the whole Sierra Madre, did you know that? It could have been a safe haven, a shelter from the nuclear anihilation. But you couldn't tolerate what you percieved as an insult to your ego! And you ruined Vera's life-she was dying and you blackmailed her!" Their vitreolic rant paused. It wasn't the whole sad story, but the only one who knew that was Antietam. And they were too angry and biased against Dean to really care that their rant was biased. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Woah, let's calm down, Pussycat. You keep yourself under control or one of us might just forget ourselves and hit that button. We wouldn't want that, now would we? Let's get down to business." Christine and Veronica ran downstairs.

"Hey, what's going on? We heard commotion." Veronica said, and then when she saw the situation, she put her hands on her hips. "Are you guys having a party without me?"

Christine, on the other hand, growled.

"Dean." It came out in Vera's voice, and if Dean had skin, it would have gone pale with fear. As it was, it broke his composure.

"So it worked." He said finally.

"Alright, don't make any moves!" Benny shouted. "You try anything and I'll blow your friend to smithereens."

"Who are these guys?" Veronica asked.

"Some guys who tried to kill Tie before, I think." Boone answered

"Dean Domino, Swank Gecko-Pierce, and I'm the pro from Dover." Benny barked. "Now I want answers! Where's the platinum chip?"

None of them answered.

"I guess none of you value the Courier's life, seeing as none of you are providing answers." He pulled Maria from his pocket. "No matter. We'll start with the boy toy."

With that, he leveled Maria at Boone.

"Things are getting a little heated, Benny." Swank said, making eye contact with the checker-suited man.

"Stop." The Courier said. "I'll tell you where I hid the chip. Just let my friends go."

"Benny, this is getting more heated than I thought it would." Swank noted.

"Can it, Swank. We're about to get some answers!" Benny responded.

"It's in the dresser in the motel in Novac. Let my friends go, Benny."

"It's like it doesn't even matter to you!" Benny exclaimed. "It-" Swank cut him off by setting a hand on Benny's outstretched arm.

"Benny, calm down. We don't have time for his right now."

"Yeah, Benny, calm down." Dean chimed in, although it was clearly mocking him, which Benny picked up on immediately.

"You got something to add, Deano?" Benny snarked back.

"You know, Ben-man, I think I'm tired of playing accomplice. I'm so tired of playing second fiddle...I think I'll kill you and your friends and claim New Vegas for my own."

"Yeah, that's not happening." Benny fired back. He pointed Maria at Dean. "It's been real and it's been great, but it's not real great."

He fired.

"Shit, Benny, you missed." Swank said, to which Benny responded "Shut up, I know I missed."

He shot again and again and Dean didn't move, until he slumped to the ground, full of lead.

"Well, that's a bust." Benny said. "Hey, whataya say, Courier? We can burry the hatchet with this guy and work together. I won't kill you or your little friends and you won't kill me and Swank. Fair's fair, right?"

It was a stretch-even now, Christine and Veronica's nimble fingers were removing the explosive collar from the angry courier's throat. But Benny had always been a gambling man.

#benny new vegas #benny gecko #benny fnv #swank fnv #fallout new vegas #fnv #craig boone #courier antietam #courier 6 #courier six #dean domino #veronica santangelo #christine royce #if you find all the references to mash dm me and I'll draw/write you something as a prize!#i really wanted Benny's plan to work out-he has Swank with him now -so it should work right?#benny's big score #Benny x Swank

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fallout4reactsblog · 4 years ago

Note

My favorite part about the Sole being a Synth and everyone hates them story is when they blow up the Institute, everyone's irrational fear that they're reporting back to them is now unfounded. The person they hate saved the Commonwealth, despite everyone thinking their an Institute spy, and I bet there will be a lot of groveling for their forgiveness.

C.I.T. becoming a smoking crater rippled through the Commonwealth like sole had thrown a boulder into an otherwise peaceful lake. Everybody knew within the day, and while they were happy to see the Institute go, there were some that suddenly had to come to grips with their mistakes.

News travels fast, and Piper got to them first.

Sole caught Preston just as he was coming over the Sanctuary bridge, and he smiled. “General. Got a delivery for you from Diamond City.”

“Diamond City? What do they want?”

“More an individual than the collective,” he said, handing over a copy of Publick Occurences. “Seems someone’s trying to make amends.”

Their eyes narrowed While they’d made their peace with what Piper did, they were long past justifying it. As Nick had pointed out, they’d have been beyond pissed if the same had happened to him, so to let it go just because they were the victim was wrong. They hadn’t been back to Diamond City in a long time, and they definitely hadn’t held a copy of the Publick.

The headline read, “The Synth Survivor: Hero of the Commonwealth!”

They looked at Nick, who was frowning beside them. “Is she kidding with this headline?”

“As I recall, that was the headline the day she saw you thrown out,” he grumbled. “Might be best not to read it.”

Preston shook his head. “I’ve read it myself. I wouldn’t have given it to you if it was mean-spirited.”

They hesitantly unfolded it to begin reading the story. Preston wasn’t lying; the article sung their praises from here to the Mojave. It was enough to make sole cringe a little. Piper’s desperation was palpable. She was begging forgiveness.

“As I’m sure we all remember,” sole read aloud, “this author has had some unfortunate dealings with our hero in the past. This author would like to state publicly that she regrets her actions and words both spoken and written. Let this article be not only a testament to the bravery of the sole survivor, but a written plea to the mayor of Diamond City and cities everywher: open the gates to the hero of the Commonwealth. Synth or no, they are more human than any of us could ever hope to be.”

Nick frowned. “Seems she’s had quite the change of heart.”

“She wants to make up for what she did,” Preston said.

“And you think I should let her?”

He shrugged. “That’s your choice, General. At the least, I think you should listen to what she has to say, but what she did to you was cruel and unjustifiable. In the end, that’s your call.”

They folded the paper up and glanced toward Nick. “You haven’t visited Ellie in awhile. Think she’d like to see us?”

“Undoubtedly. The question is if you want to try to see her.”

They sighed. “Let’s hear what Diamond City has to say for itself.”

Hancock was no less subtle.

They heard voices from their place at the workbench. From Preston’s tone, they could tell he wasn’t happy. His voice lacked its usual friendliness, and though his words weren’t discernible, they sounded sharp. They put their screwdriver down to go investigate.

The voices solidified as they approached the Sanctuary Bridge.

“I’m afraid you’re not welcome here,” Preston said. “I’ll need to you leave.”

“I’m not trying to come in. I just want to talk to sole.”

Hancock’s voice was still familiar after so much time apart. They ground their teeth and approached.

“What are you doing here, John?”

He looked surprised to see them. “Sole! I- well, I heard about what you did. Thought I’d stop by, offer you Goodneighbor’s thanks in person, you know?”

They hummed, unconvinced. “Is that all?”

To his credit, he looked appropriately sheepish. “No, of course not. I came to apologize. I ain’t expecting forgiveness or anything like that, but I thought you deserved to hear me say I was sorry and admit I was wrong. You weren’t lying when you said you weren’t on the Institute’s side. I should’ve trusted you.”

“You should’ve,” they agreed.

“Of course, you’re welcome back anytime.”

“And Nick?”

Hancock nodded, rubbing his cheek. “Him, too. He was right to try to knock some sense into me. I was an idiot.”

“You were. I trusted you, Hancock, the least you could’ve done is trust me back.”

“I know. And I’ve paid for it.”

“That remains to be seen.” They turned, heart racing. “Thanks for coming. I’ll certainly think about what you said.”

“That’s all I can ask for.”

Later, Nick asked, “Do you forgive him?”

They stayed quiet. Better not to answer than admit to not knowing. Hancock’s visit had drudged up all the old wounds that were just starting to heal. Even now, they could feel the sting of his betrayal.

“You don’t have to,” Nick said, reaching over to take their hand. “I sure as hell don’t know if I do.”

“I don’t know if I can,” they replied. “A lot of people hurt me, Nick. They said and did some terrible things when I was at my lowest. It hurts to be kicked when you’re already down.”

He nodded. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to, kid. You don’t owe them anything, and you don’t have to be guilted into accepting them back into your life. Sometimes you have to cut your losses.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” It still hurt too badly, and they still didn’t know how they should feel.

“Alright,” Nick said, and mercifully turned the conversation to other things.

#hoooo boy let's go #apologies from everyone!#hopefully an appropriate amount of groveling #will sole forgive them?#idk but i doubt nick will #fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fo4 companions #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 companions react #piper wright #hancock #preston garvey #nick valentine #synth!sole

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mammonsvulva · 4 years ago

Note

Hi there! I just discovered your page and i loved the bachata headcannon!

On that same line, can you do a female latina headcannon? Like, more specifically, Colombian, you know, an MC that's like normally fluent in english but when mad she just burst on angry spanish screaming session with latin curses and a strong accent and also just getting really mad if deemed as Mexican by default? I'd love that! Thank youuuu (also feel free to ignored this if it's not of your fancy)

I hope you have a great day!

Of course! I really hope you like it! :)

(I tried to incorporate things some of my relatives say as Colombians please don’t hate me🥲)

The Brothers + Datables and a Latina MC with Colombian Habits

Lucifer❤️

Lucifer has always been amused by the boldness MC portrayed, that is until Mammon pissed her off

MC actually f*cking explodes, calling Mammon “culicagao” (like a bratty kid) and a bunch of profanities out of rage

Actually leaves Lucifer surprised, who could she hate so much that she’d put a curse on them?

Is actually kind of scared to speak up after she went silent, kinda just stares at her like “what the fuck do I do”

“I’ve told Mammon A THOUSAND TIMES. IM NOT F*CKING MEXICAN”

(Oooohh Mammons gonna get his ASS WHOOPED)

“MAAAAAAMMMMOOOOONNN????”

Mammon💛

Could learn a thing or two from MC, had some strong clap backs

Is counting his money when OUT OF NOWHERE MC just starts incanting a literal curse

Literally has his quaking in his boots dude, like he’s genuinely terrified

He can’t keep up with anything she’s saying and feels like his time to die has come

Doesn’t say A WORD when she calms down, jumps when she starts apologizing for reacting like that

“W-w-what happened? ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )”

“I LOST 10 GRAND IN BLACK JACK! ITS FUCKING RIGGED!”

Is genuinely more cautious for a while, kind of traumatized him

Mammon thought it’d be a great Idea to take her to meet one of his witches, MC already didn’t like her but listen to this

First thing the witch said was “Aren’t you that Mexican transfer student or whatever?”

(‘Oooh Ms. Girl you fucked up’)

Leviathan💙

Wishes he could have MCs confidence, ‘how does she respond like that 0•0’

He’s reading Manga while MC just lost on the same level for the 5th time

Accidentally shifts to his demon for he got so scared

Has to whip his tail up and grab the controller before she could slam it, genuinely terrified for his well being

Once she calms down she goes to give him a hug, to help with her frustration

*PANICS* “I-I can h-help you with that level, if y-you want..”

MC watches as he beats it with ease and heaves a sigh of relief, literally such a stupid game

Gets just as offended as MC when somebody said “I went to Mexico on vacation once, what was it like growing up there?”

Will let her handle it and he’ll be her Moral Support <3

Satan💚

Loved that MC was always ready, he was like that too being the Avatar of Wrath

Is genuinely amused when MC burst out swearing because she got a bad grade, he actually thought it was hilarious

Thinks of like a game to keep up with everything she’s shouting, makes her more upset

“What the fuck are you laughing at juemadre de la-“

“You’re Hot when you’re mad, Did you know that?”

Makes her go silent immediately, why is he like this, making people wanna act up on DIAVOLO

When they’re BOTH mad at something it’s like a f*cking BOMB RAID bro

They both just keep adding more, even when Satans speaking a Demon Dialect and MC is speaking Spanish LMAOO

When an arrogant soul decides to purposely mislabel MC as Mexican, the fool needs to count his seconds with MC and Satan both getting on his ass

Asmodeus💞

Has always liked the spunk MC had, it entertained him to watch her bicker with his brothers

Surprised, but not happy AT ALL with the fact that MC could blow up like that

Gets on MC for lashing out, “MC! THIS IS TERRIBLE FOR YOUR SKIN, DO YOU WANT WRINKLES?”

Gets MC to tell him what made her loose her cool like that

“That stupid b*tch from class posted saying “That Mexican transfer student isn’t pretty enough to be this annoying”

Almost explodes as bad as MC did

“MS. GIRL SHE SAID WHAT? Lemme hop on Devilgram and end her career real quick💖”

Devilgram post- Asmodeus 19:34: “Aw sweetie, Not everybody can be as gorgeous as MC and muah, but don’t go trying to drag her in the dirt with you. Filthy🥱”

No mercy on the haters💔

Beelzebub🧡

Like Asmo, found it entertaining to see MC bicker with his brothers every now and then

MC just couldn’t keep calm anymore when she messed up the recipe she was working on AGAIN

Beel becomes more concerned than scared, ‘Is she ok? :(‘

Gets up to hug MC, hoping it’ll help calm her down a bit

She explains that she kept ruining the dessert no matter how hard she tried

“MC, it’s ok to do it wrong, because it helps you learn how to do it right :)”

She’s tried again, except this time with Beel to help her :)

Gets upset when someone defaults MC as Mexican, knowing how much she hates it

He may be a teddy bear but man don’t f*ck with his Chef

Belphegor💜

Thought MC was amusing with the way she made sure everyone knew she wouldn’t take any BS

MC just happened to stub her toe while Belphie was sleeping, and now he’s awake, and heated

“What the f*ck happened?”

Is actually more concerned than upset, she wouldn’t lash out like that for no reason

When MC explains that a picture of her in the RAD Catalog still ended up being there even though she made it clear she was against it

“Oh, MC- you look good in every photo, I wouldn’t be upset about it”

Assures her it’s not a big deal and then invites her to come take a nap with him

Will mean mug the f*ck out of anyone who assumes MC is Mexican, because he finds extremely disrespectful (as it is)

Might commit homicide if they keep saying Mexican but I ain’t no snitch

Diavolo♥️

At first took MC as disrespectful, but learned it was only when she felt she was being disrespected (then by all means, go off)

Surprisingly, Diavolo speaks Spanish, but he still kind of struggles to keep up

He’s just laughing the whole time too, like MC isn’t furious

Later, MC calmly explains just some random student pissed her off again

“Who is this student you say? Do I need to have a chat with them as the Demon Lord of The Devildom? :)?”

Dia actually admires how passionate MC is about her home country, agrees that it’s disrespectful to mislabel someone

Because he can, Dia starts to learn about Colombian culture and throwing parties just for MC

Starts saying shit like “politas pa la rumba!” (I’ll buy beers for everyone¿) just to sound cool to MC

Barbatos💟

Barb doesn’t understand how someone could be so beautiful but so hostile sometimes, overall doesn’t really mind though

Is surprised that such things could conde from MC, kind of chuckles thinking about it

He figured he should try and step in to calm the situation

“Is there anything I can do to ease you, MC?”

It ended up being that Diavolo was completely ignoring her and brushing her aside when he never did that with Solomon

Asks if she’d like him to talk to Dia about it, since he may approach it better than she will

Barb will quietly correct anybody who believes her to be Mexican, just so MC won’t have to deal with their arrogance herself

Takes his free time and makes dishes from Colombia, or Colombian themed cookies or cupcakes to make MC happy :)

Simeon🤍

Is trying to teach MC better ways to respond to idiots, more Angelic ways

When MC blows up for the first time in front of him, the literal shock she sent him into omfg

*GASP* “MC?! WHY ARE YOU SAYING SUCH VILE THINGS?”

Like, HELLOOO? SHE DARES TO SAY SUCH THINGS IN AN ANGELS PRESENCE?

Helps to calm her down after showing distaste for her words

“You’re lips are to beautiful to speak such sinful things”

Will go on to give MC a long but kind lecture about why exploding like that is bad for her Aura and whatever

Will politely make it known that someone was wrong for assuming MC is Mexican, does get a bit irritated though

He now goes up to MC when she’s getting upset, to remind her to breathe and comfort her with a deep hug :)

“See? It’s ok MC~ just breathe in and out for me, ok? :)”

Solomon⚛️

Will piss MC off on purpose just to see her pop off, he LOVES it

Literally her #1 cheerleader when she blows up, adding on to what she’s upset about

“Period MC” “No way she said that! What a fugly b*tch” “Right, she’s just a hater”

Hypes her up all the time, even when she’s obviously in the wrong

Sol needs ALL the tea, pulls up like “who we talking shit about?”

Will get on someone’s ass just because, now think about when someone mislabels MC😳💥

Gives MC a sense of pride hearing him say “Cagué” when he messes up a potion, he obviously picked that up from her

Luke⛅️

Gets kinda (really) scared when MC becomes a little aggressive

Actually bursts out crying because he was scared MC was mas at him

MC traumatized this kid so bad, he ran to Simeon like he was getting chased be some demons

“M-m-mom is really m-mad and *sobs* I’m s-scared *sobs more*”

MC IMMEDIATELY feels super bad because she scared away his soul

Simeon, having talked to her about it already, mouthed “Apologize now.” In a very not polite manner, kinda scaring MC too🚫🧢

Has MC apologizing PROFUSELY, trying to explain it wasn’t Luke’s fault

Once he calms down, they go to bake cookies like usual, except this time he’s sniffing the whole time :( 💔

I really hope this fit what you asked for :( </3

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years ago

Text

Insanity

Prompt: Hi... I uh... I’m back, again anonymously.... to see if maybe... you could... write a thing? No pressure but if so... maybe a hurt/comfort?

Remus is used to dealing with feeling like he is loosing his mind on his own. Like he puts up an insane front so that the others don’t notice when he is loosing his grip on his sanity. Then he ends up laughing as he is falling apart and thinking that he has indeed found the real meaning of going insane. And he just laughs until it hurts and the laughing fades but the tears don’t stop. He’s thinking of doing something drastic like just running away to the subconscious so he doesn’t have to exist as a side anymore, but on his was he runs into Janus and Virgil or other people if ya want. Then they talk him down out of his insanity and realize remus needs a lot more help than they ever imagined.

I know this is a really long prompt and if you don’t wanna write it no pressure whatsoever. I just like your writing better than mine lol. Uh, thanks if you do and thanks for having boundaries if you don’t! <3

Thanks for the prompt!

Read on Ao3 Part 2 (ish)

Warnings: as you can guess, this revolves not just around Remus, but on intrusive thoughts. Self-harm, suicidal ideation, psychosis, insanity. There is a happy ending where our boi gets comforted and grounded, but the way to getting there ain’t pretty. Take care of yourselves please

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic, you decide

Word Count: 3864

Sometimes the world just fucking sucks.

Sometimes the world just really fucking hates him.

Sometimes the world just fucking sucks.

Remus doesn’t know why his brain decides that right fucking now is the perfect time to swan dive off a balcony into a wrought-iron fence, he just knows that the wind on his face cuts his cheek like ice because of how cold it is.

He doesn’t understand the compulsion to stride to the middle of a volcano and dive into the magma just to see how the lava flows on the inside, he just knows that the burn in his hands from being even this close to a volcano is only matched by the burn in his head to just fucking go.

He really doesn’t know how he ends up wanting to rip his brother apart, piece by piece, so he can see how every inch of his muscles work, he only knows that hat he’s got his arms tightly around Roman, it’s the most grounded he’s felt in fucking ages.

Sometimes the world just really fucking hates him.

The light switch would look perfect controlling the precise contractions of his organs. The bird that flies by outside the window tears his trachea out with its razor-sharp beak. The water bottle Patton uses would screw into his eye sockets until his corneas shattered.

Remus knows to laugh them off. They can’t hurt him, they’re his! His ideas! They’re supposed to be disgusting, revolting, it’s a good sign if it’s him they revolt too. After all, he’s sure as hell got higher standards.

On the other hand…is this what it fucking feels like?

The idea of using a knife sometimes makes it feels like ants are crawling through his bone marrow. The steel glints way too harshly in the light as he picks it up and suddenly all he can see is blood, blood, and more blood, cuts in his arms, throbbing muscle, it hurts, why doesn’t it hurt that bad, make it stop, make it go away —

Remus takes a deep breath and puts the knife down.

He’ll walk past a window on a bad day and all he can feel is glass, sharp glass, in his skin, in his eyes, in his tongue, broken glass, inside him, cutting little nicks and tears and it hurts, it won’t stop hurting, why can’t he taste the blood, what’s happening to him—

He draws the curtains and walks away without another word.

The Sides are all there in the living room and his hands itch for his morning star, for a sledgehammer, something, anything to break them apart, put them back together, stitch them up in horribly beautiful ways, listen to their screams as their vocal chords break, why can’t he hear them screaming, why are their screams so loud—

He smiles feebly and sinks out.

Remus curls up in his bed and howls, the room collapsing in on itself, pressing against his lungs. He keeps screaming and screaming and screaming until he’s laughing. He laughs. He keeps laughing until his voice dies in his throat. He keeps laughing.

Something has its wriggly little talons in his stomach and he can’t stop laughing. It hurts. He can’t breathe. He wants it to stop. He never wants to know what it’s like to laugh again. He never wants to stop laughing.

He wants it to stop.

He knows exactly what this fucking feels like.

He can’t open his eyes sometimes because he can’t look at what he knows will appear in front of him. He can’t close his eyes sometimes because he’s too terrified of what will be carved into the underside of his lids. He can’t speak because he knows what horrifying thing will tumble out of his mouth. He can’t stay quiet because he knows what happens when all the voices stay trapped in his head.

He can’t be because it hurts too much.

He can’t not be because then it will stop hurting.

The others don’t know about this. Of course they fucking don’t. They don’t listen to him when he fucking wants to talk to them about shit, why the fuck would they pay attention to the stuff he doesn’t want to tell them?

Patton doesn’t give a single flying fuck about him. He made that perfectly fucking clear.

Logan thinks he’s boring. That’s the most fucking offensive thing Remus has ever heard, and that’s fucking saying something.

Virgil’s a scaredy-cat. And he’s gotten boring to terrify. Virgil’s afraid of fucking everything.

Janus is so nuanced, it’s fucking annoying.

Roman’s his brother.

Remus growls and rocks himself faster, clutching the sides of his shirt until the fabric tears. He squeezes his eyes shut and ignores the pain in his ribs. The voices howl and cackle as the winds swirl around him. He ignores them as best he can.

It’s fucking cold in here and it’s too fucking hot.

They don’t see this part of the fucking mess that is Remus’s existence. They don’t see the un-fun parts of the crazy. They don’t see the reality of what Remus has to deal with.

They see the sex jokes, the crude puns, the horrible images he plants in their funny little heads. What must it be like in there, it must be so boring.

They don’t see the way he has to hold himself back from jumping onto every sharp object, throwing himself from every high height, digging his teeth into his own flesh and stripping it away from the bone.

Remus growls as he shoves the pillow between his teeth. The cotton tastes awful but it keeps his teeth away from his own tongue. He’d tried that once, tried biting it off, maybe the horrible taste of battery acid would leave his mouth if he had no tastebuds. He just wound up on the floor of the bathroom, vomiting up chunk after chunk until his tongue grew back, twitching against the roof of his mouth. He started biting the pillows after that.

It’s so fucking stupid, that they can’t fucking see this shit. He knows he can’t let them, he’s got fucking wires crawling around beneath his skin. He’s convinced of it. He can’t listen to Patton being condescending, he can’t listen to Logan flatly telling him he’s off his fucking rocker, he can’t listen to Virgil flip out at him, he can’t listen to Janus’s snide disapproval.

He can’t fuck up his brother.

So he just laughs.

Long and loud and hard and obnoxious because if they’re listening to the laughter they’re not listening to him.

There’s always going to be something they fucking want to pick on with him; they’re so fucking boring they can’t tolerate a little bit of difference. But if they start poking at his scars with their razor-long nails he’s going to rip open his skin and let the swarm of wasps inside him devour them whole. So he just laughs and laughs and lets them stare at him in disgust.

Disgust is better.

Sometimes his laughter is fucking hysterical, rising and rising and rising until they’re all screaming at him at the top of their lungs just to be heard. They say that he’s scaring them. Good. They should fucking be scared.

Sometimes his laughter is just in his head. They say they can’t hear him but he’s laughing. He’s laughing and they can’t hear him. Could they ever?

Sometimes he doesn’t realize it’s him. Someone will be laughing and they’ll all be glaring at him and oh, yeah, that’s him.

Sometimes he just can’t shut the fuck up.

Maybe it would be easier if he fucking could.

If he could shut his brain the fuck up for two goddamn seconds maybe he could actually make this work. Maybe he could be palatable enough to be tolerated. What does being tolerated feel like? What does it look like? Is it red, like blood, does it run in rivulets down his arms?

Is it dry, like the pillows? Does it just sit there in the corner, begging to be torn apart by razor-sharp teeth, or does it actively try to suffocate him as he wraps his mouth around words that won’t ever fit?

Or is it empty, hollow, like the blood vessels in his heart? Does it make him ache when a strong breeze blows by? Does it taste like steel, ozone, does it burn his tongue as he tries to breathe?

What does tolerance feel like, Remus wonders, because he’s all too familiar with isolation.

He’s never really alone. The voices won’t leave him be. They scream and cackle and whisper and taunt him with their awful, awful words and ideas and images and sensations. But he’s alone in every way that matters.

Except for the monsters.

He and Roman haven’t told the others about the Subconscious. It’s the one thing they’ve both consistently agreed on. The others don’t get to know about the Subconscious.

It’s not a nice place. It’s not even really a place. It’s a void, deep and vast, populated by things darker than darkness. The things in there are terrifying enough to make Remus’s skin crawl. They drag things down into the depths and rip them from the inside out, shredding tissues as they’re flipped inside out.

Monsters live in there.

Beasts. Creatures. Things.

They whisper to Remus sometimes. Their tongues are soaked in fear. Not Virgil’s type of fear, a thicker type of fear. It oozes out of their gaping maws and coats Remus’s limbs until he’s stuck, drowning in a tar pit. Insanity.

Sometimes he can struggle out of it.

Not this time.

The monster purrs in satisfaction as its shadows whip about the walls, crawling up to the ceiling, tapping their long, bony fingers against the very edges of the eye. His ribcage creaks, rent asunder by the sudden invisible weight. Dark passages yawn at the foot of his bed, around the fuzzy edges of the candle’s glow. Is there a candle in here? He’s not allowed a candle. Why is there a candle in here?

The shadows creep closer, up the long winding staircase—staircase? Where is he? Is he moving? Are they moving him?—through the banister, dancing up the curtain strings. There is insanity here, delectable, soaking through the walls, coloring the soft breaths that sigh in the still interior. The shadows creep closer, luxuriating in the darkness, the unseen. Remus stands at the brink of madness, teetering, awake, dripping head to toe in insanity.

A single candle burns atop the nightstand. He’s not allowed a candle. Its light flickers. His head pokes out above the sheets, fingers curled around its edge. He didn’t tuck himself in. He isn’t in bed. Yes, he is. The bed is standing up behind him. Now it’s lying down. He doesn’t know what’s real anymore.

He dares not move, lest the shadows hear him and find him, and yet he dares not close his eyes. A chill reaches a long finger through the window pane and lightly strokes the space between his shoulder blades. He keens.

The fingers lift his hairs to stand aloft, tugging them as if they are puppeteering his arms. They aren’t his arms. They never were. The chill cackles, diving to squeeze his legs, massaging its frigidity into his thighs. A knuckle comes up to trail along the soft skin under his arms, laughing as he curls up tight, trying to block the probing touches from snatching the rest of his warmth. He’s too warm. He’s too cold. The air atop him merely flutters, letting the chill dig and prod and one at him with its relentless talons. The insanity merely rumbles, soaking him to the bone. Is that what it wants? To steal his bones?

As the insanity drips through the air, it fills his ears, sending the shadows along the walls, up the ceiling, down beneath the skin. The light flickers. The insanity pours into his eyes. The chill rubs it in, still reaching wiggling fingers toward the soft meat of his tummy, blowing the insanity into ripples across his pupils. It reaches two fingers into his mouth, sliding across his tongue. As he gasps, it wriggles back under his arms and cackles anew. The insanity simply hums, sliding across his skin, down to pool in the hollow of his arms, nestled against his chest. Crueler hands dig into the meat at the back of his knees, the undersides of his rear, delighting in how he shivers. He whimpers. A knuckle runs over the very edge of him and lingers, coaxing the insanity to its wiggling lure.

The pit yawns beneath him, the monster voice luring him in, closer, deeper, come, down…

He does the only thing he can do.

He laughs.

Loudly. Heartily. He laughs so hard it bends him in half, cracking his spine. The sound scrapes along his throat. It rips spittle out of him, flying off into the darkness. He laughs. He laughs. He can’t stop laughing.

Spittle is joined by tears.

He can’t stop.

It won’t stop.

They won’t stop.

Nothing ever stops.

“Remus? Remus!”

“Jesus Christ, Remus, what’s going on?”

“Come away from there, sweetie, you’re going to fall.”

“Remus, come on, come here, listen to us, come on, you’re—you’re gonna fall.”

Hands wrap around his arms and yank, sending him hurtling back from the edge. He falls into something soft.

“Hey, hey,” comes the quiet growl, “hey, dude, it’s okay. Shh, shh, breathe, Remus, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

Too late.

“You gotta breathe, man. It’s gonna be worse if you don’t.”

I can’t, Remus thinks frantically, I can’t breathe.

He’s still laughing. There are still tears running down his face.

“In and out, Remus, you can do it…”

Virgil? Is that Virgil? Isn’t Virgil scared of him? Why is Virgil here?

“There you go, Remus, it’s okay…” Virgil’s rubbing his arms. Arm? How many does he have? “It’s okay.”

Something hits his chest like a thunderclap and he gasps.

“That’s it, that’s it…it’s okay, Remus, it’s gonna be okay.” Something’s strangling him. No—no, trapping him. Also no. What’s happening? “You’re alright now, Remus.”

“V—Virgil?”

“Yeah, Remus, it’s me. J’s here too, it’s gonna be okay. We got you.”

Remus cranes his head backward to look up at what’s holding him. Janus smiles down at him, concern written plainly all over his face.

“Hey, sweetie,” he says softly, stroking Remus’s damp cheek, “you gave us quite the scare there.”

“S-scare?”

“You looked like you were hurting,” he says, not unkindly, “and that you were scared.”

Something twists in his gut.

“What would you know about being scared?”

To their credit, neither of them fucking blinks.

“I know that I care about you,” Janus murmurs, still cupping Remus’s face, “and that the thought of you falling into that pit scared me.”

“I care about you too,” Virgil says, “and you were hurting.”

“Everything hurts,” Remus hisses, yanking at Janus to get him to let go, “there are ants crawling around inside of me and monsters force-feeding me insanity.”

Virgil shoots Janus a worried look. Janus reaches behind them to fetch a tissue box, silently cleaning Remus’s face.

“It won’t stop,” he mutters, “it never stops.”

“What never stops, sweetie?”

“Everything.”

Janus glances up. Then back down.

“The others are worried,” he says softly, “they want to come see you. Should we let them?”

He can’t hold back the scoff. “Why would they care?”

“Because they care about you, sweetie, you’re important.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Of fucking course you are,” Virgil says immediately, “don’t say that.”

“You’ve got a fucking funny way of showing it,” Remus hisses, “you don’t want me around.”

“That’s not true!”

“Patton.”

“No, Logan! He doesn’t believe we care about him, let me go—“

“Patton?” Remus turns his head.

Patton…Patton is also crying?

The other Side drops to his knees in front of Remus, reaching out to catch another set of Remus’s tears in his palms. His lip wobbles, curling around Remus protectively.

“Of course we care about you, kiddo,” he manages, “you’re so wonderful.”

“You can’t fucking stand me.”

“I don’t understand you,” Patton corrects, “but I could never hate you. You’re so passionate. I love the way you love things.”

Fucking pause.

“You—you what?”

“I care about you, kiddo.” Patton presses his forehead against Remus’s. “Please don’t leave.”

What the fuck is going on? The monsters pull back, uncertain, but the ants have no such qualms. They burrow deeper into his bones, crawling through his muscles in searing agony.

“Remus,” Logan calls softly, “Remus, can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” he gasps, “yeah, I can hear you.”

“Good.” There’s a gentle hand under his chin. “What’s the matter?”

“There are ants in my bones and monsters trying to drown me in insanity.”

Logan just nods. He fucking nods. “Why do you think there are ants in your bones?"

“I can fucking feel them,” Remus growls, “they chewed through my veins. They’re in me.”

“Where do you think they started,” Logan says softly, “can you show me?”

Remus just lifts his wrists limply. Logan takes one in his hands, frowning in concentration as he runs his fingers gently over the skin.

“There aren’t any marks here,” he pronounces after a moment, “no holes, no bite marks.”

“There…there aren’t?”

“Not here.” Logan holds his hand out, palm up in offering. “Where else?”

He lays his other wrist shakily in Logan’s grip. He looks it over with the same attentive care, pronouncing no bite marks. No ants.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he promises, rubbing his thumb over the back of Remus’s hand, “is there anywhere else you’d like me to check?”

“Behind my ears,” he blurts before he can stop himself, “I—I can hear them.”

Logan nods and stretches his arm forward. “Come here, then.”

Has Logan always been this…soft? The gentle fingers pressing and stroking behind his ear, carding through his hair, have they always been so…kind?

“Would you like me to take a picture,” Logan whispers after a moment, “to show you there’s nothing?”

Remus nods. There’s a quiet click of the camera shutter.

“See?”

“…yeah. Yeah.”

“Anywhere else?”

“My back. My spine. It—it hurts.”

“May I have a look, then?”

Logan checks him over. Every single spot. He doesn’t once roll his eyes or huff that Remus is being ridiculous. He doesn’t scold him for it. He doesn’t pretend that the ants are real and he knows how to get them out. He doesn’t tell Remus that he’s going to be eaten alive from the inside.

He just…checks. Patiently and thoroughly. His hands are warm. His voice is quiet.

“I can have an x-ray ordered,” he says after he checks the last spot, “if you’re still unsure.”

“N-no,” Remus manages, shaking a little, “I—I believe you.”

Logan nods. He reaches out to cup Remus’s chin again. “Are you alright?”

Is he?

Has he ever been?

“N-no.”

“That’s okay.” Logan smiles—fucking smiles—at him and glances up at the others. “Can I show them how to check for you, in case it happens again?”

The question shocks him to his core. He barely has the wherewithal to nod.

Logan’s hands are back on his skin, turning and pointing carefully. He can feel their eyes on him as he works. Janus gently undoes the top of Remus’s collar so they can make sure his neck is clear as well.

“Roman?”

Remus’s heart sinks.

“Roman, do you want to see how to—Roman, what are you doing?”

Remus peers nervously over his shoulder to see Roman standing in front of the pit. From the line of his shoulders, he can see how tense Roman is. His hands are shaking.

“...Roman?”

He turns. His face is deathly pale. His gaze finds Remus and he swallows heavily.

“…Re?”

“Roman?” Remus swallows. Is that what his voice sounds like? “Ro?”

“Were you…” Roman glances over his shoulder. “Did you…?”

Shame.

Shame bubbles up so fast it springs hot, guilty tears behind Remus’s eyes. He ignores the worried noises from the others as he slumps.

A truly wounded noise comes from in front of him as Roman barrels forward, knocking his brother flat on his ass and wrapping his arms so tightly around him that Remus gasps awake.

Warm. Real. Roman. Roman is here, Roman is safe, Roman cares about him, Roman is fucking here. He lets out a cry of his own and clings to his brother.

“Not one of them is gonna touch you,” Roman swears, his voice shaking, “you hear me? I’ll gut them myself. They’ll have to get through me before they can even touch you.”

“I know, Ro—I know—“

“Swear to me,” Roman whispers frantically, “tell me you know I would never have let them take you. Tell me you know I’d’ve torn that place apart just to get you back.”

“I know, Roman, I—I—“

“Don’t ever scare me like that again, Re, I can’t take it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you, you’re staying right here—“ Roman holds him tighter and it’s the good kind of sore—“right fucking here.”

Distantly, he hears Janus chuckle and there’s another warm swirl across his back. He looks up from the crook of Roman’s neck to see Logan settling in, reaching out to give them a hug. Janus sits behind him. Virgil and Patton grab blankets and join the pile.

It’s…it’s good.

“Listen to us,” Roman keeps whispering, “not them. They’re not gonna lay a hand on you. We got you, Remus, we’ll keep you.”

“Gonna keep me?”

“Always, Re.”

“R-Roman—“

“Let it out, Remus, come on. We’re not going anywhere.”

Remus cries.

Sometimes the world just fucking sucks.

But sometimes, as Patton ruffles his hair, as Virgil leans his head on his shoulder, as Janus rubs a hand across his tummy, as Logan starts talking very softly, as Roman holds him tight, sometimes it doesn’t.

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#sanders sides #fic #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #remus sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #dragonbabbles #self harm #tw: self harm #tw self harm

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tashas-life · 4 years ago

Text

Sorry baby, I ain’t your girlfriend

“Hey baby,” Paxton whispered in Devi’s ear.

Devi smiled as she turned to face Paxton, she hadn’t seen him for most of the night since he was messing around with Trent as per usual. Devi didn’t mind getting ditched now that Paxton always invited her to the parties he went to. People usually came to hang out with her now instead of her desperately trying to talk to someone she barely knew. It also didn’t hurt that everyone considered her ‘Paxton’s girl’. She wasn’t his girl but that’s what everyone assumed.

“Hey Pax, having fun?” She asked as she looked behind him for Trent.

“More now that I’m with you.” He said and gave her that smile that she knew meant trouble.

“Yea?” Devi asked giving him an equally mischievous smile.

They had been on the edge of being something more for months but neither of them were making the first move. Devi had decided long ago that she had made enough first moves and Paxton had thought about it many times but always stopped himself. He saw how things had turned out with Ben. Devi was still friends with Ben and they were back to being rivals but there was so much more awkward tension now that they both seemed genuinely hurt when they hurled insults at each other. Mr. Shapiro had even considered switching one of them out of his class when Devi started crying in front of the class. It hadn’t been Devi’s best moment but they both agreed that insults about their previous relationship were off limits.

“Yea, do you want to get out of here?” He asked as he stepped closer into her space.

“And where would we be going?” Devi asked skeptically. There wasn’t really anywhere to go except upstairs. Before Ben she would have gone anywhere Paxton asked her to go, but not so much anymore. Dating Ben had made Paxton way off limits and it gave her the opportunity to actually get to know him. He wasn’t hot, popular Paxton anymore. He was just Paxton. Sometimes she would be reminded of hot Paxton, like when he gets out of the pool or when he wears a too tight t-shirt and gives her that smile that was only for her. But usually, he was just her friend.

Except of course when he comes into a crowded party and sees her standing a little too close to some Sophomore who recently hit puberty. Paxton had to admit Devi looked hot tonight. She was wearing black jeans, a tight tank top and one of his flannels that was left in his car. He may have convinced her the flannel really made the outfit when he picked her up.

“Anywhere you want baby.” Paxton said as he reached into the open flannel, grabbing her waist and pulling her to him. He pushed some hair out of her face and let his fingers slowly drag down her neck resting on her collarbone.

Devi smiled which made Paxton hopeful that he was convincing her. She reached up and took his hand in hers but before he knew what was happening, Devi had shoved him away from her.

“Sorry baby, but I ain’t your girlfriend.” She laughed and turned back to the sophomore. Paxton smiled behind her back, he liked when Devi was confident with him.

Paxton took the hint and went to sit on the couch with a Junior who had tried flirting with him earlier. Paxton only caught Devi looking at him once for the rest of the night. He drove her home as usual and he didn’t say anything when she got out of his car and kept his flannel.

……

Devi had been working really hard to stop saying or doing weird things that would keep her up at night over-analyzing but sometimes her mouth just got too far ahead of her.

Usually Paxton was with Trent waiting outside of her AP biology class, but today it was just Trent. He grabbed Eleanors hand as soon as she stepped out of the classroom and whispered something in her ear that made her beam up at him. Trent has never missed a second to be with her since he got the courage to ask her out. It was odd at first but became more understandable as everyone recognized they were the same brand of weird.

Devi saw Paxton before he saw her which gave her the opportunity to watch him stand close to Stacey, the junior she saw him with at that party a few weekends ago. Devi watched as Paxton slowly dragged his fingers down her neck and stop at her collarbone. Devi was all too familiar with this move that she thought was reserved only for her. Before she could stop herself she was shouting down the hallway.

“Paxton!” It was way too loud for the short distance between them and random people turned to look at her. Eleanor and Fabiola stopped walking and looked at her like she was crazy. Paxton just smiled at her and gave her a head nod but gave no indication that he was going to acknowledge her any further.

Devi should have taken the hint and continued walking to her class but instead she kept talking. “Are you going to walk with us to class?” Devi asked and Paxton’s smile tightened slightly as he dropped his hand from touching Stacey.

“I’ll catch up with you later.” A classic blow-off that should have been the end of the conversation but Devi had to press on.

“I need to talk to you about something.” Devi told him, convinced that he would leave Stacey to talk to her.

“Okay, can it wait?” He asked, dragging out the okay.

Devi nodded and awkwardly followed her friends to their next class. Devi kept thinking about Paxton standing close and touching Stacey. She wondered if Stacey also got a trail of goosebumps where his fingers touched or if she also had to bite her tongue to hold back giggles because it tickled just a little.

But by lunch, Devi had stopped thinking about the incident and was more preoccupied with talking to Fabiola and Eleanor. Paxton came into the student lounge by the time their lunch period was almost over and started talking to Trent. Devi didn’t bother to look up at him.

Paxton brushed his hand along her lower back as he came to sit down next to her. Paxton knew this would tickle her sides and make her sit up straight. Usually, she would laugh and tell him to stop but instead she leaned her face into her hand and looked at what remained of her food. Fabiola and Eleanor continued their conversation with Trent as Paxton leaned in close to Devi to take some of her chips.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Paxton asked licking his fingers.

“It’s not important.” Devi said, being only a little short with him.

“No?” He smirked at Devi, “it seemed important before.”

“Since when are you hanging out with Stacey?” She asked trying to seem casual.

“Since not that long ago.” He said giving her a grin that seemed just a little bit fake.

“Like a few weeks ago or like a few days ago?” Before she could get her answer the first bell rang.

He leaned in close to her and whispered, “sorry baby, but you ain’t my girlfriend.” He gave her a wink and got up to go to his next class.

#daxton #nhie #paxton hall yoshida #devi x paxton #never have i ever #devi vishwakumar #this is my first time writing in like a decade #I’m just desperate for daxton content #I also love seeing Devi make Paxton work for it #paxton x devi #fanfic

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just2bubbly · 3 years ago

Note

Imagine Angsty Kaider about breakup their relationship bc E.C not accept Cinder as empress, i need that.,,,

Masterlist

Well anon firstly 'Thank You!' for sending the ask, I definitely enjoyed writing it- I might have also grown attached to seeing it in my ask box but it's about time I replied to this, I know I took forever but you had popped up the request when I had already written 'Sometimes Love Stays' and I wanted to write in a new light so I too a long time, but here it is without further ado!

Love Hurts, Love Heals!

Ship: Kaider

Words: 3k

Genre: Angst

A/N: Italics present in the further part of story is a flashback.

Cinder's Perspective:

"Kai! What were you thinking?" she barked.

"Your Majesty, are you hurt?" Torin enquired.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me Your- "

"Gosh, Kai stop making shitty excuses!"

"It's nothing really, you both don't have to fuss over me."

"You don't get to tell us that after pulling that stunt!" she exclaimed.

"I did not know those people would backlash like that. Besides, I can't stay hidden in the palace forever!" he reasoned to his furious fiancee.

"Don't you go logistics on me right now. Get cleaned up I will bring the first aid box- Torin keep an eye on him for me!" she ordered.

"Sure You- Cinder." He replied breaking out of his habit to call her 'Your Majesty'.

As she left the room, they both exhaled, Kai, laid on the sofa and seemed to flinch as his arm hit the soft cotton inside.

"Kaito, you really should not have done it," he said preparing himself to give the young reckless and selfless Emperor quite an earful.

"Not you too, Torin!" he groaned.

"Why would you go out knowing that there is a public backlash over the prospect of you marrying Cinder- any person in their right mind would avoid a public event like the one you held- that too without prior notice to your own advisor! Why would you put yourself in a position of danger like that??"

"I can't hide forever just because I'm marrying Cinder, can I now Torin?"

"You can't- but you can choose to wait for things to calm down first. Honestly, I wasn't expecting such an extent of backlash over the prospect of your marriage."

"Same, I thought it would die down in a week or two, it's been going for months now with no signs of peace out and now I'm really doubting of what will really happen at the wedding. I'm afraid things are not going to turn out as I wanted them," he said, rubbing his forehead that was injured and looked red with the young man's dried blood.

"You should wash up Kai- at least before Cinder comes back, she is really worried."

He nodded grimly and asked, "Do- do you think- er, wonder if-"

"If the wedding would have to be called off?" Torin provided.

"Yes... I'm doubtful of what the future holds for us."

"Kai, whatever happens, happens for good and only good will happen with you both. Don't stress yourself over that," he urged.

Kai smiled bitterly and said, "The past doesn't seem to agree with that. "

They both shared a choking silence- one which reflected upon the uncertain and bleak future of the Emperor and his fiancee.

"She is going to be a handful today."

"I know."

"She was scared for you Kai, from what I know of her she will shut herself out rather than hurt you. I'm afraid she might be walking on eggshells right now."

"She is not sleeping well- we both are on the edge for a while now. The worst of her expectations are coming true," he confessed.

The shut of the door was enough indication of Cinder's arrival.

"Why haven't you cleaned yourself yet, Kai? Shoo, now- Torin thank you for looking after him. I hope you have yelled at him for his mistakes."

Torin grinned at her and said, "I will leave you to that, I just merely helped it start."

Looking at the sofa where Kai had been recently sitting she said, "We have avoided it too much- I'm just going to get over it for once and all."

"Don't give him a hard tonight," he requested.

"What are you two conjuring up behind my back?"

"How to kill you before you do it yourself," she criticised, saying that she was cross with him would be an understated lie.

"I will take your leave - don't want to be stuck in between the crossfire. Take care, Kai and Cinder, take it slow!"

"Good night Torin- thank you for today."

"Night Torin and sorry about it."

And as Torin left the room only for the remaining two to confront their problems- that they had been avoiding to talk about as long as possible.

"I'm sorry, Cinder."

"I don't care," she said and walked towards the plush green sofa.

"Come here," she required and Kai followed in her footsteps.

As she drew his hair back with her metal hand to analyse the damage, the cool metal helped ease the dreaded feeling he felt about the issue at hand.

"Where all are you hurt?"

"Besides the injury on the head, I have a small scratch on the elbow and I might have also sprained my leg in the hurry," he told.

She exhaled sharply and asked, "Why did you go?"

"Uh- I had postponed my meet with factory owners for a long time now and well, the common people learned about my arrivals and a mob was present when I reached- I could not control the situation so-"

"Stop underselling yourself- you could not have done anything before an angry crowd. Nothing! However, you should have at least told me or Torin about it. Torin- he has to know- he is your advisor!" she yelled, calmly if that was possible, her voice quiet and slow but a note higher than usual. It was a tone that would scare the listener and make him feel guilty.

"You would have denied me from going- it was necessary! After the announcement of the engagement, things are stagnant among the aristocrats- quite tense for a while."

"Are you blaming it on us now?"

"I never said that!" he retorted.

"You implied it."

"Can we not have this conversation tonight?"

"How long before you agree that we have to talk about the problems our engagement has caused?"

"It has not caused any problems, Cinder-"

"Keep telling yourself that."

"I have reached a point where I neglect my problems until it loses the essence."

"It's not going to work this time- not with us in question."

"Not today, Cinder," he requested.

"C'mon Kai- we need to-"

"Please," he said pleading with his eyes for her to let go of this topic.

"Fine but we are not talking about it first thing tomorrow," she declared.

"Okay."

They turned silent as Cinder looked at his wounds- applying antiseptic that stung slightly but he didn't complain.

"Remove your coat so I can check your arm."

"Uh- Cinder you might have to help me out-I'm unable to fold my elbow due to the stinging sensation."

She helped him out the coat and rolled up the sleeves of his dress to get a clear view of the cut. He hissed when her hand met near his elbow.

"Sorry."

And as she discarded his suit, dropping it on the floor and looked at her fiancee's arm, she gasped, "Kai."

"Ahh..," he cried through gritted teeth. It was a patch of a red and blue bruise along with a pinkish tissue scar and blood dried around it. The injury was by no way minimal.

"We are going to the medical wing now!" she exclaimed and tugged at his non-injured hand.

"Cinder it is 2 in the morning- I don't want to bother anyone."

"There is always someone in the medical wing who is awake to look after the Emperor if the need comes so ever!" He was truly testing her patience- was he always like this?

"I'm not going."

"Why can't you and I agree on something for once?"

"You are being adamant."

"I am but aren't you being reckless?"

"I have to run a nation."

"Exactly what I'm talking about. Running a country requires sacrifices, Kai- I know it."

"I'm not doing it."

"Why can't you just discuss the problem?"

"You promised we would not talk about it today."

"Let's not destroy our future over something as frivolous as love, Kai!"

"Fuck, Cinder but we are not 18 anymore to call it trivial- we are engaged."

"People call off their wedding all the time, Kai. Why make it a big deal?!"

"It's because I want to marry you. I'm the Emperor, I make the laws here and I want to marry the person I love. Ain't that acceptable terms to you or the citizens?" he yelled, loudly in her face.

"Kai aren't you understanding?! Y-you almost fainted because you are marrying me!!"

"It was a stone Cinder, NOT a bullet-"

"Are you waiting for a bullet to call off your wedding then?!"

"Are you so desperate to not marry me?"

"Yes," she said not thinking her words through and soon realizing the mistake she had committed. Hurriedly, she responded, "Kai I didn't mean it I'm-"

"Why say yes if you were so against the notion of marrying me then!" "I- it came out wrong. I just don't know what to do. My heart wants to marry you- my conscience tells me to disappear for the remaining of my life so I won't hurt you anymore."

"You are hurting me anyways, Cinder."

"I'm sorry, Kai," she murmured and sat in silence, her head hung low from embarrassment. The sudden silence followed by a lot of loud pitched yelling felt too harsh.

"I'm so sorry, Kai but-"

"Don't apologize and leave like you don't love me- just wait, hold on for me, for us. Stay with me. Don't leave me, please!" he said his voice wavering in the end. He was trying not to cry- he looked so vulnerable at that moment. Halting her inner turmoil and internal debate of convincing Kai to let her go, she enveloped him in a hug- a tight embrace to comfort him before a final blow. She drew circles on his back, it helped to calm him down while she prepared an argument.

"You have to understand, Kai," she said at last when he had calmed down. He sniffed for a minute before looking straight into her eyes- his chocolate brown eyes daring her to defy him.

"Promise me."

"I won't."

"Marry me."

"Kai, why don't you understand- what's the point of love that hurts more than it heals?"

"Our love is not hurting me."

"Then I am," she said sighing and looking away to the electronic portrait kept of them. Unlike their present, they looked so happy.

"I think we should let go."

"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that."

"Kai," she breathed with a heavy heart and a painful head. At least one of them could cry their heart out. This was being more difficult than she had expected. She held his hand and calmly looked at their intertwined fingers, she looked at the matching bands they were wearing- a gold ring with two diamonds and their respective birthstones in the centre. A carving of wire cutters on the underside. She was going to miss wearing the ring, she was going to miss him.

"Sometimes love doesn't mean two people living under the same roof, it doesn't mean them getting married- I think we are that kind of people. We don't need a ring to prove our love. So let's not bind ourselves to the norms of society. We almost had it, Kai, that's what matters. We have come so far. Thank you for loving me, Kai!"

"I'm not calling off the wedding. No matter what you say, what I have to go through - I'm not going to do it. I know what I signed up for when I asked you to marry me. You know what you agreed to when you said 'yes, we expected this all along- I don't want to run from the first sign of danger."

There was no use convincing him so she left- she might as well catch up sleep before her meeting at 7 in the morning.

The silence stretched between them- there was no distance between but the gap that their love was feeling right now was immense- it divided them like the river divided two adjoining lands, a full stop dividing a sentence, like an axe chopping off the branches of the same trees. They were Kai and Cinder. They were two intertwined lives, separated by the same fate, separated by the same prejudice, the same stigma.

Lunars, Cyborgs and Earthens, just the boundaries created by the human mind. Weren't they all humans, living because of the same oxygen, dying because their hearts stopped, surviving as a society, hating each other as a society. That's what humans are best at- hating each other, never trying to stand united but pretending as they do. Cinder was angry- a burning passion of fury in her heart to the wretched people who had hurt Kai, who were protesting against their marriage, who had been the cause of all her problems for a while.

"Send the witch back-"

"Lunars don't deserve to-"

"She is controlling the Emperor-".

Those were the very words that had been spoken by the crowd of people while Kai was away- that was the tiny part she had heard before Torin had closed his device.

"I'm really sorry Cinder for what you are suffering. I can't believe they are protesting against you after all that you have done-"

"It's okay Torin, it's not like I can wipe out prejudices overnight. Is Kai okay?"

"The guards say that he is slightly injured but other than that he is safe."

"You sure he did not tell you before going?"

"He did not. I'm sure he had a reason but I have no idea for why he left before informing."

Kai did not join her for a long time. There were sounds- tearing the bandages, hissing at various times, clearing the mess left behind, dropping stuff, the noise of flowing water. She felt sorry to give him a hard time while he was suffering but he wasn't understanding the prejudice people had in their minds and hearts for cyborgs, irrespective of if they were marrying the Emperor or not. They did not care whether the Emperor loved them or not. He was destroying his future, his public image for her.

Swiftly she felt the mattress dip when Kai sat on the very corner, hunched on the foot of the bed trying to get a hold of his emotions. No one said anything.

"Cinder," he called.

"Hmm.." she replied.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm tired, Kai."

"Please Cinder- don't go."

"What's the use in waiting Kai?"

"We deserve happiness Cinder, believe me- please!"

"I want it too but-"

"No buts Cinder."

"I don't know, I'm so tired of all the shit we are going through. I want a break, just a minute to breathe."

"You don't have to leave for that."

"I can't do it by staying here as well."

She looked at him, his hair was dishevelled and wet from the recent shower. He had changed into his pyjamas. His body looked fresh but his face showed concern. She cast a glance at his elbow- the bandages were sloppy but they would hold for a night - at least until she took him to see Dr Chang herself.

"I'm afraid Kai- I just don't want to become an example of right people wrong time. We are both being two ahead of our times is what I'm feeling. I'm not sure I can handle this for the rest of my life," she confessed what had been eating her mind for a whole lot of days.

"You love me?"

"Obviously, I do."

"I love you."

"I know."

"That's the only thing that matters."

"It's not Kai- you don't want protests because of our wedding. I don't want headaches because of it. I don't even know what I want right now- a good night sleep, some calm, being a human, you- the list is so long and I have not achieved any of it," she rambled.

"Look at me, Cinder," he said, lifting her chin up to look into her eyes, "- we are going to make it. Even with all the troubles, we are going to be together."

"You don't say things that are not in your hands, Kai."

"I know- but I know you will be my wife, the love of life and my partner for the remaining of my days and no one's going to change it. Trust me on this one."

"I want to."

"Then do it- no one's stopping you, just hold my hand and I will be there for you through thick and thin, through pain and misery and joy and love- I will be there to rub your shoulders after a busy day, I will stay beside you when the world leaders keep complaining on a boring day, I will be there to make you breakfast on Sundays and to bring you to bed when you stay out late in the palace garage. I want to just be there for you. Allow me to do that."

She breathed his smell- fresh sheets, cedar and sharp mint, she remembered how she joked he smelled like 'freshness in a person'.

It would be easier to leave him than to be with him- the hardships, the guilt and the regret that would come with leaving him alone would be impossible to deal with. Even if she goes through all the trouble to keep it away from him, to keep herself away from him, she might wake up one day thinking that if she had only been a little more strong enough to hold on for them- she would have been married to him, she would be the one who knew the cause behind all his laugh lines and she would be the one to make him laugh on a bad day. She could be the one- that she could have been that person if she had just tried instead of letting go, and that thought was what made a difference. However, there would be no point fantasizing 10 years from now when the time to do the right thing had already slipped from her hands.

"I won't leave, Kai. I promise."

A sigh of relief, followed by a bone-breaking hug and some sniffling and weeping along the way and murmured 'thank yous' and 'I love yous' was all that they required.

Love hurts, love heals but the most important thing is staying in love. Forever and Always, that's what it needs. In the end, some people are worth the pain, they are worth the fighting you have to do for them.

A/N: We are done! I couldn't help myself- I just love to bring Torin in each and every fic I write, tbh he deserves more representation so sorry not sorry! ;)

It was angst with an happy ending so I guess I fulfill @cinderswrench latest wish as well!

I think it would be good to say that I don't have any angst lined up for a while unless you all are kind enough to make some angsty requests!!

Thanks for reading! and for the readers who read on WP I have not published there yet!

Tagging: @cinderswrench @gingerale2017 @shellyseashell @shelbylmkaider @kaider-is-my-otp @linhcinder686 @kaiderforever (Tell me if you wanted to be added/ removed!)

#anon asks #love ya anon #requests #just2bubbly writes #just2bubbly fics #kaider #the lunar chronicles #tlc #marissa meyer #emperor kaito #linh cinder #empress selene #selene blackburn #konn torin #angst #love hurts love heals #fanfiction

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seancekitsch · 4 years ago

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I was Never Young: A Klaus x Reader fic

Anyways uhhh heres my fic based on the Klaus spin off series!! I made sure not to really spoil anything in the series if u guys haven't finished it yet but it does take place after the series events. there's no smut which is weird for me bc i usually write just smut but like yolo this is where it went.

Klaus had been through the ringer. Los Angeles seems to just be more of the same, so why even leave home? Right, he’d been kicked out and cut off. Well, at least one of those problems has disappeared, he thinks as he pats the ugly little satchel full of money at the side of his hip.

He meanders down the street, no real direction or motive as he shuffles down. The diazepine is starting to wear off, and he’s going to need something to dull the corners of his mind in about an hour. A neon green sign draws his eyes, looks as sick as he’s about to be.

‘Cobra’s’ the sign says, and this one is probably as good as any.

The bar has exactly six people inside of it, he realizes as he pushes the door open. It’s hazy, full of the stale and welcoming scent of menthol tobacco. Perfect, Klaus thinks.

The bartender is a stern looking man, like he used to be a wrestler. Maybe this is what Luther or Diego will look like in thirty years if they don’t eat their wheaties.

There are two other men sitting in a booth by the corner, deep in conversation with one another. They’re boring suits, no one that Klaus could have for company. He’s just looking for someone alive to have a conversation with while he numbs himself. Someone alive, he clarifies to himself. His last friend left for heaven’s greener pastures, which he’s happy for him, but maybe the guy could have stuck around on this plane of existence for a weekend longer.

There’s a couple at the end of the bar that looks like they're on a date. In the middle of the day? Wonder if their spouses know they aren't at work. Klaus laughs out loud, poor bastards.

And then there's you, with your mixed drink, absentmindedly swirling it with your little stirrer. You seem like a safe bet, so his feet drag him over to sit down at the middle of the bar near you. He more or less throws himself into the chair, his feet immediately feeling the relief. He’s still clammy and feverish in the come down, his stomach hurts, but that’s nothing a little booze and sugar can’t help.

You notice the guy as soon as he walks in. Of course you do. After a few years, you start to recognize people even if you don’t know them. You don’t recognize him. He looks paranoid, fresh off a set and worried about what a job will do, for and to him. Poor thing. Probably one of those River Phoenix types. Young, pretty, and overwhelmed. In teen mags one day, in the obituaries the next. All preventable, hundreds of people that could step in if money meant more than the people around you.

“Hey,” the guy next to you greets you, his voice uneven, watery and cautious. His hands shake a little as he pulls a stack of cash out of his threadbare satchel, pulling a few bills from the rubberband holding it together and flattening them out against the bar.

“Hey, yourself. You new here?” He looks surprised as the words leave your lips, but is interrupted by the bartender approaching.

“Yeah, whatever that special is for today, that’ll do,” he orders like he doesn't really know what to do at the bar. He turns back to you, looking ever so boyish and lost with his big green eyes.

“How did you-?”

“How did I know you're new here?” You throw the rest of your drink back, carelessly placing it at the far end of the bar from you, “Because you don't look absolutely beaten down. I mean, you look a little twitchy, but you look fresh.”

Fresh? That’s not at all how Klaus would describe his look, having not slept in days and having been using an extreme amount of controlled substances, even for his standards.

The bartender slides a glass towards him, and he scrambles to catch it. There’s a total of two umbrellas, a flamingo stirrer, and two straws in it. In all, garish and hard to look at. The bartender takes the money, and they nod at each other.

“You look kinda young to be here,” with that remark, Klaus takes a long sip of the fruity cocktail he ordered, a sickening blue color so intense you bet it could substitute as hair dye.

“You do too,” you quip. You’d been working in this town for a few years now, on and off movie sets and bartending clubs with live acts. This boy? He looked fresh. Like he’s just been taken for his first ride. He looked rough and unused to it.

“How old are you?” he asks, he can’t place your age or accent. You look just as young as him, if not younger. You sound southern- Boston- Chicago- western and somewhere European he can’t place. Is that what Hollywood does to people's speech patterns? Is that gonna happen to him? But you seem to be as much an anomaly here as he does.

“How old are you?” you mimic back.

Klaus stares in awe as you rest your elbow against the bar, making sure he sees that as you snap your fingers, a cigarette materializes between them. You quickly shift the rolled tobacco to rest between your index and middle finger, ready to place it against your lips.

“Listen, I’m old enough.” That's all you have to say about that.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “Sometimes I think I was never young.”

You exhale sharply through your nose, the hint of a laugh.

“Yeah, alright.” You fish around in your jacket pocket for the lighter and ask, “Do you wanna get out of here? Only smoking bar in town, but it ain’t got hotdogs.”

Hotdogs, Klaus thinks, He remembers having sausage back home, but he’s never had a hotdog.

“Why are you lookin’ at me like that? You never been to a baseball game or something?”

He shook his head, no. Klaus hadn’t ever seen a baseball game. He knew the history of it, the impact it had on American society. All from a very clinical and academic standpoint. Sports weren’t really his thing.

“Nah, I always preferred activities with a bit more... uh, substance.” He laughs at his own joke, whether you get it or not really doesn’t matter.

“Right, right. So River, what’s your real name?” You talk with the cigarette but between your teeth, lighting it quickly, before the lighter in your hand vanishes from sight.

“It’s….. uh, It’s Klaus.”

You give him your name, and he repeats it, tests the name out on his tongue.

You take a deep inhale, blowing the smoke out of the corner of your mouth.

“So Klaus, wanna buy us some hotdogs?”

You leave as soon as he finishes his drink, and he talks in a way that he thinks might be too much. But you listen. You’re the first living person that’s actually listened to what he had to say since he got here. He asks about you, your story, but he doesn’t get as much as he wants. You like your smoking, you’re a special effects designer, you dropped out of high school to come out here, and you fucking love Alonzo’s hotdogs.

“Hey ‘Lonzo!” you shout, interrupting Klaus mis sentence, raising both arms above your head, the baggy sleeves of your jacket falling closer to your elbows.

“How’s my kid doin?” The man shouts back. A tall man, with heavy brows and a mustache. “And who’s this?”

“My friend Klaus here just directed a movie! With Vivian Clarke, and the kid’s never had a hotdog! Can you believe it!” Your footfalls come quicker, starting to jog as you clear the end of the block, Klaus starts to shuffle quicker to catch up. When he gets to see the man up close. clear chocolate brown eyes greet him. He looks pretty trustworthy, Klaus thinks, Like Santa Claus, or John Stamos. Basically, like anyone but Dad or Viv.

Alonzo asks all about Klaus’ recent accomplishment, not exactly something he wants to talk about, but he likes that Alonzo is genuinely curious and polite. The only thing you say is “extra relish, on both. Big shot director pays.” during the conversation, focusing more on finishing your cigarette and stubbing it out with the toe of your boot. Klaus looks down and the cigarette butt leaves no trace on the concrete.

“So back there,” he says as you wait for your dogs to be handed over, “That cigarette business, are you a magician?”

“Nah,” you say, not fully meeting his gaze, “I’m a Libra.”

You nod at the guy as he finally pulls the dogs over the edge of the cart he operates. Extra relish, just like you asked. When he places the hotdog in Klaus’ hands, the redhead’s eyes go wide. Guess he wasn’t kidding about never having relish, you think.

“Huh,” he starts, dumbfounded by the hunk of grease and meat and relish in his hands, “I’m a Libra too, actually.”

“Guess that’s something about balance or something,” you say, effectively ending the conversation again by opening your mouth as wide as you can to accommodate the sheer mass of one of Alonzo’s hotdogs.

He looks at the meal, his first and probably only for today, and then takes your lead, opening his mouth as wide as he can before finally chomping down on a huge bite of it. The bite is… heavenly. Pickled vegetables and chutneys exploding on his tastebuds, the coolness of it contrasting with the fresh off the grill meat. No offense to mom or Pogo, but none of their cooking could ever hold a candle to this street hotdog.

“Good, yeah?” Your voice, distorted by a mouth full of food, breaks his almost nirvana like trance.

“So good,” he tries to say, mouth just as full as yours. He finishes chewing, swallows with a huge gulp.

“You got any more food spots to show me?”

#my work #klaus hargreeves x reader

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yyuangss-main · 4 years ago

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Since you do JoJo now, can you do the JoJo’s with a Hispanic s/o like you did a while back? I love my Joestar boys 🥺

Yesss I love my Joestar boys too 🥺

jonathan joestar

Listening to everything you say about your culture. He is so precious.

He’s down for whatever you want to do.

I think he’ll definitely enjoy trying new food. Jonathan will definitely love all of it. From quesadillas to any pork related dish. Favorites are desserts.

Pastel de tres leches is his favorite. Ever since you introduced it to him, Jonathan will try and eat it for dessert almost every day. He’s sad when you scold him for eating it too much.

Jonathan shares the cake with Dio if it’s not made by you. Dio picks up an interest in the cake too. But if the cake is made by you Jonathan will not and I mean not share with anyone. Even with you. Yes, he hogs the cake.

His Spanish is magnificent. He speaks it so fluently, you wouldn’t think he learned it. Finds it every efficient when talking to you and your parents.

If Spanish is the only language you’d know when you meet him, he will help you to learn English.

Dancing intrigues him. It’s different from the ones he knows. He doesn’t master it right away and takes him a bit to get the hang of it.

Brings you una serenata. I’m hella confident he’ll do it. Please Jonathan, bring me una serenata.

Jonathan you’re just so 👩‍🍳💋

Jonathan overall is just 🥰

joseph joestar

Teach him everything.

Don’t leave out a single detail to him. He’s so fascinated with it. He’s like a little kid, kicking his feet while hearing you talk about what you do.

Joseph’s Spanish is “Hola” and “Hola” alone before meeting you. I’m certain he understands Spanish but can’t speak it. So your conversations will be you asking him something in Spanish and him answering in English.

Not the best at dancing, I’d give him a 7/10. He could use some work on his cumbias.

Joseph wants to participate in any cultural activities that he can. He cares about you and doesn’t mind if you come from a different background.

Like we saw with Smokey, Joseph won’t tolerate any crude comments thrown at you. He blows a fuse quicker whenever that happens and it takes a lot to calm him down afterwards.

Joseph praises elotes. He likes the combo of mayo, cheese, and some salsa on it. Could eat three and still want more. He gets very excited whenever you tell him you made elotes.

Adores conchas but his heart belongs to besos. Will ask for a kiss whenever he gets his favorite sweet bread. Probably corny with it too.

Shows your cooking off to Caesar like “Ehe you ain’t got no girl who can cook for you like my baby do.” Caesar I’m here, pls I cook and I clean I just want a ring

jotaro kujo

One thing he will not do is dance. Unlike the rest of the JoJo’s who easily agree on dancing, Jotaro’s answer is always no.

Learning Spanish? He will do it. Eating Hispanic or making food with you? He will do it. Celebrating a holiday with you? He will do it. Dancing? Flat out no.

If you even think about asking him he already read your mind and says no.

After months, he finally gives in and you find out the reason why he always said no.

This man has bad rhythm. Cannot dance to save his life. He definitely practiced in secret (probably with Star Platinum) only to find out he’s ass at dancing. Stepped on your foot every time and you thought you were gonna get bruises.

Either that or he stiff 🧍🏻‍♀️

His Spanish is kind of broken but his effort to communicate pulls through. I’m positive Jotaro finds it easier to express himself to you in Spanish.

Jotaro won’t admit it but he really likes telenovelas. He fakes interest but stands over your shoulder watching it intently. He knows more about it than you do.

Hides a slip of paper where he’s writing down Spanish words, a few things you mentioned you liked, and important days you celebrate.

Part Four Jotaro is still bad at dancing. I must make that comment.

josuke higashikata

His hips don’t lie baby. A+ dancer according to me. This really be yall at the parties —> 💃 🕺

Stiff where? Jotaro wish he had Josuke’s dance moves. Josuke is the dance partner you’ve been searching for.

Love love love and I mean LOVES Selena. Josuke was a fan of her before meeting you. Definitely where he first learned to dance. This makes Josuke a big fan of cumbia.

Ask him to dance. Matter fact, he’ll drag you to your feet to dance. Josuke could dance with you in his room without any music playing and it’s him making up a beat.

Josuke’s downfall? Cannot learn Spanish. His brain just ain’t registering it. He knows the basic greetings. But try and make a full conversation? Josuke doesn’t remember anything.

Whatever you teach him goes out the other ear. Jealous because Koichi and Okuyasu got Spanish in the bag. Rohan be like “Yes I know Spanish.” when he doesn’t just to get on Josuke’s nerves.

He doesn’t understand how you clean with music playing. Josuke thinks you’re a witch because for thirty minutes he’s watched you dance instead of cleaning and once he blinks everything is spotless.

Josuke’s favorite dish is probably pozole. He’ll eat los granitos all day and all that’s left in the pot is the meat. Won’t even let his mom try the full dish. Unlike me, he can eat it for weeks straight.

He feels so honored whenever you tell him your family invited him to a party or even to have dinner.

giorno giovanna

Giorno’s 👏 good 👏 at 👏 everything 👏

Has 👏 no 👏 downfall 👏

He will dance with you if you ask him. Imagine dancing bachata with Giorno 😌 I would like to experience this please. He’s more of a smooth type of dancer.

No stiffness, no mess ups, gets it all after the first try.

Oh to dance with Giorno. A girl can only dream. Giorno will love to dance when it’s the two of you. Maybe he’ll tell you how much he loves you in Italian when dancing. Maybe sprinkle a little Spanish in there too.

Giorno’s not so best dance has to be rancheras. He can make some mistakes when dancing it but not very noticeable to people around. Just to the two of you.

Spanish for Giorno, easy A. Some words are similar in both languages. Learned it without having any troubles.

Like Jonathan, he speaks it so fluently you wouldn’t think he picked it up. Sometimes he’ll find himself slipping a few Spanish words to Bruno. That or he’ll bounce from Italian and Spanish when talking to you.

Flan. Flan is Giorno’s favorite dish and will make it on his own. It took him four times to make it correctly. Each time you were the taste tester and babie was waiting for approval like :) to see if it was good.

Giorno >>>

#difficulty level — easy #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jjba imagines #jjba x reader #jonathan joestar #jonathan joestar x reader #joseph joestar #joseph joestar x reader #jotaro kujo #jotaro kujo x reader #josuke higashikata #josuke higashikata x reader #giorno giovanna #giorno giovanna x reader

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padfootagain · 4 years ago

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Infuriating

Here we go for a new fic for my 4.7k event!! Answering the request made by @inkhearthes for Sirius using the following prompt (they are written in italics in the fic):

9. "Does it hurt?"

"Not that... OUCH!"

10. "I can't believe you got punched in the face."

"For you. I got punched in the face for you."

11. "It's dark, and it's late, and I'm cold and I'm drenched with this freaking rain and yet all I can think about is that I love you."

34. "Cuddles, cuddles, cuddles!"

It's fluffy. A tiny bit angsty, maybe? I'm not sure, I think it's pretty fluffy.

Anyway, I hope you like it!!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count : 3683

Of course, you had to be duelling against Sirius fucking Black.

Of course, out of all the students in seventh year with you, you had to be paired with the one you hated the most.

You found him absolutely infuriating. 1000% infuriating. The most annoying person on the surface of the Earth, you reckoned.

You had been facing him for five seconds and you were already so mad at his stupid long dark hair, and his bloody cute chin, and his stormy grey eyes that didn't seem to have an end, and those stupid lips you dreamt about kissing…

Argh! Really, he was insufferable!

And why did he even pick you? You knew the reason, of course, it was just to allow his idiotic best friend to try and seduce your idiotic best friend… as if Lily wasn't already just as head over heels for James than he was for her…

And so, you found yourself paired with Sirius fucking Black, of all people, and you wanted to slap this smirk of his away, or maybe kiss it, you weren't 100% sure yet.

Because, of course, you got along perfectly well with Sirius. You were both playful and full of banter, and he was charming despite being an idiot sometimes, and he was smart too, and talented, and very very sweet, and a little dangerous maybe and…

… and you had a crush on him.

Huge, HUGE crush on him, and that was bad. Very bad. Terrible. Especially because the crush you had wasn't really a crush and more like love.

So, you were mad at him. So mad at him for making you fall for him when you never even intended to befriend him in the first place, let alone love him. And yet, there you were. All this because he was just an absolute sweetheart with a stupid sense of humour and a heart of gold despite all the pain he had been through during his childhood, and had cheekbones to die for.

Of course, how could you resist him?

So now, there you were, about to duel you friend, aka crush, aka potential love of your life, and he was acting so smug about it you heaved a defeated sigh.

Both of you knew that you were better at duelling than he was, and you would soon kick his pretty arse, but you almost felt bad for it. You had your bloody, irrational heart to blame for it all.

Your teacher was gone for just a few minutes to fetch something - you were too focused on watching Sirius laugh at that moment to listen to your professor about what he was leaving the room for.

All you knew was that there was no teacher in the room, which quickly turned into some nasty argument between a few students behind you.

Why was your name even brought up in the first place, you had no idea. All you knew was that before you could understand what was really going on, one of the Ravenclaw boys you had rejected a couple of weeks before was shooting nasty comments at you.

But when the word slut rang through the room, the whole situation got out of hands.

"Hey, Trevor, why don't you shut it!" Sirius snapped before you could have time to reply on your own.

"Sorry, Black, What were you saying? Were you talking to me?"

"I told you to shut your stupid mouth! How dare you talk about her like that? Especially you, Trevor, considering that you have the brain of a mandrake: all you can do is whine all day long."

"Say that again to my face, just to see, Black!"

"Oh, but with pleasure…"

"Sirius!" you tried to hold him back as he strode across the room, meeting Trevor halfway, standing chest against chest and taunting each other to hit first.

James and Remus had taken a step towards the boys too, ready to defend their friend if need be.

You walked over the two of them and pulled at Sirius's sleeve.

"Sirius, please. He's not worth it."

"Yes, Black, listen to your girlfriend… oh wait, you ain't together. Yeah, I bet she rejected your sorry arse."

"Coming from you, who can only insult every girl who refuses a date, I find the blow particularly ironic."

"Don't worry though, I bet she's not a good enough shag anyway. Probably aren't worth the trouble…"

"Say one more word and I'll turn you into a toad," Sirius warned the Ravenclaw, grabbing him by the collar of his robes.

He was so blinded by his rage towards the boy that he didn't see anything else in the room.

How could he dare speak of you like this? You of all people? You, who were a literal ray of sunshine, and so incredibly talented, and bright, and kind, and smart, and hilarious, and he was head over heels for you. Sirius was ready to lose his mind with how much he loved you. Had for years. Had since that night in third year where he had caught you making a trip to the kitchens at midnight and had ended up sharing his snacks with you. Since that moment that you had laughed so much you had ended up chocking on your pudding. Since that night when, for the first time, you talked through the whole night. Since that early morning when you had cried when he had told you about how his family treated him. Since the second you had wrapped your arms around him and promised him that if he needed help, he just had to call you, and you would protect him.

And now hearing some idiotic ghoul insult you was making his blood boil so much that he wasn't able to notice anything happening around him, including Trevor's fist flying across the air to land on his cheekbone and make a clear cut through his skin.

Sirius was hitting the floor before he could understand what had happened, and his body had barely hit the ground that you and the rest of the Marauders were pointing your wands towards the Ravenclaw and his friends.

You were interrupted by the sound of footsteps of your professor coming back, though.

"Y/N, get Sirius to the hospital wing," James instructed, but his friend was already back on his feet, shaking his head.

"I'm fine, Prongs. 'S just a scratch."

"You're bleeding," you argued, but he shot you a grin as an answer.

"You should still go," Remus jumped in. "Or we might all end up in detention."

You grabbed Sirius's hand.

"Come on, you idiot."

"Hey!"

But you ignored his protest and dragged him into the corridor and away from the class, heading for the Hospital Wing.

"Now, I'm not sure that if we truly want to avoid detention, going straight to Mrs. Pomfrey would be the cleverest idea," Sirius argued. "Besides, it's nothing."

You had to agree with him on that, going to Mrs. Pomfrey would get both of you in detention. It was pretty obvious by the look of Sirius's cheekbone, bloody and slowly turning from pinkish to purple, that he had been punched.

"I think I can patch you up," you offered, taking a closer look at his bruising face.

"Perfect. Let's go to my dorm then. We won't be disturbed there."

You accepted with a nod, and followed him all the way to the Gryffindor tower and to his dormitory. And the more you walked across the castle, the angrier you were. Sirius was hurt, and it was because of you. You wanted to go back and turn Trevor into a lizard. You wanted to punch him too.

And what was Sirius thinking? Acting so recklessly?

The wound colouring his cheekbone wasn't serious, but it still needed to be cleaned, so he reached for the bandages and bottles of disinfectants that the boys kept for their monthly trip to the whomping willow, just in case.

It's only when he let himself plop onto his bed with a sigh that Sirius noticed that you were glaring at him.

"What's wrong, Y/N?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

And Merlin, did he annoy you… what was wrong? He was bleeding!

"I can't believe you got punched in the face." You shook your head.

"For you. I got punched in the face for you," Sirius corrected you, waving his finger at you pointedly, a smug smile on his face. "I reckon that you owe me one!"

"Why by Agrippa's name would you do that?" you asked, ignoring his stupid remark.

Because you weren't in the mood for his stupid charm, and his insufferable smug smiles, and his silly humour, and the way he always hid his pain behind wits. You weren't in the mood for any of that, you weren't in the mood for the way he always tried to look tougher than he was, because for so long no one had showed him any other way to deal with his emotions, except by bottling them all up in his chest. And you were tired of his tough act, and all you wanted to do now was shake some sense into his head and make him realize that someone had just hit him, and for what?! Because Trevor had insulted you?! That was most definitely not enough of a reason to get punched in the face.

But he looked at you with a curious frown, as if he didn't understand why you asked that question, as if the answer was obvious.

"He… He was making fun of you. He was insulting you. So, I defended you."

"I didn't ask you to."

"We're friends, you don't have to ask me to. I'll be there whenever you need me."

"Who says I needed you back there?"

He didn't answer, studying your expression with an unreadable look across his features.

Why were you mad?

You didn't say anything more, and reached for a clean clothe instead.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not that... OUCH!"

Sirius bucked away as you harshly pressed the piece of fabric against his wounded cheek.

"Now, don't be a baby," you mumbled under your breath, a deep frown adorning your brow.

"I'm not being a baby! You're the one being as delicate as a cave troll! Besides… what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"What?"

"What is wrong with you? Why are you mad at me?" Sirius snapped, his voice staying low, but his tone as corrosive as acid. "I've just got punched in the face for you, and you're mad at me?!"

"Yes, I am mad at you, Sirius," you replied, throwing the clothe away in exasperation. "I am mad at you, because you got punched in the face! What were you thinking?!"

"I was thinking that you needed me…"

"I don't need you, Sirius!"

The words escaped before you could refrain them, even if they were a mere lie.

Of course, you needed him. That was the point, actually. You needed him safe, and happy, and laughing. You needed his stupid long dark hair, and his bloody cute chin, and his stormy grey eyes that didn't seem to have an end, and those stupid lips you dreamt about kissing…

And you needed the way he always hid his pain behind wits, and the way he made you laugh every morning when you drank your fist swing of tea on purpose just to make you choke on it and look at how mad it made you with that stupid smirk plastered on his lips. And you needed the way he always held the door for you, and how he didn't even ask before he would pick up the mountain of books you were taking from the library for your essays. And you needed the way he said your name in that deep voice of his, and this almost-shy smile he gave you every month when he walked back from Hogsmeade and offered you a bunch of sweets from Honeydukes. Always your favourites. Every single trip to Hogsmeade ever since you had been allowed there during your third year. You needed to hear his laugh ringing through the corridors, so loud that you were aware of his presence way before seeing him. You needed his stupid pranks and his even more idiotic acts of kindness. You needed his broken parts and all his scars if only to help him make them slowly get better. You needed him. You needed him so badly, it hurt sometimes, right there, in your chest, and there was no way, absolutely no way that you would let him endanger himself for you.

You needed him more than you needed your pride or reputation.

Yet, it was the opposite that your tongue formed on its tip as you spoke.

And the words kept on ringing through his mind like a broken record, and it was more painful at each echo of your voice.

I don't need you, Sirius.

Well, that was clear, at least. No need for Sirius to keep his hopes up anymore. He had kept on hoping for you to maybe, one day, feel for him something else than a platonic friendship, but clearly you weren't on the same page. Instead, you didn't need him.

And he hated you, then. He truly did. He hated you, because he wished he could have answered with a remark just as poisonous and painful as your words had been, but he couldn’t. Not that he didn't find the right words, no the problem was more insidious.

He couldn't say it.

He couldn’t, because then, he imagined the pain crossing your features, and he couldn't bring himself to be the reason behind any of your sorrow. He was used to it, really. Being in pain in silence. Taking the punch without saying a word. Swallowing the insults without fighting back. Years of survival skills had developed while he was a child. Now, he was excellent at biting his tongue and imagining what scenarios could come out as a result of his words. He had made progress over his years spent by James's side to loosen up that tendency of his to overthink everything. That, coupled with his natural will to rebel, and he was good now at fighting with both his curses and his remarks. But not to you. No, not against you. He didn't want to use this weapon with you. He knew way too well that words were often way more effective at hurting someone than fists. The wounds cut deeper, and the scars never healed. He knew for certain that he would never forget the look on your face as you said that you didn't need him.

And he couldn't summon the strength to reply with words that would be just as painful. He had just gotten punched in the face for you, after all. That ought to speak about the way he felt for you.

So, instead of replying, he walked out of the room, leaving you behind.

It took you two hours to find him.

It was raining so hard, and the late days of September had brought a cold wind that curved the veil of droplets as they fell from the heavy black clouds above your head. The sun had almost set by now, and judging by how you were hungry, you guessed it was time for supper in the great hall. Your feet were frozen because of the mud that covered your ankles and splashed across your calves.

You had checked the shores of the lake, and Hagrid's home, and the edge of the Forest, and the Quidditch Pitch. But he was sitting a few meters away from the Whomping Willow.

He didn't seem to mind that his robes were covered in mud and drenched by now. Actually, he didn't even react as you hurried towards him.

"Sirius!" you called as you approached him. "What are you doing? It's freezing, and it's raining, you'll catch your death!"

He slowly turned his attention towards you, his grey eyes fixed upon you, his dark locks clinging to his forehead, his neck, his temples, because of the heavy rain. With the sadness in his gaze, he looked like a sad and wet puppy.

"Let's go inside," you mumbled. "You'll catch a cold, or worse. For how long have you been here?"

He took the time to look carefully at you, finding that you were just as drenched as he was, shivering in the cold rain.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, ignoring your own question.

"I was looking for you, obviously," you answered. "Now, come on, let's get you dry…"

"You were looking for me?"

"Of course! You just… disappeared, I was worried sick about you!"

He merely blinked up at you.

You heaved a sigh, swallowing your pride with the lump in your throat. You had to apologize for lying to him, and acting like an idiot, when he had simply tried to help.

You were such an idiot, sometimes…

"Look, Sirius… I'm sorry about what I said in the dorm. I didn't mean it. Please, let's go back inside."

"It's okay. I'm not mad at you," he answered with a soft smile.

"What?"

"I'm not mad. You're right, you don't need me. I was acting as if you did, but I was wrong. I guess… I thought we were closer friends than you mean for us to be. It's okay. I understand."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm used to it, really. It's fine. Sometimes, I start needing people more than they need me. It's alright, I get it."

"No, no… No, Sirius, you don't get it. I was just mad because you got punched in the face, and I was worried about you, and I said utter nonsense…"

"No need to feel bad about all this. It's okay."

"It's not okay! It's not okay, because it wasn't true!"

"Y/N…"

"It's not okay at all, how can you say that it's okay?!" you asked, starting to raise your voice. "I hurt you! And I was mean! And I shouldn't have said that, because it's not true at all! So be mad at me!"

"I… I don't want to be mad at you…"

"I'm sorry!"

"I forgive you, alright… are you, are you crying?"

It's only then that you noticed that hot tears were mingling with the cold rain across your cheeks.

"I'm so sorry. I never want to make you feel like that. I'm so sorry," you whimpered.

"It's… it's alright."

"I was lying. It's not true. Please, don't say that we're not friends anymore. I do need you. I do need you, Sirius. And I hate it! I hate it, but I need you! And it's… It's dark, and it's late, and I'm cold and I'm drenched with this freaking rain and yet all I can think about is that I love you."

You didn't seem to notice your confession as it passed your lips, and for a moment, Sirius wondered if he had heard you right. But there was no mistake, you… you had said it.

You loved him?!

Slowly, he stood up, while you kept on crying.

"I was just mad at you because… because you mean so much to me, and I… I hate to see you hurting. I hate to see you in pain. And I hate it… I hate it when people are mean to you. I'm so sorry. I was so worried about you. I'm…"

But you were shushed by Sirius's arms wrapping around you, encaging you all of a sudden. You needed a few seconds for your brain to register what was actually happening. But it was his arms pressed against your back, and it was his chest against yours, and it was his cheek against yours.

"It's alright," he spoke in a soft, warm voice. "I'm not mad. I forgive you."

Finally, you wrapped your arms around his frame too, your tears finally stopping.

"Thank you, for defending me," you eventually whispered in his ear, your warm breath such a burning contrast with the cold air against his skin, making him tremble in the best way.

"Anytime. We should go back inside though, you're frozen."

"Yeah, I'm really cold."

"You know what… I think we could cuddle. Cuddles, cuddles, cuddles!" he mumbled, making you sway from one foot to the other, and you couldn’t refrain a laugh at his silly behaviour.

"I'd like that," you nodded. "With blankets."

He hummed in agreement.

"But… are we gonna discuss the fact that you've just told me you love me?"

Your heart stopped altogether.

"Did I?" you asked, although you knew perfectly well that he was right.

What had passed through your brain to make you say something like that?

"Yeah, you did."

You looked for the right words to apologize, but Sirius was faster than you to speak again.

"So… What about we go to Hogsmeade together next month?"

You pulled away just enough to be able to look at him.

"Are you… Are you asking me on a date?" you asked.

"Maybe…"

"Maybe?"

"Depends on… whether you'll say yes or no."

"What would we do then, if it's a date?"

"I have a few ideas. Know about a couple of places we could visit. I know you'll like them."

"Already? You already know what we're gonna do? Even if you've literally just asked?"

"Maybe… just maybe… I've been imagining that for a while," he admitted, blushing.

You couldn't help the grin that formed on your lips.

"Really?"

"Yeah… really… but… huh… you have to give me an answer before I get my hopes too high…"

But your grin didn't waver. And when you stared at his eyes, he could read your answer already, without needing you to speak the words.

Still, it was a nice thing to hear, and a nice thing to say, so you answered out loud anyway.

Merlin, Sirius was infuriating. And you loved him so much.

"Yeah, I'd like to go on a date with you, Sirius Black."

***********************************************

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