#suddenly the draft i got fell apart and i just went to look at this set of merged prompts in a different way

[aria0fgold]

Whumptober day 16, alternative prompt used: Brass Knuckles and Whumptober day 22 prompt: Glass Shard

Characters: Mel, Marigold Ages: 15, 29

Mel hissed as Mari applied ointment on his injuries. A swollen cheek, cracked lips, several cuts and bruises all over, he even seemed to have sprained his ankle as well, though he wasn't certain of that, not when the only pain he can feel is from his other foot that had glass shards lodged into it earlier. It was quite an unfair fight, 5 people with some wielding weapons, a bat, brass knuckles, or whatever. Yet even with those advantages, they still lost, pathetically running with tails between their legs.

“Aight, ya got any excuse bout this?” Mari continued to tend to his wounds, one of her pals saw him and ran to get her. So here they are, in one of their hideouts closest to the area. There was a small frown on her face, he can't quite tell if she's mad at him or the people he fought.

He merely stayed silent, he didn't have to energy to explain anything to her nor does he have the energy to even talk at all. He just wanted to get to bed, to hell with his injuries, infection be damned, he didn't care about anything anymore, he just wanted to collapse somewhere and never wake up.

“Mm… Well, should've expected that silence.”

Mel groaned, rolling his eyes and looking away, anywhere to distract himself, the pain wasn't a problem to him, he had worse before, what was the problem however, was Mari herself. He can't understand her at all. A gang leader famously known to be scary and strong, caring and tending for a brat she found half-dead in an alleyway. He sometimes thinks it would've been better for him to have died then. What was the point?

Why would she even bother to look after a stranger's kid, completely unrelated to her? His parents didn't even bother to care for him the way she's doing. So what's the point?

“Hey.” Mari snapped her fingers in front of him.

Mel frowned, “What?”

Mari put a hand on her hip, looking him up and down, “Hmm… Anyone ever told ya yer easy to read?”

He huffed out a sigh, “Yeah, the people I just beat up.”

She whistled, her lips forming into a smirk, “Oooh, look at that. Ya plan on fightin' me next too, aye?”

Mel glared at her.

She merely chuckled at him, “Maybe wait when yer all healed up. Wouldn't mind a spar with a lil zombie.”

“Seriously, just say what you wanted to say. Stop with that shit.”

“Heeh… Already said all that I wanted.” She shrugged, “Ya know, that gloomy look don't suit ya. Want me to tell ya bout that time I found ya?”

Mel let out a loud groan, “Shut it then. I don't wanna hear it anymore.” He'd heard that story countless of times already, far too much to keep track of, he never understood why she liked talking about it so much.

Mari didn't seem to listen, “You were sitting all bloodied at that alley--”

“I told you to shut it.” Mel grabbed a shoe nearby, throwing it at Mari who caught it with ease and an annoyingly smug expression.

She laughed, annoying him even further. She can be so unbearable at times, yet Mel can't truly bring himself to hate it. If anything, he hated that it brought him a sense of comfort.

He clicked his tongue as he stood, though he stumbled forward, Mari was there to steady him by grabbing onto his arm.

“Here, here, I'll carry ya.” She turned, bending down to carry him on a piggyback.

“No--”

“Aish! I aint taking no as an answer from ya! Ya can't even stand well! If ya don't want a piggyback then I'll carry ya like those princesses.”

Mel grumbled as he climbed on her back, tugging at her hair in irritation when she laughed, though it didn't quite stop her from laughing even more.

“Anyway, bout time ya tell me bout those brats ya fought.”

“So what? You can get revenge for me?”

“I aint giving ya that luxury! Ya get revenge on yer own, but those idiots did step into my territory so someone oughtta teach em a lesson not to.”

Mel chuckled, “My information comes with a payment. And payment first.”

Mari grumbled, “Aight, aight! Whatever! Tell me what ya want then!”

Mel laughed, a genuine laughter for the first time in so long, yet he didn't realize it as such. All that he knew then was, it wasn't so bad living like this.

[cherimoyatea]

The LaDs Men healing your inner child...

...they accidentally evoke your insecurities and comfort you.

❧ Part I - Xavier - One bite away...

Pairing: Xavier x You Synopsis: You feel unappreciated because Xavier wasted your cupcakes. Tags: confused xavier almost food poisoning himself, irritated mc, food waste, mentioning of blood (a little), fluff, romance, comfort Word Count: 750 Side Notes: So, this actually turned out a bit longer than originally intended, but my brain kept spilling ideas, so I just went with it (we haven't been close lately, so I take what I can get *coughs*) I had planned to write a draft for all four men and post it in one go, but they ended up being a bit longer, so I decided to create a little series instead and post it as short stories. Deliberately avoided specifying the traumas so that everyone can project their own ideas if they like. I'm still new to writing about LaDs, but I tried to capture each man's personality as best as possible. Starting off with Xavier, since October is his birthday month! 🎉✨ Part II - Rafayel ❧ Part III - Zayne ❧ Part IV Sylus

''Huh? What do you mean by 'I'm leaving?' You just got here.'' Xavier looks at you, confused, as you turn your back on him and head towards the front door. He rubs his sleepy eyes, still unsure of what exactly happened.

You found him sleeping on the sofa in his apartment earlier and used the spare key after ringing the bell in vain. At first, you were touched by how cute and vulnerable your boyfriend looked in his sleep, but your feelings quickly shifted when your gaze fell on his open kitchen counter.

On your way to the hallway, you again, spot the cupcakes you baked for Xavier three days ago. They're still sitting untouched on the counter, and the unrefrigerated buttercream looks anything but fresh by now. You take the plate with the cupcakes and walk over to the trashbin, while a burning feeling of disappointment spreads within you as you press the foot pedal of the bin, opening the lid.

All for nothing.

You spent half the morning preparing a surprise for your boyfriend, and he hasn't even tried your baked goods. The thought that your effort went unappreciated weighs heavily on you, and you just want to leave his apartment as quickly as possible.

''Wait, what's going on here?'' You suddenly hear his voice and startle as he unexpectedly appears behind you, snatching the plate from your hands without you realizing it.

''Everything's fine. Just leave it alone.'' You shake your head, still annoyed by his lack of interest in your baking. ''Cupcakes need to be refrigerated, or they will go bad.'' Your serious stare shifts from the plate in his hands back to Xavier's bewildered face as you sigh with a defeated shrug. ''Guess, I have to throw them away now.''

''Xavier! Have you lost your mind? You could really get sick from that!''

You reach out and try to take the plate from him, but he quickly steps back and pulls it away. ''Nope. They're mine'' he replies with a soft smile, as you watch him set the plate down on the counter and take a moldy piece of pastry. Your eyes widen as he brings it to his mouth to take a bite, and you quickly grab the dessert from his hand and throw it into the trashbin.

He looks genuinely distressed as he stares at your baked goods in the trash and berates himself for his own negligence. ''You really didn’t have to do that, MC... I'm sure they would’ve still been delicious.''

An awkward silence fills the room as you sigh and follow his gaze. ''Why did you even leave them on the counter? You usually finish my food in no time...''

Only then do your eyes catch the small bloodstain at the bottom of his white sweater, and you gasp as you lift the hem. ''Xavier, what the...?!'' Your heart drops as you notice the bandage awkwardly wrapped around his right hip and he quickly pulls his sweater over the injury, attempting to hide the leaking wound, but it's too late— you have already seen it.

And suddenly everything becomes clear: Your beloved didn't eat the cupcakes because he wasn't home. He was completely unaware of the surprise you prepared for him and collapsed on his couch after he got back, drained and exhausted.

''Xav, don't tell me you were on a mission that I didn't know about...''

You say, suddenly feeling so bad for being upset over him just a minute ago.

''And what if I was?''

For a brief moment, Xavier turns away, trying to avoid your concerned expression as he considers whether to be honest with you. But then he lets out a sigh and steps closer, meeting your gaze softly.

Blue, warm eyes study every muscle on your face, trying to read your mind while you hear his soothing voice. ''Sorry for not enjoying your pastries in time. Please don't think that I don't appreciate what you do for me.''

Guilt runs through your veins as you realize that moments earlier, your partner was willing to put his health at risk in order to improve your mood, His selflessness, brings tears to your eyes, and you feel the suffocating sense of worthlessness slowly vanish from your body.

The handsome silver-blonde man softly brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his warm eyes fixed on yours. ''I've fought through every battle just to come back to you, MC. You are seen and cherished—always keep that in mind.''

Thanks for reading!

Cheri 🍒

Updated Nov. 20th:

Added links to the other parts + fixed formatting.

[just-trying-my-best-everyday]

My Timebomb fanfic from two years ago suddenly started getting a ton of traction on AO3 (hilarious, if you ask me), so I went looking through my drafts for another fanfic I remember writing at the time. It's not finished, it's not good enough for AO3 but I still want the Tumblr Whores to have it, so here:

Life is funny.

That was Ekko's last thought before he jumped off the roof and landed heavily on his hoverboard, making it heel over and skim the surface of the river below. It splashed his boots, the water seeping through the leather and reaching his socks. He stabilized himself and shot up. Time was a precious commodity he couldn't afford to waste. 

A bullet barely missed the top of his head when he abandoned the cover of the wall. He spun above the building, keeping his eyes firmly locked on her.

Ah, Jinx. Destructive, dangerous, bad news in one of the most beautiful disguises nature could offer. The Firelights' worst concern. Little Man's biggest regret. She made him feel like she was the only one who could pump air in his lungs, his hands itched to strangle the wind out of hers. His first love, his most ardent hatred. He would gladly mourn her at her feet one second if he could drive a knife through her heart the next. Her features were familiar, she'd gotten rid of several faces he forced himself to add to the mural, right next to hers. 

He would kill her today.

Would he hesitate?

Frustrated, he stomped the front of his board. It tilted forwards and he dove down, club in hand, ready to strike. Jinx saw him out of the corner of her eye and shot indiscriminately. As he dodged the first round, he suddenly thanked his gut for recommending he handled this particular mission alone. Her machine gun was effective to a fault with big groups, but much less so individually. It was heavy and even though she was definitely strong enough for it, it slowed her down and made her deadly aim slightly more manageable. All he needed was to eliminate some distance and he'd have her.

He swung when he got close. She ducked. Of course she ducked. Then it was just a game of speed: would he turn his hoverboard around the fastest, or would he get a bullet in the neck? 

She won, she was always faster and faster. With the years, he'd learned he couldn't keep up. All he could do was face her for just the right amount of time for her shot to hit the board instead of him and send him tumbling to the ground. 

Static noise fizzled in his ears on first impact. His mask cracked and fell apart a moment afterwards. He shook his head and the white dots on his field of vision disappeared. The club was still on his hand, Jinx had yet to open fire on him. That was all he needed to know before lunging forward, screaming.

She laughed. She always laughed, even as he knocked her beloved weapon out of her hands and forced her to back away to avoid his hits. 

"Ah, Boy Savior," she proclaimed as if he were the guest she'd been expecting. "Long time no see. Came to check up on little old me? I'm touched."

He charged forward again. Yes, he had. He always did. Always on her heels to find out where she'd been, who she'd crossed, how she came out of those encounters she didn't try to avoid. "Studying the enemy", that was what he called it, what his Firelights thought it was. But some knew. Eve added tidbits about her in her reports, Scar dissuaded others from joining in missions just like this one when intel indicated she'd be around with a stern glance. They never brought it up, never shamed him for it, but they knew Ekko still saw a sliver of Powder in Jinx, even if he was pretty damn good at ignoring it.

She holstered herself up on a nearby pipe like a feline and his club met only metal. "Feeling very chatty today, aren't we?"

"Get down from there." He wiped the sweat off his upper lip.

"Nope."

"We're fighting."

"You're fighting, I wanna chat about our days and have a nice cup of tea together."

"Unless you wanna talk about Shimmer, I'm not interested."

"But that's so boring." She rested her chin on her fist and propped her elbow up on her knee. "And I have nothing to tell you that you don't already know, do I? I'm not in charge of that stuff. You should ask Sevika. I get it, she's not as pretty as me—"

"Enough chit chat," he cut her off and slammed his club into the pipe.

Smoke sizzled out of the dent he left in the metal. She bellowed when it clouded her, so she stood up, holding her gun with murderous intent. Her hand didn't tremble as she pointed down and slowly scanned her surroundings in search of a target. He crouched deeper into the makeshift fog. She was right above him. If he jumped—

"There you are."

A shot rang in his ear, missing his arm by an inch. The bullet ricocheted against the ground and clanked to a stop near his feet. He looked up and saw her sardonic smile, the ever present tinge of craze cranked to a hundred. The trajectory of the shot had cleared a straight path through the smoke.

One.

She fired again. He dodged and ran towards the areas where the smoke was denser. It did him no good; she just blew it off again. Two.

He dropped to the ground when a third bullet whistled by his ear. A fourth one lodged firmly into another pipe behind him, making it puke a dark goo all over his shoes. The one that flew off the roof was five and the one he managed to deflect with a bunt of his club was six.

No one was too much of a threat with an empty cartridge. 

He kicked the parapet and propelled himself into the air. Jinx had a thumb on the cylinder, ready to push it open and reload, but she didn't get a chance. Her eyes flashed wide in surprise, and next thing she knew, he had hammered his weapon into her ribs and thrown her off the pipe.

They tumbled down together after he lost his momentum. He heard her gasp when she collided against something. His joints cried at the repeated abuse he put them through by falling from different heights, but he regained his footing immediately and attacked again. Even though she was still on the ground, she slithered away from the swing of his club. So he tried again and again. He hit the ground again. Curse her, she could never stop being faster than him, nimbler, more agile. 

It had always been like this, hadn't it? She used to fit in every vent and alley like she fit in the cracks of his heart and he used to win wrestling matches with as much ease as he tore holes in the concrete roof.

Finally, she reached the edge. She tried rolling to the side, but he discarded the club and snagged her up by the shoulders. His fingers dug into what little flesh she had. She was all bone and skin that quickly turned purple in his grip. She growled and twisted, her nails pulling at his coat in a vain attempt to break free. But he rammed her body against the parapet and ignored her manic, wordless objections as he tried to bring himself to tighten his hands around her throat.

She spat on his face. "Violent behavior for a savior."

He clenched his fingers, adding just the tiniest bit of pressure. "Shut up."

"Come on!" She wheezed. "Do it, Boy Savior! Go all in before it's too late!"

"Shut up."

"Don't tell me you're scared!" Even choking, she laughed. "After all this time, you get scared now?"

"Shut up, shut up," he hissed, "shut up."

"You can shut me up," she suggested innocently. "Forever. But hurry up, I'm getting impatient here."

He was trying. He wanted to press down and get it over with. But Powder… No. Powder was dead. He was just getting rid of the corpse.

"Okay, yeah, you're taking too long." He felt cold steel against his side, right above his left hip. "My turn."

Of course, he thought. Of course she had modified her cartridge to hold seven bullets instead of six. Of course he'd failed to take that into account. Of course she'd wait until he had her to pull her final, most cruel prank. 

Through the splotches of white in his vision, he saw Powder's muscles tense to push him off herself and dump him over the parapet. He saw her face, framed by choppy bangs, curiously peek over the side of the building as he fell. Her hand caressed her neck and the pain that blazed in his abdomen mixed with guilt. I'm sorry I hurt you. He tried to reach out to her, because goddamn, he missed her. I just wanted to save you. 

But she was too far away and his body crashed into the warm water below. As he sank, he found out he couldn't swim. His mouth filled with water and blood as he tried to scream her name.

Everything went dark.

- - -

Jinx had already mentally prepared her thank-you speech for when Silco congratulated her for finishing off the leader of those pesky Firelights when she realized Ekko was going to drown. 

Ekko. 

Drown. 

Die.

"Way to go, Jinx," Mylo leaned over the parapet to watch. "You killed the last one of us. Guess you can cross that off your list."

"I don't want to hear it," she growled, but she remained frozen in her spot, watching Ekko sink lower and lower.

Ekko. 

Sink.

Drown. 

Die.

"You're really going to let him die?" Claggor had always been kinder and more soft spoken. It was usually a welcome change from Mylo's harsh truths, but right now, it felt like a spear through the ribs. "Like this."

"Yes. No. I have to."

Claggor sighed, disappointed.

Ekko.

Die.

The water was polluted. If he magically didn't drown, the garbage would infect his wound and kill him painfully. 

Had they hurt when they died? 

"You know, it was unavoidable," Mylo continued. "One by one, we would all fall before the Jinx."

She barely registered his words through her throbbing pulse in her temples. 

Ekko 

Die.

Forever.

Gone.

Silco wouldn't be happy. Sevika would want her head. She didn't care what Sevika thought. Silco wouldn't congratulate her on this.

"Dive in first," Claggor encouraged her. "Think it through later."

Ekko. 

He couldn't die.

Not like this, not yet.

Not by her hand.

"Give it up, Claggor, she can't save anyone." Mylo. Always so mean. "All she can do is break."

Ekko.

"—curse—"

He wouldn't die. 

"—and jinx everything."

The rest of Mylo's insults were lost in the whooshing of the wind as she jumped.

- - -

Ekko stumbled in and out of consciousness. He saw his feet, half staggering, half dragging through mud. He heard cursing in a familiar voice. He felt something dense and warm trickling down his leg. Every cell on his body was on fire, but he was shaking.

It was so cold.

After half an hour of drowsy pain, a faint smell of trees brought him back. Green spots. Moonlight. Life. With extreme effort, he forced himself awake. The first thing he noticed was the bony arm holding him up, covered in swirls of blue. 

"Welcome back, Boy Savior."

Powder?

Jinx.

He struggled weakly. If there was grass, there was only one place they could be. The Firelight Hideout. Jinx was in the Hideout. She had him, probably as a hostage. Scar wouldn't fight for him, neither would Eve or the others. He knew they'd surrender for him. It couldn't end like this. Powder had been the end of him, but Jinx wouldn't be the end of them.

"Woah, relax, silly." She tilted his weight onto herself. "You're hurt. Don't wanna bleed more than necessary, do we?"

His mind finally began to clear and he realized they were already in front of his cabin. She kicked the door open and walked him through. Helped? Impossible. It had to be a trick. He shoved her away and his side flared up in pain of a thousand colors as soon as he set his left foot down. His knees buckled underneath him and his back hit the desk. 

"Would you stop that?" She yanked him up and threw his arm over her shoulder to support him. "Someone's going to hear us."

"If they do, all the better." He didn't try to break away again. She was the only thing keeping him standing and he didn't like the plan of falling and bleeding all over everything again. Because yes, he was bleeding, as far as he could tell by the wet stain on his pants and the puddle on the floor. "I'll scream. They'll get you."

"Please." She helped him lay down on the bed and turned around to lock the door. It worried him even more when she propped up a chair against it. "You know damn well your goons wouldn't last a minute against me."

They would. She was unarmed, possibly battered up from their fight, and completely surrounded. Then again, he wouldn't put it above her to blow everything up with one match and a bottle of soda.

So he opted to slowly settle down on the bed, moving as little as humanly possible. "They're not my goons."

"Don't go all semantics-crazy on me. Where do you keep the first aid kit?"

He pointed towards the closet. Soon enough, her weight dipped down the mattress by his side, and he didn't have the strength to kick her out.

"Okay, Boy Savior," she pulled out gauze and a latex glove and set them on the nightstand. "I'm taking the bullet out. It'll suck. Hold on to something."

"Are you insane?" He blocked her hand before she could get close to his wound. "Leave it there. Do you want me to bleed out?"

She looked him dead in the eye. "Do you know all the shit I put in my bullets? It's been an hour already. It's a marvel you're not dead. So stop moving if you don't want to die."

"I'll get a doctor instead."

"You don't need a doctor with me here."

"You are the reason I need a doctor at all."

"Oh shush." She set his hand down on the mattress by his side. "Hold your breath."

He closed his eyes and heard the latex snap against her skin. This was an awful idea. Life endangering even. And he let her? He really just allowed her to reach inside his wounds to pull out a bullet she put in? What in the world—

His entire body contorted when something that was once hard and cold came out warm and covered in things he needed to live. It was like opening a tap. Blood spilled like water out of a fountain and wet his clothes and his bed. He held back a scream. A hand clutched his own and he squeezed. 

It wasn't like he hadn't lived through worse, but knowing it was Jinx patching him up hurt a hundred times more.

He slowly opened his eyes. She had pulled up his shirt up to his stomach and was wrapping clean cloth around his waist. He squinted at the way she swiftly worked with only one hand. She hadn't let go yet, so he did first and gripped the covers instead. He was still shaking.

Red seeped through the bandages, but she kept adding more until it was kept under control. The pressure on his hip felt relieving. Not good, not any less painful, but at least he wasn't dying.

He didn't thank her. He would never.

"There we go," she patted his side. "Good boy. Good Boy Savior."

"Do you ever shut up?"

"Nuh-uh," she wiggled a finger in the air. "No complaints are accepted if you throw away your shot at shutting me up."

His eyes landed on the dark marks in her neck. They were even, almost like they'd been painted with thin brush strokes instead of murderous intent. Powder wouldn't have forgiven him, he thought. But it didn't matter, because Powder was dead and he had no interest in asking for Jinx's forgiveness.

"You need to leave." He pushed himself up on one arm. To his surprise, she didn't try to keep him down, but rather wordlessly helped him to sit up. "Now."

"No."

Realization hit the bottom of his stomach like a punch to the gut. "How do you even know where this place is?" 

She scoffed. "Are you kidding? I followed you a thousand times. Duh."

They knew. They had found them. A long time ago. If they hadn't attacked yet, that could only mean they had a terrifying fate ready for them. But they couldn't leave. They'd work too hard for their taste of paradise to give it up without a fight.

"What's Silco planning?" He seized her by the shoulders. "You have to tell me. What's he gonna do to us?"

"Silco doesn't know where you guys are."

His hands dropped. "What?"

"Only I know," she winked. "It's my secret."

"Why? Why didn't you tell him, if you knew?"

She shrugged. "He never asked."

He didn't find the words to answer that. So he didn't. He just stared at her unkempt braids and her bangs that stuck to her face. He belatedly realized he was drenched as well. That was why he felt so heavy. His coat had soaked up water like a sponge and his scarf had drawn so tightly around his neck he was almost choking. The covers around him were damp already. 

Her eyes followed his and dropped on his clothes. "Come on, Boy Savior, let's get you out of those wet clothes."

She tugged at the lapels of his coat, but he snatched her wrist before she could pull it off him. "You need to leave."

"No." She closed her fist around the fabric, even as he held her hand as far away from him as his strength allowed him. "You're gonna go cold. Too early for that. You need to die first."

"I'll handle myself."

"You can barely move."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Just let me—"

"Let you what?"

Her silence sizzled in the air between them for all of the fourteen seconds she held his gaze (he counted). They'd gone darker, her eyes. Beyond all the the light in your eyes is gone bullshit, they seemed several shades deeper now. Maybe it was the poor lighting in his room. Maybe it was a natural effect of aging. How come it was such a surprise for him? He should have been with her for so much time he couldn't tell the differences between one day and the other until they found old photos and laughed at how much they'd changed since then. But no. He was there, in the moment, finding new things he had no way of knowing were there.

She had freckles on her nose now, and maybe they were why he loosened his grip on her when she said, "let me help. For once, let me do something right. Just one thing, one time. Let me help."

He gave up and rested his head back against the wall. She started with the coat, slowly sliding it off his shoulders. It was a weight off his back, almost immediate. She undid his utility belt and laid it on the desk, careful not to break anything. He didn't do anything to stop her from unwrapping his scarf, but made no move to help either. After all, she wanted to help, right? So let her help, let her manage. 

Before she continued with the last layer of clothing, she got up to get new clothes to replace the wet ones with. Ekko closed his eyes. There was nothing in his closet he wanted to keep from her, or at the very least, nothing he could keep from her. Fabric rustled as she rummaged through the drawer. She was humming about bombs and bullets and tricks. Weird song. What was the original like? Powder— Jinx didn't have the best sense of rhythm and melody. For all he knew, she was singing gibberish to a made-up tune. 

He jerked up when she tugged at his shirt. She immediately raised her hands in surrender. "Pinky promise I'm not making a weird move on you."

[trekscribbles]

The Bushwhack Job: Chapter Four

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

(Disclaimer: This is a relatively rough draft and subject to change when I post to AO3. I'm just overly excited and want to share what I have.)

Three bodies had been recovered from the destroyed LanCast building.

It took several hours to discover that much. Nate had insisted they leave the hotel as Eliot instructed, falling back on one of the contingency plans the two of them probably talked about when they were alone in the bar. Parker didn’t ask. She didn’t want to think about worst-case scenarios.

Once secured in a new hotel across town, Hardison had done whatever he usually did to get their information, and came up with a police report of the accident.

Three bodies. No identification. Awaiting coroner’s report.

They took the news in silence. They climbed into Lucille in silence, they drove to the morgue in silence, and they entered the cold building in silence. Hardison and Parker donned their FBI disguises, with Nate and Sophie wearing the appropriately stricken expressions of worried loved ones. It was late, but the badges got them in, and an assistant met them at the door and led them to the lab where the autopsies were being performed.

“Special Agent Thomas,” Hardison said, flashing his badge to the medical examiner. “This is Special Agent Hagen. We’re invistigating the incident at the LanCast building.”

The medical examiner, whose nametag identified her as “Dr. M. Morton”, glanced at Nate and Sophie. “We haven’t been able to identify the victims yet. Are you hoping to find someone? I can only speak with immediate family.”

“Our son,” Sophie said in an unsteady voice. “He may have been inside the building when it—when it…”

Nate put a hand on her arm, and Hardison cleared his throat to bring the doctor’s attention back to him. 

“What can you tell us about the victims?”

“Not much, I’m afraid.” She gestured at the three bodies, which her assistant had hastily covered in white cloths. “The remains were badly damaged by the fire. They were all male, all aged late-twenties to mid-thirties.”

“Anything else?” Parker asked, her stomach dropping. “Height? Clothes? Anything they may have had on them?”

“These two are around 6’2”, 6’3”. This one is shorter, maybe 5’7”.” Dr. Morton indicated the body in the middle and frowned when Sophie gave a little gasp of dismay. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Does that match the description of your son?”

Sophie nodded, pale-faced and trembling.

Dr. Morton gave her a sympathetic look and lifted an evidence bag from the tray at the body’s feet. “We found this on him,” she said, holding it out to Sophie. “Do you recognize it?”

They all leaned in, and Parker felt the heat leave her body in a rush.

Eliot’s necklace.

Sophie’s knees gave out. Nate caught her as she fell, but she sank to the ground with her face in her hands, shaking. “It’s him,” she sobbed, her voice muffled. “He’s ours. It’s Eliot.”

A strange, distant buzzing sound filled Parker’s ears, and for a moment, it was all she could hear. Hardison spoke beside her, and Sophie went on crying, but the words were lost to the static hum inside her head. The doctor asked them something, and Nate stared straight through her as if she didn’t exist. He wasn’t old enough to be Eliot’s dad, but suddenly he looked it.

They can’t handle it, said a cold, detached voice in her brain. They’re falling apart. Who’s going to hold them together?

Eliot. But Eliot was gone, and Eliot couldn’t be gone, and it didn’t matter whether he was gone or not, because he wasn’t here.

Parker was.

She blinked, and all the noise slammed back into her, and her brain caught up to what Dr. Morton was saying.

“—so sorry I have to ask, but it would help if we could get a DNA sample to verify his identity.”

“Yes,” Parker said. “A DNA sample. I’ll just—this is a shock for them. I’m going to take them out and give them a moment.”

Dr. Morton nodded. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”

Parker glanced at Hardison, who was blinking at the body under the sheet, his eyes wide and wet. She put her hand on his shoulder to turn him away. “Sir,” she said to Nate. “Ma’am. Let’s go. We can talk outside.”

Nate looked at her, but there was a strange emptiness in his eyes that made her feel tiny and hopeless. “Sir,” she repeated. “Please come with me.”

“Sophie,” he murmured, breaking eye contact with Parker to crouch at Sophie’s side. “Come on, honey. Stand up.”

“I don’t want to leave him,” Sophie said, her voice thick and broken. “Please, he can’t stay here, not with these men. Please, can’t we—?”

Parker took Sophie’s elbow and pulled her gently to her feet, guiding her toward the door. Nate and Hardison followed, but Parker didn’t look back. She had to get them out. 

Eliot would get them out.

She brought them to the van, and took the driver’s seat after getting them safely inside. Hardison was crying now, too, but Nate sat in absolute, unmoving silence. She drove to the hotel, parked, waited for someone to open the door.

No one did.

“We don’t know,” Hardison said after a few minutes. His face was dry, but his voice still sounded uneven. “He could have lost the necklace. It doesn’t prove anything.”

Sophie shook her head, but had to try twice before she could get her words out. “He would have called. He would have found us if he wasn’t…”

Dead. The word slammed itself against the inside of Parker’s skull, over and over again like a security alarm she hadn’t accounted for.

Dead, dead, dead.

Adapt to the situation, the voice in her head said. First things first. Take care of your team.

She opened her door. Hardison followed her, helping Sophie from the back, but Nate stayed where we was in the passenger seat. Parker moved around the van to open his door, but he didn’t look at her.

“Go inside,” she said, her voice low and steady. “We’re not done.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said.

“Lancaster knew about us,” she said. “He set a trap for Eliot and me. We have to finish this, or he’ll keep coming after us. After Hardison and Sophie.”

He looked up then, his eyes still hollow, his hands loose in his lap.

“This is what Eliot would do,” Parker said.

Nate lifted one hand and set it over his face. He took a breath, two, and exhaled so heavily that his shoulders shook.

“What would Eliot say if it was one of us?” he asked.

Parker shook her head. “It wouldn’t have been anyone else.”

“What does it say about me that I couldn’t stop this?” Nate asked, and Parker heard the unspoken again in the way his voice hitched at the end.

“I don’t know,” Parker whispered. “But we need you. Lancaster is going to try again, and we need you.”

Nate nodded, dropping his hand once more. He stood unsteadily and followed the others across the parking lot toward the door.

Parker watched them go, slipping her hand into her pocket to remove the evidence bag she’d taken when Dr. Morton's back was turned. She opened it, picked out the necklace, and clasped it around her neck, tucking the cold metal charm under her shirt so it laid flat against her skin.

Then she followed what was left of her team inside the hotel.

[kolebrew]

I'm Your Ken, Barbie Pt. 1 | Gojo X Reader

summary:

When you wake up and realize that everything is pinker then usual you find yourself concerned with more than just your dream house.

There are many kinks, and sexual activity past the first chapter... please be advised.

We are Black/POC in this household.

Every Barbie needs a Ken. Gojo is your ken.

'What the hell is that noise-'

“Ughhh who’s playing music it’s so early” No matter how many times you yell for your roommate to turn the volume down the music keeps going, in fact it feels like it's playing everywhere all at once. You love Lizzo but you don’t love Lizzo right now. Your pillow is over your ears and when you realize that the music is still going for what feels like forever you yell and you just want to scream. You adjust the pillow over your ears and can feel that your bonnet has come off your head.

‘So everything just got worse i see-FUCK’

“WOULD YOU SHUT I-”

You were completely stunned, more than stunned you were shocked. Suddenly you couldn’t even scream.

Oh yeah and everything was PINK! Or at least that's how the song that was playing went. Dam, maybe the song was catchy.

You slowly get off the bed and you refuse to address that the bed was a hot pink circle and your bed frame was a pastel heart. You were continuing to analyze the satin sheets and fuzzy rug when suddenly…

“HI BARBIE”

“AH!”

You tripped over your feet and fell next to the bed, when you sit up on the floor and crouch behind the bed you look to see who yelled “Barbie”

“Who the fuck is Barbie??” you ask yourself. When you look up you realize the room you were in had no walls, in fact the surrounding houses also lacked walls yet there was no draft coming in.

‘Wtf’

When you lock eyes with the woman who appears to have been the one who yelled at you the music seems to lower and the upbeat funk quiets enough for regular volume conversation?

“Um h-hi”

you see her waiving at you and so you wave back awkwardly before hiding behind the bed. You try to think of what to do, one minute you are sleeping in your bed in your apartment and next you are… apparently wearing a silk baby pink sleeping gown. Everything about this was ridiculous and pink. You try to think of your first course of action, which happened to be getting out of this gown and changing into something less… pink.

You were in a weird situation and have yet to process any of it yet you feel a very weird and sudden urge to take a shower and have breakfast? When you strip from the gown that was somehow your exact size you step into another pink room with a shower in it and well, water doesn’t exactly come out but you will NOT question that or open another can of worms. It felt like you had a daily routine and you were sidetracked, everything felt weird. When you go to the closet in your room you are glad to believe that maybe there will be something other than pink, you were right because there was the color blue… a lot. You try to forget it and switch to the simplest dress you can find and there are many dresses. You did look nice in them.

‘Okay, let's get the hell out of here ' you thought to yourself when you looked at the fridge and everything was plastic, you weren't a fan of eating plastic.

The only thing left to do was figure out how to get out of what looks like a play house, to your right is stairs and to your left is a slide… when in Rome you guess. You brace yourself from the top floor and take off the very uncomfortable pair of heels you had put on to of course match your outfit because what else would you do. You hold on tight to your dress and heels as you make your way down a very long long set of loops and turns.

By the time you make it down there you are greeted by another woman in what is an outrageously gorgeous dress with her hair pinned up and styled without a hair out of place. It’s with that you realize you didn’t do your hair and you didn’t wake up with a bonnet so your hair must be-

“I love your hair Barbie!” you wonder what it is she just said. “Oh- um me?”and she nods her head with a big smile, when you feel your hair you realize that you have a large curly and kinky set of hair…and oh my god it feels amazing to you. “Thank you… Barbie?” “You’re welcome Barbie!”

That’s when the realization dawned on you. The pink life sized playhouse, plastic food, no water, perfect hair and clothes and-

‘Oh my god im a Barbie’

… You find yourself wandering and come across a huge beach with waves that shined like plastic because they were plastic, then if it couldn’t get any weirder a ‘Barbie’ comes up to you and says “Oh there you are Barbie, I’ve been looking all over for you, your Ken is looking for you.” with a smile she turns her head and points at a figure coming out from a shack.

“Oh my god” “Who’s god?” “No one Barbie.”

You walk a little closer and until you could get a good look at the man in front of you. He was something but definitely lived up to the Ken name. When he got close enough to you to shoot you a smile you faltered.

“Hi Barbie” his voice was smooth like silk and even though you weren’t a small girl he towered over you.

“Hi Ken.” was all you could let out

“Can we talk, back at your dream house Barbie.” your mouth was wide open but you managed to respond. “Yes Ken.” he led the way although it was technically your dream house, when you appeared in front of the steps he smiled wide at you.

“Barbie, i’ve been looking all over for you, i’ve searched for you.”

“Oh okay, I'm sorry I dont know whats going o-”

“I wanna be boyfriend girlfriend with you. You are my Barbie, Barbie.”

You didn’t know what else to say once again and this time he held the tips of your fingers of both hands, so the most responsible thing you could say was- “okay Ken.”

His smile fainted into a smirk and he stepped even closer to the point you had to lean your head back to avoid touching the tip of his nose with yours. As he moved his hands up your arms to grasp you he says. “I picked out a name for myself that you can call me, that I would like if you called me.”

“What’s your name?” you couldn't help but wonder.

“Gojo Satoru, I’m your Ken, Barbie.”

[nicklesbam]

another short story, I'm not quite sure how to start the actual story yet. BTW I figured out where the drafts are so yay!

angst, blood

Y/n walked into the hotel. The look on her face only showed heartbreak. She had blood all over her clothes

"Y/n?" Kuina saw her and came running up. Y/n could only keep walking. Kuina didn't know what to do

She watched as y/n walked up the flight of stairs in despair. She was the only one in her group that had come back. Kuina sighed and walked to the pool area to chishiya

"Somethings wrong" she told the man as she sat down. He looked at her acknowledging what she said

"Y/n came back from her game" she laid her head back

"And?" He had his brows raised

"She looked terrified. She had blood all over her and when I called out for her she just kept walking" kuina sighed. Usually y/n was energetic and a fun person to hangout with

"I wonder what happened" chishiya mumbled

Y/n had been looking at herself in the mirror for a while now. She played a 6 of hearts game. The objective had been to find the imposter who would try to take the heat off themselves. Y/n wasn't so lucky and got picked for the role as the imposter

She made it but she feels guilt, horror, shame among many other things. Round 6 came along and she was just praying to survive at this point. There were 3 players left. Her, a young girl, and a man

They all looked around at each other, wprey setting in. Y/n put on a poker face through the entire thing. They had casted their votes on who they think it is. The total came out 2-1

Me and the young girl voted on the man. He started to yell out scared of what's about to happen. A laser struck down through his head splattering blood everywhere. The young girl turned to y/n with teary eyes

"It was you" her voice started quivering. Y/n looked down at the table

"He tried to tell me earlier that it was you and I didn't believe him" she started to break down crying. She tried to stop crying for a moment though

"Can you just do one thing for me please?" She asked. Y/n looked towards her direction guiltily

"Will you tell my family I love them? I didn't get to say it before this all happened" more tears fell down her face. Y/n nodded

"Of course... I'm sorry it had to end this way" y/n spoke softly trying not to show the sadness in her voice

"That's ok. I probably wouldn't have made it much longer anyways" she tried to give a light laugh

"Can I give you a hug?" The girl asked. Y/n hesitated but shook her head yes. She stood up and the girl followed

The girl gave y/n a gentle hug and y/n reciprocated

"What's your name?" I asked the girl when we pulled apart

"My name is-" a laser shot down through her before she could answer. Blood got everywhere on y/n

That's how she wound up here. Blood everywhere, face showing heartbreak, and sadness consuming her

Suddenly she heard a knock on her door. She opened it silently and Chishiya was there. She just stared at him. He had his poker face on 24/7, sometimes she wished she could do that

"Hey, heard you were the only one to come back from your group" he spoke. Y/n nodded and went back to the bathroom mirror, leaving the door open for the man. He walked in and looked around

"Hearts?" He asked while sitting on her bed. She nodded her head again

"Are you going to speak?" He asked yet another question. She looked to him and opened her mouth

She couldn't stop herself from breaking down. She fell to her knees as she let out the biggest sob she ever had as she covered her face

He knelt down on the floor with her and she was expecting him to just sit there to be honest but he surprised her. He embraced her in a hug. She hugged him back while gripping the back of his jacket to make sure he wasn't going anywhere

Chishiya and kuina are the only two people she trusted. She would be torn to shreds on the inside if one of them were with her tonight. In fact she might've just given away her identity for them

Y/n took a very deep breath trying to speak

"Never go into a game with me, you and kuina better not" she took another deep breath, "If we were to get the same group, we switch with someone else" she leaned back to see his face. He nodded at her

"Good" she leaned back into him. A hug was what she really needed. They stayed like that for a minute. The only sounds in the room was y/n trying to steady her breath and the little sniffles she had every now and then

"Can you tell me what happened?" He asked. Y/n nodded

"6 of hearts. The objective was to find the imposter and the game picked me to be it. It cake down to the last round and it was just me and her, me and that sweet girl. She didn't even hate me after she found out.. she just had one final wish for me to tell her family that she loves them. I asked for her name but.. it was too late. We were out of time" tears were still in her eyes but she wouldn't let them fall because if they did she didn't know if they would ever stop

Chishiya rubbed her back trying to soothe her. He may be cold and heartless to anyone but he was still her friend. Kuina introduced the two of them. At first he despised y/n. She was so cheerful and full of life, he envied it. As time went on he found it endearing how she was so persistent on being around him and kuina

"Take a shower, I'll go and get kuina and I'll be back" he spoke. Y/n nodded her head and got up

[whump-about-it]

Just some OC drabble I found in my drafts. I think I was writing it for Whumptober but clearly didn't get around to publishing it

CW: Lost time, memory loss, referenced kidnap, referenced beating, loss of consciousness.

Linc couldn’t remember how they ended up in the field. Or when they had made the call. They didn’t even know how they had gotten the flip phone they had made the call from. The last thing they had any clear memory of was waiting on a street corner in the center of the city. Everything else after that seemed blurry. They had been in a car at some point. A house. There had been yelling. Someone had hit them; more than once.

Linc put their hands on the sides of their head. Trying desperately to remember something. Anything. The phone fell out of their hand, and they pounded their temple with their other. They couldn’t even remember who they had called. Though when a battered minivan pulled to a screeching halt on the side of the potholed road next to them, they knew exactly who was in it.

“Linc!”

Alice was jumping out of the passenger’s seat before the vehicle had even come to a full stop. She ran towards them and grabbed their shoulders, raking them with her gaze. Still at the road, the car was pulled into park and Aiden emerged from the driver’s seat so fast Linc suspected he hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt.

“Linc!” Alice repeated. “Are you okay? What’s wrong.”

Linc tried to look at their friend, but they couldn’t get their vision to focus. Alice’s concerned face swam in front of them and the world behind her spun. Their balance faltered suddenly and they would have collapsed if Aiden hadn’t grabbed them by the shoulders at the last second.

“Woah buddy!” He said. “We got you.”

Linc tried to regain their balance but couldn’t seem to get a steady footing. They felt like they were standing on ice. They grabbed for something to help them stand. After flailing for a few seconds they landed with one hand weakly grasping Alice’s elbow and the other on the pocket of Aiden’s jeans.

“We got you buddy. We got you.” Aiden repeated. He pulled all of Linc’s weight against him and began to lower his friend to the ground. He was being gentle, but that was part of the problem. In the arms of their friends, knowing they were at least protected with them, Linc’s world was falling apart fast. The twilight landscape behind Alice was spinning at a mile a minute, and her face was now so blurred Linc only knew who they were looking at from memory.

“Are you in any pain?” Alice’s voice wafted over the growing ringing in Linc’s ears. Linc tried to nod in response. They hadn’t noticed it before, but everything hurt. They felt bruised all over, breathing was hard, and their head pounded. The movement of trying to nod sent their world twisting and tumbling nauseatingly. Things began to grow dark around the edges, and Linc squeezed their eyes shut, trying to stay conscious.

“Linc!” Alice was saying loudly “Look at me sweetie.”

Linc pried their eyes open for a few seconds before the nausea got worse.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Alice asked. Linc couldn’t even tell she had her hand up. They couldn’t see her face. Their vision turned grey and their strength gave out as they went limp against Aiden who was still holding them on the ground.

“Linc!” Adien said startled. “Shit! Al, they’ve got a gash in their head.”

The last thing Linc remembered before totally losing consciousness was feeling their friends’ hands in their matted hair and hearing Alice swear.

“We need to get them home now.”

[bethanythebogwitch]

Digimon fanfic chapter 1 draft

Hi, I'm posting the draft of chapter 1 of a Digimon fanfic I'm working on for proofreading and if anyone is interested in reading it. It's set in the Adventure canon between 02 and Tri, but follows original characters. Using dub terminology except where I think the dub is dumb. Chapter 2's draft in in the works.

--------------------------------

“Your brother is in the Digital World”

Daniel stared at the mysterious message that had just popped up on the family computer, then shouted.

“I knew it!”

“Hmm, knew what, danny?” asked Blue, Daniel’s partner Dracomon as he looked up. The red-eyed, small blue-green dragon with little red wings and antlers had been gnawing on a dog bone on his favorite spot on the family room’s recliner. 

“I just got a message from the Digital World saying that Andrew is there,” replied Daniel, “and don’t call me Danny”. 

It made sense, of course. This would be the second time Andrew disappeared into the Digital World. The first time was in 2000, not long after he watched the battle between the Japanese DigiDestined and Diaboromon on the internet. After a full two months, he returned home to a terrified brother and father with tales of a world full of digital monsters. To prove it, he brought back a partner Digimon, a Dracomon. Andrew never said much about what he went through on his adventure in the Digital World, but his Dracomon was accepted into the family. Two years later in December 2002, Daniel witnessed Andrew sending the light of his Digivice to help a new team of Japanese DigiDestined defeat the terrifying MaloMyotismon. Not long after, a digi-egg and Digivice emerged from the family computer, granting Daniel his own partner Dracomon (nicknamed Blue to tell him apart from Andrew’s) and marking him as a DigiDestined.

“Wha’s the rest of it say?” asked Blue, his interest suddenly diverted from his beloved bone.

Andrew turned back to the computer and read the message out loud.

“Your brother is in the Digital World. We want to help him and we want your help. We don’t have much time. If you want to help, touch your Digivice to the computer screen over this message. You have an hour to decide or we’ll have to go without you”. 

“What do you want to do, Danny?” asked Blue

“Of course we’re going to help, he’d do it for us. Plus, we can finally go on our own adventure just like he did”.

Blue looked excited. “Yeah, adventure!” Then his face fell and he looked down at the dog bone. “But what if there aren’t any bones there?”

“Fine, go get as many as you want, I’m going to write dad a note”.

As Blue ran to grab a bag to collect his precious bones, Daniel went to write his dad a note. He paused before beginning, unsure of what to say, but decided it was best to keep it simple and direct. 

“Dad, Andrew is in the Digital World again. He needs my help, so me and Blue are going to go bring him home. Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine and back again before you know it. See you soon. ~ Daniel”

“I’m ready, Danny,” Blue cheerfully stated, carrying a plastic shopping bag full of at least 4 dog bones still in their packaging.

“I told you, it’s Daniel. I’m not nine anymore,” retorted the annoyed boy as he walked back into the family room. 

It was time. Daniel took a deep breath and took Blue’s hand.

“Let’s do this,” and with that, he held out his Digivice to the computer and the world dissolved in a swirl of colors. 

--------

“Keiko, something’s happening!”

At the sound of her partner’s voice, Keiko Kurosawa looked up from reading her book. The young Japanese girl’s short, black hair, broad-rimmed glasses and outfit (consisting of her school’s blue and white seifuku underneath a black sweatshirt emblazoned with a cartoonish skull) marked her as the quiet type with some unusual interests. What she saw was one of the many television monitors scattered around the Digital World beginning to glow bright enough that she was forced to turn away and shield her eyes. When the light faded, there stood two new figures. One was a human boy a year or two older than her wearing a red tee shirt emblazoned with a yellow star, a pair of khaki shorts, and an expression of wonder. His brown hair was unkempt, causing it to look spikey and showing that he wasn’t the type to care much about how he looked. Next to him was a small blue-green dragon Digimon.

Daniel looked around in amazement. They had arrived in a clearing in a forest, scattered through which were multiple shipping containers buried part way in the ground with no apparent logic or order. Two humans were present, one was a girl in glasses, who was crouching on the ground reading a book. Next to her was a Digimon that looked like a large, purple and white hamster with batlike wings in place of ears. The other human was a few years older than Daniel, around Andrew’s age. He had Asian features and dark, angry eyes underneath short black hair. His clothing (consisting of hiking boots, long pants, a jacket over his black shirt, and a backpack) was practical and clearly intended for someone who spent a lot of time outside. No Digimon stood next to him. 

Woah, Blue,” exclaimed Daniel, “We’re really in the Digital World aren’t we?”

“Beats me,” was the dragon’s reply. “I’ve never been there either”.

“You are in the Digital World,” said the girl. “You can call me Keiko”. Normally she wouldn’t let someone she just met use her given name like that, but when surrounded by Americans do as the Americans do, right?

“What’s up, I’m Daniel,” Said the American (a bit too loudly), as he grabbed Keiko’s hand, making her start a bit at the sudden gesture. “And this is Blue, my partner. Are you DigiDestined, too? That’s your partner? A Patamon, right?”

Keiko was taken aback by Daniel’s abruptness, but she was granted a second to think of a response as her partner angrily spoke up.

“You got dust between your ears? I’m no Patamon, I’m Tsukaimon!”

“Calm down, Tsukaimon,” admonished Keiko. “And yes, she’s my partner.”

Blue opened his mouth to give some response to Tsukaimon’s bluntness, but was interrupted by the third human, who had stepped up to the children and Digimon. 

“Now that you’re here, we need to get a move on,” he said bluntly.

“Who are you?” asked Daniel.

“Clark Yun,” responded the older boy. “I’m a friend of your brother’s and the one who decided to bring you in on this. Let me get something straight right away. I’m the most experienced one here and if you want to get through this safely, listen to me.”

“Uhh ok,” responded Daniel, bewildered by the older boy’s bluntness.

Clark nodded. “I’ll fill you in on more later. For now, we’re in a hurry and need to get moving. But first, there’s someone we need to talk to.” With that, he turned and walked toward the center of the clearing, where a small metal object was embedded in the ground.

“Is he always like this?” Daniel whispered to Keiko as the two followed.

She shrugged in response. “I just met him today and he’s barely said two words until now.”

“I reckon he could use a lesson in manners,” angrily muttered Tsukaimon. 

Clark reached down to the metal object and flipped a switch. Above it, a hologram flickered to life, displaying a young, brown-haired man in a robe.

Daniel gasped. “You’re Gennai, right? The DigiDestined chatroom has tons of stories about you!”

The man chuckled. “As happy as I am to meet a fan, no. My name’s Benjamin. You can think of me as Gennai’s colleague or brother. Or both. Clark here has helped me out with quite a few issues in the Digital World. Right now we have a problem I think you, Daniel, and you, Keiko, will be uniquely suited to solve.”

“My brother, right? Is he in danger?” Daniel asked.

Benjamin nodded. “I’m afraid so. You’ll need help to rescue him. Clark is going to guide you to the Subroutine Jungle, the home of lord Baihumon of the Harmonious Ones. He will give you aid. On your way-”

Whatever Benjamin was about to say was cut off as a combat knife shot out of nowhere, impaling the hologram projector and destroying it in a shower of sparks. 

‘GET DOWN!” yelled Clark. He shoved the shocked Daniel and Keiko behind the nearest shipping container. Their Digimon, being programmed for a dangerous life, had automatically started moving toward cover. 

“What’s going on?” asked Daniel as he picked himself up from the ground.

“It must be a wild Digimon,” said Keiko. “Maybe we intruded on its territory or scared it.”

“That’s no wild Digimon,” replied Clark in a deadly serious tone of voice. “I’ve seen those throwing knives before. It’s Sealsdramon. An assassin. It will wait as long as it needs to to get us. We need to fight and I don’t have a Digimon. It has to be one of you.”

Keiko and Tsukaimon shared a look. “We’ve been to the Digital World before, but not to fight,” said Keiko. “Tsukaimon hasn’t even Digivolved past her Rookie stage.”

“What about you?” asked Clark, turning his gaze to the least experienced member of the team.

Daniel swallowed. Blue had Digivolved, but never been in a real fight. All they knew was what Andrew had showed them 

“Don’t worry,” said Blue. “I’ve digivolved before. We can take care of this, right, Danny?”

Daniel nodded. Of course they could do it. Andrew could, and he showed them what to do.

“You bet we can, partner,” Daniel said, forcing down the shock and worry of the unexpected attack. He pulled his Digivice out of his pocket and held it out toward the little dragon. “Let’s do this”

Dracomon Digivolve to… Coredramon!

In place of the little dragon stood a much larger one. Seven feet tall, with dark blue scales and a pair of wings, the Coredramon’s razor-sharp claws and powerful fangs showed this was a creature programmed for combat. Blue’s wings raised, then beat down, propelling him above the shipping container in one powerful motion. 

“Blue Flare Breath!” A stream of blue fire shot from the dragon’s mouth in the direction the knife had been thrown from. The flame shot toward the trees, splintering them with the sheer power of the blast. Something moved between the fallen trees.

“Left!” yelled Clark. 

Blue, still airborne, whirled left just as another knife shot from the forest, clipping him in the shoulder. Blue roared in pain and let loose another Blue Flare Breath toward the new origin of the knife. More trees splintered and ignited, creating a haze of smoke that began rapidly filling the forest. As Blue squinted, trying to see through the smoke, a figure shot out of it behind him. This Digimon, Sealsdramon, stood shorter than Blue, no taller than an adult man. It had the appearance of a bipedal dinosaur, but its entire body was covered by or composed of metal, making it look more mechanical than biological. One eye was a large blue lens while the other was smaller and red. Two scabbards emerged from its shoulder, a knife held in each one. A third knife was clutched in one mechanical hand. 

Daniel barely had time to yell a warning before the Sealdramon leapt forward. “Death Behind” it declared in a monotone voice as it drove the dagger into Blue’s back. 

Blue roared in pain as the Sealsdramon leapt off of him, leaving the blade in his back. It quickly drew a replacement from one of the twin scabbards, which quickly grew another knife. Blue whirled around and dropped to the ground. The two Digimon glared at each other before charging. Blue lashed out with his powerful claws, aiming a blow at Sealsdramon’s neck, but the assassin dropped down, sliding along the ground and delivering a slash to the dragon’s ankle. 

“Coredramon!” shouted Clark. “Sealsdramon can’t fly!”

Blue’s eyes widened. He once again turned to face Sealsdramon, this time with a notable limp. He roared in challenge and began another charge. Sealsdramon accepted the challenge and once again rused at the blue dragon. Bue once again reached out a claw at Sealsdramon’s head and the other Digimon once again dropped into a slide. This time, however, Blue’s strike had been a decoy. His powerful tail whipped around and wrapped itself around Sealsdramon’s arm. With mighty wingbeats, Blue the Coredramon lifted off into the sky, carrying the captured Sealsdramon with him. 

Sealsdramon slashed at Blue’s tail, attempting to free itself. It needn’t have bothered though, as the coils of the Coredramon’s tail loosened and the larger Digimon dropped it. Too late, Sealsdramon realized its mistake. It has no ability to maneuver in the air, a prisoner of its own momentum. Here, the Coredramon possessed all the advantages. Sealsdramon threw its knife at the target, but Blue the Coredramon was too fast up here. Before the assassin could draw a new knife, Blue had flown directly above it. 

“Blue Flare Breath!” Another jet of blue flame burst forth from Blue’s jaws, aimed directly downward at Sealsdramon. The enemy Digimon, unable to dodge, could only cross its arms in front of it to try to deflect the flame, but this was in vain. The Blue Flare Breath impacted Sealsdramon, slamming it to the ground in a pillar of blue fire. Sealsdramon twitched a few times, then fell still. In less than a second, it died, dissolving into the raw data from which all Digimon are born. 

Blue was barely able to reach the ground before he de-Digivolved back into Dracomon and fell on the ground in a heap. Daniel ran over to his partner.

“Blue! Are you ok?

Blue opened an eye to see Daniel holding him. “Hey, Danny. I did it.” he said weakly

“Yeah, buddy. Yeah you did,” responded Blue’s human, with a worried voice.

Clark, Keiko, and Tsukaimon hurried over to the pair. “We have to go, it’s not safe here,” said Clark. “You did a great job, but you’ll need to rest on the go. They know we’re here now.”

“Who is? What’s going on?” Demanded Tsukaimon as Daniel scooped his partner into his arms. 

“I’ll fill you in on the way,” was the response. “We need to go before they find us again.”

With that, the older boy turned and walked into the forest. After exchanging a look, Daniel, Keiko, and Tsukaimon followed him into the unknown. 

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

Trainwreck (OC fiction) - Part 1

This is just a little something-something that i wrote for myself. It's not finished yet (even though I started drafting this idea in 2018) but I have fun getting back to writing more again, and so this work is finally born.

It's not a fanfic, feel free to ignore if it's not your thing.

Boy x Girl, not mature in anyway, an ode to falling in love, however briefly, with strangers

4.5k words

MASTERLIST

>>> Part 2

(If you need a little push imagination-wise, here's what I pictured the boy to look like)

As far as her memory went, Jo couldn’t recall the last time she’d had such an awful day. It started off with a nice, good nosebleed at seven in the morning, followed by the light bulb frying off when she tried to turn on her lamp to grab a tissue and stop the bleeding. After changing the bedsheets and putting the bloody ones in the washer, she was running late. She ripped her favorite tights when she hastily put them on, and she had to go for a pair of jeans instead of the skirt she planned to wear.

Eventually, when her rough beginning of the day was over – or so she thought – she walked to the train station, only to find out that her train was twenty minutes late. Not that delayed trains were a rare thing, but today really got its place in Jo’s top five worst days when it started pouring rain, drenching her to the bones before she even had a chance to pull her umbrella out of her bag. And truthfully, at this point, was it even worth it to open it? She was late, wet, cold, and couldn’t imagine there was anything in the world that could salvage today.

            She sighed, and still pulled out the umbrella. How stupid would she look if she’d just stood in the pouring rain, umbrella closed in her hand?

            Now there she was, standing stiffly along the rails, waiting in a late-November rainstorm, pondering the pros and cons of jumping in front of the train. A girl can only endure so much. Jo was no exception, which was why she stood there, lips pursed and face adorned with her award-winning resting bitch face to keep away any potential old lady who’d want to chat her up about how it’s a shame that trains are always late.

            In the rush, she didn’t grab her gloves and when she noticed the tip of her fingers turning blue, she painstakingly wiggled one into the small pocket of her jeans – the other one was holding the umbrella, unfortunately. It didn’t do any good, causing her to grumble to herself, wondering if today’s classes were worth so much trouble or if she should just head back to her apartment and not leave the coziness of her feather duvet until the end of the week. It was only Tuesday and already Jo couldn’t wait for the much-needed week-end to finally start.

            In order to keep herself busy for the next fifteen minutes, she put on her earphones and some blasted the loudest, most angry music she had downloaded on her Spotify, something that reflected accurately her current mood – and once again, she cursed silently the world. She really wished she had chosen to take her car today – parking was always a hassle but by God, she would give anything to be sitting her dry, warm car, mindlessly singing along to the lyrics. She obviously couldn’t do that here, there were other persons around her waiting for their train, and she wasn’t a nut job.

            After what seemed like an eternity, the train arrived in the station, and when the engine finally arrived to a stop, a few feet away from where she stood, shaking from head to toe from the biting wind, she could have cried.

Suddenly, everybody rushed towards the opening doors, eager to escape from the downpour and find shelter in the train. In the mayhem, somebody bumped into Jo’s shoulder, causing her bag to drop down into her elbow and making her let go of her umbrella.

            A gasp of surprise and yet another groan fell from her lips as she quickly put her bag back on her shoulder and knelt down to pick up her umbrella and close it so she could enter the train. Jo looked up to see who the culprit was, ready to lash out because today of all days wasn’t a good time to not apologize to her. She froze dead in her tracks.

A single glance at the boy standing before her eyes made her swallow back whatever she was going to say – and almost stumble back and trip on her own feet. His blue grayish stare took her aback, and he mouthed a swift ‘sorry’ along with an apologetic look – but was truly caught her attention was the fact that he only had one eye fully open. Before she could take her rudeness further, the familiar whistle signaling the doors closing was heard. He turned around to go take a seat, and the spell was broken.

            Still a bit unnerved by the peculiarity of this boy’s captivating single eye, Jo mindlessly made her way down the alley and sat down as far away from other people as possible, shrugging off her coat and carefully putting her dripping umbrella on the floor. After shoving her scarf in her bag, she took out a book and started digging to search for her glasses aggressively pushing stuff out of her way, but finding nothing.

“You gotta be fucking kiddin’ me!” she whisper-shouted to herself. The only thing that could have made this day worse just happened. Her hands flew up in defeat and she leaned back, seriously considering jumping off the bandwagon. Short of finding a five hundred dollars bill on the floor, this day was definitely ruined.

She opened her book regardless, determined to get a few pages in, even though it would be particularly tiring to read without her glasses. Jo furiously flipped the pages until she reached her bookmark, letting out all of her frustration on that poor book. Aside from her issues seeing the words on the pages, Jo’s reading was greatly disrupted by the fact that her mind kept drifting back to this guy’s unearthly eye color – and she couldn’t help being intrigued by his other eye, the one that didn’t open all the way up.

She felt uneasy and somewhat ashamed that it was so big of a deal for her – as if she should have noticed him for something else, anything else than his ill eye. This whole ‘one eye’ thing had her brain upside down and she wondered whether or not it was normal to be this interested in some stranger’s condition. Maybe ‘normal’ wasn’t the right word, but it was human. Most people would probably look away as quickly as they could, as if voiding eye contact would prevent contagion as if it was actually contagious. Then, they’d pass it off as politeness. It’s rude to stare.

Well, it is. But at least she didn’t pretend she didn’t see it. It’s right there, in the middle of his face. Wouldn’t it be worse to ignore it? Was she overthinking this?

            He must receive so many indiscreet stares… Jo felt a surge of embarrassment heat up her face when she realized how she had looked at him when their eyes met. A sudden urge to smash her face in the seat before her overwhelmed her. On the other hand, she wasn’t expecting that, so it was understandable to be surprised, right? Anyway, now that the unfortunate meeting was history, she could let her mind wander a bit, that wouldn’t hurt no one.

            What happened to him? A disease? A physical trauma? Just some dust in his eye? Did he still see with that eye? She’ll most definitely never get answers to her questions, but she couldn’t help but wonder. She was a curious one, and sometimes she overstepped her boundaries when she really wanted to know something – although in this case, she might think twice about it, because speaking to attractive boys wasn’t exactly her forte.

            This reminded her of sixth grade when she had a crush on this boy, Adrian, because he had this accident in PE and ended up having an arm-brace for a few months. Later on, when Jo mentioned this childhood crush to her friends – because once you are over twenty, sixth grade is labeled as childhood – they teased her about it, saying that she was the ‘mom’ kind of girlfriend. The type of girls that only go for guys who could potentially need them, as if tending to their wounds – physical or emotional – would make them win their affection.

            This really is a thing. At the time, Jo laughed it off with her friends before changing the subject, but when she came home, she took the time to cogitate a bit, and she realized just how accurate her friends were. But going after the broken ones wasn’t a sport, and Jo couldn’t help how she felt, and for lack of a better word she was drawn to vulnerable people.

            Before taking her reflection too far down that slippery slope, she shook her head to chase away those parasite thoughts. She abruptly closed her book single handedly with a loud thud, causing the few people sharing the wagon to look up from whatever they were doing to seek out the source of the disturbance. The sudden attention brought to her made her face heat up and she knew she was red as a ripe cherry.

In an attempt to escape those prying eyes judging her for troubling the religious silence reigning in the wagon, Jo desperately searched for some place she could set her eyes on. Finally, her face cooled down and she relaxed in her seat, wondering what she'd do in class today without her glasses. But once again her train of thoughts was interrupted by the feeling of somebody looking at her.

Everybody knows the unsettling feeling of having a stare so intense directed to you that you could physically sense it, as tangible as the touch of a hand against one's cheek. Darting her gaze around to find the source of the disturbance, Jo frowned her brows, wondering if maybe someone she knew was on board and recognized her. But she didn't recall seeing any familiar faces when she waited at the train station. Eventually, she found what she was looking for. Once again, her cheeks flushed a bright pink and it was suddenly extremely hot in here, especially when the boy from before stared a hole through her head - Jo couldn't fathom how intense his gaze would be if both his eyes were fully open.

For a good five seconds, their eyes were locked and the girl wondered what would be more awkward: looking away with the blush obvious on her cheeks or supporting his stare, at the risk of freaking him out. In the end she decided it was safer to look away because she didn't trust herself to uphold his gaze any longer.

When she looked down to her lap, a wave of regret washed over her - what if he thought she looked at him because of his eye? Of course, it was the truth in a way, although there was much more to him than his sight issues. Indeed the 'boy' must be around her age, maybe a little older but not by much. His valid eye was a light shade of ice blue, piercing with intensity and he seemed not at all bothered by his other eye. His dirty blond hair was stylishly put back and tamed in a way that Jo couldn't even dream to achieve with her own long, inconvenient hair. He had one of these noses which you want to boop and had a nice curved slope. His lips were full and sharp and gave his face a slight femininity that suited him and graced him with a certain fragile charm. He harbored the same uniqueness and delicacy as snowflakes, without losing any of his male beauty.

If she hadn't already drawn enough attention to her, Jo would have face palmed herself for looking away. She felt as though she had missed her chance with this guy even though there was nothing there to begin with, and she certainly had no intention of hitting on him.

She didn’t.

He managed to intrigue her, beyond the physical peculiarity there was something edgy and elusive about him. He was sitting rather far away from where she was but he was just in her line of sight. When she dared to peek between the seats in front of her to see him again, he was staring out the window. He couldn't see her at all because she was on the side of his bad eye. It allowed her to take a better look - although blurry because of the absence of glasses on her nose - at the droopy eye. It wasn't completely closed, it was more like he couldn't open it and it remained oddly narrowed, resulting in a lazy stare. The contrast with his other eye was mainly due to his eye color though, and Jo wished he would look her way again. This made her shake her head again because what in God's name would make her want to confront his stare again? First of all, she would probably look away as she did before and then-

He was simply too handsome for her own good. At this point, she figured she maybe should’ve thanked him for bumping into her. He looked so put-together, so clean and sleek – not at all like someone who had braved the rain to catch a train-ride. This only reminded her that she, in fact, did not possess such grace, and currently looked like a drowned dog. Felt like it, too.

She was one to go weak in the knees when she had to talk to an attractive person and ended up stuttering out some idiotic sentence which would later feed on her esprit de l'escalier. This guy though, had a magnetic effect on her, despite the fear of being caught red-handed eying him - for the second time! Suddenly his eye left the landscape to focus back on the inside of the train, apparently with the intention of finding her eyes because he locked his gaze right with hers. This time the awkwardness was gone. The unease was replaced by a sort of calm curiosity from both parts - they were studying each other. Jo was overwhelmed with the strange impression that the outcome of this staring contest had a lot more at stake than what it seemed. Her heart missed a beat when the corner of his mouth curved up a little. He was smirking at her, and before her brain had the time to process what was happening, she felt her own lips curl into a faint smile, returning the silent address.

And in that exact moment, she realized just how screwed she was, because she knew this strange boy was the new object of her wavering affection, and hopefully, she’d get over this instant crush by the end of the day.

How fucking wrong she was.

*

            The following week was even more stressful than the last one, though this time she arrived ten minutes early – just in case, not at all because she hoped to see the guy again. Jo stomped as if angry at the whole world and paced around the platform like a caged lion. At some point she had to stop because this old lady was giving her a judgmental look while clutching at her small flower pattern tote bag, as if she thought Jo was some kind of drug addict who needed her fix and was about to jump to her throat, teeth out, foam dripping down her chin.

            All this because she couldn’t stay still. The girl huffed and stopped walking. Before pulling her tights up, she made sure no one was looking her way, and she also quickly checked her hair in the nearest window. Her makeup hardly hid the dark circles adorning her face, but she did as well as she could. Her hair kept flying in her face because of the wind and she constantly had to pull it back with one hand, while the other one was on the hem of her dress to keep it down and make sure it wouldn’t go all Marilyn Monroe on her. After five minutes of this game, Jo groaned and forcefully closed her coat, crossing her arms over her chest and blowing air upwards to chase her hair out of her face. A small laughter erupted from behind her.

            She spun on her heels to see who was making fun of her distress and immediately felt her face fire up again. Of course, it was him. But how long had he been? How long had he watched her struggle with her hair and outfit? Jo was overwhelmed with the urge to dig a hole and crawl in it to die. Well… at least it didn’t rain this time.

“What are you laughing at?” she snapped, mentally scolding herself for being rude, although it wasn’t very nice of him to mock her either. The first wave of guilt vanished pretty quickly and the girl applauded herself for not just blushing and looking away like a schoolgirl. It was his fault; he shouldn’t have laughed.

“Comfort being sacrificed on the altar of beauty,” he stated enigmatically, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Jo’s mouth fell agape, and he looked proud to have her at loss for words, yet when she processed what he told her and finally went to answer him, he suddenly strode away, as if shying away from the conversation.

            The underlying compliment in his sentence had her confused and a tab bit flustered, but she inwardly slapped herself to regain her senses and do something. God, he said something to her – he didn’t have to but he did – she couldn’t just let the conversation stop there. Even though she wasn’t sure this exchange deserved to be called a conversation.

            When she was about to follow him and speak up again, she was interrupted by the honk of the train. After that the small gathering of people waiting there started moving towards the deck, waiting for the complete stop of the engine. Her timing was so bad Jo actually considered having offended whatever superior power there was, because this much bad luck couldn’t be natural, or coincidental. She went with the flow and followed the other people inside, a bit disappointed that she lost sight of him so quickly.

            However, as soon as she got inside, she spotted the boy and pondered the pros and cons of making a bold move like sitting next to him, despite of the many, many empty seats around him. If she thought about it too long, she’d back down. Before changing her mind, she bee-lined towards him, almost tripping over some rogue luggage on her way down the alley, but quickly reaching the empty seat.

When she arrived, there was his bag on it.

“May I?” Jo asked, her voice unsure but at least not stuttering. He looked up, startled but trying not to be rude and automatically nodding his head, but not giving any sign of removing the bag from the seat. “-unless you want to be alone?” she asked, her eyes switching between him and the seat.

            She would have sworn he blushed, but he took the bag and turned to the window before she could see for good. Jo sat down, a bit too slowly not to make it awkward, but it was so obvious that he agreed just because she took him aback that she hesitated a second. If he kept acting like this, the next thirty minutes were going to be incredibly uncomfortable. For the first five minutes, it felt to her that he was doing everything he could to avoid eye contact. It was stupid though, wasn’t it? They already had made eye contact earlier, and last week.

“What’s your name?” she blurted out, ignoring all and any social conventions. Maybe she should have opened up with her own name first. Too late for that now though – God, she should not be allowed out in public.

            The stranger turned to face her, once again speechless as he stared at her – probably regretting letting a weird girl who kept staring at him sit with him. His valid eye was wide open as the other remained half closed, barely opened and still. There was surprise painted all over his graciously flawed face and his lips fell open as he continued to soak up the details of her face.

Jo had dark brown eyes, one of those straight and pointy noses with a beauty spot on the bridge of her nose and a mouth that was made to smile. Her hair was a mess still, but she was a pretty girl, in a wild sort of way.

“You know, if I didn’t hear you speak before, I’d think you’re mute,” she suddenly told him, raising an amused eyebrow. This had the effect of relaxing him slightly, and when she saw the tension leave his jaw, she smiled.

“Sorry,” he felt the need to apologize. This one word sent shivers down her spine. That voice.

“I’m Joyce. Jo for short.” Her smile widened even more and he didn’t know what to do.

“Roman,” he managed to voice, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You’re the girl from last week?”

Jo invoked all of her self-control not to blush. “That would be me.” She nodded, not looking down in her lap now. At least that was out of the way, she thought.

This was about as awkward as it could get, and the tension between them was so thick Jo actually considered taking out a knife – not that she carried one with her – and cut through it. She knew he was aware of it too, but neither of them knew what to do about it. Last week’s playful smirk he shot her was a much better start than this conversation which led them nowhere. Although, Jo suspected she knew where the unusual awkwardness came from. She was more than capable of making friends with ease, so there had to be more to it than just a bit of shyness. It had to be his eye. Was he self-conscious?

Within a second, she had made her decision, and before giving it a second thought, she blurted out, “Ptosis of the eyelid[1], right?”

“Excuse me?” he asked, his eye almost popping out. If he wasn’t sitting at the window, she was sure he’d run away as fast as light speed.

“I figured I might as well talk about the elephant in the room. It would be even ruder of me to pretend I don’t notice, wouldn’t it?” she reasoned, progressively making his confused and shocked frown disappear. “And just to make it clear, I’m not sitting here out of morbid curiosity.”

“Then why?” he replied, giving her a suspicious look.

            Because you’re handsome, and you smirked while looking at me, and I have knots in my stomach right now because of how nervous I am.

“Do I need a reason?” she said.

“If I say yes, would you tell me the truth?” he answered her question with another one. His brows shot up, causing a wrinkle to draw on his forehead. She nodded. “Then yes.”

“I think you’re attractive.” There, she said it. Dammit. If she ever told her friends about this, they’d all squeal so high-pitched she’d go deaf instantly. Jo wasn’t known to be so bold.

            The stranger’s face suddenly flushed red and he blinked and turned to the window to avoid her gaze before saying, “Well, that was straightforward. But I asked for honesty so I’m not complaining.”

“You look surprised,” she stated. It sort of felt like she was in control of the conversation at this point, and she enjoyed the feeling. His eye went back to her, and this time he was smiling too – though it was discrete.

“It’s not every day that a pretty girl hits on me so boldly,” he simply answered. But it was the second time today that he complimented her indirectly, and this time she wasn’t going to let it go away. For some odd reason, she was drawn to him in a way she had never experienced before. He was there, at arm length and she wanted to reach out and touch him – and only her common sense prevented her from doing so.

            Putting her bag under her seat, Jo brought her left leg up and over her right, putting herself more at ease. This particular show of relaxation gave Roman confidence and he ditched the landscape to focus back on her, with a boyish grin plastered on his pale face, his one opened blue eye piercing right through her.

“You could have spoken to me last week. You don’t strike me as a shy person,” he said. “After all, you did come today.” He also crossed his legs, placing his left ankle on his right knee, and fiddling with his shoe laces.

“Oh no, last week I couldn’t. Even today, I always didn’t. I’m not used to this, what I figured, what did I have to lose?” The girl shrugged, telling him the truth. He was slowly warming up at her and this was a good thing if they intended to flirt during the whole ride.

“What indeed,” he said distractedly, slightly biting on his lower lip. Jo saw his Adam’s apple go up and down as he swallowed nervously.

“My ego might have been a little wounded if you told me to sit somewhere else, and I probably wouldn't have approached a guy again for the next fifteen years of my life,” she dramatized and made a funny face to make him laugh. “But aside from that, I thought it was worth a shot.”

“I am honored that you deemed my company worth the risk,” he joked, playing along. “If you don’t mind me asking, why exactly, couldn’t you speak to me last week?”

            Jo sighed a long sigh.

“I was on a massive streak of bad luck last week. If I’d so much as tried to walk past your seat, the train would have abruptly pulled the brakes, and I’d have fallen right into your lap or something ridiculous like that.”

            Now Roman laughed a little louder, visibly not having expected this explanation. He threw his head back a little, and Jo’s chest flare up with pride at having made him laugh.

“I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t that,” he eventually said. “Did you rehearse this conversation beforehand? I feel… sort of- unprepared compared to you.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, you’re doing great,” she reassured him, going as far as gently bumping her shoulder against his.

            She regretted it almost right away, wondering if she was going too far with this virtual stranger. They met minutes ago and she was already cozying up to him, maybe he would find it weird.

            He didn’t seem to mind, though.

“So-“ he began. “Tell me, where are you going every Tuesday with the 9a.m. train?”

[1] Disease that causes the eyelids to drop (one of them or both), making it difficult or impossible to open the eye completely.

[chaoticcatmoon]

Happy Tears

Hi everyone! It’s been a really long time since I posted.

Here is what has happened. My last post I actually drafted in fear. I was paranoid someone in my family would find it. Firstly in that post I talked about how rough the distance was with my relationship. Us being long distance was rough. We were cherishing our times together when we could travel back and fourth, but not long after I typed that up we started to realize it wasn’t going to be financially viable for us to keep going. I broke it off. I started dating someone new, who was local, that my family approved of.

I was trapped in this sort of weird mental space. I felt like I HAD to garner the approval of my family in all of my actions or they would abandon me and I’d have no one. I was terrified. I started going back to church and pulling away from the craft that had drawn me in and given me the comfort I sought so desperately because I just wanted to please them.

I was renting a space from a family member who would just let themselves in whenever they wanted. No notice, home or not it didn’t matter. They were going through my belongings and throwing away anything that looked ‘witchy.’ My family is VERY Christian. I actually have over the last year completely denounced my religious beliefs. I am now an atheist, but I am open to the powers of nature and the energy the earth provides through witchcraft. So I suppose in some aspects I’m sort of agnostic. I’m still exploring really.

In that space I was trying to hide things to continue practicing when I could, but even my jar candles from stores were being thrown away and suddenly I wasn’t allowed to burn candles anymore. It was so toxic I reached a really dark place. My relationship was extremely unhealthy and he made me feel like I wasn’t myself anymore. Forcing me into this culty religious routine that sucked all of my self out.

Then July came and everything changed. I’d saved up to go on vacation by myself to just escape everything. Being completely alone on a vacation was something I’d never done, but I reached this really hopeless place of just wanting to be alone. It wasn’t a happy freeing alone it was a sad dark alone. I went to a nice hotel, with a spa in a very large city. I even had a thought that maybe that would be the end for me. I don’t feel comfortable divulging much because again, there is always a paranoia that someone in my family will follow the trail of bread crumbs if they find this somehow and put two and two together.

While I was there though it was like everything in the universe aligned for me. There is no way it was a coincidence it was strictly a sign. He was there. I’d told no one I was going to be there. Not a soul. It wasn’t near where he was, but he was there on vacation. It was like everything fell into place. I missed him so much and I didn’t realize the freedom I felt whenever we were together. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it until that very moment. The space helped me realize how much I could do this on my own. How much I needed to just cut the ties from my toxic family and boldly go out on my own. 

So in November I found an apartment, signed a lease and I packed everything I could. I woke up early one morning, rented a small Uhaul with a tow for my car, put everything I could possibly stuff inside of it and just drove until I reached my destination. I got on my own phone plan and changed my number. There are a few family members who I still have on social media, but I don’t post anymore. I just have them because they are ones who escaped like myself or I didn’t have bad blood with. I keep them to keep an eye on what is happening within the family. We’re in the same city now. I wanted my own space to start, a space that TRULY is mine. No one can come in without my say. No family can just walk in and throw my belongings away. I can decorate how I want, I can leave whatever I want out without having to be secretive and I can dress how I want.

We are not officially back together, but we are trying to take things slow. We both very much want to be in a relationship, but I have a lot of healing I need to do on my own and he understands and respects that. I want to feel the independence I need to feel and I am finally able to do that.

Just thinking and talking about it here has caused me to cry with relief a few times.

I’ll be posting back here again as I get back into my craft now that I am settled into my space and feeling a happy, free comfort again.

[damnedparker]

some reassurance

pairing: adrian chase/vigilante x reader (gender neutral, no y/n) warnings: reader is sensitive to ppl yelling, some insecurities. getting fired. hurt/comfort. i really think that's it! summary: adrian comforts you after you get fired by your asshole boss.

this was half-written in my drafts so i figured i'd finish it out in between all my deadlines,, it's short but who doesn't enjoy a little adrian comfort??? ((snow days part 2 is coming eventually i promise!! just gimme time pls <3))

You never really thought you’d be taking a walk of shame at two in the afternoon. Well, some kind of walk of shame— one far worse than what most people would consider. You would prefer a night of sex over being absolutely berated, personally insulted, and fired by your boss. In a most certainly not soundproof office.

It wasn’t until you finally made it to your apartment that you felt the burning tears start to come fast and hard. Your hands shook as you tried and failed multiple times to get the key into the lock. A frustrated noise left your mouth and you kicked the door, one, two, three times, as if it was its fault that you couldn’t simply just unlock it. You went for a fourth but your foot met nothing but air, and you were suddenly on the floor. Your boyfriend looked down at you with a concerned expression.

“What’d the door do to you?” He asked. It was a genuine question at this point, as he had no idea why you were home this early, or why you had attempted to kick the door down. You just looked up at him for a moment, taking in the comfort of the one person who seemed to be nice to you. Adrian Chase. Curls a mess over his head, still in boxers and a shirt that had once been yours but now belonged to both of you, much like how the apartment he lived in had become your home. He had clearly just woken up, eyes still bleary and a slight stumble in his step, glasses slightly askew on his nose. His face alone was such a familiar sight, comfort all wrapped up in your favorite person, that the change in environment from one of everything stressful and demeaning to safety and home, everything came crashing down around you. The insults, the yelling, the avoidant glances of your coworkers, the walk home in the freezing cold, all of it. Tears stung your eyes and flooded your cheeks. A sob escaped your mouth.

Adrian dropped to his knees next to you immediately, concern flooding his features. He did not know what the fuck was going on, why his favorite person ever was upset, on the floor, and in tears. Panic iced his veins cold as he helped you sit up.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Where are you hurt? Tell me, if you’re bleeding we need to stop it. Do we need to go to a hospital? Who hurt you because I swear—“

“I’m not hurt.” You managed, voice watery. Adrian frowned, taking your face in his hands.

“That’s not true, your feelings must be if you’re crying. I hate seeing you cry,” he mumbled. The laminate floor was bruising underneath your knees, and your legs began to tremble trying to hold yourself up for even this long. Your nerves seemed to fry at the emotional distress burning at you. “Why’re you crying?”

“I got fired.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious,” you sniffled. His hands slipped away from your face as you basically fell forward into his chest. You moved your arms around his shoulders. Adrian pulled you into a tight hug, carefully lifting you as he slowly got to his feet with you still clinging to him. He walked the two of you to your bedroom and sat you on the bed as gently as possible. You sniffled to yourself as you slowly came down from the tears, while your boyfriend dressed you down and back up into some pajamas. A shirt of his, your softest shorts. It smelled strongly of detergent— it had been Adrian's turn to do the laundry this week, and he always overloaded his loads with it. Something you'd scolded him for when the two of you first started living together, but it soon became a comfort whenever a patrol or mission left your bed empty. Whenever you were at work, dealing with people who never seemed to like you. You had a reminder of someone who liked you more than anything else in the world. A place where you belonged.

The mattress dipped next to you as he took a seat, his arms coming back around your waist to pull you close to him. He rested his chin on your shoulder, right on top of where he'd placed a kiss just before.

“What’s your boss’s name again? Trevor or some shit?”

“Trey,” you paused as you considered why he was asking. “Adrian, you don’t need to kill him.”

“Yeah, but I want to,” he grumbled. “There’s not a thing you can do wrong, like ever. No way this was justifiable. That motherfucker has it coming, making you cry." His arms tightened protectively around you. You were silent, not able to push words over the lump in your throat, past the sniffling and the trembling of your hands. In the back of your head, you knew this was a valid reaction to losing your job— even one that you hated. But what was louder was the berating thoughts of you being so damn sensitive, fucking crybaby, stop crying. It just made your stomach turn even further. You squirmed in Adrian’s hold, just wanting to crawl out of your body and stop existing for a while. He was still murmuring bitter words about how you never deserved to be fired— as far as he was concerned, you could never do any wrong, certainly not anything that caused you to be berated so badly you had come home crying. And while the sentiment was so sweet, absurdly kind as Adrian always was to you, you couldn’t help the sinking feeling that sent you spiraling; of course this would happen, why wouldn’t it? When have I ever done anything that deserved something good sticking around?

“Maybe I deserved it,” it was barely a mumble. Under your breath, mostly to yourself. Your boyfriend was still talking a mile a minute, but it all halted when he picked up your comment.

“Hey, no fucking way, tater tot, there’s no way you could ever deserve to be treated so badly that it’s made you this upset,” he squeezed your hip in reassurance. “You’re, like, the greatest human being ever invented. And Trevor—“

“Trey—“

“Whatever the fuck his stupid name is, has already been an asshole to you in the past. No way you deserve this, even if you dumped a shitload of piranhas on him. He’s the one who deserves to cry, he lost the best employee ever.”

“Adrian, I jammed the printer for like the sixth fucking time— I’m an idiot, it was only a matter of time—“

“What?” He reeled back from you in surprise, eyes wide but eyebrows furrowed in that specific Adrian expression that was just so him. He frowned. “Don’t say that about my favorite person.” You let out a wet, sad laugh at his comment. He pressed further, hand fumbling around the bed until it found yours. “I’m serious. You’re so smart— you made it all the way through college, you always know exactly how to fix my laptop whenever it breaks, and you always solve the Wordle ten times faster than I do. Fuck a stupid printer. I bet it was one of those old outdated ones that you can photocopy your butt on still. You are anything but an idiot. You are— fuck, you’re amazing and super hot, and smart and beautiful. You’re the total package, babe, anyone who treats you like anything less than fucking royalty is a little fuckweed dirt-brain. End of story.” He emphasized his point with roughly a dozen little kisses to the side of your face, and all you could do was sit there and absorb the rant he went on. Sure, Adrian complimented you non-stop and was always rambling, but after the whirlwind of a shitty day you were having, some direct reassurance was exactly what you needed. It pierced your heart like an arrow, directly in the middle, splitting it open and letting your feelings spread through all your insides until you filled with unbelievable warmth. Tears crawled up your sinuses yet again— this time for good reasons. You couldn’t help it when they overflowed out in the open, and you were left crying yet again in Adrian’s arms. He perked up next to you, and you could almost see the exclamation mark next to his head like a video game character being alerted of some danger. “Hey, what’d I do? What’s wrong? I’m sorry—“

“No, it’s—“ you wiped frantically at your face and finally met his eyes again. He looked back, overloaded with concern. “You’re so— I just really— I really needed to hear that is all.” You leaned forward to peck his lips, feeling them stretch into a proud smile. He turned fully sideways to face you now, a foot trailing over your calf until he hooked his ankle over yours to tangle you in him. He pressed another kiss to your temple. His nose trailed down your face, past your cheek and your jaw to bury in the space between your neck and shoulder. Tingles wormed their way up your spine and you let yourself relax into the soft buzz of affection.

“Are you sure I can’t kill him? I’m sure he’s done something illegal,” he asked again in your ear. You huffed.

“I’m sure.” You let out a chuckle when he whined dramatically and pressed his entire weight into you, effectively smushing you to lie down on the mattress with him on top. He pulled your tangled legs onto the bed and shifted behind you, arms never leaving their place around you. His breath was warm against your neck as he snuggled against you.

“What if I just beat him up? Scare him a little?” You were quiet for a moment as you considered it, ignoring the fact that maybe you weren’t such a great person for the feeling of satisfaction that settled over you at the thought of your former boss with a broken nose. “Pleeeease?”

“I wouldn’t be mad if I heard Vigilante roughed him up a little,” you finally relented. Maybe it was immoral, sure, but come on. You’re just a person, a person in love with a man who finds pleasure in murdering people who break the law. Who were you to deny the fact that maybe you were a little bit fucked up, too?

“Yesss,” his hands briefly left their hold at your waist as he punched the air in victory. “You’re the best, my beautiful, honey butter biscuit angel.” He pressed another kiss to your neck, your shoulder. “Smartest, most badass, most fucking amazing human being ever created in this universe. And you’re all mine.”

[countessmorgasson]

Split 

Angsty Lucio x Asra x MC! Asra’s confession stirs up some drama..

Gender Neutral MC

(Based off both Asra’s and Lucio’s routes. Major spoilers, I wouldn’t read this if you don’t know the big twist)

~Clearing up the ol’ draft box~

It feels like the world just fell apart, all around you. 

Your heart’s pounding like crazy and as your chest tightens you’re finding it harder to breathe. Your eyes burn with tears no matter how hard you blink them back.

You’re standing in the middle of the garden down at the palace. You don’t hear the rush of the water pouring down the fountains, and you can’t really feel the cold air nipping at your skin. Your head’s pounding too hard for you to make sense of anything. Eventually you’re able to fight the feeling settling in your stomach, only to choke out a few words.

“...What did you say?”

Across from you is Asra, who’s got a hand placed over his heart as if he were in pain. 

“I said that I love you.”

Their words are like glass, and they shatter all around you, cutting you deep. Your stomach twists as you try to process what you’re hearing. Asra steps forward, but winces when you step backwards in response. 

“I-I’m... I don’t... What are you doing?” You sputter nonsense. The words are just spilling out of you now. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Asra’s eyes fall to the ground in shame. 

“Because... you know about your death now.” He swallows hard, but you can’t wipe the shock from your face- despite feeling guilty. They go on. “You’ve always wanted the truth, and now I’m giving it to you.”

Your eyes well up with tears, but the worst feeling is yet to come.

You hear footsteps behind you- and you just know who it is, but Asra’s still talking. You know he doesn’t care...

“I made a deal to bring you back.”

What are you supposed to say? 

Your silence doesn’t seem to matter. Now Asra’s eyes are shooting daggers behind you. You’ve never seen that look on their face before, but a dreadful thought in the back of your mind suggests you have no right to be surprised. After all, there’s so much you’re starting to realize...

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” Lucio’s voice is thrown into the mix, prompting you to turn and face him. He stands tall with his arms folded, but he somehow looks... calm. How much did he hear?  You’re suddenly a bystander to the conversation as he and Asra stand right across each other. Asra crosses his arms, and just like that the walls are back up again. Lucio continues. 

“You’re the reason I was a ghost all that time.”  He sounds calm, but you know Lucio’s tone of voice all too well at this point.  He’s raging, but something tells you that wasn’t the confession that set him off.

“If I hadn’t done something, m/c would still be dead.”

Lucio’s eyes flicker towards you, and something like sadness crosses his face for a split second. 

“That isn’t--I’m not saying--” He can’t even finish his sentence because Asra’s turned to you and his gaze is soft.

“I’ll never force you to choose me,” Asra promises. “But I can’t hold back anymore. I ruined Lucio’s ritual, yeah. I traded my heart to bring you back to life and it was worth every piece.”

His eyes begin to water. Lucio’s nearly open-mouthed, listening in horror.

“I’m in love with you. I always have been.”

And you’re back to square one, fighting the lump in your throat as you think back to your earliest memories.

So not only was he the one to nurse you back to health, but he’s the reason you’re even alive in the first place. It was always Asra, at your side when you were at your worst. Your stomach begins to ache. 

“What are you doing?” Lucio sputters out. His voice went up an octave. “You-you can’t just...” He swallows hard, and when he meets your eyes you notice a familiar glimpse of fear in his expression.

“You deserve to know--before you jump into something you’re not ready for.” Asra’s eyes flicker towards Lucio. 

“No!” Lucio’s starting to panic. “That’s not fair. I wouldn’t hurt you, m/c. Asra’s full of it. He can’t bear to see me happy and I’ve never felt happier than when I’m with you.”

“Oh my gods, it’s not about you, can’t you see that?” Asra exclaims. “It’s about m/c.”

“You had three years with m/c and you did nothing. You left them in the dark until I came around!”

You can see that struck a nerve with Asra. He swallows hard.

“Stop!” You finally exclaim. You hold your hands out and dig your feet into the ground. “I can’t bear to watch you two fight.”

Honestly, you’re still coping with the fact that you had even died in the first place. It doesn’t seem like anybody’s going to talk about that at all.  You look between Asra and Lucio. 

Looking at Asra, you think about all the time you spent wishing for a moment just like this--hearing them say those words aloud to you. You had loved him at one point, and maybe you still do. But then you think of every time he left you at the shop for weeks on end, claiming that you weren’t ready to go with them. You think about the way you used to look into each other’s eyes, and the soft hand touches or how you’d run your fingers through his hair.  But now you think about what he kept from you all those years. Was Lucio right? Was Asra only telling you because you’ve been spending time with someone else?

And then you look at Lucio. In the short time you’ve known this man your life’s been a whirlwind. You’ve been horrified to learn some of the things he’s done. He’s short-tempered, selfish and arrogant. But... he’s stuck with you since you’ve met him. Your only memories of him are kind ones, and he makes you feel like your future could be more than... more than just working at the shop and practicing tarot. Maybe you’ve doubted him before, but at least he’s never made you feel alone. Maybe Asra’s right, and you’re jumping into something too soon with Lucio.

They both turn to you, and you suddenly can’t stop the tears from burning your eyes again. Asra’s pinching the bridge of his nose, and the anger starts to fade from Lucio’s expression. 

And just like that, the world seems to spin again. You’re freezing because the wind seems to cut through your clothes, and the water fountain starts to roar behind you. 

It looks like you’ll have to make a choice.

[starlessea]

"Don’t Cry”

A/N This started off as a drabble, but I got carried away and it turned into a one-shot. I’m really happy with how this one turned out! Based on number #39 from this prompt list for @phoenixblack89​

Summary: Daryl hates seeing your tears. He’d much rather see you smiling, instead.

Masterlist

Buy Me A Coffee

Atlanta High School.

You’d graduated a long while back — so long ago now that you’d forgotten the feeling of walking its halls, and having your shoes squeak against the cheap wooden planks.

You could see the rows of lockers you’d chatted by daily, and the one in particular where you’d shared your first kiss with a boy whose name you couldn’t remember. The doors of the classrooms seemed familiar, as did the posters on the walls which were the same as they’d been when you attended — something about washing your hands and remembering to vote for class president.

It was as though time stood still.

And, in this very moment, there was nothing you wished for more.

Daryl’s hand was warm on your cheek, and his thumb gentle as he drew faint circles over your skin. You leaned into his touch, the same way you’d done with that boy against your locker — not even a few feet away.

But this was different.

This was Daryl.

Your lips quivered, trembling like a leaf stuck in the wind. Your hands felt numb as they pressed against him, so hard that you thought they would bruise. But all you could hear were those damn lockers — their doors slamming open and closed as they caught in the draft.

Like a sarcastic fucking applause.

Daryl tilted your head up, gently guiding your gaze from his collar to his face, where your eyes caught his. And your breath died in your throat, before bubbling into a sob that rang out in the air like the Atlanta High School bell.

He was smiling.

“Don’t cry,” he said — in the most calm, accepting tone you’d ever heard a person speak. It lacked all of his usual bite, the gruffness you’d come to know and associate with the man.

It sounded foreign.

Maybe that was why, despite his words, the tears poured over anyway, and settled on your cheeks where he swiped them away with a flick of his thumb.

“I wan’-” he started, but paused for a second to grimace from the pain. “I wanna remember ya smilin’.”

You choked on another watery cry, shaking your head away from his gentle hold, as you returned your focus to his wound.

The bite on his collarbone was deep, gushing blood quicker than you could soak it up with the tattered remnants of your jacket. His skin was a stark, vermillion red, as were your hands, as was the floor, as were those fucking lockers where you’d smeared his blood as you tried to carry him to safety.

Everything was red, red, red.

You pressed more firmly, soaking it up with fluttering hands that burnt from the sheer heat of his skin. He felt like a match having been set alight — burning brilliantly beneath your palms as you tried your best to quell the flames.

Daryl rested his hand over yours, engulfing it. “Listen to me, ” he rasped — and you panicked at how much more weak his voice was sounding — “there’s flares in my rucksack.”

He glanced over your shoulder, at the abandoned bag sitting near your feet. It was stuffed with supplies from the school — all of which were now completely useless, and nowhere near worth his goddamn life.

Sweat beaded on his skin, and collected in the dips of his collar — like little pools of salt water.

He squeezed your hand. “Ya gotta get to the roof an’ flag down Rick,” he told you, his smile dropping from his face as he became much more serious. “He’ll come for ya.”

Your hands stilled over the wound for a second, easing their pressure as you took in the man’s words. Then he flashed those eyes at you, which begged for you not to argue.

But you did.

You kicked out your leg behind you, sending that backpack sliding across those cheap wooden planks, and making it thud against a locker. You didn’t need the flares.

You just needed Daryl.

“I can’t-” you yelled, but your voice split, and the man quickly hushed you before it got too loud. After all, the dead had you surrounded. “I’m not leaving you behind,” you spluttered.

Your tone was frantic, panicked, desperate.

You could feel his heartbeat pounding underneath your palms, where you pressed down against it. It was as though you held his heart in your hands — and he’d probably argue that you always had.

Daryl shook his head smally, careful not to disturb the bite further. “An’ ya can’t take me with ya,” he replied.

No, you thought, you would carry him out if it killed you, you would fight your way through, and get him to the infirmary, and you could-

“I ain’t gonna make it, baby girl,” he whispered, “‘m sorry.”

And you broke.

Suddenly, you were aware of the flickering overhead lights that made his skin look so clammy, so sickly. You were conscious of the blood smear trail he’d left behind — that vibrant scarlet which reminded you of a burning sunset — and the pounding at the doors, and the feet squeaking on those floorboards like the lunchtime rush between classes.

“You will!” you yelled, not at all caring about how loud you’d gotten. “You have to, Daryl,” you cried, pleadingly.

His hand felt so warm that it made yours seem cold. It felt like you were the one dying — your heart shattering each time he took a wheezed breath, or flinched in pain.

“How am I-” you asked, but by now your voice had tapered off to a mere whisper. You shook your head. There was no question about it. “I can’t go on without you,” you told him.

You could hear the blood rushing to your ears as your breaths got away from you — too shallow and too sparse. Daryl looked worse each passing minute, his olive skin now a translucent grey.

He took both of your hands in his, making you drop your jacket, as blood seeped through the material of his shirt. You tried to fight against him, eyeing the trail of red as it ran along his collar like a stream, but he kept a hold of your wrists firmly — with the little strength he had left.

“Ya can,” he growled — the grit to his voice causing you to instantly still — “an’ ya will.”

And he flashed those eyes at you again, but this time they had his usual spark behind them.

“Yer the damn strongest woman I e’er met,” he went on, letting his grip loosen on your wrists ever so slightly, “‘m jus’ happy a dumb ol’ redneck like me got to spend a couple good years with ya.”

Then, he smiled.

“It was fun.”

He let your hands drop out of his, no longer having any fight left. But instead, you used them to clamber onto his lap, wrapping them around his torso as you buried your head deep into his chest — his warm, red chest.

“Please don’t talk like that!” you cried, your words muffled by his clothes and lost to his skin.“I’m not going anywhere! I want to stay with you-”

“Nah, that ain’t happenin’,” he snapped — but his hand remained light on your head, gently stroking your hair in his attempts to calm you. “I swear to god, I’ll haunt yer ass if ya dare pull somethin’ tha’ stupid.”

But you grabbed onto his shirt until your knuckles flashed white, bunching up the material in your fists like you couldn’t bear to part with it. It smelt like him — underneath the coppery scent of fresh blood.

Slowly, he tried to coax you out, but you could feel the way his hands shook, and it only made everything worse. Those hands had always been strong — had always been the ones to pick you up and set you back on your feet every time you fell.

“Look a’ me,” he pleaded, his voice croaky. He tilted your chin up again, in the same way he did every time he went to kiss you — and it made your heart hurt, because no kiss followed. “C’mon now, don’ cry,” he whispered, his breath much too hot against your skin, “‘m here.”

“But you won’t be,” you wailed, the words startling you as they crept out from your mouth.

You hadn’t wanted to admit them.

“But I am now,” Daryl replied, just as quick. “So please jus’ smile for me, would ya?”

His hand fell down to your waist, before rubbing small circles in the small of your back — just how he did every morning to wake you up.

You couldn’t do it, but you needed to do it.

For Daryl.

You uncurled yourself from his chest, and wiped away the fresh tears with your shirt, blinking away the rest. You moved in his lap until you were face to face, trying not to catch a glimpse of his wound which continued to pour red.

Then, you finally smiled back at him.

It was wobbly, and forced, but it was wide — and full of love.

“Atta girl,” he choked back, his voice breaking for the first time.

You couldn’t tell whether his glassy eyes were from the fever, or the pain, or from you, but you bit your lip either way.

Don’t cry, you told yourself, and watched as he did.

“Yer so goddamn beautiful,” he mumbled, raising his thumb to the corner of your lips. It was as callous as always, but at this moment it only felt soft. “I was one lucky son o’ a bitch,” he declared, with a warm smile.

You raised your hands in return, cupping his face and feeling his beard tickle over your palms — thinking back to the times you complained at how unkempt it was. His forehead dropped down onto yours, and the heat from his skin radiated outwards, setting you ablaze as you touched.

“I love you, Dixon,” you confessed, as though it were the first time and not the last. “Now and always.”

The overhead lights hummed as they flickered like camera flashes, and the pounding at the door became more incessant.

So, you drowned everything out with a press of your lips to his — as Daryl tilted your head up in the way he always did, and gave you one final kiss which tasted like seasalt and copper. It was underneath the locker where you’d had your first kiss, but now it marked your last one with the man you loved most in this world.

“Me too,” Daryl whispered, as you broke apart. He glanced over your shoulder once again, at the discarded backpack across the hall. “Now get outta here before they break through.”

You stumbled to your feet violently, needing a strong, stark shock to actually be enough to pull you away from the man for good.

And you didn’t look back.

You couldn’t. If you so much as caught a glimpse of those angel wings or heard as little as a breath escape his mouth, you wouldn’t have left.

And that would’ve killed Daryl in more ways than one.

So, you retrieved the backpack, and opened the fire escape door a few feet away, before slipping behind it, and sliding down to your knees.

The concrete cut your skin open, and once again you were confronted with red.

A cry escaped you, which morphed into a wail as you clutched your chest and tried to fix the bleeding happening inside it — the red that you couldn’t see.

But a shout startled you, and ceased your sobs as soon as they sounded.

“Don’ cry!” Daryl’s voice yelled, muffled by the metal door but still strong, and guttural, and fierce. “I can hear ya!”

So, you picked yourself back up, and set yourself on your feet in the same way he’d taught you how — and you ran for the roof, flare in hand.

Atlanta High School always had the best rooftop view.

The sunset stretched out in the distance, one of brilliant vermillion, and warm, copper orange. The balcony was the same as you remembered, with high metal railings to keep students from jumping, or getting too close to that view.

This roof had been the place where you’d yelled about hating this place, this town, this state — and had cried out to the sky about wishing to anywhere but here.

But now you didn’t want to leave.

Because your everything was right here.

You held the flare in your hand, wondering what colours it would burst and illuminate the sky — whilst praying it would be anything other than red.

You let off the flare, and a single gunshot followed.

End.

Feedback is always welcomed; I love hearing what you all think - so feel free to comment, send in an ask, or just message me if you want to chat!

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A/N Blame Jess and Shannon for the increase in angst.

But I’m glad to be getting more comfortable with writing it!

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[afriendlyblackhottie]

Positions

Summary: Andy wanted your trust.

Pairings: Andy Barber x Black!Reader

Warnings: minors dni, smut, swearing, Daddy kink, rough sex, degradation, dirty talk, verbal degradation

(A/N: yay my first non request in awhile. Something I hadn’t been able to work on for a long time so if it seems a little disjointed that’s why. But I love it 🥺. Like follow Reblog 💜 ✌🏾)

»»——————————-　♡　—————-————-««

“Nice doing business with you,” Andy said, standing up to hold out his hand.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help yourself as you smiled. After giving you a handshake like you were a client, he chuckled and pulled you in for a hug. Then kissed your forehead before finally moving to your lips. God it was a good thing he’d gotten a private dining room.

Tonight had been a big night. The two of you had been dating for a few months now. Starting out as neighbors when he’d moved in next door after his divorce. What started out as a friendly plate of freshly baked cookies to welcome him turned into him helping you carry your shopping bags into your apartment. Which was followed by two of you ending up on the same jogging path to grabbing breakfast together. Then beers, then dinner, then movie nights to him finally kissing you.

At some point sex started to become a constant topic of conversation. Of him talking about how he’d tried to ask his ex wife to explore more, but every time he’d chicken out. Then when the feelings went away it didn’t feel right to ask. Like if he did he’d deserve a slap on the face.

Then you’d ended up giving him the finest glimpse into what kind of stuff you were into. How you’d been judged in the past by people so you were a little shy about opening up. But that you felt like your secret was safe with him. You’d even whispered it in his ear like someone else could hear him.

Fuck was he dying to touch you. You were all close on your knees. Tits pressing into him. If he’d turned his head just a little he would have gotten face full of them. You were wearing these thigh socks. It was cold, but you apparently didn’t like sleeping in pants so that was your compromise. Thank god for that.

It became kind of a thing you did. He’d open up about the side he’d been trying to explore and you told him the same. Always whispering it in his ears. Until he finally kissed you. He doesn’t know how he waited so long to do it.

He pulled you on his lap so he could kiss you feverishly. Then you tugged at the bottom of his white t-shirt which told him everything about where this was headed. Fuck why hadn’t he done it sooner.

He carried you to your bedroom before laying you down. Fuck he didn’t let up. Just kept pounding into you and you couldn’t help yourself as you cried out and moaned. Said his name over and over again. While he whispered in your ear this time. Saying exactly the things you’d told him you liked.

Didn’t even care that he hadn’t worn a condom. The thought never even crossing his mind. You’d just felt so good as he fucked you. Beside he knew you were on birth control. Even then he wasn’t sure if he cared.

After you came all over his cock once again, he finally exploded inside of you. Making sure to get it nice and deep as if he was trying to impregnate you on purpose. Maybe a tiny little bit of him hoping he caught you when your birth control was failing or something.

After you rolled onto your side. He’d wrapped his arms around you, repeatedly kissing your cheek as you were coming down. Asking you if you needed anything.

You just yawned and turned to snuggle into him. He didn’t stop pressing kiss after kiss into anywhere his lips could reach. Making you giggle a little before you finally kissed him back which is what led to part two.

The next morning you’d woken up before him where he found you in the kitchen making pancakes. He kissed your face over and over as you giggled before he helped you finish.

Since then most mornings were spent like this. Alternating between his place and yours. Yet he noticed something every time. Through all that talking he’d picked up on every kink you had. What made you tick. He’d found out just how to work you up to the point where it was almost too easy. God he was obsessed with it.

But, he’d also noticed was that you were holding back. You hadn’t called him Daddy once. Didn’t let him tie you up. Never even asked for it. So of course he was going to bring it up one day.

“Well,” you’d started, “I guess it’s because I feel like whenever I open up about it...” you trailed off, sighing as you shrugged, “I feel like I end up getting used.”

Andy sighed and pursed his lips. “Aw, Babe...” he sighed before kissing your temple. “You know I’d never do that.”

You shrugged. “You say that now.”

“I won’t. We’re three months in, haven’t I been good to you?” He asked.

“Yeah, but that’s not that long.”

He sighed. He didn’t wanna argue. He wanted you to trust him. Wanted to prove that it wasn’t about the sex. Well, completely. “Okay,” he started, “how about we,” then bit his lip as he thought, his head going to the side, “how about we set a time. It’s three months down. Maybe,” he shrugged,” three more?”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes playfully. “What are we gonna sign contracts?” You asked with a giggle.

“I mean, we could! That’s a great idea!” He laughed. “I can draft one up.”

“I didn’t realize you wanted to be my daddy so bad,” you said not being able to wipe the smile off your face.

He sighed before kissing your cheek. “Well, yeah I wanna be your daddy, but I also want you to be comfortable around me,” he replied.

You peeked up at him through your lashes. You knew he was right. Andy knew you wanted that. With a dramatic sigh, you casted your eyes to the side. “I mean. True.”

He pulled you in. Wrapping his arms snugly around your waist. “Hey, we don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Then he lifted your chin up with his fingers. “We can go at your pace. Or not even do it at all. I just thought-“

“No,” you interrupted him. “You’re totally right. I kinda like the idea of a contract.”

“Yeah?” He asked a grin spreading on his face. “Okay. I can draft it in the morning.”

“I’ll make sure to talk it over with my lawyer,” you teased.

He kissed your cheek. “You’re already my favorite client,” he said before kissing your nose next.

You signed it over drinks then next day. The both of you sitting on the couch as you ‘negotiated’. With anyone else you would have felt silly, but with him you were laughing so much it made your stomach hurt.

Then you made out. Which was interrupted when his son called. Then you sipped on your wine as you curled into him.

He’d held up his end up of the bargain. You’d been a very willing participant. Happily taken part trust exercises as the both of you called them. Like the time you tested how he’d respond to your nonverbal safe word by as he fucked your face. Which he is as quick to ask you if you were okay only to be met by you giggling and smiling and telling him he passed your test. Which only made him chuckle before going back into it.

Clearly it had all paid off because now you were making out on the couch after dinner. Barely able to wait as he pushed your dress passed your waist. “Daddy,” you moaned.

Fuck it was like music to his ears. “That’s my girl,” he groaned, standing up with you in his arms. Fuck he needed you so damn bad. Making sure to get you undressed on the way to his bedroom. Leaving a trail of your clothes and his. Stopping to kiss you along the way. “Gonna finally let me take care of you right?” He asked as he was finally able to lay you down.

“Please,” you whimpered. Suddenly realizing just how badly you needed him. Fuck you should have just let him do this sooner. Andy Barber was clearly a trustworthy man. You don’t know why you were tripping so hard in the first place. He was obviously daddy material from the moment you met him.

He licked his lips as he put his forehead against yours. “Yeah?” He asked. “What do you want?" Then he grabbed your cheek when you tried to look away. Feeling intimated by his bedroom eyes.

Before you could answer, his hand got real close to your pussy. Thumb pressing into your clit making your eyebrow raising as he started rubbing that spot he knew was just right. Making you squeak out, “You.”

He chuckled. The noise vibrating deep in his chest. You looked so fucking cute laying there. All spread out. Eyes begging for him to make his next move. “Don’t play stupid with me.”

Your pussy had gotten so wet. Dripping down onto the sheets. He just got you like that. Almost like you never had a choice and he’d barely even done anything. The noise that fell from your lips was almost pornographic.

Then he shifted so he could replace it with the tip of his hard cock. Flicking at it. Not taking his eyes off of you as he angled himself at your entrance. Covering it in your wetness. Wishing he would stop teasing you because your pussy was aching so bad for him.

“I want you to be my daddy,” you whimpered.

“That’s my good fucking girl,” he said before finally putting you out of your misery and sliding into you. Going about half way. Giving you a little time to adjust. Pussy tightening around him already.

His thickness feeling a little intrusive already in your pussy. You gasped. He kissed the corner of your mouth. Rocking into you slowly. Fuck it felt like your pussy was just begging him to go deeper.

Nose to yours as he inched in a little more. It made your breath hitch in your throat. Instead of going in deeper he pulled out to where his tip was the only thing in you again.

“Daddy,” you mewled. “Please. I need you so bad.”

“Tell daddy what you want, Baby.”

“I want you to fuck me.” You looked up at him with big watery eyes.

“Yeah?” He asked going back in half way. “How you want daddy to fuck you?”

“Like he owns it,” you whined.

“Aw, Baby,” he cooed before leaning down to kiss you. Taking the time to finally go in the rest of the way making you pull away to gasp.

“Fuck!”

“You want me to fuck your pussy like I own it,” he asked once again going to where only the tip was in before sliding in home.

You cried out. “Yes. Please, Daddy.”

“I can do that,” he cooed before kissing the side of your head. “I can do that, Baby.”

“I wanna be your slut.” You sniffled.

“I know.” He whispered still fucking into you nice and slowly. “You been my slut.”

“Please, Daddy,” you whimpered.

He wrapped his hand around your neck as he pretty much shoved himself into you that time then went back to square one with only the tip. “Yeah? You think you can take my dick?”

“I can,” you promised.

Ah fuck he couldn’t tease you anymore. Your eyes shutting tight as he pushed into you. Thick cock feeling like it was splitting you open until he bottomed out. Giving you a minute to get used to his intrusion before capturing your lips in his.

You moaned into his mouth when he finally started to move. Hands going to his back so you could dig your nails into him. Crying out from how deep he was going.

It wasn’t to say he was being gentle, but he was giving you a moment to feel him without completely overwhelming you yet. It was more like a calm before the storm as he peppered your face in kisses and whispered, “You take your daddy’s dick so well, pretty girl.”

Your walls tightening around him, one of your legs over his shoulder. It felt so good but you needed something more. “Daddy,” you whined. “Please.”

“Tell me what you want,” he said. “Don’t play stupid. Use your fucking words.”

You let out a cute little squeak. “More. Fuck me harder.”

Andy pulled out. Flipping you onto your stomach and not waiting for you to get on your hands and knees before slamming in. You let out a scream as he did as you asked. Not letting up as he his hips back and forth into you.

“Yes!” You cried into the pillow.

“Yeah? What you want? Needed to get fucked like a whore,” he practically growled before smacking your ass. It was too much and somehow not enough. You wanted it all. Fuck your wanted to be his forever and ever. He felt so damn good.

You worked back against him. Finally feeling like everything you’d ever craved from a man was being fulfilled only in such a small amount of time. If any man deserved to be your Daddy it was Andy fucking Barber.

He’d proved it from the moment you met. Just the little things he I’ll did. Just how much he cared. You owed him your pussy for making him wait so long.

“That’s it. Fuck yourself on my cock,” he groaned watching your ass move back and forth onto him. Slapping against his pelvis every time.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you chanted with your face still in the pillow. He chuckled seeing you so desperate. You were so damn cute. Even when you were taking his cock. “I’m gonna cum!”

He grabbed your hand twisting it behind your back so he could really start driving into you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as your boyfriend went exactly like you needed making you cum all over his thick cock.

“Fuck me. Do what you want I don’t care.” You’d officially been all fucked out and Andy had been waiting for this moment. For you to finally and fully submit to him in the way he knew you’d been too afraid to ask for before.

He grabbed your hair laughing at how far gone you were. “That’s my good girl. Gonna let me use this slutty pussy to get off.”

“Please don’t stop. Please.” You begged.

“Daddy’s not stopping until you can’t take anymore,” he replied. “You’ll be begging me to stop.”

You came again. Pussy clamping around thick cock again. Screaming daddy. Fuck he loved you like this. Using your body. Calling you names. Fuck. It was addicting.

Making you cum over and over because he wasn’t satisfied until tears were streaming down your face. Then he just made you do again because he wanted you to do it one more time as he sought out his own.

He’d wanted you back on your back for this. Wanted you to look him in the eyes as he pumped in and out of you. “Gonna cum in you, Baby. Gonna take my cum like a good fucking whore?”

“Uh huh,” you breathed because he’d officially broken you by now. “I’m daddy’s slut.”

Fuck that did it.

He doesn’t think he’d ever finished that hard. Body tightening up as he finally came deep inside of you. Making sure to get as far as he could before what felt like a never ending stream let go.

Andy was breathing hard as he laid down on top of you. Putting his head between your tits. Breathing hard, chests heaving.

He wrapped his arms around your waist. You threaded your hands through his hair. The both of you too blissed out to move. He hadn’t even fully pulled out yet.

He loved being so close to you like this after sex. You always said you loved his warmth. Then he’d roll over to pull you into him instead. Resting your head on his shoulder.

Andy kissed the top of your head. Still trying to catch your breaths. Just getting so close. Just like you needed to be.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” you mumbled back despite being positively cock drunk.

“You okay? I wasn’t too rough?”

You shook your head. “It was perfect.”

“Glad you thought so,” he said. “Just give me twenty minutes. I gotta tie you up.”

[messers-moony]

Serene | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Fem!Reader

Summary: Five’s wife has a room in their apartment for her own safe keeping. But Diego’s daughter accidentally reveals her biggest secret.

Her scent was heavenly—a beautiful desired mix of coffee, chocolate, and old books. Waking up beside her was like waking up in a coffee shop during sunrise. Her scent resembled her nature and her personality to a tea.

She was calm, collective, resourceful, and quiet. Much different than he himself. Number Five was just as innovative as her. But he found himself more different than similar. He often acted upon impulse and unable to rest. To his siblings, they were bewildered at how the two of them spent a multitude of years together in an apocalypse.

Nevertheless, opposites attract.

Regardless, she didn’t speak up. Instead, she hid in a corner with a book agreeing with the other person instead of saying her point of view. She hated conflict more than anything. Five, on the other hand, would only make conflict when necessary. He always stood up for himself and his opinions.

It was a communication issue they both had to solve. While in the apocalypse, she didn’t speak for the first month. He was lucky if he even got some form of communication other than a nod or a shake of the head. Eventually, he learned her name was Y/n. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. She looked like her name.

She moved so delicately and smoothly it drove Five crazy. This woman he met was so opposite to him it drove him up the wall. The conflict between the two usually ended up in her quietly leaving the shared apartment and returning later than expected. Which left Five to pull at the tuffs of his brown hair in frustration.

Five overthought everything. This woman was the light of his life, but she couldn’t deal with conflict to save her life, and it made him wonder. Maybe she went through a dark time before the apocalypse. Perhaps the scars on her arms weren’t from accidental burns on the fire. He paced in their main room for hours. It seemed before a knock on the door caught his attention.

The boy opened the door to see his brother, “ Hey, Diego. “

“ Um, hey, Five. “ Regardless of Diego’s nervous greeting, Five gave a reassuring smile, “ Artemis wanted to know if she could stay here for the time being while I’m at work. “

The little girl was Y/n’s pride and joy. The two were so highly similar. Even Artemis found herself cowering at Five sometimes. Five was just a ticking time bomb no one ever knew when it would explode, and it made people nervous. Henceforth Diego was hoping Y/n would answer the door with her soothing nature.

“ Yeah, she can stay here for as long as she wants. “ Five replied softly, looking at the ten-year-old girl, “ Is Y/n here? “ Diego queried.

Five shook his head, “ She went out. I’m sure she’ll be back later. “

“ Alright, well, thank you for taking care of her. “ Diego sighed as Artemis went inside Five’s apartment, “ It’s no problem. “

Diego gave another nervous smile and walked away. The brunet male shut the door and locked it afterward. The little girl never really got along with Five. He didn’t know what to do. Children didn’t mix well with Five, especially an introverted, antisocial ten-year-old girl.

Artemis was gorgeous for her age. Long brown hair that resembled Vanya’s at her age with bangs across her forehead. Striking blue eyes like no other. A pale complexion compared to Diego’s naturally tan one. Her name was almost a contradiction to who she was. This little girl was no independent, strong, brave goddess. Instead, she was intelligent, quiet, and careful.

There was one room in the apartment Y/n didn’t really let anyone into. It was the ‘spare’ bedroom that wasn’t really a bedroom anymore. Five had only been in there a handful of times. It was known as her safe space, so Five respected that. But Artemis seemed to walk right inside. To say it made Five uneasy was an understatement. He didn’t know if she was allowed inside or not.

Five walked into the room and was greeted with bookshelves. It looked much different than the last time he saw it. The room wasn’t huge, maybe the average size of a square bedroom. Black bookshelves covered the walls with a desk sitting in the middle of the room planted on a rug. The only wall space not covered was a window with a tiny navy blue couch placed in front of it.

That’s where Artemis sat with a book in hand; she giggled at her uncle’s lost complexion, “ You haven’t been in here before, have you? “

“ I- I haven’t been in here a lot. “ Five replied in awe of the room, “ Aunt Y/n says she doesn’t let a lot of people in here. “ Artemis’ voice was soft and serene.

“ Yeah, it’s been a couple of months since I’ve been allowed in this room. “ He reminisced, “ Is this where you two talk? “

Artemis nodded, “ We talk a lot in here. This is where she works, and she shows me all her drafts. “

“ She works in here? “ Five queried, completely baffled, “ Mhm! You didn’t know? “ The young girl asked.

“ No, I- I didn’t know. “ He muttered, “ She’s not just an English teacher. She writes books in her spare time. “ Artemis smiled.

“ She does? “ Five spoke, “ Like how Vanya wrote her autobiography? “

“ Kind of. “ Artemis answered, “ She writes fiction novels. “

Five spun around the room, “ Can you show me? “

The young girl didn’t reply. Instead, she looked at Y/n’s desk sitting in the middle of the room. Under the rug laid a key which she picked up. Carefully she unlocked the bottom drawer on the left side of the desk, which held multiple different notebooks full of drafts and notes.

Artemis picked up a navy blue-bound notebook and handed it to him, “ This is her most recent stuff. “

Shocked and astonished at what his wife was hiding from him, he took the navy blue book. He took a spot on the rug sitting next to the open drawer while Artemis went back to reading on the couch. Her handwriting was elegant cursive that she taught herself how to do. The notebook was as messy as Five’s lesson plans for his college students. Nonetheless, he read on.

Life is a journey and full of different surprises. People from all around the world meet in the center for one leading cause. What occurs when tomorrow doesn’t happen? What is indeed on the other side? People tend to believe there’s an afterlife. Others think that it’s game over.

Brooklyn James takes a path into the unknown. A scared adolescent. She takes a brave step to find the answers for everyone. But at what cost? Prophecies advise and warn. People intrigued and fascinated.

When happens when both ends meet?

Five sat on the floor, entranced in her writing. He couldn’t believe his eyes. How has he never seen this before? How was she doing this without him noticing? Eventually, he closed the book and looked inside the drawer. Inside was an envelope with his name on it. Curiosity peaked, he took the envelope and opened it. Inside he found more writings, but all addressed to him. It even went back to the apocalypse.

It’s been about a month now. I was able to find some parchment and ink in an old book store. I can imagine they were selling for the aesthetic of old ways of writing. Thankfully I learned how to write with a quill, or perhaps this note would look like one big black blob. Five seems to be adjusting to me better. I’m scared of him. He’s terrifying.

We’re so different it hurts. He likes to express everything, and I don’t know how to feel about it. My entire life, I’ve been shut down to the point where talking feels like a fruitless effort. Maybe talking to him will help me. But I’m scared. What if he shuts me out as everyone else did.

This is so surreal. We’re stuck in an apocalyptic future—stupid healing powers. I wish I never healed myself sometimes. I didn’t know that after climbing out of my burnt house, this is what the world would look like. Five’s been a great help, though. Sometimes he takes my mind off things. At night he’ll ramble about the constellations, and I like learning about them.

Maybe he thinks I’m asleep or not listening because I don’t talk much, but I’ve learned a lot from him. He makes me want to be a teacher, step out of my comfort zone. I hope he becomes a teacher. He’d be a fantastic math professor.

He continued to read through until a voice made him jump, “ So, you’ve found my locked drawer. “

“ I- I didn’t- I didn’t mean- “ Five suddenly became a stuttering mess, “ I showed him. “ Artemis admitted.

Although Y/n wasn’t mad, Artemis cowered with her head, looking at the floor. Y/n’s voice never held anger, even when she was angry. Her voice was calming, soothing, and laced with honey. It was one of the reasons Five fell so in love with her.

“ Artemis, can you step out to the living room, please? “ She knelt before the girl giving her a tiny smile, “ You aren’t in trouble, my princess. I just want to talk to Five, okay? “

“ I’m- I'm sorry. “ The girl whimpered, and Y/n kissed her cheek gently, “ It’s okay, you aren’t in trouble. I’m not mad. I just need you to sit in the living room for a moment. “ Five stared in wonder at his wife comforting the tiny girl.

The young girl got the message and padded to the living room. Y/n stood up from her spot and stared at her guilty husband. His green eyes looked everywhere except for her e/c ones. He wanted her to yell or be angry with him, but she never was. No matter what, he couldn’t ever make her mad. Her patience were infinite.

“ I suppose you found what I’ve been working on. “ She stated, and Five nodded, “ And you saw my parchment from the apocalypse. “

“ I really didn’t mean to. “ He murmured, and she chuckled, “ You were going to have to find out sooner rather than later. “ Y/n replied.

Without warning, he was embraced. Her arms were wrapped around his torso while her head rested on his heart. The scent of her shampoo reached his nose, a glorious mix of honey and coconut he couldn’t ever get enough of. His arms gently wrapped themselves around her shorter frame while his chin perched on top of her head.

He kissed her hair gently, “ I didn’t mean to snoop. I’m sorry, love. “

“ Well, do you like it? “ She asked, “ Like what? “

“ My drafts, my room, my notes? “ Y/n listed, “ I love it because it’s who you are. “ Five replied softly.

He pulled away to meet her soft e/c eyes, “ This room is who you are as a person. If I had to describe you in one room, it’d be something along these lines. “

“ You aren’t mad I didn’t tell you? “ She whispered, and he shook his head, “ Never. We spent forty-five years together with no privacy because we didn’t have that. When you said you wanted this room to yourself, I didn’t hesitate to agree with you. “ His voice was soft like silk.

His green eyes glittered like gems, “ This is your private room, your safe place, and I shouldn’t be mad at you for wanting privacy. “

She kissed his cheek gratefully, “ Thank you. “

“ Anytime, darling. Anytime. “

[zv5x]

What if reader was really obsessed with Senpai, [like they played his game everyday whenever they can, literally memorizing all the choices and reactions, all that jazz] And they found a way into the game?? Basically yan!reader x Senpai

Also idk if these are taken but could i please be 🥀 or 💐 anon?? Tyssm!!

You can most definitely have those Anons! Either one you want since they're both open! Also omg??? I absolutely love this consept!! Thanks so much for requesting it! Remember to stay safe and take care of yourself!

( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

You hummed, gently tracing a finger across your television screen as the familiar menu music played oh-so beautifully. It was truly the peak of music in your eyes, not that it had any right to be anything but however. What would you do if the game that inhabited your beloved soulmate was anything but remarkable? It would be nothing short of blasphemy, that was to be for certain.

Under any other circumstance, you'd be turning this game on simply to see the man that made your entire universe go round. To just talk to him, read those dialogue screens with the same amount of interest you had before you memorized everything the absolute angel had to say, to just be in his presence for as long as you could. Every second you spent around him made your world feel a little bit purer, he made everything feel like it was going to be okay.

Today, however, marked the day that you would be the one giving to him, instead of just he giving everything he could to you. It broke your heart that you couldn't do anything to repay Senpai for his kindness, almost as much as it broke your heart when you forced yourself to obtain a negative game ending for curiosities sake. Your body fell under a deep, agonizing sickness every time you even pondered about whether or not Senpai realize how truly adored he was. That is why you did everything in your power to make sure you could show your love to him.

You went through every library in your area and even beyond that reading various literature pieces regarding dimensional travel, as you assumed that is what it would take to finally be with him physically in his very world. By the time a few days passed, you considered yourself a master of the subject.

Your once clean desk was now cluttered and messy as you went over a final draft for your plans. It was simple, really, to simple. It was quite inconvenient that you only had to rely on books that were written before video games were even established on the consumer market, but it would have to do. Search engines were deemed unreliable from the minute you began doing your research on them - believing that you were intending to enter the video game industry rather than physically entering the universe of a certain title.

Eventually, you stood in front of Senpai with grand confidence, and with a promise to fufil. Soon, you'd be within his physical reach. He was smiling at you, saying words of such love and adoration, as if he was breaking through the bounds of the games script just to praise you for your hard work. Within the next hour, you'd have paid your debt to your beloved. His hard work and determination to make this relationship work would finally be appreciated by his one true love.

Giving the pixelated figure a gentle kiss, you laid back on the floor and relaxed your entire body, thinking solely of who you were trying to meet and exactly what you wanted to accomplish. You remembered reading in one of your covered books that the main method of dimensional travel was complete detachment from your physical self in this reality. Of course, your fears of not being able to meet Sen were immediately eased, considering you felt you have long mastered the art of depersonalization.

Soon, you felt yourself grow tired. Maybe that was a sign everything was falling in to place, or maybe it was just your lack of proper sleep catching up to you the moment it saw the opportunity. You hoped the second reason wasn't the case, and you quickly focused your thoughts back onto your goals as everything faded into a calming black.

You truly had no way of knowing how long you were out for, but what you did know was that the climate felt noticably different from your room. The air felt pure, clean and just the perfect amount of coldness to make breathing a genuinely enjoyable necessity. As soon as your eyes opened, you were met with a figure standing closely in front of your face. Upon waking up just for a few more seconds, your eyes quickly widened and your heart began to pound in an extremely fast paced rythem. It was him. It was your cherished, beloved Senpai.

"Ah, there you are!" He sighed in relif, gently patting your head as he gave you a reassuring smile. "I thought you'd never wake up, I was so worried!"

"Sen-Senpai?!" You immediately sat up, prompting him to give you a soft laugh as he sat you back down into a more relaxed position. He hummed and nodded his head, looking at you with a look of such elegant care that it made your heart completely swell.

"I appreciate you being so happy to see me dear, but I can't have you moving too much after you just woke up. It must have been a nasty fall for you to be out for so long..." He gave you a slight pout, and you stared at him for a moment whist blinking.

For some reason, he didn't seem as...happy to see you as you would have expected. You wanted to feel a form of disappointment, but everything had its reason, and you had to ask Senpai before making assumptions.

"Sen...do you know who I am?"

You asked, and all he did was tilt his head. "Well, no, I assumed you were a new student at first..." He gave a nervous giggle, before rubbing the back of his neck. "Have we...met before...?"

Your heart sunk. He didn't...he didn't remember you? No, that couldn't have been the case. The love the two of you felt was too strong for him to just forget. Maybe something needed to just jog his memory.

"M-my name is (Y/N), I told you my name was (N/N), we spent entire days together, I got all of your games endings, we've been through so much together Sen! Please, try and remember!" The desperation in your voice was as clear as day, and even Senpai felt it. He looked down for a moment, trying to throw your name through every inch of his mind. Until, he hit a mark.

All those times he spent with you, the good, the bad, everything you gave to him and everything you did for him. It was you! His player, his (Y/N)! Suddenly, you saw his eyes brighten and tears prick his pretty blue eyes. Letting out a choked gasp of pure bliss, he threw himself into your arms and pressed his forehead lovingly against yours. Of course, you immediately wrapped your arms around his perfect form, peppering him with as many kisses as you could manage and moving your arms up to be able to run your fingers through his hair. It was just as soft as his game sprites made it look. Absolutely perfection. You knew you had no reason to worry, you just needed to jog Senpai's memory a bit. After all, how could he forget the love of his life?

"I-I can't believe I'm finally able to meet you, (Y/N)..." He said, his normally perfectly silky voice trembling with euphoria. "Please...never leave me..." A soft sniffle could be heard as he nuzzled his head into you and completely laid himself onto you, and you promptly gripped him as tightly as you could without bringing him harm.

"Don't you worry, Senpai..."

You said, leaning back slightly to be able to look him in his pretty eyes. You made him a promise from the moment you saw him, and you could never even think of letting a person as pure and perfect as Senpai down.

"I'll be by your side forever." Kissing him gently on the top of his head, you smiled and rested your cheek upon it. "I wouldn't dare let anything tear us apart."