#the part i thought was gonna be a struggle to get right was pretty painless and this is what im stuck on ⚰️

[4giorno]

where to find a reference for drawing a fragile, outrageously tall old man from the side

[barleyo]

Scream for me.

Part two of “Gag on it.”

Montgomery Gator X Fem! Reader (lemon)

Summary: You’ve missed your gator boy and just had to pay him a visit, but what will happen when his only rule is broken? He wasn’t lying, he really won’t be as gentle this time.

A/N: Hello everyone! I received a lot of love on “Gag on it” and decided to make a part two. Beware, Montgomery is feeling rougher than his scales and sharper than his claws! As always, please forgive any mischaracterization, grammar mistakes, or spelling errors. (Very quick side note, but if you that notice I hint at a southern-cajun esque accent for Monty, it’s because I headcanon him as Cajun-French/Creole. I will also use some Cajun slang in his dialogue, such as “sha” and “couyon”.) Barely even a week after your little escapade with the one and only Montgomery Gator, you began getting restless. You craved his touch, without it you felt empty. You would risk anything to hear his vulgar words softly in your ear. So you’d made your mind up: you were going to sneak into the PizzaPlex, just to be with him again.

You somehow made it past the security bots and saw Montgomery’s room. You thought it would be awkward to knock on his door, but it would be better than just standing around waiting to be caught. He opened the door and ushered you in, locking it behind him.

“Well, look at what we’ve got here!” He exclaimed, “so nice of you to come back to see lil ol’ me.”

“You told me to visit again, so I am. I’m hoping you’re not gonna make make me earn my escape again though,” you sighed out. Where might have all this brattiness come from? Especially since the last time you saw him you where on your knees praying you wouldn’t mess up while sucking him off? Maybe you just didn’t learn your lesson yet. Maybe you wanted him to tame you.

After your last encounter with Monty, you were definitely a lot less scared of him and a lot more turned on by him, but he was still mildly terrifying, and he knew that. He knew just how to push your buttons, how to make you submit to him.

“What makes you think I’ll tolerate backtalk, darlin’?” he rasped, allowing his breath to touch your ear.

You looked down at your feet, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. You tried to apologize but he promptly cut you off.

“I didn’t mean-,” you mumbled.

“No, don’t apologize now. Rude girls should be punished, don’t you think?” he said while cornering you at the edge of his room, right next to the uncovered window.

You didn’t dare speak, you could hardly nod in rushed agreement. Suddenly he knocked you down on your knees, just like last time. He stared down at you with a venomous grin, eager to discipline you. He crouched down so that he was eye level with you.

“Let’s get you prepped, sugar.” He snickered while opening your mouth.

He then shoved two of his fingers in your mouth, retracting his claws before doing so. He felt around in your mouth for awhile, then plunged deep down in your delicate throat. Monty continued hand-fucking your throat, gradually building a rhythm.

This dragged on for minutes longer, until he got bored and jerked his hand out from the back of your mouth.

“Calm down, you big wimp, you’ll be fine,” he sneered, seeing you pant to regain your breath the best you could. “Besides, we’re not even close to being done.”

You hesitated hearing this news. God, what kind of a night were you in for?

“Alright, c’mon, open that pretty mouth really wide for me.” He demanded, clearly growing impatient.

You did as you were told and waited for further instruction. Monty turned away from you briefly to press the panel that encaged his cock. He then turned around with a smug look on his face. Oh dear, what now? Your eyes darted down and you noticed something about ‘it’ changed. It was thicker and lengthier than last time; not ideal for what he was going to have you do.

“Cool, ain’t it? Thought I’d get myself an upgrade since you didn’t struggle with it enough.”

You grimaced, there was no way in hell this would be a painless experience on your end. Good thing Montgomery didn’t care.

Without warning he held your head in place and slammed in and out, not allowing you to go at your own pace just yet. After a few minutes of this he pulled out.

“Mmm, sorry. I couldn’t help myself, you looked so useless with your mouth hanging open,” he teased.

Being degraded and used as a fuck toy was not a great feeling. Or was it?

Since Montgomery was so ‘kind’ as to warm you up on his own accord, it was easy to fit his whole length in your mouth. The real problem started when he had cum. Although he had released a decent amount last time, he pumped bucket loads in you this time. Your mouth was already full and you couldn’t make yourself swallow it, but he was only halfway done. You had no choice but to pull away and cough the excess sperm out.

“You shouldn’t have done that, baby. So wasteful.”

You looked up, hearing Monty’s husky voice ring through the room. His eyes met yours, but you quickly looked down when you noticed the anger in his expression.

“Come here, now.” he barked out.

You crawled towards him quickly, scared you would upset him further. Once you were close enough he picked you up and sat on his sofa with you on his lap. He abruptly grabbed your hair and pulled you back so that you were looking at him.

“You done pissed me off with that. Off you go breaking the only rule I place on you, ungrateful couyon,” he snarled.

His look then slightly changed, a scowl turning into a smirk.

“I know just what will make up for this,” his eyes glossed over, “if you’re gonna act like a careless brat, then I’ll treat you like one.”

He swiftly bent you over his knee, rubbing your back gently.

“Listen closely now,” he began, “I know you’re no good with rules, but this little game has some. To teach you a lesson, I’m going to spank you, like this,” his hand came down on your rear with a powerful thwack. You recoiled in pain, resisting the urge to start crying. “We’ll go to….ten. You’re gonna count each time it happens.”

He quickly leaned down so that his mouth was near your ear and said, “But if you mess up, I won’t give a damn about restarting the count, sugar.”

You tensed up, preparing yourself for the first of many hits. Monty paused for a moment, enjoying the scent of your pure fear in the air, then brought his hand down.

“Oww,” you squeaked out, “one..”

He hummed in approval and continued. Each time his heavy palm came down, you responded with the corresponding number, but every time he slammed his hand down, you basked in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Soon you reached the seventh smack, but your gator-like punisher was growing uninterested. Another, more interesting idea struck him. He freed his claws quietly and spanked you once again. Feeling his razor-sharp nails graze your skin caused you to moan out in agony and arousal, but you still managed to verbally acknowledge that only two more of these slaps were necessary.

“Wow, could you be any louder? It’s like you want everyone to know what we’re up to.” he paused, reflecting on what he said, then added, “You do, don’t you? You want them know how slutty you are?”

You gulped, knowing his suspicions were correct. The possibility of his friends hearing you get whored out by him was enough to make your cunt sticky. You shyly nodded, causing him to burst out in laughter.

“Fine then, Sha. Let them know how I make you feel. Scream for me.”

His words caused a burning sensation in your core, one you knew how to extinguish.

He then continued reddening your ass, making sure to drag his nails across you skin.

“Ah!~ …nine.” you groaned, increasing your volume exponentially.

“Good girl, I love a nice, loud slut,” he grunted.

“This is your last one, I’ll make it worth it, baby.”

He lifted his hand up and guided it down roughly, causing a sharp whack to fill the room.

That was your breaking point. It was too much for you to handle quietly.

“TEN~”

You were certain the others had heard you, and you loved it.

“Well look at that, you seem proud of yourself,” Monty snorted out while turning you around so you could face him. You lifted your hand up to his face and caressed his scaled cheek.

“I love you, Montgomery. Thank you.”

“Tch,” he blushed, well as much as he could, “I love you too, Sha.”

[egcdeath]

second chances

pairing: softdark!steve rogers x reader 

summary: you wake up on the side of the road with no memories, no possessions, and no place to go. luckily, an attractive stranger arrives just in time to help you out. 

word count: 4.6k

warnings: there are some soft moments, but this is ultimately a dark fic!!! alluding to kidnapping, deceit, mention of knife, drugging, abuse (mostly mental/emotional, but implied physical), amnesia, brief alcohol mention, nightmares, mention of bodily harm, bed sharing **if i’m missing any warnings, let me know

author’s note: this is my first dark fic without a dark reader, so please be nice! it took me nearly a whole month to get it where i want it to be (i’m a slow writer, i know) but i’m actually pretty proud of this. 

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

After what seemed like years of waiting, the opportunity finally lent itself, a small pocket knife sat right in your peripheral view. A dangerous mixture of adrenaline and impulse filled you, not even granting you the time to think before you were clumsily extending your arm, and wielding the knife. 

The blade popped out, and you held it with a shaky hand in front of your captor.

“Really?” he scoffed, “you’re gonna kill me.”

There was no attempt on his part to stop you, in fact, he smiled and leaned back slightly.

Your whole body trembled at this point, you could barely form words, let alone move. But this was your chance.

“So do it, Y/N. Kill me,” his voice steadily rose as he approached you, long legs making their way across the room.

Before you knew it, he was standing in front of you, hand approaching your own. He wrapped it around your wrist and gripped down on you like a snake, causing you to emit a tiny yelp.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked, voice steady as your hands trembled around the grip.

“Exactly. You’re still as fucking pathetic as you were the day I met you,” a slap stung your left cheek, a mark that was sure to be there for the days following. 

The knife clattered as it hit the linoleum floor, and you followed its path, crumbling on the floor and breaking into tear-less sobs. 

“Remember this moment, sweetheart. You’ll never get a chance like this again,” he swooped up the knife before walking away from you, leaving a broken woman in his wake.

——

You went from experiencing nothing to everything all at once. Your brain seemed to be attempting to escape your head as it pressed against your eyes, and you struggled to open them, lashes feeling like they were glued together. Rain poured down on your head, and you concluded that it had been pouring on you for a while, as you were completely soaked to the bone. 

As you looked at yourself and your body, a curled up and bruised mess on the side of the road, you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly happened to you, or at all. You weren’t even sure that you had memories apart from the ones that were processing in that exact moment. It was as if you’d exited the womb for a second time, clueless to where you were, who you are, or how you got there. 

You shivered as you pulled yourself to your feet, weak ankles shaking in glittery heels and body trembling in a half-torn dress. Wherever you came from couldn’t have been good.

You slipped off the shoes and held them in your hands as you walked down the side of the deserted road, bare feet sloshing in mud as you did so. You didn’t have an idea where you were, or where the nearest sign of life was. You were tempted to walk on the soaked, petrichor scented road, but you knew that that wasn’t your best idea.

You truly had no good options. Nothing to do. Nowhere to go. No one to save you. You wanted to collapse back onto the ground, give into your screaming body that was becoming more and more tired by the moment. Hot tears began to slip down your face, contrasting the cold of the raindrops falling onto your body. 

All hope was lost, you’d die any time now, and that would just be it. You looked up at the overcast sky and screamed at it, mentally begging for someone, anyone, to help. That you’d forever be grateful to god, or the universe, or whatever it was that was out there that put you in the situation you were in. 

You screamed and sobbed until your throat was raw, and you weren’t sure you’d be able to produce any more sound, sitting down onto the damp ground and wishing for your inevitable death to be a swift and painless one. 

Yet, your pity party was crashed just moments later by a beaming red light and the soft hum of a motor coming down the road. This was your one chance. Who knew when the next time you’d see a sign of human life was?

You jumped to your feet and waved your hands like a madwoman, trying to catch the attention of the male behind the driver's seat. He began to come to a stop, pulling over a bit to see you better.

His face was angelic, a strong jaw and soft eyes that looked like they had seen more than the average person. When he spoke, you felt heaven become drowsy with harmony. Or maybe you were just really tired. Regardless, your pleas to a higher power had proved fruitful, as your knight and shining armor had just pulled up beside you to save the day.

He rolled a window down, and you got closer to the door.

“Need a ride, ma’am?” he called.

You simply nodded and approached the vehicle, opening the door hesitantly. You sat down on the seat, and jumped a bit when you felt heat radiating onto the back of your thighs.

“I’m Steve. You?” 

You chuckled awkwardly, “that’s a great question that I wish I could answer. It’s actually kind of a long story. Well, I assume it’s long since I can’t remember any of it. But maybe I will later. Nice to meet you anyway, Steve.”

He nodded understandingly, completely unfazed by your lack of name. Maybe he had prior experience with hitchhikers, as he was approaching this situation with a nearly suspicious calmness. “Well… where’re you heading?” the man asked, looking over at you.

“I, uh, I have no idea,” you said raspily, throat still sore from your previous screaming.

The blonde’s lip quirked at this, as if he were holding back a much bigger smile, “that’s fine. I’m heading a few towns away, but I was thinking of stopping and getting some breakfast. You interested in that?”

You shrugged, becoming slightly uncomfortable in the quickly dampening seat. Steve glanced over at you after putting the car in drive, and noticed your discomfort from your prior stay in the rain.

“We can stop by a bathroom first. I’ve got some extra clothes with me in the back,” he suggested. You nodded quietly, looking at the vast, and empty road ahead. 

----

You sat in a diner booth dressed in a thick jacket and comfortable sweatpants that oddly enough, seemed to be exactly your size. Steve approached the table with an extra plate of fries, and set it gently in front of you. 

“So you don’t remember anything?” he asked, stealing a fry before sitting down across from you. 

You shook your head, bringing a salty fry to your mouth, “I swear I just woke up there. No memories, no nothing, no place to go. I mean, I was gonna die out there if you didn’t get me.”

Steve scoffed a bit at this, “that’s not true. I’m sure someone would’ve helped eventually.”

“Maybe. But I’m glad that it was you,” you looked up at him, and the fondness he was looking at you with was nearly suffocating. 

Steve paused for a moment, mulling over his next words as if he was looking for the exact right thing to say.

“Would you like to stay with me? I mean, I know we just met each other, but I just have this feeling. Like I was meant to find you. Besides, it doesn’t seem like you have anywhere else to go.”

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you excused after a moment, popping out of the both and heading towards the ladies room.

You handled your business, and stared at yourself in the mirror as you washed your hands. Makeup ran down your face, and it almost appeared that you were melting. Who would pick someone up in such a state? You had to question this Steve guy’s character a little bit. You couldn’t remember the exact phrase, but it couldn’t be smart to get into a car with a stranger. Especially a stranger offering to take you to some secret location with them. After all, he could be a murderer, a kidnapper, or a rapist. You would be none the wiser.

But he fed you, clothed you, and offered you a form of shelter. He couldn’t be too ill intentioned if he was willing to go out of his way to help, right? Maybe he just wanted to keep you off the streets, and that was why he was willing to take you to wherever it was that he was going.

Your stomach turned the longer you watched yourself, the longer you thought. Perhaps your intuition found that something was off. But who even knew if you could trust your intuition, after all, you were basically a day old, and you didn’t seem to have any other option.

——

You ended up going back out into the diner and accepting Steve’s offer. You didn’t really have much of a choice, and he wasn’t exactly a bad one. 

Steve was quiet for the majority of your trip, only speaking when he noticed that you’d moved your sights from the window over to him. He didn’t seem to be a fan of the way you were studying him, but for some reason your eyes kept finding him.

Hours had passed in the day, and night was quickly approaching. You dozed as you watched the starry night from the passenger window. Your eyes were becoming heavier by the moment, hours worth of watching flat landscape, combined with the complexity of your day finally catching up to you.   

——

Cold. You felt cold. The floor was cold. The blood running through your veins was cold. Your brain was cold and freezing, hindering you from properly processing what was going on in front of you. 

A searing pain rolled through your body as you tumbled down the stairs, back into a room that was suffocatingly familiar.

“I should’ve never allowed you to leave. Ungrateful,” a faceless man followed you down the stairs and hovered over your now battered body. “I give you a home and you complain. I take care of you, giving you almost anything you could ever ask for. You complain. Do you know how many people would kill to be in your position? With someone like me taking care of them?” 

“You told me you loved me, you goddamn liar. I let you come upstairs, and you try to fucking kill me. I should kill you,” he seethed, leaning down over you.

But I won’t.

The words were unspoken, but familiar. A threat uttered to you before, usually followed with an ‘I’ll make your life a living hell instead.’

You were unable to speak, as if someone had ripped out your vocal cords. Suddenly the faceless man was reaching down and holding the bloody organs in his hands. Your blood ran cold once again. 

“You can’t even fathom the hell I want to release on you right now,” he continued, chest puffing out with exaggerated, angered breaths. “But I’ll be the bigger man. Because I love you,” he dropped the cords on the ground beside you, and your eyes flicked over to the mutilated part of yourself. “Y/N, I need you to prove to me that you love me.”

You wanted to beg, to plead and tell the man whatever he needed to hear in order to release you, but you were completely powerless. 

The man hoisted you up with ease, and you soundlessly whimpered. He carried you into a small, plain room and set you on the flat, stiff mattress on the floor. 

“Come on, Sweetheart. You know I’m doing this for us.” 

The faceless man kissed your forehead, and the feeling of dread overtook you.

——

You awoke with a gasp, clawing at your own neck to make sure that your vocal cords were still intact.

“You alright?” Steve asked, glancing over at you. “Should I pull over?”

“No, I’ll be fine,”  you whispered.

“Take some deep breaths for me, okay?” he advised, setting a reassuring hand on top of yours. “We’ll be at the hotel any minute now.”

——

Your nerves were absolutely fried by the nightmare. Your hands shook like leaves in the wind while you stood next to Steve as he checked you into your hotel room.

“How’re you doing?” he asked in the elevator, setting his large hand on top of yours once again. The gesture was calming, even if you felt a slight undermining feeling of something unsettling.

“A little better. I probably just need to lay down somewhere comfortable.”

Steve nodded and squeezed your hand, “you’ve had a long day. You have first dibs on the shower. Maybe it’ll help you relax.” 

The smile that Steve was giving you was comforting. You felt glad that he was the person to have picked you up.

The elevator made a little ding noise before the doors opened, and he guided you to your room. 

You made a beeline to the shower, not even taking the time to be impressed with the size of the hotel room, the amenities, or the quality of it. You just wanted to shed your clothes and find at least a moment of peace. 

You exited the bathroom after about a half an hour, and walked out into the suite in just a towel. 

“Can I borrow some more clothes?” you glanced over at Steve, who was openly checking you out from the comfort of the bed.

Wait, the bed.

There were way too many things going on for you to be focused on the fact that there was just one bed. Maybe Steve would offer to sleep on the sofa.

“Yeah, that’s fine. My teammate left some clothes in that smaller blue suitcase. It’ll probably fit,” Steve paused for a few moments as you found the aforementioned suitcase and looked for something comfortable that you could actually sleep in.

“Who did that to you?” he asked, gesturing at your bruised legs.

“I don’t… I don’t know. It’s all so blurry,” you sighed, settling on a fresh pair of sweatpants and a thin t-shirt. “I’ll be right back.”

You changed quickly in the residually steamy bathroom, and sat down at the foot of the bed. 

“Do we need to have a fistfight over who gets to sleep in the bed?” Steve joked and you shook your head.

“I can sleep on the sofa, if you want.”

“No way. You deserve something comfortable,” he got out of bed, and approached the bathroom to take his own shower. “Get nice and cozy, friend. You deserve it.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, and you moved up to the top of the bed, slipping under the covers and sighing aloud from relief. Your body was finally having a chance to relax, and the hotel bed was surprisingly comfortable. 

By the time Steve returned from the shower, you were already half asleep, and very unaware of your surroundings.

As you fell out of consciousness, you had blurry visions of confinement, punishments, and pain. You once again woke up with a gasp, but this time Steve was standing over you. 

“Deep breaths, okay? I saw you thrashing and mumbling something to yourself. I think you were having a bad dream.”

You nodded and panted, trying to catch your breath and slow down your hummingbird heart rate. 

“You’re safe, I promise.”

“Can you stay with me?” you stammered out.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve got into bed beside you, and rubbed your back as you curled into a fetal position, “just try to relax, okay? There isn’t anything to fear when I’m here with you.”

You nodded, clutching onto Steve’s genuine tone. Something about him just made you feel… safe, despite the possible red flags around him. 

After Steve got into bed with you, you were finally able to fall into a dreamless and peaceful sleep. 

——

You woke up to an empty and cold bed. You blinked a few times and looked around the room, eyes stopping on Steve as he watched you from the couch, eyes quickly flipping between yourself and the book in his hands in an effort to cover up his staring. 

The whole ordeal made you feel slightly off, but the realization that you were essentially mooching off a stranger felt worse. 

You hopped out of bed and anxiously paced towards the bathroom. “Shit, Steve,” you muttered. “I shouldn’t be taking advantage of you like this. I should probably leave.”

“Where else do you have to go?” Steve almost defensively questioned, frown deep on his face.

You took a deep sigh and shrugged, “I… don���t know. I’ll figure it out.”

“You don’t have to go,” he began, sounding unsure in his words, “stay. With me,” he stood up and walked over to you, grabbing the back of your arm softly. “You’re not taking advantage of me. If anything, you’re helping me. I get pretty lonely on these kinds of missions, so please, stay with me.”

You turned to look at Steve, the deep creases in his face at the thought of losing you. With just a glance, you knew that you couldn’t leave. 

——

The next few days of your life had proved your theory. It was almost alarming how quickly Steve became your anchor in the midst of a new, overwhelming world. 

The first thing that he did for you was tell you what your name was. As confused as you were to how exactly he figured it out, (he told you that he knew some weird tech guy. You were prepared to go with anything), you were grateful that Steve was able to help you out a piece of your old life back together.

He was oddly patient with you as you learned more and more about your surroundings. You were most impressed by the grocery store, and may or may not have spent hours inside of that food palace, spending much more of Steve’s money than was socially acceptable. 

For the next few months, you stayed at a safe house with Steve, spending the majority of your time looking down at your reflection in the lake in the backyard, wondering if your memories could ever come back.

You’d grown closer with Steve in that time as well, he was really the only person that you’d gotten close with since you’d lost your memories. Now that you were thinking about it, you hadn’t said more than three sentences to anyone else. By that measurement, your next closest friend was a gas station cashier.

In fact, you’d started dating Steve. Granted, you couldn’t completely wrap your mind around it all, despite the hours of rom-coms you’d watched while Steve was gone on missions. You just knew that you cared a lot about Steve. When he was around you, your heart fluttered. He was the only person you truly felt comfortable with. He protected you time after time, and voiced to you just how much he adored you. 

It made you feel wanted, to know that despite all of the confusion, you still had a place in this world, even if the place was just Steve Rogers’ heart. 

——

Steve arrived at the safe house late at night after nearly a week of being off on another mission. The bed creaked as he got into bed with you, and pressed up against your sleeping form. 

“Steve, sometimes I have these really awful dreams. Mostly when you’re not with me,” you began out of the blue as his arms snaked around you. “It’s always this faceless man just… abusing me. And I can’t even do anything about it because I’m too weak. And I can’t say anything because he stole my vocal cords. It sounds so silly, because it’s all just a dream, but it all feels so real. I just... I need you to promise me that you’ll protect me no matter what. Especially against him.”

“Of course,” he whispered against the back of your head, “I promise that I’ll protect you from him. He’ll never even get the chance to let the thought cross his mind.” 

“I love you, Steve,” you mumbled sleepily, “please never leave me again.”

He’d been waiting to hear those words.

——

Your fingers wrapped around a warm mug while Steve put the finishing touches on your breakfast. He’d decided to go all out that morning, with an impressive spread of food that would put most buffets to shame. For a moment, you questioned if you’d forgotten about some important holiday, or an anniversary.

Steve set a plate down in front of you, then pressed a soft peck to your forehead, “enjoy, sweetheart.”

You grinned softly down at the food, and at the affection, “what’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Just relieved to be back. I don’t like being away from you for too long,” he settled into the seat across from you, and took a sip of his own coffee.

“Mm, you sure? You’re not always this chipper post mission.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head just the slightest bit, “alright. You got me. I wanted to save it as a surprise, but I hate keeping secrets from you,” Steve paused.

“So… what’s the secret?” you pressed, bringing a forkful of food up to your mouth.

“I’m retiring.”

Your eyes widened as you heard the news, and you nearly choked, “are you really?”

Steve simply nodded, “I’m ready for the next chapter of my life with you.”

Your heart fluttered at the sweetness of his gesture, and the slightest hint of nerves. Why was Steve so willing to give up his entire livelihood for someone he knew for less than a year?

You felt bad for questioning his motives, considering that Steve had been nothing but good to you in the time that you knew him. If it wasn’t for him, you probably wouldn’t even be alive. He had proved himself to be an amazing, loving man, who had bent over backwards to keep you safe and comfortable. He trusted you, and it was time for you to do the same.

“I’ve been plotting this for a while, to be honest. You might think this is a little fast, but I even have a permanent place for us to stay.”

You couldn’t find it in you to be skeptical for much longer, your feelings of adoration for Steve overruling your hesitance to jump into something like that with him. 

You smiled softly as Steve spoke, getting up and pacing over to where he was seated so you could give him a hug, “I.. yes, that’s fast, but it’s also kinda amazing,” you sighed softly, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “When are we leaving?”

“Tonight, if that’s alright with you. I was thinking that we could spend the day packing up and… celebrating,” he winked down at you, and you looked up to shake your head fondly. 

“That sounds like a plan,” you gazed at him with adoration, and leaned up to press a soft peck to his lips that was lovingly reciprocated. 

——

Music pounded against your eardrums as you ground against a handsome stranger, one you couldn’t see, but instinctively knew. The smell of sweat, liquor, and sex filled your nose, the rancid combination oddly comforting in a retrospective moment. 

“We’re leaving!” A voice you hadn’t heard in what felt like years informed you. Your face broke into a wide grin when you heard her voice. “But it doesn’t look like you care!” she jeered. “Good luck!” your friend laughed, disappearing in the sea of people. 

“You’re coming home with me, right?” he asked, a hot breath against your cheek. 

You nodded. The words refused to come out. 

“Good,” he confirmed, pressing a kiss to your neck.

Out of the blue, you weren’t in the club, but in the small basement room from before, staring at nothing in particular while sat at the edge of your vanity’s seat.

“I’ve tried everything with you,” he commented, leaning against the doorway casually. You felt the need to apologize, to tell your captor that you didn’t mean to do what you did, that you loved him. Plead for him not to punish you. “After months of submission, I thought that we were finally getting somewhere. Why’d you have to throw it all away?” 

Glancing up at the vanity, a woman with sunken eyes, a pained expression, and fading bruises looked back at you, just long enough for you to briefly become that messy, drunken woman at the club once again. 

“I’ve tried everything with you. The easy way clearly didn’t work,” he continued, “you leave me with no other options, my love,” the man sighed, sitting down next to you casually. “I want you to know that I’m doing this for us. You know that nothing good ever comes easy, right?”

The syringe went into your arm like a hot knife through butter, and your muscles clenched as fire filled your body. You went to scream, but your throat was still out of commission. As you went down, your vision and thoughts began to blur before you couldn’t decipher one thing or another. The final noise you could make out was the distortedly slow rendition of It’s Been a Long, Long Time on the record player.

In an out-of-body moment, you watched as the man pulled your relaxed body down to the floor, cautiously pulling the clothes off of you and making you cringe internally at the sight of yourself in such a state. He left your body alone for a moment as he looked through the negligible amount of clothing in your closet, grabbing the same dress from the night at the club and pulling it on your limp figure.

It was torn and messy, not unlike the state it was in when you found yourself conscious. The faceless man muttered something unintelligible to himself before hoisting you up bridal style and taking your body out to the car. 

You watched in terror as this all played out, your slack face looking disturbingly at peace compared to how you’d appeared before. In fact, even in your ghastly state, you felt at peace. 

That peace quickly came to an end as you watched yourself get ditched on the side of the road, and as your body slowly began to twitch back to consciousness, your dream began to fade away.

——

You dragged your suitcase up through the garage, grateful to be at your final destination with the man you’d fallen in love with. You hoped that after moving in, the dreams might finally stop. After all, your dream in the car felt somewhat final. You were trying your best to be as positive as you could manage in such a strange situation, and from the outside, you had to admit that the house was gorgeous.

Stepping inside felt like the worst case of deja vu you’d ever experienced, as if your memories were repairing themself with every millisecond you were in the home, gazing at furniture you hadn’t seen in months, and smelling faint scents that you’d forgotten existed. Feature by feature, the puzzle pieces of the faceless man came together.

The longer you observed, the worse the feeling became. Waves of grief, fear, and pain were rolling over you again and again until you were completely drowning on it. The realization hit you with a ton of bricks: this was the house from your dreams.

Steve came up behind you, snapping you out of your panicked trance. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and squeezed you close to him.

“Ready for the first day of the rest of your life?”

[endeaavorr]

PAPA!ENJI AU CHARACTER BREAKDOWN

hello ! this is some new content idea that i thought would help everyone understand their dynamic better, and if this turns out well i’d turn this into an event too, i hope you enjoy. with love, moon. cw : mentions of death, violence, suicide, slight yandere tendencies.

“if you (have to) choose between the fate of your partner or the fate of the world, what will you choose ?”

y/n’s answer : them

y/n is very selfish when it comes to her relationship with enji. there’s something with the way she thinks, that’s just different and not even i, her creator can fathom or tell if it’s good or not. she’s so emotionally intelligent it boosts her and even enji’s publicity. but at the same time, to her nothing matters other than enji and her brothers. she would gladly knock on devil’s door and put a bargain on things no one wants to know what is just to get her way.

enji’s answer : the world

this is pretty obvious. enji is officially japan’s number one hero, with a successful agency to lead aside from it. it naturally makes him a leader that will have no choice but to put others first, it’s his responsibility, it’s his fate.

“will you sacrifice yourself for the other person ?”

y/n’s answer : will

after all the todoroki discourse, y/n considers enji her life and death. she vowed to herself to do everything in her power and beyond to make sure enji can be happy with her. to her, death is painless. it is life that brings misery.

enji’s answer : will

this is self explanatory. even if their relationship remained platonic, enji’s parental love would still let him give up his life for her.

“can you kill your partner if they become a monster ?”

y/n’s answer : can not

as i stated previously, y/n is selfish when it comes to enji. she would rather sit back and watch the world gets consumed by hellfire if it means she can be with enji.

enji’s answer : can

he has his responsibilities as a hero, and sacrificing personal matters is at the top of the list. he knew what it’s like to lose a child, so he can have a better judgement of what he would do. it’d crush him though. he’d be on distraught for a long time.

“will you take revenge if your partner is killed ?”

y/n’s answer : will

enji is a hard man to kill, if he somehow got killed it would be because he was distracted like when dabi revealed himself as touya, or it would be because reinforcement came late. the latter would be worse though, there’s no limit to how far she would go.

enji’s answer : will

unlike y/n’s egocentric temper, enji wouldn’t blame it on reinforcement or other survivors. he’d use all his connections and power as the number one to find whoever���s responsible. i haven’t thought this enough but it’s possible that the grief gets too much for enji to handle, it completely dulls his hero tendencies. he not only will let your killer die a slow and painful death, but also their kid too. an eye for an eye.

“will you follow your partner to death ?”

y/n’s answer : will

there are two scenarios where i thought about this possibility may occur. scenario one would be if enji’s sacrificing himself to save everyone like fighting a villain or gets trapped etc, if that’s the case she’ll stay and let life play whatever joke it has on them, as long as she has him, it doesn’t matter. scenario two would be if enji died without her like for example in a hospital or a battleground where she’s not present, if that’s the case she wouldn’t straight up kill herself, she’ll see what happens after like if it was accidental or planned or anything, but im not disclosing anything though, she can be unpredictable when it comes to enji.

enji’s answer : will not

if the conditions are like as i stated with y/n, on scenario one enji would sacrifice himself with y/n so ‘she at least won’t be alone in her last moments’. meanwhile on scenario two, he’s gonna prompt for revenge, and maybe find a way to bring her back.

“possibility of marriage ?”

y/n’s answer : there is not

enji’s answer : there is not

enji is legally still married to rei in this au. even if their marriage wasn’t built on love and it’s practically ended, a divorce will stain his and his family’s name. they had a talk about this about two years after both of them became a thing, and there’s a mutual agreement on this matter. the todoroki legacy that has been built is way too valuable to taint. enji feels bad though, y/n has sacrificed way too much, even more than rei did. so enji did give her a promise ring, making it clear that he’s not messing with her feelings or taking her for granted. he wears that ring in place of his first one that he got with rei. on a more simple answer, i’m sure incest marriage is illegal. (too bad)

“at the end of the world will you be with your partner ?”

y/n’s answer : will

enji’s answer : will

there’s no need to elaborate further on y/n’s answer. however enji’s a bit tricky since he should be trying to save people, right ? but no. he’s still a person with his own desires before he is a hero. it’s not like the world ever sacrificed its life for him anyways. enji would stop by rei’s place where natsuo and shoto lives to give a last apology, then go somewhere nice with y/n to watch the skies darken for the last time.

“will you tell lies to your partner ?”

y/n’s answer : will

enji’s answer : will

both of them are similar in this. i guess this is where the todoroki genes take place. she would only do harmless lies like birthday surprises and when she’s hiding her struggles or something because really there’s nothing for her to lie about, while enji would lie to protect her from the harsh knowledge of the grown up’s world. he thinks you’re still too innocent for the world, and he’d like to keep it that way.

“your partner has been killed to end their hellish suffering, will you revive them ?”

y/n’s answer : will

by now, it’s clearing up that she has some yandere tendencies. it’s not to the extent that she beheads any woman breathing the same air as enji, but it’s enough to be delusional at times. in this case, if enji was killed then she’d go into a craze frenzy. it’s even worse because people will come up to her and say shit like “he’s happy now.” she’d think “he was happy with me too” and mutter it lots of times. kinda scary to the people around her, and if given the chance to revive him, she’d take it in a heartbeat. she’s sure she can make him happy.

enji’s answer : will not

well, how do i say it. enji do loves her, but the years difference in life experience between him and y/n makes all the difference. he thinks rationally, like a normal person do. he’s not that confident in making y/n happy in the first place either, it’s not like she was free from his shitty jerk behaviour back then, if not she even sometimes took the hit for his brothers too. he’s not sure if he ever really made you happy despite trying his best. thus if given such situation, his insecure ass would consider it best if he lets what has happened, happened.

“can you live your position and responsibility for your partner ?”

y/n’s answer : can

y/n’s still quite young, only a few years in her hero career. she doesn’t really have a lot to stake on to be frank. especially with her pesonality, it won’t be a hard choice. hell if enji asks her to be a homemaker she’d be delighted to resign.

enji’s answer : can not

he has too much responsibility, having achieved that much in such a young age means he has a lot in stake. it’s unprofessional too, it irks him to be anything other than that.

“what are the last words you will say to your partner before you part ways forever ?”

y/n’s answer : i will care for you always, that was my part of the deal.

enji’s answer : i’m sorry.

in my au, i only consider this possible to happen if rei wanted to get back together and enji had no choice but to agree. it would be a long shot though, it’s canon in my au that y/n despises her mother, she’d be on her neck the moment she got off the hospital, keeping her away from enji as much as possible. but if this scenario did somehow happen, i think y/n would give in. he’d do anything for enji at the end of the day. (as long as they still fuck regularly tho)

“would they want to meet each other again if they were reborn ?”

y/n’s answer : i want to

enji’s answer : i want to

maybe this time, he won’t be so insecure and flawed. maybe this time, she would fight harder for him.

“finally, one word to describe their relationship ?”

moon’s answer : romantic.

maybe they were doomed from the very start, but they loved each other with all they had. maybe it was wrong, and ugly at times, but still they were two romantics yearning for each other.

this is the end of the character breakdown, thank you so much for making it this far and enjoying my papa!enji au. i appreciate all of you so much.

[trash0receptacle]

Headcannon

Before that however: I’m sorry for not being active lately I’ve been very, stressed, busy, and tired. Since school started back my mood definitely declined a shit ton. With that being said writing is a way of coping for me so this is really just gonna be what I need today. If it helps you then that’s wonderful too.

Tw: Deppresion, Anxiety, and Anorexia

Paring: Lucifer x f/Mc

Also the way I right Luke is supposed to be taken platonically.

(Mc’s Pov)

Life had been shitty lately a lot more shitty than usual. I suppose it started when I heard some of the other succubi talking about me in on the way to class.

“She’s so lucky!”

“I know why does that bitch get to live with the brothers?”

“What do they even see in her?”

Sure I shouldn’t have taken the comments so personally but hell I take everything personally. So thats when my self doubt started forming roots in my mind again.

Before devildom I already had a lot of unresolved trauma and pain but the brothers really helped me. They were there for me when I needed them and made me feel wanted however after Belphie escaped the attic things went downhill for me mentally. The situation caused me a massive relapse and I began my destructive habits again. It went unnoticed for the most part mainly because they didn’t know the full scale of my past. All they knew is that I struggled and was medicated but nothing else. Perhaps Barbatos knew but he never said anything and I don’t believe he truly knew what went on inside my head either.

Now in the present moment I am contemplating what the succubi were saying about me. They’re right, “what did they see in me?” Surely it wasn’t my looks. I’m decently smart but I have no work ethic. The only thing I know I’m good at is being kind yet I’m a bitch half the time. So that’s when it came back to my body. The thing I’ve always hated about myself because I was never skinny enough, tall enough, pretty enough, curvy enough. I was never enough for someone to care about me.

I started skipping meals here and there. I still ate 2 out of three meals but I figured losing weight couldn’t hurt but then before I knew it I was lucky to even eat once a day. I was always good at making myself lose weight but not so drastically that you could tell I starved myself. For the most part I seemed healthy. However since I was going unchecked it kept getting worse. First my curves disappeared, then it was my hips sticking out, after that my cheeks began to sink, and finally my hair began coming out when I brushed it. I knew what I’d done but I couldn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to hurt them and in the past asking for help only got me ridiculed or hurt.

“No one wants to here about your problems mc it makes us sad.”

“You wonder why I don’t like you!”

“You always beg for compliments!”

“Your fat anyway.”

Those words just kept circulating inside my mind and wouldn’t stop. I wanted to get better I really did but it was hard to force myself to eat. However I couldn’t rely on anyone else for fear of hurting them or them hurting me so I stayed silent. That was until my ddd pinged and I received a text from Lucifer.

Lucifer: Please come to my study mc.

Mc: Uh sure... is everything alright?

No response.

This is unlike Lucifer whats wrong? Is he mad at me? I guess I shouldn’t keep him waiting otherwise he will get mad. I got up and walked to his study inside the library. On the way I noticed the house of Lamenation was eerily quiet. There was no noise besides the sound of my feet walking through the hallways. When I arrived at the door to the study I was surprised to not only see Lucifer but everyone else?

Simeon resembled a worried parent, Luke seemed confused and angry, Diavolo was most serious I’d ever seen him, Barbatos stared at me with what I assume was pity, Solomon looked at me like I was a ghost. However the brothers appeared in worst shape. Mammon seemed on the verge of crying, Levi had guilt written over his face, Satan like Luke was angry angry, Amso was for once frowning, and Belphie and Beel looked disappointed. However I couldn’t read Lucifer’s expression but I could tell something was definitely off.

“Uh hey guys... what’s wrong you look like someone died or something?” I tried to laugh off the uneasy mood in the room but it was to no avail.

“Mc if you could sit down we have some things we must discuss with you.” Lucifer spoke solemnly

They had to have figured it out. Of course I knew this would come out eventually but it still felt like a stab to the heart none the less. I sat down not even listening to the others words. All my energy was focused into not breaking down in front of them but I’d stayed “strong” for too long and tears began to silently fall down my face. The talking stopped and I felt them all look at me which just made the tears fall harder. I felt my wall crumbling down as the final straw on the camels back was placed. I just cried for what felt like hours. Once I began to calm down I finally spoke in between sobs and breaths

“I-.... I’m so-...sorry.”

The room became silent once more. No of them knew how to respond to the broken girl infront of them

“I just didn’t want to burden you guys.... you have your own problems and don’t need to put up with mine” “nor would you want to” I mumbled the last part but I didn’t go unheard.

Luke got up and ran over to me enveloping me in a hug. He just stood there hugging me as if he didn’t I would fade away. I just hugged him back feeling slightly better by the angel’s hug.

Simeon was the first to speak

“Mc we aren’t angry at you. I think I speak for everyone when I say we are worried.”

A silent agreement was exchanged throughout the room.

Diavolo spoke next

“While Barbatos wouldn’t divulge all of what he knew for the sake of your privacy he warned me that you needed an intervention.”

I chuckled halfheartedly knowing my hypothesis was indeed correct.

“Well I figured it would come to this eventually.”

*time skip*

“Can I go back to my room now?” I whisper

I wasn’t really asking rather I just said it and got up to leave. The others stayed still likely digesting the information I’d given them. I felt ashamed and exposed. I hated seeing how much my words affected them and I really needed to be alone at the moment. Eventually I made it to my room. Walking in I closed the door and just cried.

(Lucifer’s Pov)

No one bothered to utter a word after Mc left and no one went after her either. Eventually my brothers excused themselves to go where, I’m not sure. I couldn’t tell if it was minutes or hours that passed but Solomon, Simeon, and Luke left saying they should head back to purgatory hall. Which left Barbatos, Diavolo, and I alone in the study. For the first time since I’d known the prince I couldn’t tell what was going through his head. Barbatos eventually composed himself however and turned to me.

“I believe My lord and I should make our way back to the palace..”

I just nodded in agreement as the pair left me alone with my own thoughts. I’d never seen that side of Mc before. Of course I knew somewhat of Mc’s history either from her file or her own account but clearly things had been left out.

I eventually got up and left to go to my room knowing I wouldn’t be able to focus on my work even if I wanted to. On the way there I passed by Mc’s room and noticed the light was on. I debated knocking or leaving her alone when a voice called out.

“If your gonna stand at my door like a creep you might as well come in.”

And so I did.

“Hey Lucifer...”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Foot steps. I can tell who’s in the hallway by how they walk.”

“I see then.”

The room’s atmosphere felt awkward as neither one of us bother or start conversation. So I simply sat down on the floor across from Mc, who had her head in her knees. (The fetal position) Eventually she brought her head up to wipe tears from her eyes and said with a broken laugh.

“I’m sorry you had to seem me like this. I look pathetic right now..”

“Mc why do you say these things about yourself?”

“Why not it’s how I view my self Lucifer. I’ve heard it from your mouth before”

“I’m just a mere human.”

I cringed at the memory knowing she were right of course.

“Mc I-“

“You don’t need to apologize or explain I understand I pissed you off then. It was just an example”

Wanting to change the topic of discussion I asked her a question.

“Why didn’t you come to any of us?”

“Denial...”

“Denial of what?”

“That it got out of control.”

“Is that all?”

“Not exactly...”

“Would you care to elaborate?”

“I- just please don’t get angry...”

I silently nodded my head as a watched Mc loosen up a bit.

“I think it might be my lack of trust towards really anyone.”

Mc started looking into space as she continued.

“I’m terrified of needing people or letting people help me. Part of it is when I have in the past I ended up hurt and alone. So I stopped I started being the one to help others.... then I needed help and I was cast out like a piece of trash. According to them I was selfish for needing affirmation and love. So that was when I decided I didn’t need that again.”

I sat silently contemplating her words.

“I’m truly sorry mc.”

“I would say it’s fine but it’s not. It hurts like hell but that’s life isn’t it? You learn to love and trust then you get your heart stomped out like a burning ember. The people you love leave you or die and you can’t do shit about it.”

“Wait what do you mean by die?”

“You know this sounds awful but you should be thankful Lilith didn’t suffer... sure it hurts that she’s gone but you are able to remember her before then since her “death” was quick. Painless.”

“I’ve had to watch the people who were my Lilith for lack of better terms die and suffer for months or years. I watched their bodies grow weak and feeble. However I was a child then and couldn’t do anything.”

I didn’t know how to respond so we sat in silence until

“Why’d you tell me this Mc?”

“Honestly I don’t know. Likely it’s because my body is physically exhausted and my filter was turned off.”

I noticed the tiredness Mc was trying to hide for the first time.

“You should sleep mc.”

“That’s ironic coming from you Lucifer.”

“I’m being serious mc.”

“What are you going to do? Mak-“

She didn’t get to finish her thought as I picked her up and carried her to my room. I knew she shouldn’t be left alone and I wanted to make sure she would be alright.

We arrived at my room and I deposited her on my bed. I sat in on of the chairs by the fire figuring she’d want the bed.

“Ok but why is your bed more comfortable than mine? Like sis you don’t sleep wtf!”

I just sighed knowing she was probably out of it but she was kinda of adorable when pouty.

Eventually she quieted down and her breathing became slower.

Mc’s POV:

“Mc you need to wake up”

“Five more minutes”

“Mc wake up!”

I felt the covers being ripped off. A dick move really.

“Ahh I’m up I’m up asshole!”

Wait why is Lucifer looking down at me? Why am I in his room? Shit I cussed him out. Well death never seemed that terrible

“Well if you’re awake now you need to come downstairs to eat breakfast. No, you can not object to this either.”

With that he left probably to go make sure the house isn’t on fire. I walked over to his bathroom and splashed water in my face to wake me up and noticed how emaciated I appeared.

Where my cheeks always so pronounced? Or when did my eyes start looking glassy and dark? I brushed it off not wanting to delve deeper into my insecurities. So I made my way to the dinning room. When I got there all conversation stopped and 7 pairs of eyes shot in my direction. I awkwardly made my way to the table and sat down.

I tried eating breakfast but it’s always been something I’ve never been able to stomach. I honestly never feel hungry when I wake up and it’s not like devildom food is exactly tasty. I was about to get up to leave when

“Mc you need to eat more.”

“Lucifer is right mc.”

“Ok...”

I sat back down and tried to eat what was on my plate but couldn’t so I sat there looking at it. I looked over to mammon’s plate and noticed how much food his had compared to mine and figured at least one of them knew it was a process to get me to eat again.

“I really can’t eat anymore otherwise I might be sick.” With no objections I got up and took my plate to the kitchen.

As I was washing it in the sink slowly some of the brothers came in aswell. First Asmo offered to take me shopping but I didn’t feel up to it. Then Satan asked if I wanted to go to the library again I didn’t exactly want people to see me like this so I declined. So levi offered we could play video games or something and I took him up on his offer.

He made sure I ate lunch that day which I honestly forget about sometimes. By the end of the day the other brothers excluding Amso, Satan, and Lucifer were all piled in Levi’s room.

Belphie was passed out in the bathtub of all places. Mammon was trying to impress me with his video game skills and Beel was munching on snacks behind us. It felt normal.

Eventually I got tired of it and decided to have some alone time. I was on my bed watching tik toks. (But fr tho I do have a problem with tik tok) Laughing at some etc when a knock was at my door.

“Come in”

I said this without looking up figuring it was beel looking for snacks or even Satan wanting to come in here and read. When I didn’t hear anything I looked back up from my phone surprised to see Lucifer standing there.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. I just heard laughing and was wondering is you were alright.”

“Oh yeah sorry about that I’m just watching stuff in my phone.”

“Would you mind if I joined you?” He smirked

Damn not that smirk. Stop blushing Mc you got this. It’s just Lucifer.

“Uh... sure...”

Damn that wasn’t smooth.

End. (Unless I am asked to make a part two)

So I’ve been working on this for a while because I’ve wanted to make something actually decent. I wanted to do a happy ending and remind you guys that you’re amazing. And no matter who you are you’re loved and remember that.

- Caroline



[janaeekook]

Incapable i. || {myg}

“You cant love Min Yoongi, he doesn’t know how to love. Or care for that matter. You’ll just end up getting hurt.”

pairing: assassin!yoongi x reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: - mafia - death - masterbation -

series masterlist

prologue.

It was your 16th birthday when your father and your older brother Namjoon told you everything — their affiliation and leading of the largest mafia gang in Seoul. You always knew your family was wealthy, that's what you were raised knowing. But you never knew that for your family to obtain it's wealth, the two most important men in your life would go out and risk their lives every night in criminal activities.

You hadn't believed them at first, thinking it was just some prank, a wild joke. The idea of them having a gang made your stomach twist in knots. You had always been your fathers little girl, you saw him as your knight and shinning armor, slaying the dragons of your bad dreams.

Since that day you received vigorous training. Intelligence gathering, undercover and stealth missions, trades; organized crime soon became your life. You were endowed to it, you saw a lot of horrible things, things that never sat right with you, but it all became a twisted new normal to you. The only jobs you refused are to take someone’s life, for you fear your soul may never recover.

When you were eighteen, your father had decided to retire. Leaving the legacy of Bangtan Sonyeondan to your brother. Many of the older members went with your father leaving it fully in the hands of the youth they'd spent years training.

Now you're 21, and head of intelligence. After your father left, you and your brother purchased a new estate in the countryside which served as base camp. The extravagant building was large enough to be considered a castle with its different wings. The west wing was for the higher ups, there was 8 of you in total and you all kept business booming with your varying talents.

Namjoon was very clearly the leader, the true business man, he handled transactions and bigger things along with interigation.

Kim Seokjin, or Jin— was your brothers right hand and the more ruthless of the two, he hated conflict between members and he also specialized in interigation.

Min Yoongi; a cold assassin who never really said much just got the job done without fail, it's quick and painless, he said the screams annoy him.

Jung Hoseok, he deals mainly with illegal substance transactions. He's a sadist in his work, something you'd never guess.

Kim Taehyung, the brains; he is the eyes and ears of every operation and he's just a plain genius when it comes to the plans. He's usually the one to stay at the base camp watching monitors that display cameras he's hacked.

Jimin works along side you in intelligence. He's a complete flirt. He specializes is hand to hand, He may look small but he could take you down in a second.

Jungkook is your arms man, he handles all the weapons, he loves his guns and he's an incredible shot, he never misses a target.

Lastly there's you, head of intelligence, gathering information on enemies, often working close with Jimin. You're also an amazing shot and can be found sniping with Jungkook and Yoongi.

The east wing, on the other hand, housed many of your henchmen; the army. They were not to be trifled with, They were trained to kill. They are the most loyal followers, that's why Bangtan is on top, some even said if they died protecting the 8 they would have fulfilled their duties. They were willing to die for you and the others.

Loyalty is very important, it's drilled into their heads from the first day of training to their last breath. They all take an oath of trust and they devote their lives to Bangtan. Once an army, always an army.

•

"Y/n, can you hear me?" Taehyungs voice came through your earpiece.

"Ya." You spoke quietly as you sat at a booth in a stuffy little downtown bar.

"Ok, he's the one at the bar wearing the red suit, you should make your move now." You nodded and stood from the booth, making your way to the bar and next to the crimson clothed man.

"One Jack Daniels please." The bar tender nodded, you sat on the stool next to the man. You could feel his eyes raking your body.

"What's a pretty young thing like you doing here all alone?" His voice was thick with a Russian accent.

"My boyfriend dumped me." The bar tender slid you the drink and you took a large sip. The man continued to ogle you in wonder. He was not an attractive man, he resembled a drowned rat with his hair all greased back.

"He's quite unwise to leave such a beautiful woman." You looked to his face, scanning it before bringing a fake smile to your lips.

"You think I'm beautiful?" You asked feigning shock.

"Incredibly." His hand moved to your knee, his rat-like face forming the most unpleasant smirk. You took another sip of the strong whiskey before looking back into his beady eyes.

"Hmm." You bit you lip, which came off sexual but you were really trying not to gag, "What do you say we get out of here?" You stood from the stool, grabbing his hand. He pulled money from his pocket and placed it on the counter before standing.

You led him through the chorus of drunk people dancing, weaving your way to the door where Jin waited on the other side. They were hidden from view as you stepped into the cold night air with the rat man following close behind you. The way his eyes wandered your body, mentally undressing you, made you feel uncomfortable.

"I can't wait to see this body." He spoke lowly, placing a calloused hand on your hip. You grabbed the hand before twisting it behind his back and pushing him to the ground, you held one hand behind his back and the other you held to the concrete with your knee.

"What the fuck!?" He groaned, struggling in your grasp.

Hallow footsteps clicked along the pavement as Jin walked up, a cigarette between his the nimble fingers of his right hand, his other hand grasped a black cane that had a gold skull on top. He had injured his leg on a mission a few years ago and it never healed the same, but the cane made him all the more intimidating.

"W-what do you want?" The Russian man inquired from his position on the ground as he looked up to Jin who had placed the end of his cane to his throat.

"I want you to tell me what your boss is planning, and why you're in Seoul." Jin spoke calmly but the intensity and seriousness of his voice would make anyone cower in fear.

"I-I" He stuttered then Jin pushed his cane harder onto the mans throat and You tightened your hold, "Ok! Ok— we're working with another gang." Jins eyes narrowed.

"Who?"

"I-I don't know h-he wouldn't tell us! I'll do anything to prove it to you, I'll work as a spy!" The man crumbled after only seconds of Jins cold stare, the chuckle that bubbled from his throat was just as cold.

"You see, trust and loyalty is very important to me, and you crumbled under the slightest pressure. I hate men like you, cowardly, weak, you could never be one of us." Jin then walked away, you quickly stood and followed after Jin, the rat man scrambled to his feet.

"You whore! You played me! You're already someone's dirty bitch!" The man spoke to you and you just smiled viciously at him.

"It's just part of the game sweetheart." You turned walking away to the car with Jin.

"You're not even worth my time you tramp!" He called out, and I rolled my eyes.

"Yoongi." you heard him hum through your earpiece and a deafening shot rang out, the cold lifeless sound of body meeting pavement, and then silence.

•

The car pulled up in-front of the mansion. You exited the car followed by Jin and ascended the steps to the front doors, the guards on either side bowed to us.

Pushing the door open, you went inside, kicking off your heels instantly. The 4 others sat in the foyer to your left, discussing plans.

"I'm gonna change." You told Jin quickly heading up the left staircase and to your bedroom. You pealed the dress from your body, before tugging your sweatpants on and a long sleeve shirt. Hair tied back in a bun, you headed back out and down to the others.

You plopped down next to Jungkook, he looked to you and smiled, that smile of his never seemed to match his aura, or the array of tattoo's that covered his golden skin. Everyone began talking about random stuff and the mission. The muffled sound of a motorcycle outside told you all that Yoongi had arrived.

When the door opened and he appeared in everyone's view his face visually upset, but You could never really tell. He wore all black and held a full face helmet in his hand, a scar ran over his right brow and extended to his cheek. Your stomach fluttered when his tongue poked at the inside of his cheek. Your relationship toward Yoongi had always been strictly business, though your attraction to him grew, he was painfully attractive.

"Thanks for leaving the body to me." He spoke sourly his gaze directed towards Jin. He sat on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, his cane leaned on the couch next to him. Jin only chuckled at the younger man.

"It's your job." Jin held a fake smile upon his face, he stood using his good leg before grabbing his cane.

"Sure pin it on me." Yoongi spoke, Jins intimidating smile stayed on his face as he stepped closer to the other boy.

"I know you're not trying to start anything right Yoongi? You know how much I hate it."

He scoffed, "Whatever." He turned and headed up the stairs. Jin just sighed and went back to his original seat. Your eyes followed Yoongi as he disappeared up the stairs, You wanted to follow him but you knew he'd just shut you out.

You laid in bed that night, unable to dodge the thoughts of him. You groaned rolling onto your side and tried to lull yourself to sleep, it was no use your body longed for his hands all over you -- but your mind told you it wouldn't be wise to try to love someone who was so emotionally absent. But was he really?

Your mind and body were deeply contrasting one another, the allure he had; both nothing and something. It called you forth to let him break you, but your morals pulled you back as the dark aura also pushed you away. You chewed at your cheek as your mind was running rampant. Your imagination beginning to take hold the scenarios swirling through your headspace, bringing you into a daydream like state as your mind played out what your mind had thought of sending your cheeks ablaze.

"What do you want me to do princess?" It was Yoongi, he had your daydream self pinned between himself and a wall.

"Touch me." Your voice a pitiful whine as you begged for his hands, he smirked sensing how needy you were, and it was all his doing. Well dream Yoongi of course.

"Where?" He asked, your words failed to exist in your mouth so you grabbed his veiny hand, guiding the strong appendage between your legs. You hadn't realized you were fully naked in this scenario, but you didn't care as his hand began to explore you, treating you like some toy.

Your eyes shot open, not being able to face the crude scene any longer, Your room felt as if it were on fire, your clothes becoming unbearable as they stuck to your skin. Your mind had somehow found its way to the side of your body, running a mile-a-minute with thoughts of Yoongi and different ways his hands could pleasure you. Your face was bright red, You were thinking of extremely sexual situations about someone who probably saw your relationship as otherwise platonic. You groaned, feeling your core throb as more thoughts invaded your mind. You had grown incredibly hot and bothered you couldn't take it, you went to the bathroom starting a shower in hopes to cool down your bodies rising temperature.

The water ran down your body, as you stood under the steady streams unmoving. You shook your head, rubbing your hands over your face, as your mind wandered to the idea of him fucking you against the shower wall. You felt dizzy as you grew more aroused as you thought of the man only doors down from you. You groaned before taking in a shaky breath, you brought your hand to yourself, eyes fluttering shut as you finally did what your body begged for.

It was slow at first as you rubbed small circles over that familiar bundle of nerves, your mind wandering back to the idea of him fucking you senseless in the shower. You bit your lip before pressing your back against the cool tile, lifting your leg to rest it on the shower bench next to you, allowing your hands perfect access to every sensitive part of you. You pushed a finger past your entrance, quickly accompanying it with another. You imagined it was him, his experienced hands touching you, getting you off.

Your small noises concealed by the water hitting the shower floor, you quietly moaned his name as you silently wished it was his cock inside you. Your legs began shaking as you drew closer to your orgasm, you threw your head back in pure bliss the tension finally unraveling in your stomach-- and it was Yoongi's name on your lips, the last word you spoke as you rode out your high.

You quickly cleaned your now relieved body and your sweat ridden hair, before finally exiting the shower. You collapsed on your bed, drifting off into a dreamless sleep, relief and satisfaction running through your veins.

[echo-bleu]

down to breathing (3)

Part 3 of this 4+1 Manes Brother series. Four times their father's shadow was too large for them, and one time it isn't. Alex, Greg and Flint over the years.

I meant to post this a lot sooner but I took a much needed break from writing and fandom. I’m back. A little bit, at least.

[edited to add CWs because I was somehow too tired to remember, sorry: mentions of abuse, Jesse Manes being a shit father, post-injury including loss of limb, mentions of ableism and homophobia, mentions of hospitals]

3.

Greg crosses the physical therapy gym in search of Alex and finds him by the changing rooms, being helped into his jacket by an attendant.

“Everything okay today?” he asks his brother.

Alex doesn't meet his eyes. “Can we just go home?” he asks, struggling to move his wheelchair with his one good arm.

Greg nods at the attendant, who is still hovering, and steps behind Alex to take the handles of the chair. “Sure,” he says. He's starting to recognize Alex's moods, and to get better at letting him handle them on his own. This is his tired, defeated 'rough day' stance, not his 'bad news' attitude. There's nothing for Greg to do but watch out for him.

He's showered and wearing fresh sweats, at least, so they won't have to endure that process at home. The loss of independence is the hardest thing for Alex to accept, and he sees having his brother help him bathe as humiliating. Greg has tried to make it as painless as possible, but it's never easy.

He lets Alex sulk until they're both in his car. “How's the pain?” he asks casually.

“Same,” Alex mutters. “Doesn't let up.”

Greg reaches out to squeeze his thigh, avoiding his injured shoulder. If nothing else, they've grown more tactile in the last few weeks than they've been since they were kids. “It will,” he says.

“It might not. I looked it up, for some people phantom pain never goes away.”

“And for the large majority of people, it goes away or reduces significantly over the first couple of months,” Greg says. “I tried to read about it too. The odds are good.”

Alex sighs. “I'm just tired. Nothing helps.”

“I know.” Alex has been out of the hospital for three weeks, and while the heavy-duty painkillers he's on help with his broken neck and his torn shoulder, nothing even makes a dent in the nerve pain coming from his amputated foot. It's been truly rough, and Greg keeps wondering if he's really equipped to give Alex the help he needs. He didn't hesitate to offer his place and his time to his brother−deep inside, it's an opportunity to atone in a small way for letting their father abuse Alex so badly−but he feels so helpless to alleviate Alex's pain and grief.

Greg parks into the one handicapped spot in his street, which is unfortunately half a block away from his entrance. He helps Alex back into his wheelchair and starts them on their way, but he freezes when he looks up.

“What is he doing here?” he mutters under his breath.

“Flint?” Alex frowns.

Their brother is standing awkwardly on the steps in front of Greg's building, wearing fatigues, a backpack slung over his shoulders. He startles when he spots them and scrambles down the steps.

Greg can see the way his face falls when he takes in Alex's wheelchair, the sling and the brace around his neck, and finally the empty, rolled up pant leg. He closes his eyes briefly and takes a shaky breath before attempting a smile. “Greg,” he says, nodding. “Alex.”

“What are you doing here?” Greg asks, sensing Alex's discomfort mounting quickly.

“I finally got leave, and I−I wanted to see Alex,” Flint hesitates.

“About time,” Greg spits out. They all know Flint could have asked for a few days to come see Alex in the hospital, but he didn't try. “Even Clay came before you.”

Flint glares at him. He opens his mouth, but before he can come up with an answer, Alex shifts in his wheelchair. “Can we not do this in the middle of the street, please?” he asks, his voice low and pained.

“Of course,” Greg murmurs, for his benefit only. “Move over,” he adds coldly for Flint.

Flint frowns until he realizes that he's standing between them and the ramp, and steps aside. Greg pushes Alex up to the door and punches in his code, purposefully using his body to hide it from Flint. None of them say a word as they cross the small lobby and ride up the elevator to the third floor.

Greg's apartment is badly lit and still full of boxes−he found it in a hurry and moved here while Alex was in the hospital, to be able to welcome him in an accessible place. He set up all the essentials−living room furniture, kitchen, and Alex's room−but he still sleeps on a mattress, since he only owned one bed in his old place. Flint raises an eyebrow at the lack of decorations and the boxes in the corner, and Greg dares him to comment with a glare.

He brings Alex up to the couch and lets him transfer on his own, then work on removing his coat and his shoe. Alex needs every bit of independence he can manage, right now. Greg takes the coat from him. “Need anything?”

“Water and meds,” Alex mutters. “Please.”

Greg ignores Flint, who is hovering by the door, in favor of grabbing a glass and Alex's pill bottles from the kitchen. “There you go,” he sets them down on the coffee table.

“Come sit down,” Alex ushers Flint closer. His tone is kinder than Flint deserves, in Greg's opinion.

Flint shrugs off his backpack and obeys hesitantly. “How are you doing?” he asks, his face growing softer as he really takes in Alex's state.

Alex shrugs with his good shoulder. “I've been better.” He offers a small smile, before bending with a wince to grab the glass of water.

Greg considers leaving them alone, but he decides he's not done giving Flint a hard time. Besides, Alex might still need him as a buffer, especially if the subject of Dad comes up. He plops down beside Alex on the couch, careful not to jostle him. Alex flashes him a quick smile.

Flint is staring. Alex meets his gaze steadily, with a courage that Greg can only admire. “Everything will heal, except for the...leg,” he says. “That's gonna take a little adjusting. But I'll be okay.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” Flint breathes, stilted and awkward but with real concern in his eyes. “I'm sorry I didn't come sooner,” he adds, glancing at Greg briefly.

“I understand why you didn't,” Alex says softly. Greg almost intervenes, because Flint really doesn't deserve this forgiveness, but Alex goes on. “To be honest, I'm not a fan of hospital visits. I was pretty out of it anyway.”

“Dad was there several times,” Greg explains. “Clay, too. Well, once.”

Flint hears the “you should have been there” loud and clear in his tone, and he glares. “I couldn't, okay? I was on a assignment.”

“Bullshit. You just didn't want to see Alex like that.”

Flint has the good grace to look ashamed. “I would have come if I could,” he still insists.

“Dad started blaming Alex for getting injured,” Greg spits out. “I could have used some back up to make him stop.”

“He wouldn't have helped,” Alex whispers. Greg turns his head to look at him, and immediately feels guilty at the sadness on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, don't you know? Dad and Flint are good friends now.”

“Alex−” Flint starts to protest.

“Tell me it's not true,” Alex stares him down. It's impressive in itself that he can do that even in his current state.

Flint looks away.

“What happened?” Greg asks.

“I don't know, they were all buddy-buddy at my last promotion,” Alex rolls his eyes.

“I'm not his buddy,” Flint says through gritted teeth. “We just worked on something together.”

“You watched him go at me in the fucking bathroom for bringing a date and you just smirked.”

“You did what?” Greg stammers in shock. “He did what?”

There is little more important to Dad than decorum, and his sons certainly aren't. For him to go at Alex in public, he must have been truly enraged.

“I didn't let him come close,” Alex shrugs his good shoulder. “Found out just how satisfying it is to outrank him.”

“Good for you,” Greg smirks. He rounds in on Flint again. “What the fuck?”

“Alex had it handled,” Flint shrugs, but he's still averting his eyes.

“Fuck you,” Greg mutters.

“It doesn't matter,” Alex says. “I don't need either of you to protect me.”

Greg forbids himself from looking at him doubtfully. Alex is right, objectively. He's the best ranked of them all, in their three different military branches. He made something of himself, despite their father, despite everything he's endured. Even now, weeks away from a major injury and facing a life change Greg can't even imagine for himself, he's more emotionally rational than either of them. And that's three days after being officially diagnosed with PTSD.

“Do you know what you're going to do now?” Flint asks Alex quietly. “You're gonna take the discharge?”

“I don't know yet if they'll give me a choice,” Alex says. He looks at the same time younger and much older than he really is, the vulnerability striking on his face. His eyes are full of shadows, now, full of grief. Greg took him to the Purple Heart ceremony last week, where Alex received his own, but also had to hand two medals out to the families of his fallen comrades, Dawson and Karl. His best friend, and his lover, Greg knows.

How are they still here, a decade later? Greg thought he'd be out of the Navy as soon as his enlistment was up, and yet he signed up twice more. Alex was never supposed to enlist at all. Clay is the only one of them who had any wish to follow in their father's footsteps, but somehow Alex is the one who's paid the high price for it.

“Will you stay, if they allow it?” Flint asks.

“Maybe,” Alex admits. “I only have nine more months, they can probably let me ride a desk.”

Greg nods. It would be easier than him having to find another job right away, if nothing else. Alex has the kind of skills the Air Force won't throw away just because he was injured.

“You'll, um, you'll get a prosthetic or something, right?” Flint asks uncomfortably, looking at anything but Alex's leg.

Alex stares back at him, with a sort of defiance in his eyes. He looks more lively than he has in weeks, in some ways. “Yeah, we'll start the fittings in a month or so. Don't worry, in a year or so I won't even look disabled.”

Greg shudders at the echo of their father's words, the constant admonition to never appear weak. What's important is that it won't be visible, he said in the hospital, when Alex could barely look at his stump without throwing up.

Flint closes his eyes. “That's not what I meant,” he murmurs.

“Isn't it?” Alex challenges. Flint just shakes his head mutely, looking honestly apologetic, and he deflates. “Sorry.”

“I'm not Dad,” Flint says.

“No, you're not,” Alex admits. Greg nods along, because it's a fact. Even Clay has yet to reach Dad's levels of cruelty. He wonders where the line is. Which one of them will take a wrong turn, in these murky waters, and lose himself. They all know that their grandfather was probably even worse than Dad, and his father before him. It's the Manes way.

They'll never be free of that.

They'll never be the kind of brothers who hug and chill together, so they sit rigidly and a frozen pizza, their backs straight, never touching and never relaxing, until Alex's painkillers start to make him woozy. Greg helps him through his evening routine while Flint lays a comforter and a pillow on the bumpy couch for himself.

“Is he really gonna be okay?” Flint asks very quietly when Greg comes back out of Alex's bedroom.

Greg sighs. “I don't know. But he'd tough. Tougher than any of us.”

Flint nods. “I really am sorry,” he whispers. “Dad got in my head again.”

So that's the real reason for his absence.

“He does that,” Greg murmurs, like forgiveness.

[marsupials-of-mars]

Regicide

(A little bit of inspiration drawn from @sweetest-honeybee s Kingceit doodles)

What do you MEAN you won't?!" Deceit stood cold, frozen, immobile. He seemed to refuse to believe what they had just requested. "You can't just STOP! What about me?! About us?! What about what we had?!"

Roman attempted to avoid eye contact, but found it difficult once Remus had shoved him forward and ducked behind him.

"We just... we've been doing this so long now, and we all know it's not what anyone wants."

"Who knows that?! Who said I know that?! It IS what I want! It's what he wants!" Deceit bared his fangs as he shouted, a hiss from deep within his throat mixing with his words.

"But..." Remus peered over Roman's shoulder. "It's NOT what he want's. It's not because of you, he just doesn't want to BE anymore. He almost isn't him, and it's about to feel like an act to keep going."

"Then let him act!" Deceit gritted his teeth at his own words. They tasted sour in his mouth, but the thought of losing him for good was even worse. "I love him!"

Roman shook his head and reached out for Deceit's arm, but he quickly jerked it away. Roman sighed. "You won't love him. You loved him. But he's not gonna be the same anymore. I know it, Remus knows it, he knows it. And I know you know it. Trust us, it's less painful for everyone this way."

"Nothing could be more painful than this!" Tears sprang to Deceit's eyes. "You're KILLING him! You're MURDERING my King! And you expect me to just accept that?" The anger in his voice quickly drained until nothing was left but grief. "Please... I need him. I'm begging you, you know I don't beg..."

"I am partial to begging..." Remus met Roman's eyes and wiggled his brows.

"Cut it out! Not the time!" Roman sharply shoved his brother. Remus coughed and looked at his feet.

"Yeah sorry I uh... it's how I lighten the mood..." his voice was uncharacteristically soft and apologetic. He looked back up at Deceit. "We do care... but it hurts to be King. Like the bad kind of hurt, painful hurt. It's like trying to hold your head together as it's splitting down the middle." Remus demonstrated, a crack running down his skull and his head falling open to expose red goo and grey matter. Deceit jerked back. "But way less fun."

Roman chimed in: "Every time you see him, he's in pain. He hides it because he loves you but... it's getting unbearable. Remus and I, we're not parts of a whole in the slightest, and King can tell. We used to be the good and the bad, we could click together like puzzle pieces. But we're... rounded. And the pieces don't fit anymore."

Deceit clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut. "I... undersss.. ssstand. But.. pleasss..sse... at leassss-ss-st let me ssse-sssee him one lasss-st-st time? To sssay goodbye?" His voice broke. His hiss had worsened in his hysteria, each S a struggle, slowing his sentences to a sluggish pace, but the brothers were patient. It was the absolute least they could do.

"Um..." Roman wrung his hands nervously. "I-uh... we don't... I mean..."

"Of course we will! Ain't that right Lame-miserables?" Remus elbowed Roman sharply in the ribs without breaking eye contact with Deceit. "The least we can do!"

Roman looked up at Remus. He finally noticed something he hadn't before. Unmistakable love. His smile was anxious but soft, his gaze warm and sympathetic. It wasn't quite clear what kind of love it was, but Remus cared immensely, more than Roman had seen him care for anything in a long time. It clearly changed Roman's heart, because before he could stop himself he was agreeing.

"Yeah, of course we will, we want this to be as painless as possible for everyone."

"How long do I have?" Deceit grabbed Roman's shoulders. Roman had never seen him this emotional, without his usual calm collected exterior.

"Um..." Roman looked at Remus, who shrugged. "Ten..." Remus frantically gestured to raise the number. Roman grimaced but complied. "Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes to say what you need to say."

Roman had never known exactly what Deceit and King talked about. All he retained was a feeling, a distinct lack of the fear regarding Deceit that the other lights seemed to have. When Deceit acted tough or collected, Roman couldn't quite take what he was saying at face value, could feel his more personal motivation, the feelings Deceit had about his contributions.

He was overall more quick to open himself to Deceit's side, and from that he'd realized that Deceit must talk often with King about his deeper feelings and ideas. He would only open up like that to someone he felt extremely close to. He was very secretive in general, and the act of revealing even the smallest bit of personal information seemed incredibly intimate to him. Roman wasn't quite sure what Remus experienced from King, but he always assumed it might be similar.

"And then...?" Deceit gripped Roman's sash and twisted it around white knuckles. His eyes were pleading, hopeful.

"And then we're done." Roman gently lowered Deceit's hands. "I'm sorry."

"Monthly! How about monthy?! Every other month? Yearly?" Deceit looked to Remus.

"We... will think about it." Remus's smile was strained. He couldn't operate on the spot, pinned by Deceit's desperate stare. Roman had to be the bad cop, no matter how backwards it seemed.

"NO. We won't think about it. Do you REALLY want a relationship monthly, or every other month, or yearly, where you get twenty minutes with an in pain and slowly fading shell of who you really want to be with? You need to let him go, rip off that bandaid rather than slowly peeling it off over... who knows how long you want to keep this up?"

"But Remus just said-!"

"Remus is an idiot! You're hysterical if you're hung up on what he said!" Roman took Deceit's shoulder. "Look, don't think about this now. Just enjoy your last bit with him."

Deceit slowly loosened his grip and the desperation faded, replaced now by a sort of empty acceptance. "I... okay. Let me sssee him."

Roman nodded and looked to Remus. "Ready?"

Remus fell into Roman without a second thought, eager to give Deceit closure. His tentacles wrapped Roman's waist and shoulders and Roman resisted his instinct to recoil. He leaned in and touched their foreheads together. His brother's breath smelled awful and he could feel himself getting more disgusting by the second. His final thought, before he lost himself, was how relieved he was that would never have to bare a fusion again.

King woke with a splitting headache. He rubbed his temples as he slowly opened his eyes, the light sending more piercing pain through his skull.

"King!" He looked down in time to see Deceit barrel into him with open arms, knocking him to the ground.

"Woah! You're hardly a hugger..." He rubbed Deceit's back.

"I am when you're DYING jackass!"

King winced at the volume. "Aw, cmon, I'm not dying. I'm just... not gonna be around anymore."

"That's no different!"

Deceit pushed his face into King's sash and flicked out his tongue, drawing in his scent while he still could. King was the only one who knew most of Deceit's "embarrassing" habits and reflexes, though he tried to convince Deceit that they were adorable. In turn, Deceit was the only one who knew some of King's secrets, such as;

"I don't know what I'm going to do without you Tiberinus..." Deceit spoke softly and gripped King's sash.

"You're going to be the best goddamn side in the mindscape, you're going to get your points across, you're going to open yourself up, you're going to SMILE and you're going to do anything else you damn well please because you're DECEIT and your your own wonderful amazing sexy person."

Deceit scoffed. "Yeah, I'm sure..."

King stuck him with a stern look. "You're going to SMILE. Because you have the most radiant smile and the sickest fangs i've ever seen, and it's not fair that I'm the only one who gets to see that with any regularity. It's absolutely sinister."

"I'm sinister." Deceit hissed.

"No, honestly right now you seem pretty sniffly and cuddly. And in any case sinister people still gotta smile from time to time. Look at the joker."

"Oh, the joker! What a fun and convincing comparison!" Deceit rolled his eyes.

"You get what I mean though, I don't want to be the only one you can talk to because then you'll stop talking altogether. You have so many amazing things to say, and as much as I love being your outlet, if you keep plugging everything into a single outlet your house is bound to burn down. And if you only trust that one outlet and it burns out, you'll be some idiot sitting in the dark surrounded by perfectly functional outlets upset that you can't read your book. Comprendo? "

Deceit let out a lengthy sigh. "What if my lamp can only reach one outlet?"

"Then you move the lamp. You may get some weird shadows and you might have to sit at the other end of the couch. But you'll still be able to read."

Deceit slapped King's knee in frustration. "See?! You can come up with these perfect metaphors and figure out feelings so easily. I'm not good at that."

"Patton is good at that. And Logan, and sometimes even Roman and Remus. I don't get it from nowhere. You're gonna be okay."

"Who's going to act with me?"

"Roman."

"Who's going to help me when I'm sick?"

"Patton."

"Who's going to make me laugh?"

"Remus, Roman, Logan... they're funny if you ever tried talking to them. You need to think outside your tiny me-centered box. You just have to try a little. Honestly... this might be for the best."

Deceit bolted upright. "How can you say that?! How could this possibly be for the best?! You're DYING!"

"Okay, yknow what? I'm breaking up with you."

Deceit paused. "What?"

"I'm breaking up with you. Looks like you have to move on now. And you're not going to see me anymore. Because we're broken up."

Deceit blinked. "What are you doing?"

"Look, what's harder? Your beloved dying, or never again having to see that awful ex you hate? So I hate you, and we're through."

Deceit stared a moment before breaking into laughter. King relished the last time he'd hear that laugh.

"Fuck you!" Deceit shoved his shoulder.

"That's the spirit! I hate your guts!"

"Go to hell!"

"See you there!"

"I hope I do so I can kill you again!"

"You gotta kill me first you coward!"

Deceit fell into King's arms in fits of laughter.

"God I'm gonna miss you Tiber...I dunno if-"

"Nah. Not allowed. Chin up, Scales. You got this."

King suddenly felt a dampness on his chest. Deceit shook with sobs, gripping King's waist until it was almost painful. He placed a hand on Deceit's trembling back and trailed his fingers down his spine, softly, slowly, as he got it all out.

"Shhh... yeah, I know..." He wiped Deceit's wet cheek with his thumb.

"I don't want you to go... I know you think I can handle it, and I probably can I just... I still don't want you to leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere. I keep saying, it's not like I'm dying. I'll still be with you, and not even in a cheesy spiritual way, all that makes me up is still inside Roman and Remus. I know it doesn't seem like me, and I know it's way different from talking to me, but I'll always be there. I'll know what you're up to and I'll be watching. In the creepiest way possible. So you'd better not mope around once I'm out of here because I see all."

"Comforting..." Though it was sarcastic, King could tell that he'd managed to calm Deceit a good amount. His head ached from being together so long. He looked up at the clock on the wall.

"Twenty minutes. Looks like it's time to- Ow! Shut up! We agreed- You're disgusting!" He gripped his head. Deceit looked up at him anxiously.

"Tiber? What's going on?"

"Ah, just... bickering." King forced a smile. "Twenty minutes is up and they really want to split."

"Oh." Deceit took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. "About that... does it really hurt you? Have you been hurting? And keeping that from me? I would have wanted you to tell me... this might have been less unexpected."

"Oh so you're the only one who gets to keep secrets?" Deceit pulled back at the jab and King felt immediately guilty.

"Sorry, I'm just... headache. I wanted to hold it together. I wasn't planning this, I thought I could handle it. Because I love you, and I didnt want to do this to you. But I finally realized that it would be unfair to both of us if I ended up something that... wasn't me. I know it was selfish...I had some warning, I helped make the choice, so I got a head start on the mourning. But you only get... twenty minutes..." King hissed at the sharp pain in his skull. Deceit studied his face.

"Honestly... truly and honestly... I wouldn't have wanted you to tell me sooner. That would have just prolonged the inevitable. I wouldn't have been able to enjoy what I did have with you without worrying that everything we were dojng would be for the last time. And there's no use being mad anyway, I've lost any time I would have had to teach you any lessons."

"Eh, I don't learn anyways. uGH SHUT UP!" King covered his mouth and squeezed his eyes tightly shut to ward off his headache. "Sorry... I need to go."

"I know." Deceit helped King to his feet and wrapped his arms around his waist. He stared a moment. "Know that every second I spent with you makes up for this moment."

"You sappy snake..." King leaned his forehead against the top of Deceit's head. "One more for the road?"

"Like I'd let you go without it."

King tipped Deceit's chin up with a knuckle. He savored his last look into his lover's eyes, one a radiant yellow and the other a warm honey brown. He tried to burn the image into his mind, wherever it would end up. Only once he was convinced that he had it did he lean down to meet Deceit's lips with his own.

For that moment, he forgot about the pain, and he could ignore the taste of salt on both their lips. It was bliss, the kind he would never have again, the kind that was so perfect that he didn't need to.

He felt his body begin to warm, then a buzzing, a tingling throughout his skin. His headache built to a dull pulse. He pulled Deceit tighter, for what he could tell was his final second.

And then he was gone.

Roman woke with tears on his face and a rapidly beating heart. He looked up, first at Remus, who was no better off then he was, then to Deceit.

He was trembling, fingers poised over his lips as though he were afraid to touch them directly. His eyes were vacant and upturned, as if he hadn't quite noticed that whatever he'd been looking at had since left his line of sight.

Roman debated, for a moment, whether to speak or to leave him to his own thoughts. After weighing his options, he decided on the latter. He looked to Remus, who had already lunged forward to wrap Deceit in a hug, and had been returned with a shaky hand slowly closed onto his back.

Roman gulped and made his way over. He let his knuckles brush Deceit's as a gentle invitation. Deceit quickly accepted, intertwining their fingers and squeezing tightly.

"Can you feel him?" Deceit's voice was nearly inaudible. "Is he there?"

Roman stared at Deceit's soft profile. A warmth grew in his chest, a feeling that could have been his, but not quite. And it was clear.

"Yes. And he loves you a whole lot."

A ghost of a smile pulled at Deceit's lips.

"I know."

[thrushpot]

in utero

“So, remember those prompts... well, I got more for you. Need 13 and 31, have fun with those two. ;P” requested by @fortheloveofhargrove

#13: “I thought you were dead.”

#31: “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

warnings: ANGST 

—

Billy clicked his tongue and sang along to some mindless catchy tune beneath his breath as he eyed the dark and lonely road ahead of him. The radio was playing something he’d never even heard of before, but he was in a mood so good, so rare that it didn’t even matter. Drives like these were his favorite, when the world would just shut the fuck up for a second and he could run away to fantasy land in peace without any unwelcome intrusions. His right foot eased the gas pedal further down, gradually accelerating in hopes to arrive at his destination early so he could surprise her once she’s off the plane. The blonde boy behind the wheel felt almost as if he’d gotten slapped in the face with nostalgia as he recalled the last conversation he’d had with her before leaving.

Goodbyes were a thing that were never not painful or unsettling. That all too familiar dread of not knowing whether it’ll be the last time he’d see her, hug her, hell; even fucking smell her. As if it happened only yesterday, the boy could still hear the girl’s soft weeping muffled in his chest, can practically feel the way her body moved up and down with each broken sob. It was difficult to see someone usually so fearless, so composed and put together, like some CIA agent from an action flick break down and curl into him for warmth and support. He let a couple (okay, maybe more than a couple) salty tears of his own fall as he held her in his lap.

Y/N had been an irreplaceable constant back in the glory days, her having never broken his trust nor the laundry list of promises she’d sworn once the heartache of his departure had blown over. It was foolish to think that even for a second he could get over the bitterness of starting all over again at some mundane public school. It was also just as foolish to think he could just forget about missing her as the weeks turned to months and the months added up to a year. But that was just another ploy the universe threw his way, seemingly enjoying Billy’s pain and suffering. Tonight though, tonight was gonna be different. He won’t let a single thing overshadow him any longer. He refused to listen to his inner tormentor deep down that laughed whenever he tried rationalizing how he would go about giving his confession, telling her his secret. As Billy goes over the script in his head, he clears his throat and adjusts the rear view mirror to himself as he practices his performance again. Real casual-like, he flashes a smile over at his reflection, pretending it’s her that’s watching.

“Y/N, lookin’ ah, looking good. Beautiful, actually. Know you already got a line of guys tellin’ you this every damn day, but I mean it when I say you somehow get prettier every time I see you. I really missed us hanging out, y’know? Takes me back to all those long nights, and uh... since I left I’ve been thinkin’ a lot...” he licks his lips and thinks back to the lines he’d gone over in his head like clockwork. His face twists into something more down and depressing, like whatever he’s trying to say will only burden their already troubled lives. “Too much, actually. I realize I’ve done almost nothing else worth my fucking time here except think of you whenever I feel shitty or, or like when everything is too much yet not enough. It’s been — been one of the only things I feel has real meaning to it for once, actually makes sense. ‘Cause you get me, and no one ever surprises me unless you do, and ah...” the blushing blonde shakes his head, a stray blonde curl falling to his forehead in the process of scolding himself with a swear before starting over.

“You know what? Fuck this. Let’s just go. We could just fuck off somewhere, go get a couple drinks, have a couple laughs, and... fuck. Shut up, you idiot. Don’t quote Die Hard on her for fuck sake,” he slaps his palm on his face, scoffing at his own stupidity before his eyes grew twice their size realizing how close the airport had become in the distance. He feels the same old doubt return right over his shoulder, and it smirks as if it’s being proven right; that telling her what he feels really is a horrible mistake. That it’s nothing but a rotten idea he’ll regret when she laughs in his face and turns around to fly right back to Santa Monica.

Billy’s heart is practically in his mouth by the time he pays for the ridiculously priced parking ticket and makes his way to the gate. His fucking leg somehow decides to grow a mind of its own, bouncing up and down with urgency while his teeth are occupied with chewing his fingernails down to the nub. He remembers when the roles were reversed once upon a time, when he was on the plane and she was the one agitated while sitting in the airport. Y/N still had that precious pink flush coating her cheeks when he was ready to board his flight, holding onto one of his biceps when she’d whispered something in his ear that had stuck with him:

”Don’t ever forget to remember me, okay?”

When Billy finally opens his eyes back up to the world around him, a herd of exhausted and enthusiastic travelers alike have exited the gate and met their loved ones with tired hugs and kisses. He rubs his pant leg to settle down while eagerly scoping the crowd for her hair or her face. When his wide eyes finally lands on her, the twang in his gut seeps back up to the surface, making Billy helplessly weak in the knees as he throws himself off the chair and into a pose ready for a warm welcome. He flails his arms in the air for her attention and calls out her name with repetition like a nuisance, both careless and unaware of the ruckus he’s stirred in front of all the annoyed families surrounding him. When Y/N had seen it was Billy that was screaming up a storm, her face cracks up into that same shit-eating grin he’s always known and loved then jogs over. The desperate pair reunite in the middle.

“I thought you were dead or something, asswipe! Why didn’t you ever write or call?” Y/N squealed in his arms as he picks her up and spins her around with sloppy grace. Billy bites his lower lip as he puts her down, his hands going down to cup her cheeks with tenderness, as if she were something to be cherished forever, and she is.

“Eh, some things are just better said face-to-face I guess,” he shrugged, giving her cheek a peck before bending over to pick her bags up and swing them effortlessly over his shoulder. As they bicker back and forth like the good old days while making their way to the dark busy parking lot, Billy can say with utter undeniable truth that he genuinely feels all is right with the world again.

—

“I can’t believe I’m even here right now and finally seeing this dump that stole my best friend with my own two eyes. I mean I got like eighty bucks to my name, little to no idea where I’ll stay, but I actually made it!” she hollered, playfully giving the blonde’s ass a painless smack. He reacted with a bashful jump and a laugh, struggling with her bags under pressure. “Can’t wait to see your car again ‘cause man I missed her. Old Martha still runnin’ smooth and pretty, I presume?”

Billy felt breathless as he set her luggage down to the pavement, reaching for his car keys to unlock the trunk before hauling them inside and slamming it closed. He stops to look back at her with a twinkle of mockery in his eye.

“So that’s what you named my car, huh? Martha?” he fact-checks, going over to the passengers side to open it for her, the chivalry he only abided by around her in particular coming back like it never left at all. Like they were still the same confused teenagers first meeting, getting into mischief just to busy their bland, empty agendas. She gives him a half-hearted shrug before explaining.

“Heard it’s good luck to name everything you own, amirite? Plus, you got no right making fun of that name. That’s my aunt’s name, ‘case you forgot stealing all her pot from her sock drawer and smoking it with me at school,” Y/N retorts with a finger pointed at him accusingly. The blonde behind the wheel let’s out a sarcastic ha ha at the memory, starting up the Camaro and backing out as the girl in the passenger’s side messes with the radio. The fond memories have flooded back almost uncontrollably; he can’t wait to make more, even if they only had tonight.

“In our defense that’s a shitty place to hide all that dope, alright? And uh, pretty sure that’s with boats. You name a boat and that gives you good luck. Not a car, you fuckin’ genius.”

Her face scrunches up in thought as if that’s the most mind-boggling thing she’s ever heard, and it ruins Billy with how fucking cluelessly perfect the facial expression is. He watches with intent as she snaps out of it in a hurry. “What you just said makes literally no sense, but I’ll ignore the ridicule and cut to the chase, Bilbo. What is it you’ve been up to without me or the beach? Gone insane yet?” she teased the last part in his ear, putting a hand on his right shoulder and giving it a squeeze. It takes Billy a moment to try and get used to how normal this really is, being touched by her, and he’d nearly forgotten that she’ll give any guy with a heartbeat the exact same treatment. Billy wasn’t an exception, and surely he wasn’t the first guy to get butterflies either.

With a clear of his throat, he throws back on his social mask for stability before shaking his head, the disbelief out in the open within his tone. “Are you fucking kidding, Smalls? ‘Course I did. What good is anywhere or anything when it doesn’t involve you or the goddamn beach?” Billy finished, finding his way onto the main road and putting the airport in his rear view. The driver thinks back two years prior and reminisced on all the adventures they had in Santa Monica before the inevitable happened. He fixed his hair absentmindedly (maybe even a little self-consciously) before reluctantly rambling on under his breath about what’s been ruined since he got taken away from paradise.

“Not a lot goes on ‘round here. Seriously. Place reaks like cowshit, haven’t met anyone worth my time. Max doesn’t seem to think so though, I guess. She’s even made more friends than me. Like... sure, I found this group of jackasses that worship me for knowin’ how to hold my booze, but I haven’t found anything like what we had. Not even close.” Billy swallows, looking back up to the rear view mirror like how he practiced on the way over. It isn’t the same, and he feels too vulnerable saying anything like that out loud with her sitting right fucking there. So he does what any man in the right mind would do, and reacts to his fear, his doubt. He backs down and changes the subject without looking in her direction to see her face. The boy faked a chuckle, an unconvincing one, then keeps his eyes on the road so he doesn’t fucking crash them.

“Tried to liven things up a little, but it’s so goddamn boring, y’know? So uh, anyway, that’s... yeah.”

It starts off sounding so pitiful, then it ends so fucking weak and pathetic. The blonde foolishly hoped and hoped, knowing he could do it, could put everything into English and say it. But he can’t. It gets stuck on his tongue, stuck like a gross aftertaste of something he can’t get rid of. It stings.

He feels his other leg not pressed on the gas physically twitch when the girl beside him puts a palm on his lap to soothe him of imaginary worries. Her eyes were practically scraping to get inside his soul and have it be her own place to call home when he merely glanced at her. It took an enormous amount of will power not giving in to the temptation, but he pulls it off by distracting himself with views of the dark road ahead.

“Yeah, also uh, my old man won’t know you came here for me. I made sure of it. We’ve got all night to catch up,” he ended on a high note, now finding himself grin at all the possibilities awaiting as the girl now has taken to copying him by eyeballing the lifeless scenery out the window that is Hawkins.

After a hasty moment, she hums to acknowledge him and follows it up with a soft, somewhat unsure murmur. “That’s good. Great, actually. I um, I got lots of shit to fill you in on, and I mean a lot, but... anyways, it’s not important. Fuck. Hey, there any places to eat ‘round here? I’m starving,” she finished with glee, deciding to ditch the mood-killing approach at telling him what had happened to her while he was gone.

The blonde hums as he threw a smile at the road, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in excitement, back in the groove. He had just overreacted, that’s all. Their evening didn’t have to depend on what she said back. He could tell her later on and be at peace whether or not she reciprocated his longing for more.

“Alright. Well uh, lucky for you, Smalls, I know just the right place for us. Get ready for the baddest burgers in this shit town, ‘kay?”

Y/N let out a snort after holding her breath a beat too long, shoving her partner’s shoulder before gluing her eyes to the road.

—

“... So then I’m running as fast as I possibly can to get outta there before this fat guy could catch me, he even threatened me with a goddamn gun. Surprisingly he was really fast, too, alright. Like — like The Flash fast. ‘Coulda almost beat ‘em too, but right after I’m rushing to hop this fence, I jump too high and lose my grip. The ground really knows how to whoop my ass,” Billy snorted as he incessantly raved about the shit pot he’d stirred. After trespassing private property not only on a school night, but also at four in the morning. “Oh, also landed right on the money maker,” he smirked, gesturing towards his face with a French fry covered in ketchup between his fingers. “I think I lost a tooth while I was at it, too.”

“Fucking A, Billy! Dude, to be fair, from the sound of it you really got what you deserved,” Y/N pointed out while marveling at his male idiocracy, a goofy scowl plastered on her face as she shook her head back and fourth. She dropped the napkin she’d crumbled up in her palms to her half-empty plate of a classic diner burger and the French fries that Billy had no shame in picking at. He nodded while looking like he was proud of the chaos he’d created, taking his partner’s Cherry-Vanilla Coke and slurping the remaining sip through the straw. He hadn’t had an appropriate moment to give telling her their situation another try, but he’s content with the comfortable familiarity of exchanging both horrific and grotesque stories in each other’s absence. It felt like slipping on an old pair of boots that still fit somehow, still felt good to wear and walk around in, and he wasn’t willing to unlace them or take them off quite yet.

“Yeah yeah, what goes around comes around. I know. Speaking of which, you uh, you got any news to tell me?” the boy asked suspiciously, recalling how their only topic of conversation all night had been solely regarding his whereabouts and only vague answers coming from her. “I know you weren’t up to any good either, Smalls. Pretty hard to deny, what with our reputations and all.” he grinned, pulling a nearly empty pack of Menthols and sticking one on his lip, signaling their waitress for the check with a hand gesture. Y/N’s face twists into something worrisome, brows knitted, lip bit, arms crossed like she wanted to disappear. She was hiding something.

The uneasiness doesn’t rest lightly on the boy’s shoulders at her expression, and thankfully their waitress has great timing and clears their table of their finished goods.

“Can we talk outside, maybe? Or, or just go— just go somewhere where we can —“

Billy scrambled to assure her that her wish was his command, breaking whatever unwelcome tension with a helpful hand on her shoulder. “Of course, Smalls. You don’t know where you’re staying tonight, right?”

A watery smile spreads on her small face, a slight shake of the head that says no, I’ve had no idea where the fuck to stay every night for months, dipshit.

“Look, I have a plan for you, okay? Got you money for a room at this motel not very far, I’ll take care of you.” he swore, unzipping his jacket and covering her back with it as the frosty air nipped their cheeks on the way outside. The moon glowed in the sky, acting like a night light for them as they approached Old Martha, cranking the heat in as soon as they were both safe inside.

The pair sit in silence, the boy unaware of what’s changed or made her stiffen up; the girl unaware of how she’ll confess something that only a select few know and have already judged.

“Now what— no, who the hell is it that made you this upset, huh?” he threatens to the unknown source of his best friend’s pain, already getting revved up to fly back home and settle this out with his fists. Their destinated motel only a mile away and seatbelts not even fastened.

“I’ve — I’ve been keeping something from you.”

Billy blinks stupidly and throws his hands off the steering wheel and in the air. Could this be it? Could it mean the same thing as him keeping something from her? Nothing is getting answered fast enough, and he’s so sick of waiting. “Okay? And what the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/N chews her bottom lip and rests her elbow on the door, her palm now gathering the dramatic beads of sweat from her forehead. “It means I’ve got a reputation; you know, I know, the whole fucking population of Santa Monica knows, Billy! You don’t need to act dumb, okay, it isn’t cute anymore.”

The driver squints in utter bewilderment, finally pushing the brake with impatience, making them bounce forward at the sudden stop. The Camaro sits outside the motel as droplets of rain grow heavier and louder as it pecks on the windows. It could almost drown out the feeling of intensity in the small space.

The blonde pinched the bridge of his nose like an irritated diva, pairing that with a seemingly apathetic eye roll. “I was only kidding back there about that shit. You know I don’t believe that nonsense about you... sleepin’ around or whatever, okay. I only believe you. I trust your word over those assholes and their tendency of spreading fucked up lies about any girl in school, ‘kay?”

Y/N felt on the brink of a drastic explosion, going as far as to open the window and sticking her head outside to feel the raindrops pool around her face, tickling her with its’ gentleness.

“Hey, get your head back in here. You’re gonna catch a cold, and then you’ll have to fly back home sick tomorrow, alright, so could we just cut the charade and talk like adults—” Billy’s reprimand was interrupted by Y/N’s surprising outburst.

“I don’t have a home anymore!” she screeched, yanking her head back inside and flipping her wet hair out of her face before crossing her arms stubbornly. “It was taken away from me. Got kicked out ‘cause of my reputation,” she trailed off as he turned his head to the side in concern mixed with confusion, his jaw wide enough to catch flies. Before spitting another useless question at her, he swallowed with unstoppable nerve and cautiously reached over to her door and roll the window back up.

“Smalls, I’m — I’m fucking sorry. So sorry. But right now all’s I wanna do is get you nice and dry. Cozy too, and in our own space with no one to bother us or... or even kick us out. I’m gonna get your bags, we’ll go fetch a room, and then continue this by then, okay?” he whispered, finding his fingers had gotten wet while delicately petting her damp locks. Her lips wiggled like she was gonna blow into tears any second, and he really hated the sight, but whoever was responsible in making her homeless was gonna be sorry they ever caused someone as close to Billy as she was so much pain.

The rain came down and soaked the blonde’s hair, color fading to a chestnut brown under the weather as he fumbled with his keys to get into the trunk as fast as possible. Her bags weren’t the lightest, but it must’ve been nearly all her belongings if she didn’t have a home anymore. They rested like rocks on his back and in his grasp as he gave Y/N the signal to hurry out as to not get any more drenched than her face had already become. Billy spits on the pavement before counting down from three on his fingers, and as soon as he got to one she was out and flailing in the rain with him, both eager to get warmth and shelter. Some giggles were even shared as they cringed feeling their clothes sticking to their bodies before finally making it inside.

The guy behind the counter wasn’t amused by their boisterous entrance, but they couldn’t find it in them to feel bad. After getting themselves a room key, they forced themselves to put a hault on their dispute for now, just like pressing the pause button on a TV remote; Billy rubbing her lower back in the elevator once he’d set her luggage down and Y/N leaning further into him as tears threatened to wilt out of her. Finding room 1408 thankfully wasn’t like a game of Where’s Waldo, and they’d both gotten comfortable quickly in the tidy space. The boy had set her things down as she fled to the restroom. He’d taken to counting all the shapes he could make out on the tacky wallpaper and got stopped at number fifty-eight. Y/N emerged from the bathroom much drier yet back in a similar state as before; frightened and uncomfortable. Taking action, he threw himself off the King sized bed and took her into his embrace.

“You’re safe with me, you do realize that, right?” he muttered, trying his hardest to keep it together like the broken girl in his arms. She trembled in a way that said she didn’t know she was safe, like she still felt wrong. In one swift movement, she shoved him backward and left him stumbling in ignorance and hurt, barely giving him a warning before she finally snapped.

“It’s true what those boys said about me, what I did with them. You would’ve known that by now if you had a goddamn brain instead of this... this giant heart of a puppy,” she cradled her head in guilt and shame for everything coming from her mouth, stepping back and avoiding his eyes all together. “I slept with the basketball team, the football team, even the fucking tennis club! You name it, I’ve fucked it. You know what’s crazy about this, other than the amount?” she asked rhetorically, her voice winding down to a broken whisper.

Billy feels his eyes well up and he doesn’t put energy into stopping it. There are veins bulging, flaming up in places he hadn’t even known he had. He recalls all the side eyed looks from the boys while he walked down the halls with her, when he’d ditch to smoke her aunt’s dope with her, or in class laughing with her. They weren’t ogling him because they thought they’d be a cute couple. They were laughing at him in silence because he was whipped for Santa Monica’s school skank.

“I don’t regret all of it; well, all but one. You, you remember Chris Hooker, he was your runner up? Chris fucking idolized you, Billy. He wanted to be like you so bad that... he thought one way of being like you was to get with me. And I let him after you left, I was so lonely that I’d do just about anything to cover up the shitstorm of losing you; and if that meant fucking this guy that always dressed like you and acted like you all the time— then so be it.” Y/N shrugged, trying to wipe the endless waterfall of tears as she watched Billy break too.

“You... you didn’t—“ he tried to deny, shaking his head and mimicking her by cradling his head in his hands as he walked in circles back and fourth, not believing anything he’s hearing. She sniffled and rubbed her nose with her sleeve before coming closer to him, looking him in the eye the first time since her confession begun.

“It happened, and I’ve never been this sorry about anything in my life, Billy. In fact, I even said sorry to him, ‘cause I couldn’t take care of it or even myself after he knocked me up and turned my life into this, this total hellhole—“

“You got kicked out because they found out,” Billy mumbles when he came to the realization, staring as if he were hypnotized by the painting of an angel hung up on the wall behind her. “They found out that you got pregnant, then you got rid of it... so they ended up punishing you.”

Y/N clung to him tighter before confirming with an uneasy nod, a sob escaping and tearing through her as she got red.

“I never named it, so I guess it didn’t bring good luck, remember?” she reminded him of their previous conversation when she first landed, stroking his arms up and down with tenderness. “You um, you missed a part of the story actually, a really important one.”

The blonde recoiled from his partner and scrubbed his arms in hysteria, feeling hopeless and weak and like all his doubt had fed to his brain was right. He wasn’t an exception. He wasn’t the good guy, he was just another guy going nuts for the same girl everybody else in their entire class ever did.

“Stop it! Stop hurting yourself, Billy, this is my fault. I should’ve told you sooner that—“

“What? What’s left to say now?”

“That I—“

”WHAT?” his fists were clenched and thick at his sides, the jealousy and the disgust overtaking him and fueling a fire that hadn’t started over night.

“That I love you!” she had shouted, both of them spiraling out of the devastating tornado of abandonment and lies, now joining together in the middle; mirroring their warm welcome at the airport just hours before. Billy’s fingers shoved her by her hips so that they were skin-to-skin as he finally went in for the kiss all the guys back home already knew but he himself had never gotten to experience. They were both gone, desperate for their touches and their actions to say everything they’d wanted to say. The apologies, the love, the hurt. She tasted lovely on his tongue, and he waited for the need to breathe to become nearly unbearable before even thinking of pulling away. Their mouths made a smacking sound as their lips left eachothers, making Billy let out a helpless, weak in the knees sounding moan.

“And to finish the missing part, um... I can’t keep kissing random strangers pretending that they’re you,” she whispers in his ear, bashfully coming back down from her tippy-toes right after giving a playful nibble to his ear and a warm kiss on the cheek. Billy thinks back to his alone time talking in the mirror, all the things he said and wrote down, practiced for this very moment. Like clockwork, he spouts the rehearsed lines out that felt like daggers holding inside.

“Smalls... since I’ve been gone, ah... all’s I’ve done is nearly nothing worth my time except, only except thinking of you when I feel like everything is a lot. And also like everything was never really enough. It’s like one of the only things I feel like has meaning to it for once. ‘Cause you get me, I get you. No one ever surprises me unless you do. And I fucking love you even more, Y/N, and I’d like to make you forget. Forget about those dicks, forget about your parents. You’re with me from here on out, you understand? Smalls?” he opens his eyes to see her doing that thing again, where she scrapes into his soul and nests inside, makes it a home for herself. It makes him melt in all the right and wrong ways imaginable.

“I understand.”

[alpacannot]

So, I made some miniscule changes to the first chapter, mainly introducing Tris’s two dogs (Marlow, her Alaskan Malamute, and Blake, her Siberian Husky), working them into the story more, and editing a few things, but here’s the rest of chapter 1 (also unedited)!

“See you tonight!” he called out as he all but skipped through the doors. I sighed as I watched him leave—we’d been inseparable during school, but I felt like I hardly ever saw him anymore. He lived across the hall, but with my hours, I was always working during his free time. By some stroke of luck, he was assigned to me after we both graduated. We had resigned ourselves to the reality that we would basically never see each other again, so we were both overjoyed to discover that we would be working together—of course, that glee was short lived. Aside for the occasional dinner together, work kept us apart.

Thumbing through the background information, I began determining initial judgements for today’s Reapings. Live, Limbo, Heaven, Limbo, Live, Hell, the list went on a on, and I scribbled down a note on the tops of their files. Of course, HR would determine exactly what part of the Afterlife they went to—those in Limbo had the option to work here instead of spending the rest of their lives fading away in the realm in between Heaven and Hell. Depending on your beliefs, sometimes those destined for Heaven had to work off a debt with their deity, and they were sent here as well—usually as Runners. HR sorted the rest into the right parts of Heaven and Hell, where their respective gods and goddesses would take care of the rest. In comparison, my job was easy: if their time was up, I looked at what they’d done in life and decided if they deserved to continue living. After all the office work was done, it was my job to go collect their souls. Sometimes mistakes are made—Reapers are given the wrong file, we’re interrupted, or someone on Earth intervenes. Other complications can arise during someone’s life, but the outcome is always the same: if someone on Earth becomes aware of the Afterlife prematurely, their soul is immediately harvested, and they come to work here. Through some cruel twist of fate, that’s exactly how I ended up in this particular hellish cycle.

Before long, all the necessary paperwork was done, and I began to gather my things in preparation for crossing over to Earth. Grabbing my clipboard, several death certificates, and a pen, I stuffed everything into my bag, snatching up my keycard on my way out. With Blake and Marlow helping me along, I slowly made my way to the exit, waiting for security to check my bag. Scanning my keycard, I glanced at today’s route. I’d be jumping all over the the Mid-Atlantic area today, starting in Pennsylvania. I fastened the buttons of my coat, gritting my teeth as I braced myself for the icy wind. The door in front of me opened, revealing nothing but an empty black abyss. Steeling my nerves, I stepped into the oppressing darkness, feeling the weight on my chest pushing against me. This part is always the worst.

After what seemed like an eternity of fighting against the inky black tar, I forced my way through the veil and onto Earth. The frigid wind bit at my cheeks, and I clenched my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. It was always a huge shock to go from the climate-controlled office to the real world. Forcing my frozen fingers to open my bag, I pulled out my clipboard, checking for my first stop. I unhooked Blake and Marlow, letting them run free until work was done—I would need them to support me later. Putting the address into my phone, I began the short walk through downtown Johnstown. The sidewalks were full of people on their way back to work after lunch, and I quietly slipped between the crowds.

It didn’t take me long to find little Bethany Jones, playing happily outside. Her mother bustled in the kitchen, busy fixing lunch for the two of them. My heart clenched. I hate this part. I moved closer to Bethany, reaching out for her. Make it painless. I grabbed her shoulder, pulling her soul out in one fluid motion. Cradling her now limp body, I felt a warm tear run down my cheek. Turning to face the new shade, I forced myself to put on a brave face. “It’s gonna’ be okay. I promise,” I murmured to her. Gently laying her cooling corpse on the grass, I took her hand and led her to the nearest Afterlife office. I drug her away from her old house, trying to block out the wailing of her mother and hold on to the struggling child.

*********

There were so many children today. I’ve never collected that many young souls, I thought. Marlow nuzzled my shoulder, and I buried my face in his thick fur. A sharp knock echoed through my apartment, and Blake ran over to paw and whine at the door. PJ pushed his way through, coming to sit next to me on the couch. “Rough day?” he asked.

“There were so many children,” I moaned. “Almost all of them.” I felt him shift uncomfortably.

“I know,” he sighed. He traced soothing circles around my calf, knowing there was nothing he could say. “I’ll make us something to eat.” I wanted to protest, but he knew as well as I did that today had been one of the worst days I’d had since I’d come here. I hated that suddenly everything was about me, but I couldn’t block out the wailing of those poor kids’ mothers.

“Peej, why were there so many kids today?” He stopped opening the cupboards and turned towards me.

“I don’t know.” He deflated, and I moved towards him, his arms gently cradling me. “We could ask Alex,” he murmured. “He might know more, being so high up.” I weakly nodded. Blake nudged my leg, and I leaned against her warm, stable body. I slumped into a barstool.

“So, tell me about this new prospect of yours. Anyone we know?” I was desperately trying to move on to a more light-hearted subject. PJ lit up like a Christmas tree.

“I’m not sure if you’d know him—I think he might be a transfer from another branch. He came to give me a Summons yesterday, and he was totally flirting with me.”

“Well, what’s his name?”

“Chris Kendall.” I choked.

“Peej, we know Chris. He’s totally straight.”

“What? No way! He was totally coming on to me yesterday—he even winked at me when he passed by this morning. I know queer, and Chris is definitely it.”

“I’m pretty sure your gay-day needs recalibrated. I know he was dating Christine this time last year.” I hated to burst his bubble, but it was better than seeing him get his heart broken again.

“Say what you will, but I don’t believe you. I never saw them together.”

“PJ, they went to your department’s Christmas party together last year.”

“I’m pretty sure I would have noticed him if he’d been there.” I sighed, exasperated, and gave up, putting my hands up in a gesture of surrender.

“Just you wait, Tristan Sieghard. Come the next Christmas party, you’ll be seeing him on my arm.”

“Alright, alright. You’re the boss.”

“And don’t you forget it,” he said, sticking his tongue out at me.

*********

By the time PJ and I had finished catching up, I was exhausted. I’d been emotionally drained all day, but I all but collapsed into my bed when we finally called it a night. I curled up under the covers, relishing in their warmth. Marlow and Blake settled in next to me, and I closed my eyes, hoping for a peaceful night’s rest.

I didn’t get it.

The soothing hum of Alistair’s voice lulled in the background of my thoughts. It was a beautiful day, and the walk back home from school with my brother was always a source of joy.

“Do you have any homework?” he asked.

“Not much—just a math worksheet and my cursive practice book.”

“Want to rent a movie? Blockbuster’s right over there.”

“Only if I get to pick.”

“You always do,” he laughed, ruffling my hair. I playfully stuck my tongue out at him, as I started to cross the street.

“Tris, look out!” He shouted, reaching for me. I turned to see what he was yelling about, but the scquealing tires told me everything I needed to know.

[emospritelet]

KoL! Prompt! - "I'm sorry, that came out wrong."

What better prompt to use when Gold finally decides to ask Belle out?

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] {Part 22]

AO3 link

The next day dawned cold, crisp and bright, and Gold decided to walk into town to arrange the Secret Santa present for Belle.  He smiled a little as he walked; he had two days off work, and much to his surprise was looking forward to it. Usually he hated being away from the hospital, but concentrating on a gift for Belle was a pleasant distraction.  The gifts weren’t due to be handed out until Christmas Eve, and he was hoping that he would have the time to make the arrangements that he wanted by then.

Now that he had decided he would definitely be asking her to go out, he felt a little calmer.  Initially the realisation that he had strong feelings for her was unexpected and almost terrifying, but he had come to terms with the fact that since he had met her, his life had changed dramatically, and would never be the same again.  He was okay with that.

There was still the issue of whether she would say yes, but Ruby’s words had given him encouragement, and so he decided to ask her when they were next on shift together.  Dinner. He would ask her out for dinner. Or possibly coffee, but at Granny’s, not at the cafeteria. Coffee was enough to start with. But then would she just think he was being friendly, rather than asking her out romantically?  Dinner. It would have to be dinner. He wouldn’t bother with the flowers this time, though. That seemed like tempting fate. If she said yes, he could bring her flowers on the date.

He took his time with the walk as he pondered his next move, enjoying the chirps and squawks of the few birds that saw out the winter in Maine, and nodding to the people that passed him.  His feet led him to the Town Hall, and he gave his name at the front desk before being asked to go on through to the Mayor’s office.

Regina Mills was dark-haired and lovely, the picture of stylish efficiency in her tailored suit and designer shoes.  He had long admired her taste, and the two of them had a reasonably amicable relationship, developed over several years of him patching up her son Henry, who had a tendency to be accident-prone. She looked up from behind her desk, setting down her pen and giving him a brief, red-lipped smile.

“Madam Mayor,” he said pleasantly.  “Compliments of the season. You’re looking very well.”

“Dr Gold,” she said.  “Please tell me my son hasn’t been in need of your care again.”

“Not this week,” he said.  “Although you may want to consider dressing the boy in bubble-wrap.”

Regina sniffed.

“Believe me, Emma and I have already had this conversation,” she said dryly. “What can I do for you?”

Gold smiled.

“Do you remember when I put you in touch with that adoption agency in Boston?” he said.  “And when I promised to get a friend of mine to consider your application before anyone else’s?  I believe that resulted in you adopting Henry. And later meeting the love of your life.”

“Yes,” said Regina suspiciously.  “I told you I owed you one, as I recall.”

“Ah.”  His grin widened.  “You do remember.”

Regina rolled her eyes.

“Okay,” she sighed.  “What do you want?”

“Oh, it’s not for me as such,” he said.  “It’s something the whole town would thank you for.  It would create a lot of goodwill this festive season.  And with it being election year soon I just thought—”

“Yes, yes!” she snapped.  “You’ve made your point. I’m feeling in a generous mood, so just tell me what it is you want and I’ll see what I can do.”

Gold smiled, and stepped closer to the desk.  Perhaps this would be easier than he thought.

x

Belle hurried to the locker room, sighing as she changed her shoes for heavy boots and pulled on her coat.  She smiled at Dorothy, coming on shift as she was leaving, and held up the copy of the hospital calendar she had been given.  The contents had been a pleasant surprise, although she had to admit that she’d spent far longer staring at the month of December than was healthy.

“The moment of truth, huh?” she said.  “I think we look pretty good. Jefferson says they’re selling like hot cakes.  He’s had requests for orders from all over the country!”

“Yeah, I think those friends of his gave some free publicity,” said Dorothy, with a grin.  “Suits me: his other fundraising option was a bake sale, and I’m not that great a cook.”

“Oh, I think that’s still going ahead,” said Belle.  “After the New Year, though.”

“In that case I’ll limit my participation to buying and eating other people’s creations,” she said.  “Showing my ass seems to be way less painless. For all concerned.”

Belle giggled, pulling a hat down over her hair.

“I’m hoping the townsfolk are gonna be reasonably discreet,” she said.  “I don’t care if some guy I never heard of wants to put the calendar on his wall, but I’m not sure my dad needs to know about his daughter taking her clothes off for charity.”

“It’s for a good cause,” said Dorothy dismissively.  “Hey, did you get your Secret Santa gift yet? You know we’re giving them out tomorrow, right?”

Belle sighed.

“Yeah,” she said morosely.  “I’m not sure I got the right thing.  It’s been a nightmare trying to think of something that’s meaningful and yet doesn’t cost more than thirty bucks.”

“It’s Secret Santa,” said Dorothy patiently.  “It doesn’t have to be meaningful.”

Belle shrugged, and Dorothy pursed her lips as she grabbed a pair of clean scrubs.

“Hey, did you see Gold today?”

“No, he’s not working until tomorrow,” said Belle.  “Why?”

“Oh, no reason.  Just asking. Is Whale in, then?”

“Whale’s there now, Jefferson’s in later,” confirmed Belle, grabbing her purse and closing her locker.  “See you tomorrow?”

“Count on it.”

She headed out, shivering as she stepped into the bitter wind, and hurried home.  Coloured lights twinkled from the houses she passed, lifting her spirits as she shuffled through the snow, but when she reached the small house that she shared with her father, it was dark except for a single light in the lounge.  Belle’s mouth flattened. He hadn’t switched the Christmas tree lights on. Again. Feeling her festive spirit drain away, she opened the door and went inside.

“It’s only me!” she called, and heard a grunt from the lounge over the sound of the TV.

Rolling her eyes, she struggled out of her coat and hat and tugged off her boots, exchanging them for soft sheepskin booties and heading to the kitchen. Her father clearly hadn’t started anything for dinner, and Belle huffed in exasperation. Guess I’m cooking again, then.  One glance in the fridge made her frown.  Cans of beer filled one of the shelves, the remainder being taken up by eggs, bacon and a block of cheese.  She sighed to herself and shut the door,wandering through to the lounge. Moe was slumped in his usual chair with a beer can resting on his belly, eyes fixed on the TV screen.  Belle put her hands on her hips.

“I thought you were buying something for dinner,” she said, and he glanced around.

“You said you would.”

“No, I said I couldn’t because I was working,” she snapped.  “The flower shop is right next to the store! I notice you bought beer, so you managed that.”

“Don’t be a bloody nag,” he groused.  “Just order a pizza or something.”

“We had pizza last night.”

“So we’ll have it again!” he said impatiently, and gestured at the TV.  “I’m trying to watch this! Just order a damn pizza and get me another beer!”

Huffing in exasperation, Belle stomped through to the kitchen again.  I really, REALLY need to get my own place!

x

The next day she was up before Moe as usual, but still later than she would have liked, so she had to rush to cook their breakfast.  He stomped into the kitchen with a bleary look in his eyes, nodding to her as she pushed eggs and bacon towards him.

“I’m working this afternoon, so could you pick up the turkey and the things for Christmas dinner?” she said, when they were almost done.  “Everything’s ordered and paid for, you just need to collect it from the store.”

“Alright.”  Moe looked at her, chewing his bacon.  “What time are you back tonight?”

“Oh, not until eight or so,” she said.  “Can you see to yourself until then?”

“Guess I’ll have to,” he said sourly.  “I’ll go to Granny’s, have a drink with the guys.”

“Okay.”

Inwardly she heaved a sigh of relief.  It meant that he probably wouldn’t be home until late, and she could have an evening of relative peace and quiet preparing the Christmas dinner.  Moe shoved the last bit of bacon into his mouth, following it with a swallow of coffee and pushing away his plate.

“Better get to the shop,” he said, shoving back his chair.  “I’ll see you later, love.”

He sauntered off to pull on his boots and coat, and Belle frowned at the dirty dishes.  Guess I’m doing those, huh?

She took a shower once she was done with cleaning up, brushing her clean hair until it shone and putting on a dark green dress that showed off her pale skin.  The addition of some red lipstick made her feel almost festive as she swirled the skirt in front of the mirror, and she smiled to herself. Her gift for the Secret Santa exchange was wrapped, and she looked it over, chewing her lip before putting it in her bag.  She hadn’t been sure whether it was an appropriate gift, but there wasn’t anything else she could think of that wasn’t hopelessly generic.

It was a sunny day, if cold, and she turned her face up to feel what warmth the sun could send as she made her way to the hospital along the main road out of town.  Her phone ringing made her stop, and she dug in her bag, frowning a little as she saw the number of the flower shop flash up.

“Belle?” barked her father, before she had even had time to answer.  “What the bloody hell do you think you’re playing at?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, bewildered.

“Don’t you bloody play coy with me, my girl!” he snapped.  “What do you think I’m talking about? Were you planning on telling me you’d decided to take your clothes off for money?”

Belle groaned.  The calendar.  Great. Well, I guess it was too good to last.

“It’s for charity,” she said shortly.  “And it’s not like I did a bloody Playboy centrefold!  I think it’s very tasteful.”

“Tasteful my arse!  I just had to put up with bloody Miss Ginger holding it up and telling me this is what happens when a daughter has no mother to keep her on the straight and narrow!”

“The day I care about what Miss Ginger thinks of me it’ll be snowing in hell,” said Belle tartly.  “That woman could find fault with a bloody saint!”

“Why didn’t you damn well tell me you were doing this?” he demanded.

“Because I’m an adult, and it’s my body and I’ll do what I damn well please with it!” she returned hotly.  “Why do you even care? There are eleven other people in that calendar and I don’t see you complaining about them!”

“None of them are my daughter!”

“I posed for a nice picture of my butt so the hospital could save towards a CAT scan,” she said, exasperated.  “Somehow I think your reputation will survive. I’ll see you later.  Don’t forget to pick up the food, okay?”

“Don’t you think I have enough to do in this shop?” he snapped.  “I have to cope in this place alone and you want me to run bloody errands for you?  What did your last slave die of?”

“If you want a Christmas dinner tomorrow, you’ll have to pick up the bloody turkey!” she retorted.  “I can’t be in two places at once!  Alternatively we’ll just eat bacon and bloody eggs all day and you can edge closer to that heart attack the doctors keep warning you about!  Your choice!”

She didn’t wait for his response, hanging up with a huff of indignation and striding off towards the hospital entrance.   Bloody man!

x

Gold was able to collect Belle’s Secret Santa gift on the morning of Christmas Eve, and had had to make a detour back home to wrap it before heading to the hospital for his shift that afternoon.  He had bought a little something extra to go with it, which he thought was fitting, and he placed everything in a narrow box and wrapped it up with shining green paper, tied with gold ribbon and a single tag with Merry Christmas Belle x written on it.  He had decided, after much deliberation, that he would ask her out before the gifts were exchanged; he didn’t want her to feel obliged to say yes, after all.  There was no one in the break room when he entered, and he set the box with the other gifts already under the small tree, slipping out and heading for the ward to start his rounds.

He was mentally running over what he wanted to say to Belle in his head, the words repeating in a loop of what sounded to him like something forced and awkward.  Belle, we’ve been friends for awhile now, and I’d like to take the next step, if you’re willing.  I wondered if you might consider having dinner with me on Friday evening.  He said it over and over in his head, in the hope that it would sound natural when he managed to verbalise it.

He was so busy repeating it to himself like a mantra that he barely noticed the object of his desire approaching, and almost bumped into her.  Belle was carrying a jug of water in one hand, and it sloshed alarmingly. She put her hand on his forearm with a giggle, blue eyes sparkling.

“Whoa there!” she said.  “Are you okay? You looked as though you were miles away.”

Gold smiled at her a little tremulously, feeling as though his tongue had cleaved to the roof of his mouth.  His script, so easy to repeat in his mind mere seconds ago, appeared to have evaporated into the ether, and he could only stare at her.

“Belle,” he said.  “Uh - hi.”  Great.  Great start.  I suppose at least you got her bloody name right, you loser.

“Hi!” she said brightly.  “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m - I’m very well,” he said, wanting to punch himself in the face with something.  “You?”

“Good!” she said.  “I saw the calendar, by the way.  I thought the pictures turned out great, what about you?”

“I - yes.”  He tried to ignore the image of Belle that had just pushed its way into his head.  “Yes, I thought you looked - okay.”  Okay?  Okay, you moron? She’s a fucking goddess, what is wrong with you?  Okay, my sainted backside…

Belle looked as though he’d spat in her face, blinking rapidly.

“Right,“ she said thinly.  "Uh - thanks.  I guess.”

“I’m - I’m sorry,” he said, wishing he had just sent her a bloody letter or something.  "I’m sorry, that came out wrong.“

"It’s okay,” she assured him.  "Really.“

There was a moment of awkward silence, and Gold wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.  She glanced down at the jug of water in her hands.

"Right,” she said again.  “Well, I was about to—”

“Of course,” he said quickly.  “I won’t be a moment, it’s just - there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?”

He tried to grasp at the words he had carefully constructed in his mind, the right words with which to ask her out, but his brain had run off on gleeful tangents, eagerly pushing inappropriate suggestions at him.  She was gazing up at him with those wide blue eyes, and he was tempted to take the jug of water from her hands and empty it over his head.

“Right,” he said.  “Uh - Belle, you - you know we’ve been friends for awhile now…”

He trailed off, hesitating, and she tilted her head to the side a little, her brow furrowing with mild curiosity.

“And,” he managed.  “And I wanted - I mean I wondered - uh - no, I mean I’d like—”

“Belle!”

Astrid’s sharp voice cut him off, and he stood there opening and closing his mouth, momentarily mute.  Belle turned to face Astrid, who had almost sprinted down the corridor towards them.

“Oh, thank goodness!” she gasped breathlessly, skidding to a halt.  “It’s your dad! They found him collapsed in the shop!  Suspected heart attack!  They’re bringing him in now!”

Belle had clapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock and fear.

“Heart attack?” asked Gold, a medical emergency returning the gift of speech to his parched throat.  “I’ll come with you.”

“Dr Whale’s there,” said Astrid, shaking her head at him as she handed him the jug of water.  “I just came to get Belle.”

She put an arm around Belle, who shot him a brief, frightened look and allowed herself to be led away at a brisk pace.  He stared after them, holding the water jug in his hand and feeling helpless.

Well, said his subconscious, with an air of satisfaction that made him want to scream.  You blew it.

[667-darkavenue]

young legends die all the time (part two.)

allurance gang au. heads up for mention of blood and injuries.

read part one here

or read the whole thing on ao3 here

The next day, Allura introduced him to Shiro—The friendly neighborhood paladin that everyone and their mother knew, idolized by all the boys on this side of town. Lance’s first assignment was to shadow him, learn the ropes from him. It felt like being promoted from valet guy to vice president.

Just from trailing behind Shiro, Lance became a somebody overnight. Everybody seemed to know him. And they treated him like... well, pretty hot shit. He didn’t wait in line for a bagel and coffee in the deli anymore. The owner knew who he was with and he’d beckon Lance out of the queue, right up to the counter. He memorized Lance’s order and made sure he was taken care of first, every single morning. The neighbors didn’t park in his family’s space anymore, even though Lance’s family didn’t have a car at the moment. One day, some random kids carried his mother’s groceries all the way home for her.

It felt amazing. And it was all because of the royal family. The people of the city knew Lance was one cog in the system that kept them taken care of. Serving the royal family was serving everyone. Paladins got more love than the cops.

Things escalated quickly on the job, though. Lance found out that he could kill. And that killing could feel fine.

Lance’s first kill was a cop who’d been acquitted three times for the murders of three different teenagers of color. He hit the target in one shot. Quick, clean, possibly painless. Even on these so-called “dirty” assignments, Lance felt like a guardian angel. When reported back to Allura, she cupped his face and kissed his cheek.

Most businesses depended on the royal family’s protection from criminals that came from the bad side of the city. So, Alfor got tributes from everyone living on the nice side of town.

In what seemed like no time at all, Lance was making more money than both his parents. The money freed them from exploitative jobs and worrying about bills and taking the subway to work. They could stay home, cook five meals a day, and take care of the grandkids.

The icing on top of this fantastic cake? He got to see his favorite person most days and nights! After enough time paying his dues and proving his chops, Shiro put a good word in for Lance. He got promoted from grunt to personal driver. “Driver,” however, was a loose title that didn’t encapsulate most parts of the job.

Allura was untouchable. As her driver, it was Lance’s responsibility to make sure that remained an unbreakable fact. Stay by her side, obey her, watch her back, and keep her hands clean. Allura would never ever sever an ear or break a finger or toss someone in the trunk. Yet still, every bad guy in a 30 mile radius had nightmares about her.

Sometimes Lance worried what she thought of him. Times like when he popped open the trunk in the garage and fumbled with black-gloved fingers to unbutton his shirt. She lingered at his side and stared like she wanted to help. But she knew better than to get her hands on the evidence. If anything at all got traced back to her father, the entire castle would come crumbling down. Lance eventually managed to get the white shirt speckled with red open and shrugged it off, tossed it into the trunk. Bloody gloves got flung in there after it and he pulled a clean shirt on.

This time, Allura reached out to help with it. “I’m going to verify if what we learned about the location is true.”

Lance carefully tucked the rosary dangling over his chest beneath his shirt as she buttoned it up for him. “Naw, it’s gonna be over by the time we do that. We can finish this tonight, while we still have the element of surprise.”

Tonight’s mission was to interrupt an attempted ransom. Some guy found himself on the wrong side of town and didn’t make it back. His family were well off enough to afford the price the Witch forced them to pay to see their son again, but the King couldn’t let this slide. Watching out for your own means everything.

“But it’s Friday,” Allura argued.

Friday nights were milkshake night.

“The diner doesn’t close! Late night shakes are the best.”

“It’s already late night.”

“I’ll pop in and out. You just sit somewhere looking pretty while I collect your money. I’ll be looking pretty, too.”

Her lips twitched, trying not to smile and failing. “See you at the diner, then.”

Shiro’s team went into the Witch’s territory to rescue the kidnapped son while Lance and Allura investigated the ransom money’s location. Everything would be returned to the Holt family. And if the family wanted to let the King keep the ransom money as a thank you, well... That’s just being polite, isn’t it?

Lance dropped Allura off at the Moonstruck Diner, then drove on to the drop location by himself. The spot turned out to be the parking lot of a dinky little shopping center on the bad side of town. He only needed to drive by once to spot the best vantage point. Lance parked his car in the back alley of an apartment complex across the street and quietly crept all the way up the fire escape. On the roof, he found a spot where the shadows could hide him well and got to work assembling his rifle. Clicking the pieces into place was strangely calming work. So was leaning down to look through the eyepiece and preparing to wait.

Unlike Allura, Lance was not untouchable. Far from it.

He didn’t know how long someone had been in the shadows of that rooftop with him, also waiting. A hand clapped over the bottom of Lance’s face, smothering a rag over his mouth and nose. He tried to hold his breath as he was yanked backwards, against a broad chest. That wasn’t much use. He refused to inhale as he struggled, but a massive punch on the side of his head knocked Lance right the fuck out anyway.

A slap to the face brought him back. He winced, clenching his teeth and eyes shut. His arms and legs were numb. His vision was blurred and drowned out by a way too bright lamp swinging right in his eyes, drilling a headache straight through to the back of his head. He was disoriented, but simultaneously adrenalized by a fight-or-flight response. It felt like his nerves were lighting up beneath layers of gauze.

“Hel-lo!” Another slap stung his cheek.

Through the blinding lamplight, a redhead with wide blue eyes came into focus for him. Pretty cute. In the shadows of the room beyond her, Lance spotted three other girl. A huge one, a short-haired one, and… Oh, wait. One’s a guy.

“Look at this, Allura’s dog has left her lap for once,” he drawled.

The redhead giggled. “Nah, he was just fetching her something.”

Lance looked down. His arms and legs were bound several times over.

“Tell us where she’s waiting for you.”

“Pfft,” Lance scoffed.

The girl pinched his chin between two fingers and yanked his face back up. “We have ways of making you ta-alk,” she sing-songed.

“What, slap me again? Jokes on you, I kinda like it.”

Her draw was extraordinary. Some hella Bruce Lee movement, almost too fast for the eye to see. He only realized she’d taken a gun out when he felt the butt of it bash against his cheek hard enough to rattle his teeth. His head snapped to the side with a breathless yelp. Fuck, that hurt. Warmth trickled down the side of his face. It dripped red on the clean shirt he’d changed into.

The girl lifted his chin up with the barrel of the gun, making Lance meet her eyes again. “Keep acting cute and see what happens.”

She smiled, sweet and bubbly. He tasted copper in his mouth. Now, Lance started to get really scared. He had heard of this gang and he knew how ugly interrogations can get. Hell, he’d conducted one himself that same night—which was a trap he walked right into, Lance realized several hours too late. He should’ve listened to Allura instead of rushing off to impress her.

“Let’s bring it back now,” the guy said. “Where is Allura meeting you?”

Lance swallowed, feeling the gun barrel tap his throat as he did. The ropes around his legs were bound too tightly for Lance to move a centimeter. Still, he kept his mouth shut. It was weird. He wasn’t the quiet type. But he could stay quiet. He could hold out. His people would be coming for him. Any minute. Any minute now. Please, fuck, someone had to be coming for him.

The huge girl stepped forward, into the light. “C’mon, let me smash some fingers as a warmup.”

“That’s a start.” From a scabbard Lance had not noticed hanging from the ringleader, Lotor’s, waist until now, he pulled out a freaking sword. How tacky.

Nonetheless, the whisper of it unsheathing made Lance’s blood run cold. His eyes went from the glint of the blade, to the big one’s knuckle cracks, to the quiet one cocking her own gun. A pair of hands slid down his shoulders, almost gentle. From behind, the redhead slipped her fingers beneath his half-buttoned shirt and pulled out a rosary. She twirled the cross in her fingers and hummed. Then, started winding the beads around her hand.

“We got alllll night to play with you,” Ezor cooed, tightening the beads around his neck until it hurt. Until he couldn’t breathe. Until the beads snapped.

.

A neon sign that spelled “Moonstruck” flickered pale blue light across Allura’s face. Throughout the diner, friends and couples chattered loudly, laughed obnoxiously. She was the only one sitting alone.

The whipped cream on top of her milkshake had melted to a white puddle that spilled down the sides of her untouched drink and pooled around the glass base. The waitresses kept looking in her direction with sad, sympathetic expressions. At first, Allura felt embarrassed. Now, she felt afraid.

.

When Lance came back to consciousness, his lungs were filled with smoke. His own coughing had startled him awake. He didn’t know he had blacked out in the first place. How long had he been out?

His eyes opened to plumes of grey drifting across the sky, covering the stars. And a view right up Shiro’s nose. Lance was being carried, apparently. Not gently, either. Shiro was running. Lance’s nerves seemed to wake up a few seconds behind, but the rough jostling sparked them right back to life. In a split second, he went from feeling numb to his bones to feeling like every inch beneath his skin was made of exposed wires rubbing against each other. Lance tried a garbled attempt at screaming a curse, but it sounded more like someone shouting “Fuuuuck!” while tumbling face-first down a flight of stairs.

“Sorry!” Shiro huffed.

It sounded sincere, but that was undercut by the fact that Shiro unapologetically flung him into the open backseat of a car moments later. Lance made a sound like someone screaming “SHIT!” while hurtling face-first down a flight of stairs.

Everything happened in the span of three seconds. Shiro climbed in after Lance and someone else dove in from the other side, smushing him into the middle seat. “Owowowow,” he complained at being shoved to sit upright with absolutely no tenderness. The engine roared and tires screeched against asphalt. The car was already peeling out of there before every open door had slammed shut.

Then silence. Only the sounds of five people panting filled the car. Keith in the driver’s seat, frowning at the road as he weaved around traffic and refused to stop at a single red light. On the passenger side, Allura spun in her seat to look at Lance—or tried to, but something tugged her back.

“Are you—” She whipped back around mid-sentence. “Ah, shit, my skirt’s caught in the door.” She turned again, more carefully this time. “Are you okay?”

The slight wince when she got a proper look at him in between passing streetlamps was a hint that he didn’t look okay. Lance took stock of everything he remembered before passing out. His right leg: fucked. His right fingers: fucked. Both sides of his previously beautiful face: fucked.

And he took stock of new fuck-ups he didn’t remember, so probably happened post-blackout. Most notably, his nose and his shoulder: fucked.

Without waiting for an answer, Allura assured, “We’re taking you to emergency. You’ll be alright.”

“Yeah, well, my lucky necklace broke. Will emergency fix that?” Lance turned to the paladin on his other side in an attempt to include them. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized it was not one of them. “WHOA. The fuck is she doing here?”

For the past minute, he’d been literally rubbing elbows with one of the girls from Lotor’s squad.

“Acxa’s a double agent,” Keith chimed in.

“She shot me back there!”

“I grazed you.”

Lance groaned. “Ugh, pedantics.”

“Semantics,” Acxa corrected.

“Ughhh,” he repeated.

At that point, Shiro intervened. “We wouldn’t have known where you were taken if it wasn’t for her. We couldn’t have gotten in, either.”

“Fine, thanks, but I’m just saying—You let me think I was gonna get murdered. I mean, you coulda winked or something!”

“A wink would help?” Acxa asked flatly.

“Uh, yeah! Gimme some hope, y’know.”

“I’m pretty sure Ezor winked at you at some point. And she was definitely going to murder you.”

After a long pause, Lance admitted, “You know what. Touche.”

In the front seat, Allura unzipped a Burberry purse in her lap. Plastic crinkled as she opened a makeup wipe. Lance watched her wipe her hands with it, flickering between darkness and orange light from posts outside. The white towelette came back red.

“Is that mine?” he asked.

“No,” Allura answered, something heavy in her voice.

Another tense silence descended on the car.

Keith was the first to break it. “Do you have any idea what we started?”

No one answered.

Lotor, like Allura, was untouchable. Supposed to be untouchable. Tonight, because of Lance, they broke the one rule between the warring families that was sacred.

Now, all bets would be off. No one and no place would be untouchable. They were in some deep shit.

“Hey. Hey.” Shiro tapped Lance’s cheek, snapping him out of it.

“Wha?”

“Try to stay awake. We’re almost there.”

“I’m awake,” Lance mumbled.

“Don’t close your eyes,” Allura added. “Keep them open. And keep talking.”

“Okayokayokay, um…” Yeah, he was slurring his words. “Turn the radio on.”

Allura leaned forward in her seat to switch the radio on.

She humored him even when he started getting picky with stations, guiding her on the dial. “That sucks, change it. Nope, next. Next. Next—Yes! Right there—I like dollars, I like diamonds, I like stuntin’, I like shinin’—”

Listen. She told him to stay awake and keep talking.

At first, it was Lance jamming by himself and bobbing his head to the extent that he could without disturbing the messed up shoulder. Then Allura swooped in for the pre-chorus. Shiro caved and joined in a couple seconds after she did. The other two kept playing it like they’re too cool for car karaoke, but Lance could see a smirk on Keith’s lips in the rear view mirror. And, up against his side, he felt Acxa chuckle softly right after the three of them barked the first line of the chorus in unison.

Lance still sang beneath his breath even as he was hauled out of the car in the hospital’s driveway.

.

“Can you believe I woulda died without Cardi B?”

All quiet in the diner. It was nearly empty, except for a handful of old timers getting breakfast. A little early for milkshakes, but Lance had a tradition to uphold.

The window behind Allura outlined her in a bright halo of early morning sunshine. “Mhm. You have some nerve, you know.”

Lance raised an eyebrow and took a doubtful slurp of his chocolate and banana shake.

She raised one right back at him. “You stood me up. No one’s ever done that to me.”

“Oh, c’mon. That’s not fair. I was literally taking a bullet for you.”

“She says it grazed you.”

“Come on.” He slumped back in his seat, smiling despite the offended tone in his voice.

It felt nice to act normal. Like things could carry on as always after last night. Lance didn’t even receive a single odd look when he lumbered in on a crutch with his cheek bandaged and lip stitched. The grandpas in the corner booth kept their heads down, politely staring at their bacon and eggs until he and Allura passed. The waitress was warm as always, but she didn’t take her eyes off her notepad when it was Lance’s turn to order.

He thought of when he was young, playing in the schoolyard, pretending to be something he wasn’t. Now, he played with Allura over milkshakes, both pretending they didn’t need to worry about what would come next.

END.

[starsgivemehp]

☯ + Judgement Hall

Canon Drabbles | accepting

(WELLLLL this isn’t a drabble. It’s very long. BUT it just so happens I’d written this long ago from Frisk’s point of view, from an earlier version of Red, so getting to rewrite it in his POV and with updated backstories was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. So, here you are~!)

- - - - -

“stop right there, kid.”

Red watched the human child come to asurprised halt, clearly startled by his sudden appearance. They hadn’t spokensince Snowidn, but he’d been there, watching, from Syren’s little concert tothe vents of Hotland to the winding hallways of the core. He wasn’t impressed.He stood facing them, his hands in his pockets, gaze narrowed. They gave himthat innocent, confused look, the same look they gave Mettaton, and Undyne, andVex, and anyone else who fought them. Like they couldn’t believe it. He grit histeeth.

“don’t gimme that look… you and i both knowwhat’s gonna happen next.”

They tilted their head slightly. They wereeven shorter than him, a child, their body stocky and still growing. Theirhands moved precisely, quick and confident.

‘Why are you here, Red?’

“don’t ask stupid questions. you made it allthis way, you beat my boss, and the captain, even the human-killing robot. youshould’ve died ages ago. how did you survive?”

They didn’t answer, their hands hesitating,and he scoffed.

“yeah, i know how. by making friends with them. by being nice to them until they spared you outof pity, or to return the favor. well, lemme tell ya somethin’, kid. no onespares anyone down here. that’s just not how the underground works. for years,there’s been only one rule. kill, or bekilled.”

Frisk set their jaw, straightening up, andfinally found words.

‘But I did neither of those things.’

“that’s right. you didn’t kill, and you weren’tkilled. well. good for you, kid. but now what? you can’t pass the barrier onyour own no matter how much ‘determination’ you have. you need a monster souland a human soul. and not just any monster soul, either. a monster soul thatwill persist long enough after death for you to take it and absorb it. a bossmonster’s soul. and as of right now, there are only two boss monsters. one isthe king. and the other… well, who knows where the queen went?”

Frisk lifted their hands, but he bulldozed on,unwilling to let them dig in with their talk of mercy. Not for this.

“so, kid, we got a good ending and a bad ending.the bad ending is, you walk past me and fight and kill our king – and he’s areal jerk, don’t get me wrong, but he isking – you take his soul, you pass through the barrier leaving us behind in apower vacuum. we fall into despair; monsters everywhere start falling down anddying. we struggle to survive and hope against hope that another human fallssoon. or… the good ending. you die. you give us your soul, and we break free ofthis mountain.”

Of course, the King had plans of war, butthose could be dealt with after. vex and undyne weren’t training for nothing,or just to beat up vagabonds. This kid didn’t need to know these things.

He pulled his left hand out of his pocket, palm up, hispupils softening a little around the edges. He did his best to look genuine.

“you can guess which one we’d prefer. i’m askin’ ya nicely,kid. do everyone a favor, and give it up peacefully. if you do, i’ll make yourdeath quick and painless. i’m a nice guy sometimes, y’know, and i don’t like toput in a lot of effort. fighting is a hassle, don’t you agree? “

He waited like that patiently, with his arm stretched out,while Frisk stared at him in shock. He wasn’t surprised. His offer wasdownright generous, compared to the other fights they’d been through. There wasa chance, a small chance that theymight actually take his offer, and he wouldn’t have to make this a big mess.But, he could tell already they weren’t going to take his offer. Of course. Hewas resigning himself even before their jaw set.

‘I’m going to return to the surface, and I’m taking you allwith me.’

Red sighed, flipping his hand for the palm to face Frisk.

“well, i tried it the easy way. now you get the hard way.”

He turned their soul blue and threw them into the airviciously.

Things seemed to blur after that. He was sure he’d beatenthem, he was sure he could smell the sickening tang of human blood, making histhroat close up and his soul thud in revulsion. But no, here he was again, hishand out, ready to turn their soul blue. He paused for just a moment, watchingthem.

“that expression…”

He turned their soul blue and flung them. They survived hisattack, slamming the CHECK button. He tried not to shiver, and instead smirked,enjoying their shocked expression at his piss-poor stats.

“what? thought i was stronger? i toldja i didn’t likefighting. but hey, you should’ve attacked while you had the chance, buddy.”

He attacked viciously, trying to dredge up the faintest hintof KR to make it easier on himself. He couldn’t. He couldn’t muster therighteous fury needed to make his magic spark yellow, to make his attacks domore than one measly point at a time. But even without it, he had tricks andworkarounds that gave him a severe advantage.

Things started blurring a little more, but he was gettingused to it. He was experiencing the time LOADs he’d theorized they were usingto win. But he still wouldn’t let them win.

‘Hey, Red! What do you call a skeleton that stuck its head inthe freezer? A numbskull!’“hehehe, good one kid. i’ll use it myself when i get tothe surface.”-- - - - - - - - -‘Did you sit on a pile of sugar, Red? Because you have apretty sweet ass!’“hehe. clever, but i’m a skeleton. i don't have an ass.”- - - - - - - - - -'Red, please, stop! You’vekilled me four times now!’“i know how to count,thanks. i’m a physicist. a well-rounded five, maybe?”

 - - - - - - - - - -

“lemme tell you a story.”

Red wandered over to oneof the pillars in the golden hallway. The kid was clutching their bleeding arm.The smell of blood made him nauseated, but he shook it off. He watched themwith his good eye, the blind right one closed to give him a casual look.

“so i’m a sentry atsnowdin forest, right? out there, in the middle of nowhere, is a door. the doorto the ruins, i’m guessing. but it’s perfect for knock-knock jokes. one time, iwas sittin’ there, crankin’ 'em out as usual, when i heard a voice. a laugh.someone was on the other side, and they liked my stupid puns. it was a woman. idon’t know her name, i never asked. but she really freakin’ loves puns. then sheknocked herself and told one of her own. she was good. we startedgoin’ back and forth, almost every day. we’ve been doin’ it for years now. it’sgreat.”

He knew he had a stupid,fond look on his face as he told the story. Even though he’d never seen her face,he had a terrible fondness for her.

“one day… thelady wasn’t laughin’ much. somethin’ was wrong, i could tell. y'know, i’mpretty good at telling stuff like that. so i asked her what was up. she neverdid get around to tellin’ me what happened. but instead, she asked mesomethin’. she asked me, 'Red, how do you feel about promises?’ and so i toldher, 'look lady, i don’t make promises to people unless i trust 'em a lot…but you’re one of those people. tell me what you want and i’ll decide.’ so shetold me this: “If a human ever passes through this door… please kill them.’”

'Wait, what?’ Frisksigned incredulously.

“it’s the truth.she said to me, 'Please kill them quickly and painlessly. Do not let KingAsgore torture them. Give them the mercy of a painless death from someone witha good heart.’ and so i promised her that. and then, all these years later,here you are.”

'But… but…’

“look. i take mypromises seriously. i keep 'em even if they could kill me. so i intend to keepthis one too.”

He pushed off from the pillarand outstretched his good hand again, palm up.

“you’ll never get outwithout killing the king, kid. we’ll never get out without your soul. this isthe best outcome any of us can hope for. i’ll make sure it’s painless. just takemy offer.”

It was sparing, in itsown way. Yes, they would die, but he could make it be painless. Hell, if it madethem feel better, he’d give them a hug and a last wish or dying request. He’dmake their name be known and immortalized. But, of course, they refused. Theylooked like they were about to start crying, which made his soul clench.

Don’t you do that to me, kid. I HAVE to dothis.

‘Red… I can’t. I refuseto die. I refuse to give up.’

“but why?”he asked, frustrated. “giving up is so much easier. it takes so littleeffort. it hurts less. just… give up, kid.”

‘I won’t.’

Red sighed, slowlydropping his hand.

“y’see? this is why i hate making promises.”

He rolled his shouldersand jumped back into the fray.

- - - - - - - - - -

He gave that speechseveral more times. He always gave them a chance. He couldn’t stop himself. Itwas a part of the ‘script’ he supposed. But he always doubled down after that.They kept sparing, insisting, and multiple times, he knew he snarled that hehated them as he sent another attack their way. He lost count. It had to beover 30 times he killed them total. And he could feel that he was getting tired.Reaching his limits. They were getting better and better.

No wonder they even got past Undyne.

The worst part was theirwords.

“if you’re not gonnadie, you stupid kid, then just kill me and get it over with!” he snarled, andthey reeled like they’d been struck.

‘No!’

“why the fuck not?”

‘Because I care aboutyou, I can’t kill you!’

“wha…?” He paused in hisattack, staring at them with darkened sockets. “you… care about me…?”

‘I care about all ofyou! I care about your brother, and Undyne, and Alphys, and I definitely careabout you!’

And that ridiculouslittle kid actually made it seem… believable.He recalled Vex going red in the face during their ‘play date,’ watching Undynechasing them down only to have her stalk over tot their house and mumble somethingabout cooking with them, raiding Alphys’s lab only to see her dumping out herworse experiments herself. They had all changed… Was it really only becausethis kid showed they cared? Was that really it?

…No. It couldn’t be.There had to be other things at play. It was all some sick game. He grit histeeth, yanking them with blue magic again.

“you don’t. those arejust words. if you really cared about me, about any of us… you would just die already!”

He saw vividly tearingthrough their fragile flesh with a dozen bones, the blood spattering. His soulseized at the gore, and he felt vomit welling up before the world blurred.

- - - - - - - - - -

“…survive this, and i’ll show you my specialattack!”

He had said those wordseight times before. He was fighting a losing battle. What was the point? Hethrew everything at them. Everything he had, until he was gasping for breath, themagic in his good eye sputtering, exhaustion sweeping through him. He fell tohis knees, the assault ending, and they were still alive. Bleeding, but alive.The smell was horrible, but he was too tired to even be grossed out by thispoint.

“hhh… hhh…hhh… why won’t… you… just die…?” he panted,his eye sockets completely blank now. “why… hhh… why won’t you…just… give up…? hhh… please… hhh… please just… give up…”

He held onto his ‘turn’with the last ounces of will he had in him. Even so, they shuffled closer,kneeling in front of him. He braced for the end. But instead, he heard theirsoft, mostly unused voice.

“I can never give up,Red. I’ve got to get out.”

“hhh… k-kid… i don’t… idon’t have… some special attack… that’s all i got… hhh… you, you beat me… i can’tkill you, s-so… so please, just… kill me instead…”

“No! I refuse to killyou. I refuse to kill anyone.”

“please… please, kid, i’m beegin’ ya… after allof this… i can’t do it… i can’t watch you kill the king… take away our hope. ican’t watch boss feel betrayed… i just… i can’t, kid, i can’t do this anymore,i can’t…”

He broke off in a soband hated himself deeply for that weakness. Here he was, crumpled in front of achild, crying pathetically like he was still a little kid himself. If anyoneelse saw, he’d be dead. But all Frisk did was put their little hand on hisshoulder, and rub gently.

“I won’t. I care aboutyou, I’d never hurt you.”

He shook his head,sobbing quietly again. “if you cared about me, you’d do this for me… i’ve onlygot 1… i’m all out of HOPE. watchin’ you take away boss’s hope is gonna kill meanyway… this would be the less painful way to go, please…”

“I refuse.”

“why… not even for revenge?i killed you so many times i lost count.”

“Yes… But it doesn’tmatter. I know you’re a good person. You were fighting me to protect the peopleyou love.”

“that doesn’t excusemurder… and i ain’t the only one. so many have been cruel, anyone else wouldtake one look at us and just call us all bad people!”

“Well… I believe eventhe worst person can change. That everyone can be a good person, if they justtry. I’m going through life trying to be the best person I can be. Forgivingeveryone of their mistakes and bad choices, in the hopes they’ll try to becomebetter people too. It’s working so far… Hasn’t your brother changed? You sawhim after our date.”

Red wiped at his eyes,shifting to sit on his haunches slowly. “yeah, he… he looked happy… he hasn’tlooked so happy in a long time…” He looked up at them tiredly. “you… you changedhim, kid.”

“I’m glad! Because Icare about him a lot! And I’d never hurt him, especially not by killing you.You’re his precious brother. He loves you, you know. Even if he doesn’t say it.”

Red felt tears well up inhis sockets again. His soul throbbed. He knew, deep inside, it had just… beenso long since he’d acknowledged it. What with all of their fighting, theinsults, the punches, the disappointment and goading, the vicious cycle they’dbeen stuck in… Despite all of that…

“i… i know he does. ilove him too. that’s why i want him to get to the surface. i… want him to drivea cool car, and see the sun ride every morning…”

‘I want that too.’ Friskshifted back to signing now that he was watching them. ‘I’m gonna do it, Red. I’mgoing to set everyone free.’

“but how? we can’tharness the power of your soul without killing you, and we need it. besides,the king is…”

‘I’ll find a way. I alwaysfind a way.’

“heh…” He fell silent,looking down at his hand. He was exhausted, and emotionally wrung out, and…despite all of his conviction, there was something about Frisk. Something hecouldn’t help but trust. “somehow… i believe you, kid. i’m sorry foreverything.”

They smiled at him andoffered their hand. He took a deep breath, then took it to get to his feet.

The FIGHT ended.

[cacoethesfaciendi]

@stuckasthecleric

here’s my response to all of that: as i’ve said, i love you and i truly believe you are worth it. also, you have friends who love you as well and i think that you do deserve them. and i wish i could make you believe me but i can’t. all i can do is keep saying that i love you and that you’re an amazing person and hope that one day you will let yourself believe me. and i hate that you’re hurting and i hate that such a wonderful soul has to struggle with themselves so much and i hate that all i can do is support you, but i also believe that one day you will be truly happy, and i know that i will be right there with you to see it. i don’t need you to have a plan for the future. the future is scary and stressful, after all- we don’t have to plan for it now. we can figure it out when we get there. for right now, i want you to live one day at a time and see the good parts in each day and try to cherish them. i want you to laugh and i want you to smile, and i want to go shopping with you and play video games with you and talk to you and i want to continue to revel in the knowledge that i have an emm who’s fantastic and sweet and kind and at heart truly thoughtful and selfless and very lovely. i know you might disagree but i make my own choices too, and i choose you. i choose the person who checks up on me pretty much every day, who teases me about my squishes, who tries to support me as best as they can when they need, who rolls their eyes when i tease them- that’s you. you’re the person who i send the most random things on instagram to, the person that makes one of my other closest friends smile uncontrollably and blush and gush, the person who i bounce my ideas off of, the person who supports me in literally everything i do. the person who wants to get to know my other friends and also connects with said other friends and causes them to love them as well because they’re so brilliant. that’s you!!! and i love you for all of that and more, and i choose you. and you’re going to have to get used to it, emm, because i’m not letting you go. i am... never gonna give you up, yes i said it. but you have a journey to make, and it will take time and it will not be painless. know that i will be here for all of it, forever. know that we will all be here for you. but also know that it’s you who has to struggle with this - we’re not burdened by you. we’re not suffering because of you. you are fighting a battle, and we are rooting for you - that’s what’s happening. when you stumble, we get worried. but thus far, you’ve gotten back up every time! you went right back to it! you’re not weak- you’re human. sometimes we run from our emotions, and that’s valid, you know. emotions are scary things and so is being vulnerable. it takes strength to keep waking up every day and keep going on, but you have strength in spades. all of this is why you’re worth so much to us. there is no one quite like you and while everyone can grow in different ways, we do like you just as you are. this got very rambley but that’s what i have to say. try to keep some of it in mind??

one day at a time, emm!

love you!!! ♥️♥️♥️

[yourkeeperoftherunners]

Chance [2]

Plot: AU You were born in tragic circumstances, exhibiting a hyper-awareness to your surroundings and situations growing up. For a while you blamed the fabled figure in the hooded cloak with the scythe for robbing you of your picture perfect life, until you encountered him years later. Turns out he’s not the only one and there’s a logical explanation for why you turned out different from your peers.

Rating: PG-13 (Language, death during childbirth, grim reaper mythology, mention of hook-ups)

Characters: Reaper!RM x Female Reader feat. mention of the other members

Notes: A dream I had last night, plus a comic featuring a grim reaper giving a mother in childbirth a few more minutes to live and a comic about death taking the breath away from a girl served as the inspiration for this story. I know assigning Reaper mythology to the band isn’t a new concept but after seeing the last two inspirations, it got me thinking about the cases where those figures aren’t trying to harm the individual but they express some emotional difficulties carrying out their jobs because it is difficult.

[1] | [3]

“There’s billions of people on this planet – of course there’s more than one reaper!” the young man sighed.

You took a look at the young man’s appearance, noting that he was sporting black, but there was no sign of a cloak to be found. For some funny reason, you thought you spotted a flash of pink where his boots met his pant hems, and you tilted your head, trying to look more closely. He watched your actions and tried to straighten up when he saw where you were looking.

“Jin’s socks, not mine!” he sputtered as he tugged at his pants. “I swear he left them in my pile by mistake and took my black ones.”

You almost bust out laughing at the thought of another reaper looking for his pink socks, being forced to sport black ones with an all-pink ensemble.

“Wait, there’s a reaper who wears pink?”

The young man scoffed at your question and crossed his arms over his chest. “The whole “hooded cape of darkness” is really dated. The tarot cards really need to modernize us – I rarely see anyone who wields a scythe anymore. But yeah, one of us wears pink, a lot of us wear black ‘cause it’s easy to coordinate for the most part, and others don different colors.”

“Why didn’t they send the pink guy then? He sounds like a lot of fun,” you teased.

The young man pouted at your comment and you had to hold back a laugh because it was somewhat endearing to see him looking sulky. With his messy, slightly spiked hairdo and the narrow shape of his eyes, he reminded you of a silver fox. He did have a point about iconography and images being a bit stereotypical if all reapers looked as good as he did. No bones were showing and his skin was a healthy, honey color with a bit of a glow.

But you remembered this guy wasn’t here to chum you up about his colleagues – he was probably here to take you to an early death. The smile fell from your face and you sucked in a sharp breath of air.

“All right Mr. Reaper, if you’re here to take my damn life, let’s get it over with and try to make it painless for my poor father – he’s had enough shitty things happening to him,” you said. “I mean, thanks for doing it while he’s preoccupied with my stepmom, but I’d like it if you could do it quickly and not make a mess.”

The young man raised a brow, tilting his head as he stared at you. “All right first off, I probably should have phrased it better when I said my old man said I had to get you,” he sighed. “Second, my name’s Namjoon – I don’t like hearing “Reaper” or “Mr. Reaper” ‘cause that’s kind of weird.” He studied you from head to toe for a few moments and added, “You’re in good health, maybe a little iron-deficient, but that seems normal for a lot of people. What makes you think I’m here to take you an early death?”

“Isn’t that your job?” you asked. “I mean, if you were really here for someone else in this household, you kinda missed them a few moments ago.”

“Yeah I did that on purpose – didn’t need to listen to that drama queen wail her head off,” he said.

“At least we can agree on that,” you murmured. “Hang on, you’re not after my dad are you?”

“NO! I mean no, no I’m not!” he protested. “He’s fine, but still grieving about your mom.”

“Well then who are you here for?” you groaned. “Look, I kind of wanna crash soon and you can’t be here when they get back.”

Namjoon sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. His lips pursed into a line and he opened and closed his mouth a few times, struggling to find the words to explain the situation. His old man never told your mother why he was the one handling her life, but his father preferred to keep his distance when handling people.

“Have you...ever noticed that you think and see things differently than the average human being?” he asked.

You shook your head and groaned. What was this?

“What kind of a question is that?”

“Would you please answer it?” he huffed.

You shrugged your shoulders and murmured that there wasn’t much that you could attribute to being out of the ordinary compared to your peers. Well, given the fact that you never drank or hooked up at parties. Often you maybe talked to a few people, probably people-watched, and silently made bets about who was going to hook-up, often winning when Kookie would put money on it. Even outside of parties you tended to people-watch, often making up stories about who these individuals were, why they were acting a certain way, and what probably was going to happen next.

“Does people-watching count?” you offered. “Sometimes I observe them and take stabs at guessing their life story. It’s just fun though – nothing super serious.”

Namjoon raised a brow and asked if you were sure. “What about if someone asked you? Maybe put money or a bribe on it? Maybe made a game of it. Did you find out you were always right?”

“Well, I’ve only done that at parties,” you confessed, “my younger friend always jokes that I can determine who’s gonna hook-up at the end of the night and it seems like I’m right. But that hardly counts, right?”

“Did you ever speculate the outcome? Maybe not out loud, but internally?” he persisted.

You nodded slowly as you recalled a case where you stayed long enough at a party, watching as the lacrosse co-captain pulled the newest cheerleader off to a private room. Jungkook bet out loud that it was for a petty dare – the lacrosse guy had bagged every girl on the cheer squad, except for this one, who was a transfer from another state. Privately, you disagreed as you picked up on the co-captain’s nervousness from the fidgeting, quick glances at the cheerleader, and his insistence that she be the first one into the room. You had seen the girl around and knew that she was smart but kind. A few weeks ago she turned down a football player with serious B.O. issues and the smartest guy on the Debate team. Normally you would have left, but you were Tae’s ride home and he was busy chatting up a old friend who graduated. After less than three minutes went by, both emerged from the room but you could tell they didn’t actually hook-up. At best, both kissed and judging by the way their hands were intertwined, he probably asked her out for real.

“It wasn’t a lucky guess by the way – that couple you saw at the party,” Namjoon interrupted your thoughts. “When my old man extended your mom’s life by a couple of minutes, that transferred a bit of his abilities to you. Technically, you were supposed to die too, according to what he saw, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that to you and your dad. So he manipulated her life clock and extended it a few minutes – in order to do that, he has to be in close proximity to the person on the brink of death.”

You stiffened when you heard that and for some odd reason, you thought you recalled feeling a lukewarm energy? Buzz? Well whatever it was, that sensation spread into your infant body and it helped push you out into the delivery room. According to the doctors, you didn’t cry when you were immediately delivered – only when your mother’s machines made the sound that indicated she was gone is when you let out your first cry.

You wrapped your fingers around your arm and stared back at the young man in disbelief.

“Where’s your dad now?” you managed to get out after a long silence.

Namjoon sighed as he leaned against the fridge. “Retired and sort of moping,” he said. “Your mom’s death hit him hard and he got a nice scolding from the council for meddling. But seeing as that was his first offense, they let him off with a warning. But he’s not guiding people to the afterlife anymore.” He licked his lips before continuing. “He didn’t realize what he had done affected you, which is why he sent me. I’m not here to take you away, but um, let’s say I was sort of...you know, making sure you’re okay?”

“Define okay,” you grumbled. “Look, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but having a stepmonster ignore me isn’t fun. I’m pretty sure she’s waiting for the moment where I’m out of the house so she can ban me from ever coming back and never letting me meet my future baby sibling.”

“It’s going to be a boy by the way,” Namjoon said. “I don’t think he’s gonna shut you out but you didn’t hear that from me. Your dad’s not gonna let that happen.”

You straightened up and gestured to the doorway. “Thanks for checking on me. Look, I wanna sleep this day off and you can’t be around when they come home, okay?”

He blinked when he heard your response and mumbled that you were right. He pushed himself away from the fridge and dusted off his pants. “I guess I’ll see myself out?”

You nodded as you walked over to the door and held it open for him. “Guess I’ll see you when it’s my time to go.”

“You didn’t tell her?!”

“Hyung please don’t shout, my old man’s trying to sleep!” Namjoon moaned as he messed up his hair.

“Yah Joonie! The whole purpose of seeing her early was to tell her why she has that connection, why your dad was assigned to her mom!” the other voice said. “Why you’re with her.”

“Well, look it’s a lot to take in at once! What did you want me to do?” Namjoon demanded.

There was a pause on the other line and Namjoon wondered if his friend was distracted by something food-related again. Leave it to the elder to be tempted by food in favor of doing his job.

“I’m coming with you next time you see her,” the other voice said.

“Yeah, see um, she doesn’t think I’m coming back until it’s time for her to go,” Namjoon sighed.

“Then we’ll surprise her! You said she works at an ice cream shop?”

“Ah yeah, it’s that...one place where every social media person goes to photograph and video record their treats,” Namjoon sighed. “I’ll talk to her again – you don’t have to come.”

“But there’s ice cream!” the other voice whined. “I haven’t had good ice cream in such a long time! Yoongi keeps buying cheap stuff and it gets freezer burn!”

“Hyung...”

“She said she wanted to meet me! Why not, as humans say, “kill two birds with one stone” and we go to her ice cream shop?”

[brooklynambastards]

Drabble: Trolley Strike Drag In

Here’s a little drabble I wrote about a thirteen year old Spot meeting Luna. It’s set during the Brooklyn Trolley Strike of 1895. This is just a small part to a story I have yet to write about Spot’s journey becoming the infamous leader.

February, 1895

“Someone get him to a damned hospital!” A boy cried as he struggled to hold up a beaten man. His leg was clearly broken and his forehead was flowing with blood. He held on to the boy with all the strength he could gather. Despite all the pain, the man could not help but chortle. “I ain’t going to a hospital, Spot. Just take me across the street. The old lady will take care of this… ain’t nothing like getting trampled over by your friends huh?…Shit!” He flinched in pain as little Spot Conlon dragged the man across the street to one of the Riverside apartment buildings.

“Good heavens!” The old lady stood in horror at the sight of the bloodied man. She scrambled to make room on the lobby couch for him. “Annabelle! Fetch me the supplies! Mr. William’s leg is broken and he’s going to need stitches! At once, you silly girl!”

After hurrying down the stairs, a girl, no older than the young boy, stood frozen with her large doe eyes staring at the man covered in blood. Her grandmother yelled one more time, “ANNABELLE! NOW!”

“Yes, Grandmother… I mean, Mrs. Finnigan!” She ran over to the cupboard to bring out the medical supplies. She quickly brought it over to the old lady who was helping Spot drag the man to the couch. Annabelle tied up her long brown hair into a bun to begin helping the old lady tend to the injured man.

Spot looked over at the man, slightly worried and glanced at the old lady, “He’s gonna be okay, right ma’am? He don’t need to get to a hospital?”

“Nonsense, young man. He’s going to be fine.” Mrs. Finnigan glared as she began to suppress the bleeding on the man’s head. “Now please step back and give me some room to mend him… Annabelle!!” She called out to the girl again. Annabelle quickly searched around the box of supplies needed to tend to the wounds and handed them over to the old lady. As Mrs. Finnigan began to suppress the bleeding and working on stitching the wounds, little Annabelle stood mesmerized by the task. The old lady glanced at the little girl and glared. “Well don’t just stand there! Straighten out the broken leg! Remember how Dr. Robertson showed you!”

Spot furrowed his brow at the thought of a little girl being trusted to put a broken bone back in place. “You sure that’s a good idea ma’am? She just-“

“Don’t worry I got this!” Annabelle called out as she ran back to the cabinet and brought back a bottle of whiskey. She knelt by the man’s side and gathered more supplies to make a splint. She took the bottle of whiskey and brought it to her lips, only to get it snatched by the old lady. Spot let out a chuckle as he saw her handing the bottle to Mr. Williams. Watching him take a large swig, Annabelle rolled her eyes and looked at the man, reassuring him. “It’s gonna be okay Mr. Williams. I’ve done this before.” She let a deep breath out as she prepared herself to accomplish the task. She knew she had enough practice volunteering at the hospital with the old lady but it was the first time she had to perform it without a doctor around.

“Alright just get this over with, kid.” The man had no time to argue about entrusting his broken leg in the hands of the little girl. He took one more swig and held his breath. In one swift movement, Annabelle yanked his leg to get it back into place and he let out a sharp cry full of obscenities. Mrs. Finnigan glared at the man but could not blame him for lashing out with such pain.

The girl bit her lip as she began applying the splint and bandages. “I’m sorry, Mr. Williams… there was no painless way to do that. Just.. keep drinking.” She gave him a reassuring grin and despite the excruciating pain, the man was quite impressed. Spot stood in slight awe watching the old lady and the girl tend to Mr. William’s injuries so quickly.

Spot walked over to observe the ladies’ handiwork on his friend and grinned. “I know where I’m going next time I get into another scuffle!”

Mrs. Finnigan frowned as she began cleaning up. ”You will do no such thing to get yourself into more trouble, boys. Trolley strike or not, your lives are far more important!” She let out a heavy sigh and glanced at the man. “Mr. Williams, for now until you heal enough to walk up those stairs, you will be staying here, in 122. By heavens, you see the result of all this violence? Why can’t you men negotiate like civilized human beings?”

“Beats me Mrs. Finnigan.” All Mr. Williams could do was grin and nod. It was not worth arguing with the old lady especially after he was nearly drunk. Spot crossed his arms and retorted, “We gotta soak them scabs or else what good is this strike gonna do? I’m sorry ma’am, but we gotta get those lines tied up so we can get them big boys to start negotiating.”

“Why would you care, young man? You don’t look old enough to be a motorman.” Mr. Finnigan narrowed her eyes at him for a moment and shook her head as she and Annabelle helped Mr. Williams to his room.

Spot gave her a haughty smirk. “The name’s Spot Conlon. Everyone thinks that but what they don’t know is that I work for Mr. Connelly, District Master Workman. As long as the unions give the strikers that order, that’s the way it’s gotta be.”

“Perhaps, but it doesn’t mean it’s right and it doesn’t mean I have to like it. There’s always other ways to put an end to this madness.” The old lady sighed as she helped Mr. Williams to his bed.

“-Yeah! Like poison the rich guys’ supper!” Annabelle snickered. Spot could not help but grin. He knew she was joking but he also knew that the idea has crossed the strikers’ minds.

The old lady gave the little girl a deathly glare. “That isn’t funny, Annabelle. Violence is never the answer.”

“There’s always extortion and blackmail…” The little girl smirked. Tired of her snark, Mrs. Finnigan let out an exasperated sigh and shoved her out of the room. “I had just about enough of you. Now go get Mr. Williams some tea and get started on that stew! And you…” She turned to the boy and glared. “Mr. Williams needs to rest so you better go home and stay away from this dreaded strike. No boy should ever have to witness all this violence!”

Spot rolled his eyes and grinned at the old lady. “Yes, ma’am.”

Annabelle sighed, “I’ll walk him out, Grandmother.” She took the boy’s arm and dragged him to the lobby before the old lady could chastise them any further. “Don’t worry about her. I think what you’re doing is a noble cause. I hope to hear more about that strike!” She smiled and held out her hand. “I’m Annabelle by the way. I just moved here last year.”

“Nice to meet ya little lady!” Spot smirked as he spat in his hand and shook hers. “The name’s Spot Conlon. You and your grandmother are pretty handy with that fixin’ up stuff.” He walked out the door and grinned. “I’ll be sure to drop by and see how Mr. Williams is doing and keep ya informed about the strike. I’ll see ya around! Good luck putting up with my pal.”

"Sure thing. See ya around Spot!” Annabelle let out a small chuckle and shut the door.