#*screams* i really really hope you guys will enjoy this series!!!! its basically just here to make you smile

[ruskaroma]

ordinary, corrupt human love. | chapter 1: written in blood.

Warnings: this series will include highly disturbing/dark topics such as stalking, unhealthy obsession, graphic descriptions of violence, blood and gore, manipulation, gaslighting, large age gap, emotional/psychological abuse, dom/sub undertones, bad BDSM etiquette, etc.

this is a dark fic, written in john's pov and a glimpse of how his mind works. if you still continue to read and get triggered, that is not my responsibility.

Summary: John finds himself a new obsession.

Author's note: this is my first ever fanfic for this fandom and i am beyond excited to share this with you guys! though i must say before you begin, english is not my first language and there might be a few errors in my writing here and there, so i apologize in advance.

but either way, i still hope you enjoy this piece, and i can assure you that once i finish writing this series there will be more to come! i really enjoy writing john wick be a merciless bastard who kills everything that breathes, and i hope you enjoy it too as much as i did.

please, please, PLEASE tell me what you think in the comment and reblogs and likes would be so appreciated. it motivates me to write even more :)

(also this is not edited so all mistakes are on me and i apologize)

Word count: 8.1k

also read on ao3.

It’s one of those days again.

The sound of his watch ticking is the only thing keeping his car from being too quiet. His eyes watch every single movement of his target, never leaving his sight. It won’t be too long for John to finally strike, he just doesn’t want too many civilians seeing the horror that’s about to happen right before their very eyes.

His mind is thinking of many things he could do with this target in particular. A lowlife thug that got himself involved with a very dangerous Italian mob, but then again that’s not the reason why John’s murderous intent is at its peak at the moment.

He’s angry at something, he just doesn’t know what. And this target of his isn’t helping his situation at all. Reading his criminal record made John think this could be a chance to cure his boredom. This man is not only a sex trafficker, but also a pedophile who has a history of targeting teenagers to rape and sell to the black market that’s as fucked up as him.

He doesn’t normally take his time thinking of ways to kill his targets. He points, shoots, leaves. This one in particular though, got him facing a side of him that John himself doesn’t want to face.

He would start by breaking every single one of the man’s fingers. And if that doesn’t do any justice, he’ll cut them off.

One by one, let the man savor the feeling, let John relish the nightmare.

He could slit the man’s throat, watch as life drains away from his body, watch as the man clings to his legs for mercy. John could even pull out the man’s dick, step on it, fucking cut it off and shove it so far down his own throat that he couldn’t scream for help if he tried.

It’s John’s version of Colombian Necktie. A classic, only ever tried it out four times, hopefully this would be the fifth.

John is never the one to take pleasure in killing people, but these past few months have proved him otherwise.

Maybe it’s because of Helen’s death, and the way he was basically forced to sculpt the demons he buried back into himself. His only remaining bit of humanity was taken from him, and he’s coping in the most unhealthy way possible. Perhaps Winston was right about dipping his pinky a little too much into the pond, but it was inevitable.

John has gone back to his old ways. Taking contracts here and there to distract himself from the void in his heart. He remembers how burying a knife into someone’s throat for the first time in many years has ignited something in him he didn’t even know he had.

That’s why he’s here, exiting his car in a swift move, following his target as quietly as possible into a narrow alleyway that stinks of garbage in piss. This would be a nice place to kill a guy like him – right where he belongs.

John’s movements are so discreet the man couldn’t even sense him until John wrapped his right arm around his neck and his other hand went to cover the man’s mouth. He walks them both to the back of a building as the man struggles, where John’s sure no more people are present, and he kicks him on the jaw to stop the man from making any more noises.

John can make this quick. Pull out his gun and blow his brains out. But there’s that sinister glint in his mind that’s telling him to do something unimaginable – grotesque even – a death a man like him deserves.

The man tries to swing his arm at John but misses pathetically. The poor guy’s already shaking and John hasn’t even begun.

John doesn’t respond to the pitiful attempts of questioning who he is and who sent him here, he simply pulls his knife from his pocket and wastes no time slashing it against the man’s throat, the blood spraying all over his face. The man tries to stop it by shakily covering the deep cut with his hand, but it’s useless.

He’s gargling, choking on his own blood, and John’s watching it all unravel with a familiar glint in his eyes.

John is contemplating if he should follow the plan he made in his head or just leave it like this. Somehow, the sight looks rather incomplete to him. He knows what he’s done is not enough, but that could be just the rage talking. The man’s already dead, and surely cutting off his dick and shoving it so far down his throat it comes out of the wound would leave an ugly reputation on his name. 

Would that be a good thing? John is already feared enough, would it be a good thing to make people fear him even more? But then again, this won’t be the first time he’s done it. Doing it again one more time wouldn’t make any difference.

He glances down at the dead body on his feet before he kneels down to do the unforgivable.

Slicing off a man’s cock is easy. Too easy. John’s knife is perfectly sharpened and stoned, he merely uses any strength to cut it off. The sight is so fucking ugly, too much blood, but nothing he can’t handle.

Once that’s done, John uses his other hand to force the dead man’s jaw open, immediately greeted by the foul stench of blood as he shoves the unpleasant dick into the man’s open mouth. The genitalia is definitely not long enough to reach the throat, but that won’t be any problem for John.

He grits his teeth as he forces his hand in there, not bothering to care even if the jaw breaks and the hole becomes even wider, his goal is the only thing in his mind.

The blood continues to drip and he has never been so grateful for wearing an all black uniform for this occasion. Soon enough, after a few minutes of such a brutal wrongdoing, John sees the tip of the cock reaching the deep wound on the man’s throat as it continues to peak its way out.

A sick, small smile spreads across John’s face. The smile is barely there, but he’s fucking enjoying this more than he’d like to admit. He can only imagine how the news would spread across the assassin underworld like a wildfire.

The Boogeyman’s back in business and he’s scarier than ever.

Perhaps this might be the way to lay his point across. This is a way to show them that it was not a good idea pissing him off, killing what’s his, and bringing him back in business. They’d regret it, but it would be already too late for that.

John uses his other hand to pull the cock right out of the man’s throat but not completely. Half of it is hanging out and John thinks he could even consider this as a masterpiece. There’d be flies and maggots that would make the scenery better, but the cleaning service is there for a reason. He can’t just not use it.

John stands up from his position, pocketing his knife back into his pocket before retrieving his phone with the other. He dials a number, waits for them to pick up, all while admiring his work on the ground.

His previous contracts these past few months all ended in such an unimaginable, ugly way. He figured that by showing them that he’s capable of such brutality, it would increase the numbers of people calling him in for more jobs, because this is exactly what they wanted. They wanted Baba Yaga, the ruthless killer of the underworld who stops at nothing to finish his job, and he’s simply giving it to them.

Someone picks up the call and he straightens his posture, checking the time on his watch before speaking.

“This is Wick. John Wick, yes. I would like to make a dinner reservation for one.”

The news spread faster than anticipated.

The notorious man John Wick, the hot topic of the criminal underworld at the moment, even gained the attention of The High Table, and it all happened in the span of one day. That’s how quick the news spread amongst his fellow assassins, though that’s exactly what he was going for.

John expected it so he isn’t surprised when he receives a call from Charon saying Winston wants to meet him.

He inserts a coin in the door and the small window opened briefly. The guy on the other side immediately recognized him, not wasting a single moment to open the door and let the man of the hour in. All eyes are on him the moment he steps into the club, but no one dared to murmur anything to anybody – not when the man himself is here.

They know better.

John spots Winston at his usual spot drinking his usual order, signaling John to sit beside him where a glass of bourbon is already present. 

“Jonathan,” Winston greets, raising his glass. “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

“I figured,” John replies, though not interested. He slides himself to the booth and takes a sip of his own drink. “I don’t understand why though.”

“Are we really playing this game, Jonathan?” The manager raises a brow. 

“I was just doing my job.”

“In a way you don’t normally do,” Winston then adds. “Or should I say, in a way you don’t even do.”

John gives him a look, but he could tell Winston doesn’t know how to interpret it. His face remains emotionless, not letting the mask slip and grant Winston the privilege to take a peak. John will continue to play this game until he’s satisfied, until he feels something again. Surely he’ll find what he’s looking for while doing the only thing he’s ever good at – slaughtering.

“Let’s just say I was trying out a new technique,” John says, voice deep and almost sinister. Winston’s scared, though he doesn’t show it, John knows. 

“I have known you ever since you started, Jonathan. Not once did it cross my mind you would do something so.. horrifying as this. You discarded the body like he was some sort of pig, so believe me when I say I couldn’t believe it at first.”

John has no idea why Winston’s whining about him being horrifying, when that’s all they’ve been saying about him ever since he joined. He didn’t gain this reputation for no reason, now he’s just simply showing them what more he’s capable of.

“You should’ve seen his record.” His tone is menacing, swirling the drink in his hand as he stares deeply at Winston’s eyes. “He’s worse than a pig.”

The drop of the curse word takes Winston by surprise. “So is that what it is, then? You killed him that way because you think he deserved it?”

“Not really,” John simply sighs, leaning back on the leather seat as he takes another sip of his bourbon. He really isn’t planning on staying longer, but Winston seems to be taking his sweet time asking him a bunch of stupid questions. “I couldn’t care less of what he’s done. I was simply… bored. Saying that I did that because I think he deserved it gives people a reason to think that what I did was justifiable.”

The look on Winston’s face says enough. He’s afraid of John, afraid of what he has become. Hearing John say he did such an unforgiving thing just because he was bored is beyond frightening. No man has ever inflicted so much fear on him before – at least not until John.

“I think we’re done for tonight,” Winston finally says, not wanting to hear any more disturbing thoughts of John, but he remains polite and calm for the sake of their friendship. “You have a good night, Jonathan.”

John gives him a nod, standing up from his seat and downing his drink in one go. “Goodnight, Winston.”

He exits the club with an eerie aura following behind him, not caring about the way people are looking at him like he’s got Death himself walking beside him.

It makes him wonder that maybe death doesn’t follow him after all.

Maybe it is him.

Someone offered him five million to fuck up a man who allegedly stole a fuck ton of kilograms of cocaine from their warehouse, and really, who is John to decline the offer?

Hunting the man is easy. It didn’t even take a day to locate where the man lives, and John’s already breaking into his apartment to shoot the guy and leave. There’s no point in rummaging the place for the cocaine, all of it is already up the man’s system by the looks of it, and killing him is John’s job.

John wants to finish this one fast, he’s got other business to attend to. As he backs up the frightened, pathetic excuse for a man against the wall, he takes his gun out of his holster and aims directly at the head, right between the eyes, and he watches in great pleasure as the residue of his brains splatter against the walls and the floor.

This man didn’t even put up a fight. John thinks this is a waste of time.

He exits the apartment with disappointment heavy on his shoulders, slamming the door shut. Although the gun he used has a silencer, the rooms are too close to each other. He’s sure there might be other people who heard the shot of his firearm.

The apartment building is located at the filthy side of New York, where most known drug dealers and junkies do their nasty deals. It’s no surprise that as soon as John steps a foot out of the worn out building, all eyes are on him, but mainly on the clothes he’s wearing. They’re planning on mugging him out, and John would like to see them try.

Just as he’s about to walk to his car, his phone rings abruptly in his chest pocket. He retrieves it in one swift motion, not noticing that a gold coin fell out as he does so, and he continues walking to not waste any more time.

“Sir! Excuse me, sir, you dropped something!” John hears from behind. He doesn’t bother looking.

The call isn’t nearly as important as the business he needs to attend to, so he hangs up the call and pushes his phone back into his pocket. As soon as he does that, he feels a small hand touching his shoulder.

John’s hand immediately flies to wrap his large hand around the person’s wrist, turning around to see a young woman with a bewildered expression on her pretty face, little fingers holding his golden coin that looks far too big on her hand.

She looks scared, terrified, and oh how fucking awful that makes John feel. Like he’s been punched right in the fucking gut. He’s enthralled.

“I wasn’t–you dropped it and I’m just giving it to you, I promise!”

She’s looking at John with big, doe eyes. She also looks freshly showered, wrapped in a black puffy jacket that makes her even smaller than she already is. John lets his eyes linger on her lips, so plump and glossy. Her voice sounds sweet, soft, something John isn’t used to hearing.

John can’t help but to stare.

“Are you–are you gonna let me go, mister?”

The way she stutters triggers a hot feeling in John’s guts, and can’t help but to rub his thumb on the girl’s dainty wrist before slowly letting her go.

So delicate, he could snap them in half.

“Sorry,” John apologizes, taking the coin from her hold, and his fingers itch at the way her skin feels so soft against his rough hands. “Force of habit.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles a little, and there goes that hot curl in John’s stomach once again. “That thing looks expensive so be careful next time.”

Just like that, John doesn’t get the chance to reply back. She makes her leave and patters away from him, and he watches. He watches until she’s out of the view, taking a turn to a corner, leaving John with something he can’t quite figure out yet, but he soon will be.

For the first time in a while, he feels something new.

Suddenly, everything is too good to be true.

John will find himself staring at his hands for too long, still feeling the ghost of her soft skin on his fingers, fantasizing about her pretty face and soft, plump lips.

It’s scary for him to feel something again because that only means destruction. John likes to believe he has a gift of ruining everything he touches, especially the pure ones – like her. It’s a proven statement. Just look at Helen and Daisy.

This little one won’t be any different, he’s sure of it. John’s whole body is heating up everytime he thinks about her. The look on her face when she saw John’s chilling expression, her wide eyes, so glossy and innocent.

John wants to see her again.

His fingers itch, yearning to touch her again. 

Why he’s suddenly interested in a young woman he just met a few days ago, he has no idea. John’s a bit confusing – fucked up, even. He long accepted the fact that his mind is nowhere near healthy years ago. He tried to push those thoughts away when he met Helen, but now he’s out of his shell and back in business, there’s no need to.

He’s always been one of the wolves, and now that he’s laid his eyes on his next meal, he will make sure there’s not a single thing that will get in his way to hunt her down.

He had a crisis for two days before doing the unexpected. It didn’t take long for John to find her. 

Now, John has been following her around for a week, and he noticed a certain pattern his little one likes to follow as she goes on her day.

The very place where they met is where she lives, surrounded by a bunch of goons who have no idea what to do with their lives. John begins to wonder why she’s living in a place like that. He could take her, put her somewhere safe, under his care and protection. Make sure no one will dare to lay a finger on her.

John knows where she works. At a veterinary clinic not too far from her apartment, which is why she walks to work every three in the afternoon, but not without stopping by in her favorite deli and getting a large order of her favorite sandwich. She’s a part-timer. She’d be at school from seven to twelve, and at work from three to eight.

John finds the little things she does amusing. He’d be seated in a cafe right across from her work, watching how she moves around her office through a big window, petting and cooing at the animals who come and go.

She’s so perfect, so pure, so naive. She has no idea that a monster is lurking ten feet away from her, watching her every move like a hawk, thinking about the ways he could destroy her, make her his.

John is not delusional. He’s fully aware of what he’s doing and he’s aware of what people might call him. 

Stalker.

Creep.

They don’t know him though. They don’t know why he acts this way. They’d do the same if they were him, that’s for sure. He’s not the bad guy here, he’s simply just protecting her little one, even from afar. John went as far as destroying a whole Russian Bratva for a mere puppy and a car, he’d do even worse if she’s somehow taken away from him.

John sees her exiting the building and his first thought is to follow her. He stands up from his seat, the cup of coffee long forgotten as he makes his way out of the café and keeps a safe distance between the two of them. It’s risky, especially in the broad daylight, but John knows she’s too oblivious to notice.

She’s with her friends this time, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by John how she clings at the shirt of her co-worker as they cross the street, small hands fisting at the fabric. He thinks about how he won’t ever let go of her hand once she’s his. He’s not big on physical affection, having to grow up with no parents and a rather strict orphanage, but maybe he could be gentle. Engulf her hand in his, stroke it with his thumb, tuck her hair behind her ears, show everyone that she’s already owned.

They wouldn’t dare to lay their hands on her again.

John walks in the middle of the sidewalk, not bothering to move away despite seeing people approaching. He doesn’t need to, the look in his face is enough for people to give him the way. It’s interrupted however, when someone does try to get in his way, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back a little.

John clenches his jaw, pissed. He takes his eyes from his little one and on the person who so rudely interrupted what he’s doing – it’s Marcus.

“John? I was just looking for you at the Continental.” Marcus has a small smile on his face, clearly not aware of John’s expression.

His eyes dart behind Marcus, where his little one is supposed to be, but she’s gone. John feels something curl in his stomach, his fingers itching again, eyes rapidly searching for her in the sea of people.

He looks at Marcus again, deciding he’ll just find her later, but he worries that something might happen to her now that John’s attention isn’t on her.

“Why?” he almost snaps, voice deep and laced with no emotion.

“Why? Because it’s been quite some time, John. I haven’t heard from you since the Iosef situation, but I did hear you’re back in business,” Marcus replies, but when he sees how distracted John looks, his voice falters. “You working?”

“Yeah.” The lie comes off smoothly. “I’ll see you around.”

John taps Marcus’ shoulder, trying to sound as polite as possible even though he badly wants to break a couple of his teeth for taking his attention away from her. He knows Marcus is probably noticing something, but John’s never the one to care.

Marcus drops the subject. “Alright, John. I’ll see you around.”

With that, John disappears in the crowd with no looking back.

It’s been awhile since John last took a job.

He can’t seem to take his eyes away from his little one. He can’t stop fucking stalking her from morning to night time.

John’s afraid that once he takes his attention from her even for a second, something bad might happen to her. It’s engraved in his mind that she can’t protect herself and he’s solely there to be the protector.

No one would understand. He’s doing this for her own good.

John’s absence at the Continental doesn’t go unnoticed by Winston and Charon. They’re his favorite, after all. Watch his every move carefully ever since that ugly murder John did. Perhaps he could make his next kill even uglier. To them, it’s vile and grotesque. For John, it’s special and unique.

This time, it took a good self-beating before John decided to take a contract. Three million to hunt down a rival crime lord, nothing he can’t handle, but somehow it brings an unusual feeling on his shoulder he isn’t fond of. Perhaps because John’s leaving his little one for a while and he isn’t quite sure what to feel. Worried and pissed – but mostly worried.

That is why he hired someone to trail his little one on his behalf. Everyone in business would do anything for a coin despite how fucked up disturbing it is. John offered a generous amount of coins to keep the assassin’s mouth shut, but he also held him at gunpoint and gave him a good talk before he sent the dog out in the field.

His only job is to keep an eye on her, report everything he’ll see to John, and maybe even take pictures for safety purposes.

John has been overseas in the last three days, and everything that’s been sent to him has been his only form of entertainment. There’s videos of her giggling with her friends, videos and photos of her in the library, outside her school, her work, and even in her apartment. There’s also information sent to him about the background of her friends – every single one of them, because John didn’t pay so much for nothing.

There’s one particular friend that ticks off John in all the worst way possible. He’s young, around her age, and the way he hugs and touches her just fucking sets him off. John wants to break his fingers in half. He reminds himself that once he’s home, he’ll make sure to take care of that boy himself.

“What else have you got?” John questions through the phone, and it doesn’t take long for his precious dog to respond.

“Oh, he is one creepy motherfucker. I’m starting to understand why you’re so riled up with this guy, boss. The urge to strangle him every time he gets in the picture gets stronger and stronger everyday.” He hears a laugh at the other end. The guy that’s working for him – Alex, if he remembers correctly – is young, new in business, knows not to fuck with John so he keeps his job adequate. If Alex ever notice how fucked up John is for making him follow a young woman to keep his life in order, he doesn’t say anything about it. “Just tell me when I can shoot this guy and I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

“Leave him. Keep an eye on him, but don’t kill him,” John advises, his tone leaving no room for discussion. “I’ll handle him myself when I get back. For the meantime, focus on Y/N and keep any troubles out of her way. Fail that task and I’d serve your head hot on a platter.”

“You got it, boss.”

John is playing nicely.

He’s not going to force his way into her life. He’s gonna be welcomed, with open arms, desired.

There are times he’d thought about giving in to his desperation and act with his dick instead of his head. There are times he’d thought about following her to a dark street, where no one’s around, he’s on the prowl and ready to pounce. He’d put a fabric against her mouth and nose, laced with enough chemicals to make her pass out and for him to carry her in his car with no problems whatsoever. John thinks about how he’d make it look like he’s just picking up his very drunk and passed out girlfriend and no one would know a goddamn thing.

John would keep her in his house where she won’t need anything but him. 

But of course, he’s not that cruel.

They’re only thoughts. Thoughts that he tries hard to keep away, but at the end of the day he reminds himself that he’s better than that.

John is not going to force his way into her life.

He’ll make sure to get her addicted enough to come crawling at his feet herself. She’ll be dependent on him, won’t be able to live without him. John will make sure his plan will go out smoothly or otherwise he’ll be the one bringing Hell with him on this land and seek as much havoc as he possibly can.

The death emissary himself will strike tonight.

A Friday night out with her friends has John on high alert. That’ll only mean she’s constantly surrounded with people, god knows what could happen if John even takes his eyes off her for a second. He lurks on the side, blending himself with the crowd as much as he can all while keeping his gaze on her. 

He doesn’t need any drugs to keep his mind insane, because the sight of a specific man getting very close to what’s his is enough to make him visualize all the ugly and twisted ways to kill a man.

She’s wearing a thin silky dress that’s low on her cleavage and shows her perky breasts. She’s currently the flame in a room full of moths, John included. Everyone’s eyes are on her, observing the way she sways her hips and sings along to the loud music – John’s fingers itch.

The itch to kill is back again, driving into his veins, his hands twitch on the table. John wants to pull out his gun and shoot everyone in this fucking room. He wants to stab them in the eyes one by one and make them feed it to themselves. He wants to grab this guy on the neck and slam his head against the wall repeatedly until his brain scatter all over the fucking place and there’s nothing left for him to ruin.

This guy is getting on his fucking nerves.

John watches as the man smoothly brings his arm on her shoulder, whispering something in her ear that doesn’t make her look so impressed. In fact, she looks disturbed, uncomfortable, tense. Despite the guy being her friend, John could tell she doesn’t feel comfortable with the way he’s showing her affection.

It’s hard to see her like this, but he knows he can’t just jump in between the two of them and beat the shit out of the guy until he chokes on his own blood. He’ll have to wait, maybe after this party, he’ll strike and discard the body in a way that’ll make even Winston spook in his sleep. It’s not a major offense to kill a man that’s not in the game anyway – or at least that’s what John tells himself.

This guy wouldn’t be able to be three feet near his little one once John’s done with him. He’ll be six feet under.

John sees her swiftly moving away from his touch, trying to make her rejection look as polite as possible, which receives a not-so-amused reaction from her little friend.

This guy doesn’t deserve her at all. No one does. Except maybe John, but that’s because he knows he’s capable of actually taking care of her and keeping her safe. Nobody would understand what he feels, what he yearns, what he wants.

Good girl, John thinks. Walk away.

His gaze follow her as she makes her way to the backdoor and out to the cold air of the city. John follows in a hurry, keeping a safe distance between the two of them, then opens the door as quietly as possible so he wouldn’t let his presence known.

There are a few people on the street, either having a smoke break or making out against the piss stained wall, but she stays just beside the busy road as she wraps her arms around herself.

His gaze burn daggers on her exposed back, the urge to cover her up with his jacket and take her home. A drunk man comes stumbling out of the club, accidentally tripping over his steps and he pushes her hard enough to make her yelp as her heels lose balance and almost making herself get run over by a passing truck.

Almost.

Everything happens so fast. One moment John is standing five feet from her, the next is he’s grasping her wrists in his hand and pulling her back to her feet and dragging her back to the curb. He was already on the act once he saw the man exiting the club, he knew exactly this would happen.

The scene looks strangely familiar, one John could never forget. The same position, same hand placement, same rough fingers around her wrist and dark eyes boring into hers – their very first meeting.

“You!” she gasps, not caring about the fact that she almost just got hit by a fucking truck. “I know you! You’re the guy outside my apartment that day! What are you doing here?”

John stares. Predictable. Of course she’s talking to him like they’ve known each other for years. She’s too friendly.

“Hello to you too,” John replies, though his tone is blank as well as his face. “You remember me.”

“‘Course I do,” she giggles, a little tipsy, pupils dilated and licking her lips nervously. “You’re pretty hard to forget. I remember asking my neighbors around the area if you’re new there, turns out you were just visiting.”

John furrows his brows, hand still not letting go of her wrist. What does she mean by she’s asked around the area about him?

His face must’ve looked confused, he sees her grinning childishly. “It’s a coincidence that I see you again!”

Not a coincidence, but fate.

John doesn’t believe in a lot of things, but he believes in fate. Fate brought him Helen, and now fate is bringing him another angel. If she really went as far as asking the neighborhood about his existence, then it must be fate.

“I’m Y/N. I figured if we keep bumping into each other then you should at least know my name,” she says, completely oblivious that John already knows everything that has to be known about her. From her little mannerisms to the last name of her fucking grandmother. “May I know yours or are you just gonna stare at me all night?”

“It’s John,” he gulps, not wanting to look like a loser in front of her, not after everything he went through for her. “It’s really nice to see you again.”

He sucks at this. He fucking sucks at this.

“You haven’t answered my question, by the way. What brings you here?”

It hangs in the air, John lets go of her wrist. Luckily, he thinks fast enough and says the first thing that comes to his mind. “Work.”

“Ah, work,” she nods. “You work here? In the club? What are you, a bouncer or something?”

“I don’t. Someone I work with is in the club.” A lie, but it’s not like she would know. “We had a talk.”

“Not really a man of words, eh?” she raises an eyebrow teasingly. 

“This is the most words I’ve said in the past few days,” John says. “I’d say you’re special.”

The look on her face is enough to make his entire night even better. Blushing, lips opening and closing, not knowing what to say. John wants to graze his thumb on her lips, thinking about how good it would feel stretching over his cock.

He blinks. Where did that come from?

“For someone who doesn’t talk much, you sure make it sound smooth when you do. Are you always this slick, John?” she giggles again, music to his ear. “That’s actually better than what I heard from my friend earlier, so thank you.”

“That’s good to know.”

Before she could say anything back, the door of the club opens once again and her friends appear, waving a hand at her and beckoning her to get inside. She looks at John, gives him a sympathetic look, as if apologizing that their talk gets cut off too soon.

“I’m really sorry but my friends want me back in there. Hopefully we can continue this again, yeah?” she smiles cheekily, tucking her hair behind her ear. “If you want, you could give me your number so we can talk someplace else? You know… with no one bothering us and all that.”

There it is. John didn’t think it would be this easy to sink the hook in. All he needs to do is pull and take what’s meant to be his.

“Sure.” He enters his number swiftly, feeling that familiar burn in his guts once again when he sees the wallpaper being her pretty face. “Feel free to message me whenever you want. I’ll make time for you.”

She looks at her phone and smiles before starting to walk away from him, waving a hand goodbye, but it doesn’t feel like a goodbye. John knows it isn’t. She’s already his the moment she started talking to him again.

“Of course! Get home safe, John! I’ll see you soon!” 

“You too.”

She doesn’t know John won’t be heading home any time soon until he knows she’s safe and sound in her apartment.

Jay Lopez.

The name burns on his tongue. Bitter and resentful. He stares at the photos his precious dog sent to him and he has to stop the impulse to burn every single one of them.

Jay Lopez is the guy that’s been leeching on his girl since the dawn of time, and thankfully John is here to put an end to it. 

He’s hideous. It’s interesting how John stooped this low that he’d be willing to kill a college student for being too near his little bambi, but alas, he’s never the one to care for such things. Morals and righteousness have never been in his book, not now, nor ever.

It’s only a matter of time until he gets rid of this pest. He’s fucking creepy, follows around not only Y/N but a bunch of other women. 

John doesn’t want his death to be quick and simple. He wants to do it in an ugly way, make sure his body will never be found, make sure he’ll never get to lay his hands and eyes on what’s his. The way Jay stares at her in these pictures ignites something evil within John’s veins. It’s been awhile since he felt something like this.

“Alex.” he looks at his pet standing by the door, waiting for the next command. “Bring him to me alive.”

“Can I at least rough him up a bit?”

John doesn’t answer at first, looks back at the photos on his table. “Do what you want, just make sure he’s still breathing when you bring him here.”

“On it, boss.”

Truth be told, John doesn’t need a pet to order around for this job. He has himself – a labeled attack dog of the Tarasovs for years, their hellhound, chained and muzzled unless they need him to kill. He’s a one man army as some would say, he doesn’t need Alex running around doing tasks for him, but it sure does make the job a lot faster.

It’s not a way to downgrade his reputation nor skills to hunt, he really just needs this Jay guy gone as fast as possible.

On the same day, Alex manages to haul a very brutally violated Jay to the floor of his basement. He stinks, pants wet from piss and a face John is having a hard time recognizing.

“You said rough him up a bit, not make him look unrecognizable.”

“Same thing.”

Jay is sobbing his eyes out, his cries of pleas falls to deaf ears and John just wants to fucking bash his skull with his own foot. “W-who are you guys?! What the f-fuck did I do?! Get me out of here or I’ll tell the fucking police–”

John kicks him on the chin hard to stop the goon from rambling. “You’re not telling anybody any shit, tough guy.”

“So, what are you planning to do to him? Can I watch?”

“Can you handle it?”

Alex shrugs. He’s in the presence of the most dangerous assassin in the underworld, wouldn’t hurt to learn anything from his skills and techniques, doesn’t matter how fucked up it is.

John nods towards the chainsaw sitting at the corner of the room, and Alex turns to face him with wide eyes. “Jesus Christ, man. You serious? Last time I heard you’re a hitman, not a serial killer.”

“Same qualifications. Same thing.” John grabs the man by the arm then drags him to a chair. He takes a rope from the table and swiftly ties him up securely. “We start with the head, then arms and legs. It would be hard to put his entire body in a drum full of acid, so we need to cut him off one by one.”

Alex looks like he’s about to run off somewhere safe from what he’s witnessing. “You’re talking like you’ve done this before, holy fuck.”

John gives him a look, and Alex immediately shuts his mouth. Right. He’d done this before. This is completely normal.

“I’ve been following you for a while, Jay. You’re a creep who befriends pretty girls, then you’ll drug them and make them have sex with you,” John taunts, the sound of his heels hitting the concrete floor is enough to send shivers down his spine. “Is that what you’re also planning to do with Y/N? Be her friend and fuck her once she’s drugged up and vulnerable?”

It’s a bold statement coming from John himself since he’s no better man than Jay, but at least his intentions come from a different place.

“You-you’re fucking sick!” Jay spits.

“I’m sick? I’m not the one going around making girls uncomfortable now, am I?” he picks up the chainsaw, then watches in enjoyment as Jay widens his eyes in fear. “We’re going to have a lot of fun, Jay. You won’t be able to use your pathetic little dick of yours to any woman ever again, and most importantly –”

John fires up the chainsaw, adrenaline coursing through his veins when he sees the horrified look in the man’s face as he tries to get up and scream for help.

“I can finally sleep well at night knowing you’re not in Y/N’s life anymore.”

As John steps into the light, a roaring chainsaw in his hands, Alex could only watch in horror as the basement gets painted with blood in mere seconds.

There’s a vacant apartment just across her room, giving John the perfect view of what she’s doing while she’s alone.

Most of the time, John will pull up a seat beside the window and take pictures. The other half of the time is just him staring, observing. It seems that she’s too comfortable knowing there’s no one across the building so she doesn’t close the curtains, leaving John no choice but to keep his eyes on her.

He found this place just three days after following her. He couldn’t help it. Following her to school and work suddenly wasn’t enough for John that he had to find a way to somehow watch her even in her sleep. 

He should be ashamed of himself. He should feel guilty for what he’s doing – he should stop, but he just can’t. John’s already done too much. This is like being pulled back into the underworld all over again but this time, there’s something good that’s waiting for him on the other side.

Maybe it’s the delusion that comes with it that’s not stopping John from whatever he’s doing. Lately, he’s been thinking about how life would turn out to be if his plan goes out smoothly. They’d live happily ever after, she would end up loving him just the way he planned it out to be, and John will make sure no one will ever dare to take those peace away from him again.

He’d make sure no one will ever come close to her again once she’s his. She’d be isolated but protected. Just how John likes it.

It’s been two days since John gave his number, but he knows she’s just giddy and nervous to text him. He’d seen her staring at her phone, biting her bottom lip anxiously, thinking if it would be a good idea or not. He knows she’ll give in one way or another because he sees it in her face. She’s too easy, too gullible, too naive.

She’s lonely, just like him.

John could tell she’s waiting for someone – she’s desperate, no wonder she asked for his number the second time they met. She wants someone to take care of her, to hold her, tell her that she deserves the world. That someone is John whether she likes it or not.

This isn’t just any unhealthy obsession. John finds himself too deep to get out. He knows her little mannerisms, studied her every action, has a red room full of her pictures and no one can’t say he’s not ready to give up anything for her. John has already given up his sanity ever since he mutilated a man for being too close to her.

She’s his life now, his everything.

John watches intensely as she shreds her clothes in her room, baring him the full view of herself naked, and John grips the side of his chair too hard his knuckles turn white. This is the first time he’d seen her naked, it’s so sudden and so… perfect.

His cock fattens in his pants as he observes every curve of her body. Her waist is fucking perfect and her body is thick yet delicate. John thinks about bruising her sensitive skin, leaving a mark that will show everyone that she’s owned. He would love to see her in a collar, hear it jingle when she crawls. 

She’s completely fucking naked that John wonder just how naive she is to think there would be no one seeing her like this. What if John isn’t the only one watching her? What if somebody else sees her like this? His fingers itch, jaw clenching.

He’d kill them. He’d kill them in front of her, and the thought somehow made his cock hard even more. He grimaces, disturbed at the reaction of his body.

John doesn’t really understand the sexual aspects of killing, but now he’s thinking about how she would react if she sees him working. He’d kill someone in front of her and he’d see the look of disgust and betrayal in her face. He can already imagine how her eyes would well up with tears and fuck, his dick shouldn’t be this hard.

She’d fear him, and John would be turned on. How fucked up would that be? Just how fucked up can his mind get?

He resists the urge to wrap his hand around his cock because fuck no. He would not stoop this low, he is not a teenage boy. No matter how strong the thoughts get, the thoughts of wrapping his own hand around her neck, squeezing it hard and cutting off her airflow as John forces his cock in her cunt, hearing her mewl and scream and beg to just –

John sucks in air, eyes back on her in her room, wrapping a robe around herself and heading to the bathroom. This is fucked up. His cock is incredibly hard and leaking, and his mind won’t stop thinking about how good her pussy would feel around him.

He’d talk her through it. Whisper sweet nothings in her ear as she releases around her cock, praising her for being such a good girl. Then he’d fuck her again, in a different position, debauching her in different ways not even the devil himself could think of.

John would ruin her, and she will have no choice but to accept it.

He brings his hand to his face as he sighs deeply. He wonders what Helen would feel of what he’s doing. Disgusted, no doubt. This is not the same man she fell in love with years ago. He would never do something like this, but fate has its plans, and John believes everything happens for a reason.

She was brought into his life for a reason and it’s up to him whether he takes.

John doesn’t realize that he’s been staring at nothing for too long until she comes back in his view once again. Her hair is still wet, still wrapped up in a fluffy pink robe, and John’s fingers itch to grab, squeeze, possess.

He sees her picking up her phone, staring for a moment before her fingers start typing. John has been anticipating this moment for so long, the time has finally come.

In his chest pocket, his phone buzz silently, the vibration sending excitement in his whole body.

There it is.

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : hello! this is Y/N from the club the other night

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : also that Y/N who returned your super expensive looking coin hehe ;) i hope you didn’t forget about me!

There it fucking is.

John’s lips curl into a small smile. His efforts are finally paying off. 

All he needs to do is to get what’s his.

[nescaveckwriter]

Hurting Angel - Chapter One 🥰

Crowley x reader (also known as Bri)

Chapter One 🐞

A/N: Hey my bugsies, so this was requested by a beautiful anonymous bugsie, I sure do hope y'all are going to enjoy this series...🥰💓

Side Note: Let me know what y'all think, also thank you all for the support - also all my stories can be found on watpad aswell.🥹🤭

Warnings: Blood, thriller, horror, sarcasm, mentioning of guns, if there's anything else, let me know... Much love "Nesca" 🐞

Go on a blind date they said, it'll be fun they said. You need to get out more Bri, they said. " Remind me again why I agreed to download the stupid dating app, signing up for it in the first place was crazy, damn freaking nuts. "

Stirring the drink at the bar, not really feeling like drinking, but hey its a bar, its what your supposed to do right!

The bartender basically screaming over the loud music, 'you okay miss?'

"Yeah of course never been better, love getting stood up," her lips pursed

The barman didn't quite know how to answer that, so he just walked further down to the other end.

Irritated about the fact you got stood up and that it bothers you a tiny bit, you pull out your phone, texting the babysitter, asking if everything is still alright, with Lainey.

The text came through, "Little Lainey is watching my little pony and she already had her dinner, enjoy yourself a bit darling" Mrs Anderson is the only person she trusts with Lainey.  Biting her lip, maybe I should stay a little longer, just enjoy myself for awhile, unwind, the story about the biggest crime syndicate is really taking over my damn life, I'm this close, mimicking with her index finger and thumb, to uncovering the face behind the leader, his code name "The Devil" a crooked smile on her lips, its such a stupid nickname, like are the people supposed to be immediate, well like yeah, here comes the little red man, with his pointy tail and ears, with his little pitch fork, all I know for sure is his name is Crowley, and he goes by the devil, as for how he looks, I'll find that out very soon, well as soon as my source comes through anyway.

''Drinking alone and looking as beautiful as you, is just a crime'' the silvery voice says, breaking her out of her deep thoughts. Turning her head to the barstool next to hers. ''Oh really? last time I checked there's a lot worse crimes in this world'', sounding a little more snarky than she intended. The man with his neatly combed over blonde hair and blue eyes laughs, ''not in the mood for company?'' 

''In all honesty, not if your going to tell me cheesy pick up lines all night'' she sighed.

''Your safe, I promise, that was my last, you have my word'' he laughed

''Okay good! Then your more than welcome to join me,'' sounding inviting

The man, asks for the bartender to give them two more, of whatever she's having. After getting your drinks, the two of you talked, not really exchanging names, merely about how noisy it is, and the fact that, they both got stood up. Still laughing and having fun, some guy bumps into your chair, letting your handbag fall to the ground. ''Hey! Look where you going buddy'' she warned. The guy just gestures a sorry and keeps on stumbling further. 

''This place is getting to crowded, I'm going to head home, as soon as I finish the last few sips'', she expressed

''Leave now? We are just getting to know each other'', his silvery voice, sounded so smooth.

''Biting her lip, yes thank you for the nice chat'' getting up, to only fall back again, holding her head in her hand, "oh wow, how is it possible that I feel so lightheaded, I had two drinks," everything is spinning, my body feels so numb, so outside of myself. Fumbling through her handbag, trying to take her phone. Hearing the bartender say something, the man next to her, sounded so disembodied when he answered, looks like she had a bit to much to drink, I'll take her home, taking ahold of her arm, let's get you home!

Something is wrong, has she been drugged? Trying to get her arms to function to push him away, so that she can get out of his grip, but her body feels weak, her muscles is losing all functionality, as for her eyelids it feels as heavy as stone, she whispers a shaky "no" before everything goes. dark.

Her eyes starting to slightly open, "w..what happened", she mumble's. Glancing over the room, to see if she recognises anything, her view is hazy "where's the man that took her" hearing the dripping sound of water, "it's freezing" breathing heavily, excruciating pain shuttering throughout her body, feeling still slightly numb, tracing her fingers over her abdomen area, her hands trembling when she feels a long incision, and the thread of a wound being closed up, unknowingly tugs at the pointy strand, "what the hell" she gasped.

Forcing herself to see more clearly, glancing down, shaking uncontrollable, her eyes widening, her body is laying in a bathtub covered with ice, some crystal clear, others stained with red, most likely from the blood, still seeping through her left side. "My side its sliced open" she yelled, as if she only realized that what she felt previously was her own body.

Searching across the bathroom, for anything other than the dripping sound and the shaking of her own body, she grabs ahold of the bathtub, her fingers a discoloration of blueish-white, forcing her body over the edge, plumping to the ground, "dammit" she exclaims. Dragging herself across the floor, moaning and whimpering in pain.

Opening the wooden door slowly to peek through, to see if anyone is stil there keeping watch, sighing in relief, "the coast is clear. " Crawling to the edge of the bed, trying to get up, still shaking and weak, she forces herself up, rolling over, taking in a deep breath, her heart is beating rapidly, her throat dry, her voice sounding hoarse. "I need to get to a phone, hospital something"

Grabbing a blanket to wrap up her shaking body, that's only covered in a black sports bra and her black shorts, making her way to a shaky stance. Holding onto whatever she can find as she stumbles out of the room. The bright streetlights making her eyes burn, glaring down the stairs," really the least they could do is butcher me on ground level" irritation in her painstaking voice.

Dragging one foot across the other, down the steel staircase. Searching the parking lot for a vehicle or help of some sort. There in the corner, an old chevy Camaro, "almost there" she sighs.

Pulling the door, praying it isn't locked, "yes, its open" a half smile forming on her tired face. Hoping the keys are still inside, she gets in. "Dammit, no keys, why would it be easy, nothing is every easy" her voice low and weak.

Pulling the ignition with every last bit of strength she has, "need something to strip the plastic covered wires" peeking through the car, in the window hangs a beer opener, reaching for it, taking it to the wires, pulling it across the starter wire, striping the plastic about 1'3 inches back, then doing the same with the battery wire, touching the two ends together, something she learned when she was a teenager, "Come on baby, come, there you go, that's a girl" she whined.

Throwing it in drive, and stepping on the gas, she drives off, leaving a man in her rear view window chasing after her.

Looking at the street signs, trying to read it, but its all a blur, turning down the first left she can find, looks like a residential area, "maybe I can get some help here" she utters desperately.

Feeling the blood rolling down her side onto her thighs, her breathing more shallow and her eyes heavy, knowing she needs help quick! Real quick! Making her foot heavy on the gas, not taking the turn in consideration, she crashes into a wall,  making her head jolt to the steering wheel, glancing over the shattered windscreen, at two men with weapons, running towards her, she looses consciousness.

Chapter Two Here 🐞

[neon-green-reagent]

Ranked: Leprechaun

Yep. I watched every Leprechaun movie. And you know what? I'm extremely happy that I did. This series is an absolute blast. Maybe I can convince you of that. We'll see.

Leprechaun: Origins : The weird thing about this movie is that it isn't a bad film. It's just an extremely bad Leprechaun film. If you're unfamiliar, the Leprechaun is a mischievous, funny, quippy asshole. For whatever reason, they decided to make this version dead silent. So no more jokes. Also, it looks like a creature from The Descent. Just a gray goblin. That means we're now in creature feature territory, and I wouldn't really call this a slasher anymore. The movie is serviceable as a monster movie, but it doesn't do anything especially thrilling, and it kicks all the other movies right in the face by changing the main villain so drastically. Also, origins? Of who or what? The Leprechaun? It's set in modern day... I just don't...

Leprechaun Returns : Eeeeee, okay. This is the latest movie. They rerailed the derailment of Origins with jokes and quips and making it a direct sequel to the first film. And it's... pretty meh. You know how, when Jackie Earle Haley replaced Robert Englund as Freddy... It's not that it was a BAD performance so much as not the same? Feels off? Yeah, that. They're not recapturing the magic like they'd hoped. Not to mention the movie knows it's shitty, so it keeps winking at the camera, and I'm obstinately telling my screen, "no. No, I refuse to be in on the joke, shut up." The whole time. It had its moments, but they were few. This was mostly just me wishing Warwick Davis was back.

Leprechaun : The very first movie, yeah. We started with a fizzly little fart, truly. It's a movie that's shockingly boring. With a lot of battle of the sexes humor that had me screaming into my hands. Our heroes do a lot of nothing. And while Warwick Davis as the titular villain proves to be very memorable right out of the gate, they struggle to find things for him to do. Apparently this was a family movie that became an R-rated horror film via reshoots. There's a lot of him wandering around, finding a stranger, and doing something magically delicious to them. But those moments are a little too few and far between. Still, that pogo death tho.

Leprechaun: Back 2 Tha Hood : Leprechaun in the Hood was a surprising success for the series. So they did it again. But worse? Not sure why you'd do that, but they did. Look out for a lot of special effects failures, uncomfortably close close-ups, and thin characters being stupid when the plot requires it. The kills are even hard to enjoy because of all the continuity errors within them. But if you're looking for a bad time while imbibing your drug of choice with friends? Here it is.

Leprechaun 2 : They were still pretty sure everyone wanted to see a constantly arguing couple fight the Leprechaun, and that's a shame, but at least he gets to do more here. The cast of characters is much more colorful than the first film, with a lot more silly gags and over the top acting. Basically, it takes a couple of movies before I decide a franchise isn't for me, and this is the point in my journey when I saw this had immense potential. That it was beginning to live up to with this extremely wacky and fun villain.

Leprechaun in the Hood : This film is incredibly well rounded. You care about the characters. I know, what a shock! In my comedy horror series? The deaths hold weight. Leprechaun being out of his element and still managing to rule to roost is very amusing. Ice-T knew what movie he was in. There is a major misstep with a trans character; I want to be clear and warn about that. But that is genuinely the only thing the movie gets wrong. It handles the plight of inner city guys just trying to make it better than you'd expect. While also being openly so bad, it's good.

Leprechaun 4: In Space : You read that right. Leppy-poo can join the ranks of Pinhead and Jason Voorhees. Also, he's treated like an alien? Instead of a magical creature from folklore? And it's Aliens but if it was stupid? And there's a morally bankrupt scientist who talks in a kind of wink-wink German accent. Who also becomes a parody of Brundlefly. Throughout the course of the movie, the Leprechaun has a lightsaber, gets blown up, returns to life by crawling out of a penis, flattens someone's face cartoonishly with a pan, becomes giant, explodes in the vacuum of space... I love this. Okay? I love this.

Leprechaun 3 : The perfect Leprechaun movie. They figured out FINALLY that what we want is MORE LEPRECHAUN. More of him hamming it up. More mugging for the camera. Weirder, magical kills. Warwick Davis having the time of his life. MORE MORE MORE. And we got it. Set in Las Vegas, which is perfect considering all I just said. A city of excess for a film of excess. There are human villains, plucky heroes. A guy starts turning into a Leprechaun and eating too many potatoes. This scrumptiously dumb shit is what I live for with this series. This is the tiptop of cheesy horror comedy goodness.

So Leprechaun is one of my favorite slasher villains now. My respect for Warwick Davis for bringing him to such vibrant life is through the roof. Man's a genius. It was also stunning to watch someone with a disability do the majority of his own extremely physical stunts in these films. What a fucking king. I'd love to see him return to the series, and until he does, if more of these get made, I'll watch with... my expectations sadly lowered.

[brokensenseofhumor]

Well, due to… unforeseen events:

Ladies, gents and whatever else genders there are! We here at BSOH’s Brain Inc. are more than glad to bring back..

THE PIMON THEORY!!

Yes, that’s right, folks! After a long hibernation, this series is finally back with its 5th episode!

The tf2 hyperfixating may be strong, but the love for Pimon is stronger.

Anyways, TO THE THEORIES!!

Spoilers for Chapter 35 btw!!

For reasons, I’ll be using the Indonesian translation for this episode. Massive thank you to Alex Scanlations and the YouTuber Taochan!

Theory 1: Yakuza?

Ok so, amidst my hibernation of this series, I finally ended up with the conclusion that Pimon definitely isn’t the Paimon from the Ars Goetia and he’s really just some guy. I know, lame ass ending to such an amazing theory…

HOWEVER.

Chapter 35 really changes everything, man. I did not headcannon Pimon as a French butcher for months just for this to slap me in the face.

So, how am I coming to the conclusion that Pimon has associations with the Yakuza?

Plain and simple:

There’s many references to Japanese culture in the first portion of the chapter.

To start:

He’s wearing a freaking Kimono. I am definitely not internally screaming in Simp Mode right now, nonononooo!! (<- me when I lie)

Secondly:

Ohhhh, hey Ambrose! What’s that behind you?-

Why, it’s The Great Wave Off Kanagawa, of course!

I’ll take this time to list some facts about this piece of art:

It was painted in 1831

This technically isn’t a painting, it is a Ukiyo-e Woodblock print (a genre of Japanese art that is made with, well… woodblocks.)

It is the most recognizable Japanese painting ever

AND FINALLY:

Another painting, this time depicting (presumably) Mount Fuji, and below are 2 katanas.

Also, not to mention, there was a surge in Japanese immigrants in the UK during the Victorian era. There were exactly 264 Japanese immigrants in 1884 (see: Wikipedia, Japanese in the United Kingdom, History and Settlement section).

…so yea, it’s basically safe to say that Pimon is very much Japanese. Yippee for diversity and fanfic ideas ig!

So, now that all these references to Japanese culture are out of the way-

How is Pimon related to the Yakuza?

Well, for a starter point, Pimon literally owns a black market that sells narcotics and weapons.

There is also the fact that the Yakuza is dated back to the 17th Century, while the manga takes place in the 19th.

So, it’s very much possible that Pimon is operating his own business with the help of Arthur, while his “family” is operating back in Japan or elsewhere around the world.

Theory 2: Death foreshadowed?

If this one is true I’m going into a mental spiral, I’m genuinely serious. I’ve had full on mental breakdowns over this goddamn fictional man not appearing in chapters. If Fukui Takumi kills him off, I’m killbinding.

In these 2 panels, Ambrose (the white chess piece) is beating Pimon (the black chess piece) in a game of chess.

And it’s the way that the second is dramatized that has me rolling. The dramatic shadows, the way it looks like the black chess piece is melting into the board… dear god.

I’m just… ugh. Fukui Takumi, if you kill Pimon, you will not hear the end of it, courtesy of me.

And folks, that is it for today! We hope you enjoyed the grand return of The Pimon Theory, and we’ll see you again on episode 6! Sayonara!

[theasstour]

Sweet Creature. 01.

31 December 2015: You two meet.

Pairing: Y/N and Harry

Word count: 3.3k

NB: explicit language, alcohol

You had only started working at BBC Radio 1 in October, but Nick and you had already hit it off. Of course, you had made other friends at work as well, but there was something special about Nick. As lunch breaks came around, he’d haul you outside and the two of you would eat and talk, having a laugh while doing so. Since you had come to London to work toward your dream of working at a radio company and to be where everything happened, your main priority hadn’t been to make friends. But Nick made life in London easy for you. You had met loads of people through him, but so far he was the only one that you felt like you could fully be yourself around. It was because of the two of you getting so close that he invited you to his New Year’s Party. He told you that you needed to come because it wouldn’t be a party without you. You frowned on this, because you, Nick and the rest of the population on Earth knew that you were not the life of the party. Even drunk, you were as lowkey as they got. Even so, you couldn’t say no, so you decided to actually go to Nick’s small party.

You arrived 15 minutes too late, knowing that Nick wouldn’t mind and that he’d be very keen to introduce you to everyone that had arrived so far.

“I was just about to serve dinner without you.” Nick said as he let you inside, taking your coat to hang on the coat-hangers on the white wall.

“Sorry, perfection takes time.” You joke, making Nick chortle a little before he walks you into the dining area.

“Everyone, this is [Y/N]!” Before you can do anything but wave awkwardly, Nick pushes you to sit down by a free chair by the end of the table. Sitting down opposite you, Nick smiles and then continues on to introduce everyone around the table. Feeling slight anxiety bubble up, you struggle to remember all the names, but there are a few familiar faces like Alexa Chung and Rita Ora that Nick has introduced you to earlier.

“I’m serving Domino’s pizza and champagne.” He tells you as the chatter around the table continues on. “Doubtfully the best New Year’s Eve party you’ve ever been to.”

“The classiest.” You announce, making Nick smile and drag a hang through his hair. You noticed in the way Nick kept glancing toward the door that there was something he wasn’t telling you.

“What’s-“

But before you could finish the question, the doorbell went off and Nick shot up from his chair, practically running toward the hallway. The others around the table watched their friend as well, and you even shared a confused look with Alexa before Nick came grinning back into the dining area.

“Last guest is here, we can finally eat that bloody pizza. [Y/N] help me out.”

You got up from your seat and walked over to the kitchen where Nick had been keeping the pizzas warm. Placing the two pizzas on some fancy plates, you walked over to the dining table to see the last guest sitting in the chair next to yours. His long, dark locks trailed all the way down to below his shoulders, the red, floral shirt he wore loose over his upper-body while his black jeans were the opposite to his lower half. Needless to say, Nick knew that you had been a bit of a fan of One Direction back in the day and so there was no doubt in your mind that he had seated Harry next to you intentionally. And you suddenly realised why he had been so keen on having you here tonight.

“Haz,” Nick said as he walked in first, placing the pizza plates he held down on the table as you followed suit. “This is [Y/N]. [Y/N], this is Harry.”

Harry looked up at you and you swear you saw him stop a little in his tracks as he was about to raise to shake your hand properly. With his mouth ever so slightly open and the hint of a smile on his lips, Harry reached his hand out for you.

“Pleasure.” He said, licking his lips in such a way that you knew you’d think about it when you went to sleep that night.

You gave him a smile back and sat down, looking at Nick as he gave you a not-so-subtle look. There was something in that look that you didn’t really know how to depict. Nick’s eyes trailed over to Harry and as you looked at your seating-partner, he only gave you a small smile before looking down at his plate. You too watched your plate for a little bit before you let the weird events from earlier pass, choosing to talk a little and engage in the conversation that was going on around the table.

The night went on and soon all the pizza was gone and the champagne went with it. Not that you had had a lot to drink, but due to the volume in the room, you knew that everyone else had. You didn’t mind, though, watching Nick tell elaborate sex stories and gossip about people at work had you intrigued for hours. It was only when it was soon to strike midnight that Nick stopped talking and found the last bottle of champagne he had for the evening. You could feel Harry’s arm brush yours before he cleared his throat and watched Nick run off to the kitchen cabinet with all the alcohol. It was a slight touch of flesh to flesh, but it still made you draw in a little breath. Instead of telling yourself this was an actual, genuine reaction your body had to him, you told yourself this was most likely because you had been a fan and that you still kind of were. It was Harry Styles after all, he would never in a million lightyears be attracted to you. And he as most likely the most stunning specimen to breath oxygen. That was why your body was tingling where his skin had touched yours, no other reason.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Harry had felt that brush too, he had initiated it in fact. When you shook his hand earlier he had felt some sort of reaction, something that made his skin prickle in a wonderful, almost hypnotizing way. He wanted to see if he could feel it again, and as his skin brushed yours, he couldn’t help but clear his throat and look in the opposite direction of you, knowing that a small blush was creeping up his cheekbones. Another thing you didn’t know was that Harry literally had to stop for a second when he saw you. However ridiculous it sounded, it was true, and he couldn’t quite believe how hopeless he was himself. There was just something about this radiant and magnificent beauty of yours that had him stopping in his tracks at the first sight of you. Harry didn’t believe in love at first sight; hell, he wasn’t even sure if ‘the one’ was a legitimate concept. But he knew that if he didn’t get to know you tonight, he would most likely regret it for a long, long time.

“Let’s go to the balcony and get ready for the countdown!” Nick shouted, receiving a howl from all the drunks around the table.

Smiling, you got up and started walking to the hallway to retrieve your coat, something none of the other guests seemed to think was a good idea.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one knowing it will be freezing out there.” A deep voice sounded, and as you look to your left to find Harry standing there with both his hands in his jean pockets as he takes slow steps toward you and the coat-hangers.

“Think they’re too drunk to feel by this point.”

Harry let a small chuckle pass his lips as he took his coat down from the hanger, putting it on while watching you tie a scarf around your neck. Though you had told yourself your fascination in him was only there because of your previous obsession with One Direction, it didn’t stop you from taking him in. Those pink lips of his were wet after he had just had the lower one pressed between his teeth, his eyes such a green colour in the dim light of the hallway that it made you wonder what they looked like in the sun.

“Why aren’t you drinking?” You asked Harry without really registering that you had.

Harry seemed a little shocked at your utterance as well, but he brushed it off with a slight huff of air and a sideways smirk. “Would you believe a guy if he told you he didn’t feel like it?”

You cocked your head a little to the side, feeling a slight rush of confidence taking over you. An unusual feeling. “Depends on the guy.” You say before you start walking toward the balcony.

Harry is left staring after you, a little smile on his lips as he notes the way you walk toward the balcony. It wasn’t a walk that told everyone that you owned the room, rather a walk that said you didn’t want to. You liked not having all eyes on you, to be someone under the radar. To Harry, he hadn’t seen anything as attractive on a woman in all his 21 years. A smile crept over his face as a feeling of intrigue took over him. Walking after you, he knew this evening was crucial for how you two would work out. He already knew that he wanted things done the right way, he didn’t want to rush anything as you were the first “regular” girl Nick had tried to set him up with. Everyone else had been quite high-profile people, but… you weren’t. You were different.

You stood leaning against the railing as Nick asked over and over again who fancied opening the champagne bottle at midnight. It was 15 minutes away, but you knew Nick was impatient and he would have a hard time choosing over all his guests, who all seemed more than eager to open it. You suddenly felt something brush your right arm again and as you looked to your right, Harry stood there leaning against the railing as well, looking at you with the smallest grin on his lips.

“So,” he said, dragging out the word a little as your lips stretched out into a smile to match his. “Am I that kind of guy who you’d believe if told you he didn’t feel like drinking?”

So not to overwhelm yourself, you glanced out over London, loads of sounds and lights erupting from a city that never slept. This was your first New Years here after all, but it never ceased to amaze you how alive London was. The city had its own heartbeat, you had thought to yourself more than once.

“Hm,” you thought, teasing Harry as you waited to answer. “What’s your favourite alcoholic drink?”

“Any drink?”

“Anything.”

Harry let out a breath. “Probably Martini.” Harry answered, but then went on, “Or Sex on the Beach.”

“You are indecisive.” You note, still not taking your eyes off the city before you. Harry is still watching you, though. “Meaning that you’ve tasted a lot of different types of alcohol. So, I’d say you’re not.” You joke, hoping Harry will sense it.

Harry let’s a grin spread out across his lips, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he glances down at his hands holding one another. You suddenly feel anxiety press on as you thought he didn’t knew you were teasing him. Just as you were about to tell him how you were kidding, Harry started talking.

“I did party a whole lot back when I was 18, 19.” Harry admitted, looking out at London as well, trying not to stare back into your eyes as you let yourself study him where he stood by you. “I mean, at 18 I was legally allowed to drink here in the UK, so I took advantage of that. Big time.”

You let out a giggle, something that makes Harry smile and give you a short glance.

“Believe me, I know a good night out, I really do, but I just went on a break from the band, so I just thought I’d take it slow for a while.”

The sound of something shattering stopped your conversation, and as you looked down, Nick had lost the champagne bottle down on the pavement below. There was a slight silence before everyone erupted into laughter. You and Harry shared a little look before both of you watched your drunk friends as they clapped and hit each other on the back like they had just won gold in the Olympics.

“We’ll just have to go into 2016 with Absolut Vodka then. I’ll get the shot glasses!” Nick ran into the flat again, some of his friends following to help him out.

“I’m not even going to try and stop that.” Harry mumbles, making you laugh. Glancing up at you, a small spark lights up in the pit of his stomach and he bites his lip as he watches you look out over London again. Sticking his nails into the skin of his hands, he told himself to relax and not look too much into all of this.

“Anyway,” you sigh, looking at Harry as he looks down at the shattered bottle on the pavement below. “You were saying?”

Harry nodded, his green eyes meeting yours. You might not see the stars here in the thick of London, you thought to yourself, but Harry’s eyes were so damn close to replacing the concept of stars so it didn’t really matter.

“I just got on the hiatus, so I want to take it slow for a little while. Catch up on some sleep that I’ve lost over the last 5 years.”

You smile. “So you’re only going to sleep on your break? You don’t have anything else planned?”

Such a dazzling smirk spread out over his face then that you were happy you were leaning on something or else your legs would have given in. “What are you suggesting?”

“Oh, nothing.” You look away from him again, holding on to your scarf as a chilly wind blows past the two of you.

Harry only raises his eyebrows at you, but you don’t utter a single word. Where all this confidence came from was a mystery to you. Somehow, you had saved up confidence all your life for this moment and you were alright with that. If confident meant keeping your cool right now, then you were going to give it all you got.

“I mean,” Harry shrugged, getting his hair out of his face as the wind had blow it out of place. “I could fit something in between naps, but it’s a tight schedule.”

You giggle at him just as Nick and his two friends come back to the balcony with loads of shot glasses. Harry and you watch as Nick tries not to lose all of them and it is miracle that he doesn’t. A part of you tells you to start up your conversation with Harry, you two are really flirting with one another and you haven’t made yourself cringe yet. This is a miracle and you need to take advantage of this surge of confidence you have. But just as you are about to look back at him, Alexa shouts, “10, 9, 8-“

Losing yourself somewhere in between the shouts of numbers and the little time left 2015 had on this globe, you look over your shoulder at Harry. He is already staring at you, the playful grin that occupied his lips only a minute ago all gone. There is something intense, something absolutely captivating about the way he looks at you. It seemed like the firework could go off in the distance, but he’d still look at you because somehow you were more breath taking.

“-3, 2, 1; Happy New Year!”

The fireworks of London go off in the distance and everyone starts to cheer, hug and kiss one another. Anxiety and anticipation bubbles up in you as Harry take a step closer to you. You tried not to let yourself see too much into this, the two of you had just met after all, but you wanted this to be more than just that. Harry didn’t get to take another step toward you, though, because Nick jumped over to him and kissed his friend right on the lip.

“Happy New Year, Harry!”

And then he turned around, kissing you as well.

“Happy New Year, [Y/N]!”

You watched as Nick went around kissing all of his guests on the mouth, the cheering of London and the sound of fireworks as background noise for the cinematic masterpiece that was Nicholas Grimshaw as drunk. Letting yourself laugh, you look down at the ground, noticing a reminder on your phone that you have work tomorrow morning at 6. Not wanting to remind Nick of this since he’s got such an amazing time, you only look up at Harry.

“I’ve got to go.” You say, not really knowing why you are feeding him this information.

Harry’s eyebrows make one as a look of confusion washes over his face. “What?”

“I have work in the morning, and I respect myself enough not to stay up until 4am.”

Harry inhales sharply, retaking that step toward you that Nick made him walk back. Resting his hands in the pockets of his coat, he looks down at you with the same mesmerizing gaze he has held all evening. “When will I see you again?”

You give him a little smile. “Well, that’s up to fate to decide.” You say, using that last drop of confidence you have left. “And your nap schedule, of course.”

Harry’s mouth tips up to the left, revealing an adorable dimple. “Of course.”

“Harry!” Alex shouts, waving him over to her.

“Wait just a sec, Alexa.” He holds up a finger to her before looking back at you. “When are you free?”

“Harry, Alexa has a shot waiting for you.” Nick says, draping a lazy arm around Harry’s shoulders. “You need to take it.”

“Nick-“

“-And I know you’re leaving, [Y/N], but just remember to call me tomorrow when you wake up so I can try and make it on time as well, yea?” Nick points a finger at you, booping your nose so a smile comes over your features.

“I will.” You look at Harry. “I’ll see you around.”

“Wait-“

“-Bloody hell, Harry, get over here!” Alexa dragged him over, not giving Harry a chance to ask for your number before you left. You showed yourself out as you put a reminder on your phone to wake Nick the next morning. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Harry staring after you, the shot in his hand. You gave him a little smile before you disappeared from view, your heart racing immediately at the thought of the night’s events. You had been only seconds away from kissing Harry Styles. Harry fucking Styles.

And Harry himself, couldn’t believe that bloody Nick had ruined the possible kiss. Wasn’t he supposed to set you two up? Why ruin the moment? He made a mental note to ask Nick for your number when Nick was sober. Taking the shot, Harry closed his eyes and knew that he wouldn’t be able to get you out of his head until next time you two met. Hopefully fate would let it be sooner rather than later, Harry found himself thinking, because he wasn’t patient when it came to the possibility of maybe spending more time with you.

AN: AHH i really hope you guys liked this! this is the first in the series i’m calling ��sweet creature’ and it’s basically your and harry’s love story!!

(COULDN’T FIND THE SOURCE OF THE GIF SO IF YOU KNOW WHOSE IT IS PLS SEND ME AN ASK!! FULL CREDIT GOES TO THEM ON THIS WONDERFUL CREATION)

[visionofhope04]

Hii I was lowkey wondering if you would do something maybe like a one shot of neglected where reader is older (18-20) and dipped out of the house and became a singer and one of her songs basically exposed them for how they treated reader and in like an interview she full on tells them how she doesn’t even talk to them and like only Jason

This is literally perfect. I love this idea! I was planning on making a singer batsis reader anyway so here you go! I'll be making this part 4 of the series instead of a one shot. There’s a bit of angst. Btw, thanks so much for your support everyone! I'm glad you enjoy this series! Feel free to request anything you'd like besides smut as well!

This is the longest thing I have ever written so there will be a part 5. I planned on this being the last part but it's just so much. It’s not proofread and neither are all of the other parts because I post at 1 am most of the time lol. Hope you like it!

f/n = friend name

Y/G/N = your group name

N/S = news station

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (Current) Part 5

---

You were sick of it. Sick of how even after confronting them about how you felt and almost dying because of it, they still neglected you. You couldn't wait to move out at the age of 18, even if it proved to be a struggle. You had taken mini jobs since you turned 15 and saved up since then. You just couldn't see them anymore as it would remind you of how they treated you that day at that hospital. None of them apologized either. They just pretended it never happened and continued to ignore you. The media had a field day with speculation of what had happened but eventually stopped because Bruce had claimed it was “just a bad case of the flu” which they believed.

Jason was always the only one that would talk to you. He was the only one that actually cared enough to make sure you were taking proper care of yourself and that you wouldn't have a repeat of what happened. He took you places, spent time with you and gave you advice. You even had a tradition where you'd always meet up at the manor's library every week at the same time that same day every week and just have a mini book club together. He always made time for you and never bailed on you.

So on your 18th birthday, he helped you move out. You managed to rent a small apartment in Star City with the money you had saved up. It wasn’t that close to the manor which was a good thing. The neighborhood wasn’t good but it wasn’t as bad as Gotham’s neighborhoods so you would be fine. You could handle yourself with your assassin training if needed. You also managed to get hired at a cafe which was about a five minutes walking distance from your apartment.

It had taken a while but eventually, you had packed all of your belongings into color coded containers and moved them into Jason’s car with his help. You didn’t say goodbye to anyone as you had no friends to say bye to and you knew that your so called “family” couldn’t care less about what you did with your life. ‘This is it, hopefully the last time I’ll ever be near this place.’ You thought. You didn’t plan on stepping foot in Gotham ever again after you left. It would bring back too many memories you prefer to keep buried away deep inside your mind.

The car ride to Star City was entertaining. You and Jason conversed the whole time, telling jokes and listening to his funny tales with the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually, a song you both loved came on and you both started yell-singing along to the lyrics. You wished those moments could be permanent. You were both so carefree and nothing else mattered besides having fun and enjoying yourselves.

You now stood in the doorway of your new apartment, admiring your new home. Jason and yourself had just finished unpacking all of your belongings. You really liked how it looked and thought you both did an amazing job at designing the place perfectly according to your style. Jason, unfortunately, had to leave in order to avoid raising suspicions. Once you both said your byes, he left you to your apartment.

Jason drove back home in silence. He hated to admit it but he would miss you dearly. You were always there for him and helped him with anything. You tried your best to always comfort him and make him feel better on his darkest days and it would always work. Somehow you seemed to always have the right words to say or knew exactly what to do to help him. Out of everyone he was closest to you. He assumed it was because he could relate to you the most. More so how you felt. He’d felt like the black sheep of the family before you came, and he was. When you came, you took that role from him. It pained him to see how much their insults would affect you, even if you were good at hiding it. He could just tell.

Jason made it back to the manor after a while and went straight to the library. He didn't want to deal with the others. After the whole hospital situation, he'd never really bother interacting with them. He hated how they treated you as if you didn’t exist and hated how much pain they had caused you and that they didn’t even care. He guessed that they'd probably be doing something for Damian's birthday and forgot that you were his twin. They probably couldn’t even remember that Damian had a twin.

He made it to the library and pulled out one of his favorite books. He’d read it so many times you’d often joke that he could probably recite the whole book by heart at this point. Sitting down in a chair, he started to read. However, he couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking about what it would’ve been like if they treated you how they did Damian. The both of you were Bruce’s real children. You both even looked like clones of him! At first, Jason thought you would’ve been the favorite twin due to your personality. Even though you were twins, your personalities were polar opposites. You even refused to kill! You were trained by the League so why didn’t you kill as Damian did?

Jason knew you would benefit them greatly if you joined. You had self control, didn’t kill, could act perfectly, lie perfectly, do well under pressure, and not to mention your skills. Being raised by the League may have been torture, but you managed to gain incredible skills out of it. You could take on at least ten guys who doubled you in size and beat them within five minutes. You even bested Damian in spars and he was supposedly dubbed the “better twin” by Talia, so why hadn’t they let you join their nightly crusades like they had let Damian when the both of you first arrived?

Damian passed by your room but noticed something was off. He decided to take a look. He twisted the doorknob and pushed. The room which was once occupied by you now looked extremely plain and bare, stripped of all of its accessories. The only things left were the bed itself, multiple dressers, and a vanity. It looked as if it had been vacant the whole time. It might as well have been. Damian couldn’t really remember what it had looked like since he’s never paid much mind to it but he could tell there was a drastic difference. He knew that you disliked just leaving your room plain unlike himself and wanted at least something to make it look less boring.

He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Had you finally been kicked out by Bruce? Did you get shipped off to a boarding school like he had been suggesting to your father for years? He decided to go ask. He exited the room and closed the door behind him, taking off for Bruce’s office. Walking down the hall, he suddenly remembered that he had seen you leave with Jason. This meant that you were not at a boarding school like he had originally thought. But then why was your room vacant?

Instead of going to see Bruce, he decided to go see Jason and bring up the matter with him instead. He changed directions and headed to the library where he knew he’d find Jason. It was no secret that Jason was a book worm so Damian had a fifty percent chance of finding him there.

He entered the library and was immediately greeted with the sight of Jason sitting comfortably on a chair, legs crossed with a book opened in his hands. Jason didn’t bother to look up from his book as he spoke.

“What do you want Demon Spawn?”

“I’ve come to obtain the whereabouts of my sister.”

“You mean my sister?”

“She’s not your sister!” Damian exclaimed.

“Well I act more like a brother than you do.”

“Where is Y/N? Her whole room is bare.”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Just tell me, you imbecile!” Damian said, growing increasingly frustrated by Jason’s blunt answers.

“She’s not here.”

“Then where is she?”

“Not here.”

“Just tell me already Todd, I have no time for your foolish games!”

“She moved out.” Jason said, giving in.

“What?! Where.” Damian demanded.

“Why would I tell you?”

“Because I demand to know!”

“Okay and?”

“Tell me!”

“No.”

“Why not!”

“Because you don’t even care.”

“And you do?”

“Yes, I actually do Damian! I’m there for her when she needs me the most. I’m there for her while she’s watching you live the perfect life that she’s just a background character in! While you and the others ignore that she even exists! I’m there for her when she breaks down and has panic attacks! And what were you all doing to try and help her? Nothing! Absolutely nothing!” Jason snapped.

“Y/N’s fine, I know my twin!” Damian screamed.

“Do you even know what her favorite color is?” Jason questioned in a harsh tone.

“...” Was Damian’s reply.

“Exactly! You don’t! You and the others have never cared about her, so why all of a sudden do you care now? You don’t know anything about her so don’t act like you do!” Jason then stood up and walked out of the room in a fit of rage.

Damian stood there, shocked. Had Jason just refused to answer his question? He was about to follow him but decided against it. Why was Damian going to chase Jason down just for her? She was just an annoyance, a mistake, imperfect. He had been wanting to get rid of her for so long, so why doesn’t he feel relieved? Why does he feel guilty? He decided to stop dwelling on it and get on with life. He figured it would happen eventually if it hadn’t happened then.

---

It had been a year since that day. The day you left your old life behind and started a new life, a better one. One where you weren’t constantly ignored. One where you actually had more than one person care about you. Instead of seeing yourself as a failure and disappointment, you now saw yourself as an amazing person (which you always were). You had been going to a community college in Star City. You made many friends there and started up a music career with three of them.

Their names were f/n, f/n and f/n. You all started off by taking random gigs anywhere you could. You performed covers of songs and would receive standing ovations all the time. Seeing as your group was well liked, you decided to write and produce your own songs. At the age of 19, Y/G/N released their first album. It went viral within a day and everyone was talking about it. After a week, several articles were posted, praising your work. News Stations talked about all the records Y/G/N managed to break. People started to stream it like crazy, and you couldn’t be happier with all the positive feedback you were receiving.

You had been a Wayne once, meaning you had experience in dealing with the media. Since you had already been used to it, you knew you’d all eventually be invited to interviews. So, when you had received an email stating how N/S wanted a one on one interview with you, you weren’t sure how to feel. You weren’t looking forward to interviews with your whole group, let alone one where you would be alone. You knew how unfiltered interviewers could be and didn’t feel comfortable with it.

However, you decided it would be best to go. So here you were, sitting in front of the interviewer in an uncomfortable chair preparing for the interview to start. You had somehow managed to keep a smile plastered on your face the entire time while you were a nervous wreck on the inside. You hoped none of the questions would be sexist as they usually were towards women. However, you had no more time to think about that. You heard clicking, signaling that you were about to go live. Once you heard the last click, you knew you were live and the interview had begun.

“Hello everyone, welcome back to N/S. My name is Jerald Tangleberry and I’m here today with songwriter, singer, and celebrity, Y/N Wayne! How are you?”

You waved to the camera and then answered, “Hello everyone! I’m doing good, how about you?”

“I’m doing great, thanks for asking! So by now I’d assume everyone knows that you’ve released an album with your group. How does it feel to gain more fame?”

“It doesn’t feel any different. Fame wasn’t our goal when we released the album. It was to express ourselves.”

“Mhm, well Ms. Wayne, what inspired you to write songs?”

“Well we know people may be in a tough spot in their life right now and want them to know they aren’t alone.”

“That’s so true. Some fans have been speculating that every member has three songs that specifically relate to them since there are twelve songs in total and three of the songs have the same group member as the introduction part of the song. Is this true?”

“Yes, it is true.”

“So all three of your songs relate to family issues of some sort. Is that hinting that you have family issues?”

“Yes, actually. My family isn’t the best. They ignored me all the time, even when they weren't busy. The only person who didn’t was Jason.”

“You’re saying it in the past tense.”

“I moved out about a year ago. When I was around 14, I suffered from anorexia. My family would always ignore me since they were either busy doing work or hanging out with each other. The only family member that acknowledged me was Jason. I assumed it was because there was something wrong with me. I started to hate myself so much to the point of starvation. One day, I passed out right before a gala and my oldest brother Dick found me passed out on the floor. They took me to the hospital and when I woke up, Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian started fussing about how I’d ruin their image if the media knew what actually happened. They started to yell at me and told me how I was a useless burden. I started to have a panic attack so I kicked them out. Jason stayed behind with me and comforted me. Ever since then I made a planed to save enough money so I could move out when I turned 18, which I did.”

“Oh, wow. So Jason was the only one who interacted with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks like the Wayne family isn’t as perfect as they seem.”

“No family is actually perfect.”

“Did your family try contacting you at all after they found out about Y/G/N?”

“Not yet. They’re probably too busy or don’t care.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright, I got over it. What’s the next question.”

“Oh-” He cleared his throat and continued the interview. (So basically I don’t wanna bore you all lol)

---

Jason had woken up late into the afternoon that day. Patrol that morning had exhausted him. There was a huge breakout at Arkham they had assisted with. They successfully locked up every escapee, so today, Jason just wanted to relax until it would be time for patrol again. Even though he was exhausted, he knew he couldn’t take a break. The others wouldn’t and it would be unfair to them if he did.

He headed over to his couch with his phone and a bowl of popcorn in hand, ready to watch random movies the entirety of the day. He set down his phone on the coffee tables and grabbed the TV remote. When he turned on the TV, he almost dropped the popcorn and remote. You were sitting on a chair, giving an award winning smile while you politely answered the man’s questions. He was baffled. He didn’t know why you were being interviewed, let alone on TV at all! You made it clear you didn’t want to have any relations with your family any longer and you couldn’t stand publicity, so what were you doing?

He placed the bowl down and snatched his phone off the table. Unlocking his phone, he quickly dialed your phone number. However, he realized that the interview was live and that he would be interrupting it if he called you then. Deciding to wait, he placed his phone back down, picked up the bowl, and then got comfortable.

---

Tag list: @fake-id-69 @pepelachanel @loxbbg @what-0-life @yoongi-holland @omnivorousfangirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @sexysamsungl @iceddonuts @buginetye @portrait-ninja @azazel-nyx @alculai

[ramzawrites]

can i request an angsty sbi fic where sibling reader lost two lives saving others (maybe tubbo at the festival?) and they see everything falling apart (techno and phil destroying everything, wilbur dead and tommy focused on the disks) and they pretend to be ok while their mental health gets worse and worse until they decide to end it, and people only realise they weren't okay after the death message pops up and their reactions to seeing it? if not thats completely fine, ik its pretty heavy

Broken

GN

Pairings: none

Characters included: Wilbur, Tommy, Philza, Tubbo, Technoblade

Warnings: depression, suicide (falling, non descriptive), angst

Series: a request!

Summary: Y/N just wanted their home back. They just wanted to live a peaceful life but instead all their hopes and dreams got ripped apart by the people they loved the most.

Words count: 3647

Authors Note: Honestly I could have shortened it quite a bit but here we are, it’s way longer than I wanted but I hope you guys enjoy this. I’m sorry if this went kind off of rails to what you might have envisioned. Also I hope that you guys know that you are loved and appreciated. I appreciate you for taking the time to read my stuff :] Here is m favorite video to cheer me up some times, hope it can cheer you up as well!

I’m also curious what your guys thoughts and opinion are on this or my writing in general! Can’t get better without feedback :]

Y/N loved their family.

They were all pretty chaotic but so was Y/N, following their siblings into trouble ignoring any possible consequences.

So when Wilbur proclaimed he would create an independent Nation inside the SMP that was owned by Dream himself, you bet that Y/N was standing right beside him.

When Wilbur would struggle with his tasks or was weighed down by doubts they would swoop right in and do their best to support him. Every time Wilbur would say “I don’t know what I would do without you sometimes.” While Y/N didn’t do it for praise but out of love for him it was still nice knowing that he appreciated them and that he took note of their work.

Tommy wasn’t really for heartfelt words but he too expressed in his own way how much he appreciated them being around. Most of his schemes wouldn’t have even happened without Y/N’s help after all. As a way to say thanks he would let them just take stuff fout his chets or when he heard they needed a specific resource he would wander out and get it for them. Of course saying something on the lines of “I was out there anyhow, so I brought some with me. It was on the way.” Y/N could read between the lines though. They grew up with him after all.

Y/N put so much energy into L’Manberg they couldn’t help but be in love with this little nation. They would do everything to protect their home.

When Y/N lost their first life it was together with their siblings protecting their nephew Fundy.

The Dream Team suddenly retreated after another battle against L’Manberg. While the group was celebrating what they thought was their first victory in ages, Eret appeared. She told the group of a small bunker with more resources.

Still celebrating Wilbur, Y/N, Tommy, Tubbo and Fundy made their way towards the bunker. The bunker that would later go down into history as “The Final Control Room.”

Inside they all looked at the labeled chests only to notice that they were empty. Eret then pressed a button which opened up secret walls with the Dream Team standing behind. She herself got into safety as Dream and his friends merciless attacked the L’Manberg faction.

As soon as Y/N understood what was happening they did their best to form a wall between the attackers and Fundy. Slowly pushing him out of the room while they made sure to block the exit, giving the Fox Hybrid enough time to run away.

When they woke up again it was inside their home. In L’Manberg. Sore from the respawning.

Once they did respawn though it didn’t take long for Fundy to barge into their room and throw himself against them, thanking them. Wilbur was close by, looking worse for wear as well but incredible thankful nonetheless.

After that and a few battles more Tommy challenged Dream to a duel in order to secure independence. He lost so instead he bartered his music discs for freedom.

After Tommy respawned a second time Y/N made sure to spent most of their time hovering around him. Making sure he was doing alright.

But with that L’Manberg was independent and it was Y/N’s time to shine. Sure, they worked hard on strengthening the infrastructure of the nation but now, maybe even because of that, they basically coordinated all the new builds.

Shops, homes and other things were being build with them overseeing it. Meanwhile Wilbur and Tommy took care of the political part only to come to the conclusion that they had to have a proper election.

At first it started innocently enough as well. New political parties were made that begun advertising themselves. Funny enough they would always come to Y/N asking them where they could hang up their posters. It was then that Y/N realized that the people saw them as some sort of authority, even asking them if they wanted to start their own campaign. They politely declined, saying they worked best as a support role.

Then Schlatt entered the stage and everything got thrown upside down.

In the end he managed to become the next president via a coalition and his first declaration as the president, or emperor as he called himself, was to exile Tommy and Wilbur.

As they ran for their life Y/N didn’t hesitate to follow. It hurt them so much to leave L’Manberg, their fruit and labor, behind. This only got worse once they realized that Tubbo was basically left alone back at the city under Schlatt’s rule.

Then Pogtopia got established.

Tommy, Wilbur and Y/N did their best to get a proper foothold again. Gathering resources and planning for ways to get their home back. And to accomplish this they soon called in the oldest sibling of the group, Technoblade.

Techno has been away for the longest time now. He moved out early to travel the world and apparently train himself. Somehow Tommy found a way to get a message to him, so he made his way towards Pogtopia.

He wasn’t big on words or emotions but as soon as he arrived he let Y/N hug him.

“This is a onetime deal, Y/N.”

With Techno they finally felt like they had a chance. Y/N could maybe return home someday. Back when they were children Techno always looked out for them so to have him back Y/N felt infinitely safer.

All the while Wilbur showed more and more signs that his mental health was rapidly declining. Y/N did their best trying to cheer him up but there was only so much they could do. Especially since they themself were struggling.

L’Manberg was their everything and now it was under the iron rule of Schlatt. They had to watch as Schlatt walked through the nation, ripping apart builds that they commissioned or even built themself. Every time he did something like that it felt like another stab wound directly into their heart.

Then the festival happened where Y/N lost their second life protecting Tubbo.

Schlatt wanted to apparently celebrate democracy and his amazing rule. Tommy and Wilbur weren’t allowed to join while Techno and Y/N received an invitation.

Y/N was very wary of that. They learned from Tubbo that Schlatt apparently was pretty interested in bringing them over to Manberg since a lot of the residents trusted them and saw them more as an authority than Schlatt himself, so bringing them over would probably also bring a lot of the residents around to his rule.

On the day of the festival Y/N made sure to stay close to Techno. Holding on to his arm and basically hiding behind him, not feeling up to talk with all the people in Manberg.

The people were happy to see them but Y/N was tired. They haven’t slept properly ever since the exile, too many thoughts that kept them awake.

Then the speeches started.

Honestly Y/N wasn’t really listening, their attention purely on a broken old building. It used to be the place where Y/N and the other residents would meet up and map out their plans for new builds. Discussing and even sometimes arguing on what materials should be used and where to get them. Now it was empty.

Their attention got pulled back towards what was actually happening once Tubbo begun speaking. It was a nice little speech Y/N had to admit.

Just as Tubbo was about to leave, Schlatt moved back in. Holding him in place and pushing him in something that Y/N had to describe as a cage with the help of Quackity.

“Techno, buddy. Come up here for a sec.”

Technoblade tensed up but still moved towards the stage. There Schlatt uttered the words that pulled the rug out from beneath Y/N once again.

“Kill him Techno. He is a traitor.”

“Don’t you dare!” Y/N yelled out, making their way towards the stage as well.

Y/N knew Techno couldn’t deal well with social pressure, especially when there were about ten people or more behind him that could attack him at any point.

Tubbo looked so scared as he pressed himself against the wall. There was no escape for him.

When Techno moved his crossbow up, aiming directly at Tubbo, Y/N let out another scream. Urging him to stop.

Explosions. Colorful explosions filled the place.

“Y/N!” it was Tubbo screaming their name out.

Just as Techno pressed the trigger Y/N managed to jump in front, the rockets hitting them instead of Tubbo.

Their older brother looked absolutely mortified “Y/N? Wha- What? Why? How?” staring at Y/N’s lifeless body that slowly dissolved. They were slowly respawning but seeing his siblings body was enough to send him in some sort of frenzy.

Filled with bloodlust he aimed his crossbow towards Schlatt and Quackity. Killing them with one press of the trigger only to turn around and aim his crossbow towards the people.

As this happened Tommy enderpearled over, screaming at Techno.

He helped Tubbo out of the cage who was still in a state of shock. He only saw Y/N for a second and the next they were laying on the ground in their own blood.

Y/N heard the details later after they respawned. Tommy had apparently been incredibly angry at Techno, even attacking him. Wilbur then offered that the two deal with their argument via a fistfight inside a pit.

Normally Y/N would have yelled at Wilbur for that. Would have told him that this was his dumbest idea yet but they were too shook from what had happened to them.

Technoblade always spelled safety to them but he killed them. Sure, he meant to kill Tubbo but that didn’t really make it any better. They gave him an out, they would have helped fighting off all these people so they could flee.

The next time they saw Techno they flinched every time he got too close to them and yet they still put on a smile “Never, do this again.”

Techno only nodded.

After this downward slope the momentum didn’t seem to stop for them. Wilbur dropped even more and more off. Falling victim to his paranoia. Y/N tried their best convincing him to not blow up Manberg, that they will fight to gain it back. At this point trying to gain back their L’Manberg was the only thing they could hold on to.

Though all that work was for nothing.

The war to take back L’Manberg went way differently than they all had imagined. Y/N fought with a viciousness most didn’t think they had it in them. This was the day for them to finally regain what they had wished for, for the longest time now.

Everything came to a halt once Dream surrendered. He showed them Schlatt who was sitting in the Carmavan. Drunk off his mind he yelled and screamed at people only to die of a heart attack which meant that the Pogtopia faction won.

The people begun cheering, they had their home back! They were free! Y/N was probably the loudest by far. It felt like a huge weight was lifted from their shoulders. All this hardship and they could finally return to working with the others and rebuild L’Manberg. Return it to its former glory.

Tubbo got appointed President and Y/N was happy with it. Tubbo had an eye for building and was a good person, with him they were sure they could do some amazing things.

Apparently Techno thought otherwise. Instead he pulled Soulsand out, holding onto the Wither skulls as a visible threat.

Y/N had somewhat forgiven Techno for what had happened. It was a stressful situation and they acknowledged it but seeing him there, threatening to kill all of them? That they knew they couldn’t forgive quite so easy. Especially since he made some sound points but it was their L’Manberg. The people didn’t like living under Schlatt’s rule, this wasn’t something that could be described simply as a coup. Technically he was right but only technically. There were so many things that came into play that could let you argue over that but Techno would have none of it. Yelling something about Tommy only wanting to be a hero.

When the first explosions rang Y/N thought it came from a Wither but Techno was still in the middle of putting the heads onto the structure.

When more explosions rang and the ground beneath their feet broke away, Y/N understood what had happened.

At some point Wilbur ran off and must have pressed the button. The button that set the TNT beneath the city ablaze, effectively destroying everything.

Y/N was too busy with finding hard ground again and then dealing with the Withers and Techno that they only noticed after the fighting ended, how broken the nation was now.

They had won. Why would Wilbur do this? He knew how much the nation meant to them and again, they had won, so there was no reason for blowing the place up!

And if that wasn’t enough to see how both their older brothers destroyed everything Y/N worked for, they also had to see how Philza, their father, stood next to the corpse of Wilbur. It felt like they lost everything.

They lost their trust in Technoblade.

They lost their hopes and dreams via Wilbur blowing up the freshly liberated L’Manberg.

They lost their trust in their own father who had slain his own son.

Y/N felt absolutely crushed. Family was so important to them and it was their own family that destroyed their hopes and dreams. They did everything for them and this is how they repaid them?

Once everything calmed down and Tubbo begun making plans on how to rebuild the nation, he immediately came to Y/N for help but they hesitated which worried him.

“Is everything okay? Usually you would have jumped on that offer, Y/N.”

Y/N put on a smile that didn’t seem to reach their eyes “Don’t worry Tubbo, of course I’ll help you. I’m just tired from what we have been through. I finally have time to take a breather and I think it all just crashed down on me.”

“Well if you ever need help you can talk to me.” It was an earnest offer that Y/N would never take advantage of.

Y/N mostly ignored Philza. He talked with them a few times and even explained what has happened but Y/N still made a wide berth around him. Seeing him just hammered back down the feeling of distrust and hurt. Their familial relationship took a hard hit from that point on.

With Ghostbur it was a weird situation as well. They enjoyed spending time with him but were also always incredibly sad around him. Ghostbur took notice of this and would always offer them to take some of his blue but Y/N declined every time.

“Don’t worry Ghostbur. Everything is still just fresh in my mind. I’ll be back to my old self in no time. You take care of yourself, you hear?”

“Of course Y/N! You have always looked out for me, thank you.”

L’Manberg slowly took on a proper form again but it wasn’t the L’Manberg Y/N knew. It felt to them like they were standing on top of a grave. A grave for their dreams and it was getting hard, real hard, to walk through it every day seeing places where they know specific buildings should be standing. Buildings they build on their own only to be destroyed by their brothers doing.

Then Tubbo exiled Tommy and Y/N felt conflicted. They felt obligated to stay in L’Manberg since they were the main person people came to for builds but that was their brother. Their only brother they still trusted and felt a need to protect.

Instead of following him into exile they stayed in the city. Visiting Tommy whenever they could, noticing pretty fast that he was struggling hard with his situation and for once they didn’t feel strong enough to properly support him. Y/N tried their best but once they noticed they couldn’t reach him completely they gave up a tiny bit.

It reminded them too much of Wilbur.

So while they visited him and helped them where they could, they spent more and more time alone in their home only coming out for work and other necessary things like food. Soon it was normal to see them with ever present dark circles beneath their eyes.

Before Philza disappeared to join Techno, he would stop by Y/N’s home all the time.

“Have you eaten, yet?”

“Yes, dad. I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”

“I just haven’t seen you much lately and I got worried.”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine. Hey, if you go out, please, can you tell Ghostbur to stop coming around to throw Blue inside my mailbox? He won’t listen to me but perhaps he will to you.” And they would always carry the same big smile on their face accompanied by empty eyes.

The only time their happiness reached their eyes again was when Tommy returned from his exile. They crashed into their younger sibling holding him close to them and muttering apologies. He pried them off, embarrassed by all of this.

This short bout of happiness was destroyed by Doomsday. Dream, Technoblade and Philza once again made sure to set L’Manberg ablaze.

The second time Y/N’s fruits and labor got completely annihilated by their family but still they had some hopes this time. They still had Tommy on their side they could just finally build a home somewhere else and live in peace but Tommy had other ideas. He had it in his mind to get his discs back and he would do anything for it.

So while Y/N tried to ground themself with new hopes and ideas, holding onto the only constant of what was important to them, that being Tommy, Tommy ignored them. He was too busy with his own things and the worst part was that Y/N couldn’t even fault him for it.

They understood how much these discs meant to him and that this was something that had to come to an end but with this they lost another, and possibly their last, anchor point.

Yet you could still see them running around with a smile, tending to every one and trying to help out the best they could.

Then suddenly they were gone. They just disappeared one day. The few people who took note of that took some time to look around but there was no sign as to where they left. Y/N didn’t take their armor with them nor any weapons or food.

< Y/N succumbed to despair and fell of a high place>

When every ones communicators rung out with this message the SMP fell quiet.

Tommy couldn’t believe what he was reading. This didn’t make any sense. Y/N was fine! They would talk with them and everything looked fine! This must have been a cruel joke from Dream somehow, right? This couldn’t be real. Why would Dream do this? This didn’t seem to make sense.

Exactly there was no sense in Dream doing this.

While Tommy was battling with his thoughts Tubbo came running over to him. Tears streamed down his face.

“What happened? Why did this happen? Where are they?”

Tommy was visibly shaking “I- I have no idea. I don’t know. They looked fine. I’m- I’m not sure. Tubbo-“

Tubbo just slammed into him, giving him a proper hug, trying his best to help Tommy through his rising panic. He lost another sibling and by Ender that hurt.

Meanwhile in the snowy Tundra both Philza and Techno were staring at their communicators as well.

Philza was pale. So pale it almost rivaled the snow around him.

Techno had his brows furrowed. For anyone who didn’t know him well enough he looked at best displeased with this situation but Philza could see the small details that told a different story. Him sucking his breath in as he read the message, hiding his quivering lip in his cloak. He was heartbroken.

Sure the two weren’t on good speaking terms but Y/N was still his younger sibling. He still loved them.

Philza felt similar. He acknowledged that he screwed up and honored their wish to be left alone by him but he never imagined this could lead to their death. His knees buckled and he sank to the ground. Two of his children died, one directly by his hand and the other due to his inaction.

His eyes glossed over, the world became a blur and yet he continued rereading this message over and over. Y/N just lost their last life.

Philza could hear Techno walk closer to him and sat down on the ground as well.

“Y/N is-“ Philza begun but he didn’t know what he wanted to say. State the obvious to his eldest son?

“I have more fault in this than you, dad. Don’t feel guilty.” His voice was uncharacteristically weak. Wavering as he spoke. He wanted to cheer Philza up but it was a weak attempt.

“What have we done.”

Ghostbur was at first confused when he read the message. It was like he couldn’t connect the dots but it slowly dawned on him what this meant.

“Oh my.” His usual happy demeanor was suddenly gone.

He touched his face and as he put his hands back down he saw how they were smeared with blue.

“Y/N is dead?”

His usual ghost behavior seemed to break a bit. It was like through the warped version of Wilbur that was called Ghostbur for a moment the true version of him came through again. And he was hurt. Devastated.

“I think I need to find the others.” He mumbled to himself, making his way towards his family. All the while he held onto the blue wool of Friend like a lifeline. Combing through it nervously. Blue continuing to spill from his eyes.

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)

Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader

genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol

Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!

wordcount: 2.2k

taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine

a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!

series masterlist

part one part two

The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.

Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.

It was the only face behind the killings.

But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.

“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”

“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”

You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.

You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.

“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”

You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.

“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”

“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.

A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”

Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.

You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.

“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”

Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.

You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.

It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.

For the first time in forever, you looked alive.

Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.

“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”

Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.

You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”

Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”

The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.

You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.

Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.

He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.

Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.

This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.

It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.

The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.

After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.

They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.

A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.

A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.

Billy.

Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”

A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”

With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”

The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately—like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.

“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.

“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.

“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn’t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.

“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”

The subject's face dropped.

“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”

“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”

The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.

“What is this? What fucking game?”

“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”

“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”

A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”

“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”

He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.

A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”

Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”

Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.

Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.

He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.

That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?

[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]

[rikalovesrice]

My Thoughts on Trollhunters : Rise of the Titans

WARNING : ALL THE SPOILERS IN THIS REVIEW

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Mmmmm. Okay. So I just finished the movie. I’m fatigued as always so this’ll be a bit of a mess lol. Gotta spew the thoughts while they’re still fresh, y’all know how it is.

Right out the gate, I definitely want to talk about the things I loved.

The animation was, of course, phenomenal and gorgeous!

Voice acting was incredible as always

MUSIC SLAPPED

Douxie. I just loved seeing Douxie again and honestly kept my eyes trained on him for most the of movie lol

OK DOUXIE AND NARI SWITCHING?? BODIES??? Definitely didn’t see that coming and I legit started screaming lol

Nari in Douxie’s body is the most precious, chaotic, and wholesome thing like holy cow that was so adorable LOOKIT DOUXIE CROUCHING AND CRAWLING AROUND ON ALL FOURS WITH THOSE NOODLE LIMBS OF HIS I CAN’T --

We called Nari’s mind control and Douxie trying to reason with her!

In the very few scenes they were together, Douxie’s love and affection for Nari really came through. You could really feel how much he cared about her. ALSO THAT TENDER HUG AND NARI’S LITTLE HAPPY SQUEAK MY HEART NO--

Loved Barbara. Always love Barbara.

Walter and Barbara getting engaged

Nomura back in action

Claire being the powerful sorceress she’s become

Loved seeing Aja, Krel, and Varvatos all together again.

NARI VS SKRAEL WAS ALL SORTS OF EPIC AND CRUSHING EMOTIONS.

The way Douxie yelled Nari’s name and ran to her after she died and the remnants of her magic falling all around him, like she was saying goodbye, just *UGLY CRYING*

It was so cool to see Charlie out of his den and flying about like the mighty dragon he is

Loved the Guardians of Arcadia pulling Excaliber out together.

All the gang all going after Bellroc together

YES JIM MY BOOOOOOY

BLINKY DIDN’T DIE

Aarrgh I love you so much

Stuart, what a bro!

We saw a hint of mercy in Bellroc towards the end.

Toby’s death... That was a huge curveball. Jim might as well have cut my heart out with Excaliber as he sobbed over his best friend.

Uh.....um....and.....Er...what else........ .___.

..........Alright so.......It’s about to get a bit brutal from here on out as I talk about the things I didn’t like at all. And the really sad thing is, at least to me, the cons far outweigh the pros in this movie. Because I’m actually having difficulty picking out things I enjoyed, they were so few and far between...which really sucks.

So here we go.

Gosh, where to begin... I guess I’ll go ahead and say this : I’m really disappointed. 

Like as I’m here typing this, I’m just thinking, “...That was it? That was the movie?? The big finale???”

So much of this movie just felt....unnecessary. I hate to say almost like filler. The entire intro re-caping the series really wasn’t needed. And then Toby went and restated it all again when he was being interrogated. The pacing, oh my gosh...Guys, the pacing in this movie was not good. The action started and it never seemed to stop. There wasn’t a single moment of rest, of levity, of our characters just being themselves, getting to know each other, being friends outside of the battle. No Reckless Club Segment. No fun, just... I mean Claire and Aja didn’t speak to each other at all. Douxie and Toby hardly interacted. Steve was turned into a gross male pregnancy joke. Jim and Krel barely spoke. Douxie and Aja had nothing to say to each other. Even Aja and Krel didn’t have any moments together. The list goes on. The whole movie was just go, go, go. And it’s so frustrating because there was time for it but it was poorly executed.

Like was the whole break-in to the Chinese Trollmarket really necessary?? Guys, I really found myself not caring. I didn’t care to see this random side quest involving an insignificant new troll character and a Trollmarket that had little to no bearing on the plot. Did I love seeing Charlie, Archie, Blinky, and Claire? Of course! But these scenes were so pointless. So needless. They could’ve written other ways for all our heroes to go after the chronosphere (Maybe we could’ve had Zoe for crying out loud). But instead this vital artifact was the hands of a character we don’t know and don’t care about in a place that turned out to have basically nothing to do with anything.

Deaths. The deaths in this movie. Because of the pacing in this movie, there wasn’t nearly enough time for the emotional impacts to sink in. Nomura? Gone and the only ones mourning her are Aaarrgh and Douxie, who barely knew her. Walter’s death was handled better since we got to see Jim and Barbara actually having a moment to mourn him. The weight of Nari’s death was singlehandedly carried by Douxie, but even that was over before it started. The immense gravity of Toby’s death, which really got to me, was also short-lived to make way for an ending that...I don’t know. 

ALSO DOUXIE JUST??? BEING OKAY WITH HIS FAMILIAR, THE ONE WHO RAISED HIM AND WENT THROUGH SO MUCH WITH HIM FOR CENTURIES, LEAVING HIM FOREVER TO BE TRAPPED IN THAT DUMB TROLLMARKET WITH CHARLIE LIKE???

“I hope he’s happy.”

WHAT. THE. EVERLASTING. FRICK. 

Douxie’s reaction objectively doesn’t make a shred of sense. Geez, it’s almost like Douxie was expecting Archie to up and leave him someday to be with Charlegmane. Just...what???

What also frustrates me so much is how this movie undid so much characterization and development that happened in Wizards. Or more like all that development didn’t even matter.

What was the point of Steve’s arc in Wizards if he was just going to be reduced to...this?

I was so excited to see Douxie really being a Master Wizard. To see him lead the Guardians of Arcadia alongside Jim. To see him in action as Successor to Merlin and Protector of this Realm.

But no.

Douxie, who had such an incredible arc in Wizards and a character who’s come to mean so much to me in my life, was nerfed and sidelined.

And then time restarts and I can’t help but wonder why any of this mattered at all. What the heck was the freaking point of the suffering, the loss, the pain, the growth, enduring and overcoming so much, the friendships and family spanning across three shows... All gone. Starting all over. Undoing everything, except what Jim went through. As much as I love Jim, I didn’t think he’d be the only character I’d be getting closure for at the grand finale of this entire franchise. But that’s what happened and I really hate it.

Just...all in all, this movie wasn’t satisfying. Not to me. It had its good moments. But not nearly enough. The comedy was misplaced and fell flat. The climax was sorely anticlimactic and didn’t hold a candle to Eternal Knight. The writing, the direction, characterization...For some reason it was all lost and confused and none of it felt right and so much didn’t make sense.

I’m not at all upset with the writers, though, because they still pulled through and did what they could. When the movie did something right, it was beautiful. The things I loved about it I truly adored. No, I’m not upset in the least bit with any of the creative team.

I’m upset with Netflix. I’m upset that Wizards was robbed of the seasons it should’ve had. I’m upset with big cooperations stifling creators. I’m upset that this’ll be it. This is the ending we got and nothing can be done about it.

Aaron did say there’s every possibility for the franchise to continue in some capacity, and I’m hoping for that someday. Because so much, too much, has been left unanswered. So much left to be explored that couldn’t. But until then....I guess this is it. This is what we get.

Now, I want to remind everyone that this is my own personal experience with the movie. These are all my opinions. If you enjoyed every second the movie, that’s wonderful! And who knows how my thoughts will change upon another viewing. But in the meantime, Rise of the Titans really missed the mark for me. I wanted found family badassery and fluff. But nope. Just fighting and heaviness and no payoff. It’s such a letdown...a real shame. 

But yeah...Thanks to any and everyone who read to the end of this haha

I still love Tales of Arcadia. It’s a series that has blessed and inspired me so much as an artist, writer, and as a person in general. I do want to keep making ToA content for a while. Cause this movie isn’t the end. Not my ending, at least.

I’ll continue to hope for more Tales of Arcadia in the future (a Douxie spin-off series please Lord pleaaase). We shall see. Until then, fics and fanart fixing this mess galore haha

Until next time everyone! God bless!

[ctrlsznwrites]

SAY SOMETHING

chapter three  — game night!

about  —  after spending the day with sam, a few weeks have gone by and the pair still flirt with each other from time to time. but their friends plan another gathering where yn meets the guy sharon wants to set her up with.

pairing  —  sam wilson x black!reader

w.c  — 1.98k

author’s note — hello, i know i haven’t written in a while, so i hope y’all enjoy this one! i tried to get a feel about how the two of them felt about each other. and also how their friends can see as clear as day that they like one another.

previous

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

A few days had passed since the movie night Sam and YN had and they had been spending more time with each other more than ever. But they still hadn’t told the other how they felt, even with all the flirting and with Sam having a feeling that YN felt the same ways. Which was really Ororo and Bucky telling him to get his head out of his behind and talk to her already because they know for a fact she feels the same way. But it didn’t help that Sharon was still trying to set YN up on a blind date.

But besides all of that they two were inseparable, like right now the two of them were cooking dinner together, while listening to music. Sam was currently cutting up a few ingredients while YN basically screamed the lyrics to ‘When Doves Cry’ By Prince while dancing against Sam.

He shook his head chuckling at her antics, loving how carefree she was around him. It was one of his favorite things to see her in her element just being herself, having fun knowing he would do the same. He stopped cutting up the garlic for their pasta dish watching her continue to move around the kitchen getting things together while signing into a wooden spoon. Being the quick thinker that Sam is he decides to take out his phone recording her antics, smiling at how adorable she was being.

It went on as the Candy’ by Cameo came on getting into her grove she did a spin, and when she stopped she saw him recording her. Her face feel as he feel into laughter stopping the recording deciding it was best to run. She chased after him offended that he would do such a thing.

“Sam, get back here!” She screamed turning a corner a little bit too sharp almost falling over.

“Gotta be quicker than that babe!” He teased rounding the couch.

“Fuck you Wilson.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time baby!” Stopping in her tracks YN pretending to clutch her pearls.

“Boy, like you could handle me. Anyway, are you going over to Bucky and Steve’s for game night tomorrow or not?”

“Yeah, I thought that we could ride together after work? I’d drop you off and pick you up, is that cool?”

YN nodded agreeing making her way into the kitchen to finish cooking. “And I swear Sam f I see that video anywhere but in your phone. I promise you; you’ll have hell to pay.” YN turned around to glare at him.

In return he smirked pulling her into a side hug. “Once, again baby girl don’t threaten me with a good time. You keep this up and you’re gonna have hell to pay.”

YN could feel the heat creep up her neck and bloom into her chest as she thought about the double meaning Sam was talking about. And honestly she wouldn’t mind finding out what he was talking about.

YN sighed finally happy to be done with work for the day, ready to let loose and chill out with her friends. She made her out of her job taking off her work lanyard looking around for Sam’s car, she smiled seeing him leaning on his car waiting for her. As she made her way over to him her coworker yelled for her to have a good weekend with her man. And before YN could correct her Sam thanked her coworker waving at her while YN continued her way to her car.

“You know everywhere we go; people think we date, and you never correct them.”

“Okay, and why would I. We look good together its that simple, now get in I don’t wanna hear Ro’s mouth about being late.” Sam stated opening the car door for her, she smiled at him as a way to say thank you.

The ride to Bucky and Steve’s condo went by pretty quickly with the two of them talking about how their days went. What they’re plans were for the weekend, and who would most likely get drunk the quickest out of their group of friends. But of course, when they arrive making their way into the condo, the shit talking starts almost immediately.

“Well, if it isn’t our favorite almost couple.” Bucky yelled making his way over to the two giving them hug, YN gave him a tight smile hugging him back before making her way over to Ororo.

The two greeted each other with hugs and start making the drinks for the night’s festivities. “So, I haven’t seen you since last Friday, which is unusual since we almost always have lunch on Wednesdays.”

YN winced knowing she was gonna have to deal with the teasing that would come with telling her why she had missed their weekly lunch. “Well, Sam had swung by my job and brought me lunch, so we ate in my office and just chilled. Sorry, I forgot to tell you.”

A smirk appeared across Ororo’s face, she turned towards YN waiting for her to give more information on how everything had gone. “I mean I’m not mad that you ditched me for you man, I’m just slightly pissed off that your ass still hasn’t told him. It’s obvious he likes your ass, you’re just to fucking stubborn or oblivious to notice it babe.”

YN smacked her lips, rolling her eyes at her friends’ statement. “Sure, he does but that’s beside the point.”

Ororo put her hand up stopping her friend from continuing. “Look, I don’t know why you won’t tell him, but honestly why do you think he wouldn’t like you. I mean you’re literally his type, down to the t. If you don’t believe me, go on the date with the guy Sharon’s trying to hook you up with and just pay attention to how Sam acts. It’ll say everything neither of you are, also he flirts with you like almost every time he opens his mouth. That man is whipped.” Ororo finished giving YN a kiss on the cheek taking the drinks out to the living room where everybody but Sharon was.

YN stood in the kitchen for a moment thinking over everything that was just said to her. She notices Sam had been flirting with her more, but then again she always found an excuse to write it off as him playing but maybe he actually could have feelings for her. And to be honest she was anxious of the idea that he could return feelings for her.

While YN was in the kitchen mulling over her feelings and Sam’s potential feelings Ororo was seated net to Bucky having a conversation concerning their two oblivious friends.

“So, do you think they’ve said anything to one another yet?” He questioned taking a sip of his drink. This question got Bucky a side-eye before Ro took a deep breathe wonder an ‘I fucking wish’ before explaining to him what the dilemma was.

“Not at all, they’re both too busy pondering over what if, to actually open their eyes to see how they act towards each other.”

“For them to be so smart and emotionally intelligent within themselves, they sure as fuck lack it when it comes to other.” Ororo nearly chocked on her drink not really expecting that comeback from bucky. The two looked at each other for a beat before falling into laughter.

Soon, enough YN and Sam walked into the living area together, with Sam arm slung over her shoulder. Bucky and Ro shared a look of annoyance yet interest over how these two just don’t see that their basically a couple already. Deciding to change the conversation the five of them started to talk about a few things that had happened within the week on not seeing each other.

Soon enough Ro was going off about how annoying her coworkers were and how whenever they got into something dumb they wanted her to help them get tout of it. While she was going off about the people at her job, Bucky noticed Sharon and a guy he had never seen before coming into the living room. He got up giving her a hug and telling her what drinks they had in the kitchen to make herself at home.

“Thanks, and I hope its okay that I bought a friend with me this is Travis. And Travis this is Bucky, YN should he somewhere around here I’ll introduce you guys later.” Sharon explained before making her way into the kitchen to get a drink.

Before he can even process who Sharon brought with her Ororo was by his side, grabbing his arm pulling him away from the group a bit.

“That is the guy, Sharon wants to hook YN up with. I knew she said she wanted them to met but bringing him to a friend outing with Sam here. I didn’t think she was that damn bold.”

Bucky’s face turned in disbelief at the last bit of Ororo’s statement, Sharon for sure is that bold. And will always be that bold if she thinks something that might work she’s gonna see to it that it happens. And that’s what worried the two friends.

“You know shit could really go left tonight right? Like what if he tries to get with her tonight or even asks her on a date. Can you imagine how Sam would feel? Or even how YN would accept just because she thinks Sam is just flirting with her playfully.”

“There is nothing playful about he way Sam flirts or looks at her.” Bucky stated, thinking about the different way things could go tonight.

Honestly this whole situation was stressing him out as if it was his own relationship. As the two of them talked for a bit more, Bucky noticed Sharon making her way over to Yn with Travis introducing them. Bucky tapped Ro nodding towards the scene unfolding taking a sip of his beer.

“Yeah, Sam’s gonna have a heart attack.” Bucky snorted agreeing before going back into the living room.

“Alright! Let get game night started, what to play first?” Bucky yelled waiting for this night to be over with.

As the night continued the group had fun playing Cards Against Humanity, Uno, and a few other games. But during the festivities Sam kept a up a good front, to the naked eye but to Bucky, Steve and Ororo they could tell he was fuming and YN was also pissed that Sharon had put her in this situation. One for not telling her that she was bring the guy she wanted to set her up with, and two for doing it when Sam is a round knowing how she feels about him.

She honestly couldn’t wait to go home and relax for the weekend. She loves her friends, but they weren’t any fucking help either. For example, Travis had been sitting next to her for the whole night, just being friendly and chatting her up and when he asked her on a date. Steve decided to give him a few ideas of where she would like to go just to get a better idea of the type of person YN is. Never in her life has she wanted to smack the beard off of his face so much.

Which lead to YN giving him her number telling Travis that she would think about it and that her schedule is pretty busy at the moment. While talking to him she noticed Sam staring at them. Holding his stare for a moment, YN gave him a smile before turning back to talk to Travis.

This whole night was going in ways either of them expected, but all Sam knew is he had to act on his feelings and fast. Which if he would’ve listened to Bucky and Steve none of this would be happening.

next.....

[charming-charlie]

Washed Away pt. 4

Title // Washed Away pt. 4

Pairing // Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings // Baby swears but you know what, this is a cute chapter.

Summary // Who knew hanging out with Buck and Christopher for a day would lead to a life or death situation?

Word Count // 1.6k

Prompt // Hi! Can i request a fic where you were with Buck & Christopher when the tsunami hit? They could be dating or crushing on each other. If nothing comes to mind, then it’s completely fine to ignore this request! Have a nice day!’

Author’s Note // This is Part 4 of the Washed Away series. || Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Tagged List //  @aprildecker-blog​​ @coffeewithoutcaffeine​​ @daddysfavoritesexkitten​​ @chenfordlove​​ @comeasyoudar​​ @carnationworld​​ // If you want to be added or removed from the tagged list, please drop a note.

The pier. A carnival. Maybe even a first date. A tsunami. You don’t even remember what happened after that. Your adrenaline was pumping hard and fast as you raced to console Buck, who was screaming Christopher’s name over and over again. You were afraid he would rip his vocal cords if he kept that up.

The water had receded enough for you and Buck to climb off the firetruck. What was left was a flooded road that was up to your waist, but it was much more manageable compared to before.

Together, the two of you flagged down whoever you could and asked people if they had seen Christopher. Buck described the little boy, and you held onto the last shred of hope that you could, but no one saw him. Or maybe no one wanted to see him.

Given the circumstances and what happened, you were fearing the worse.

Your arm looped around Buck’s and he didn’t pull away. If anything, he needed it. He seemed so exhausted, so defeated. It was such a contrast from the happy-go-lucky guy hours earlier. This seemed like an entirely different Buck, and you shouldn’t be thinking it, but you were grateful to see more sides to him. It showed you what kind of person he really was, and if anything, Buck was truly a hero. You believed that now more than ever. He just needed to be reminded occasionally.

The two of you walked down the flooded street, looking for any sign of anything. People seemed to be finding their way, gathering their bearings, and just trying to survive. There didn’t appear to be any luck, until…

“Hey, there’s a kid under here!”

Someone shouted from across the watery road. Buck spun around so fast; you were slightly afraid he would get whiplash. He grabbed your hand, pulling you to the wreckage.

The two of you, along with a few other people, removed a heavy metal liquor sign, the ones that hang on the sides of buildings with the arrow pointing to the entrance, off a person who was trapped in the middle of the debris.

Buck was holding his breath. For a moment, there was a gleam of hope, a flash of relief.

And then it was gone.

It wasn’t Christopher at all. The kid was a girl, a teen maybe, and she was sobbing for help. A woman grabbed her arm and supported her, and the two sauntered off wherever.

Buck stopped them quickly. “Hey hey excuse me, I’m looking for an eight-year-old boy.”

“Yeah, yeah I think I saw him. He was headed over to that cupcakery place up the way. They are handing out water,” a surfer-looking dude in a wetsuit chimed in, and once again, the spark of hope exploded in Buck’s eyes.

Your shred of hope was dwindling to a thread, mere fibers, after the ordeal you and Buck had. You were trying to keep hope like Buck was, but it was hard. Every single piece of help was leading to a dead end and you did not like the idea of sticking around if the worse news actually became a reality.

Does that make you a bad person? If you didn’t hear it, it wouldn’t be true, right? Perhaps you could hold onto that mantra for a little bit. Maybe some of Buck’s hope will wash over to you. You sure could use some right now.

“Thank you,” Buck said, and he grabbed your hand. The two of you sprinted in the direction where someone thought they saw Christopher, but your sprints quickly slowed to a walk since treading in water wasn’t exactly a cakewalk.

You were silent. You must’ve been for some time because eventually Buck spoke up.

“I’m sorry,” Buck told you. It was in a whisper and you strained your neck trying to hear him over the gushing liquid around you.

“For what?” you asked. There was nothing he could possibly be sorry for. None of this was his fault. Literally, this is just some freak accident that no one could have predicted.

“This wasn’t how I wanted our first date to go,” Buck was avoiding your eyes, like he was still looking for Christopher in the flood. In all fairness, you weren’t looking at him either.

Maybe you didn’t respond quick enough, or maybe the sudden silence wasn’t what Buck wanted to hear, because the ex-firefighter continued to speak, a little louder this time, and you heard him perfectly.

“Eddie needed someone to watch Christopher and I’m practically Uncle Buck, so I accepted, but I really did kind of wish it was just me and you. Don’t get me wrong, I love Christopher, and I love hanging out with him but I kind of wanted to hang out with you. Just you. Trust me, if it were just me and you, it’d be a memorable first date,” Buck said as his head hung low.

He wiped the sweat off his brow with his free hand, although the hand that was holding yours loosened its grip against your fingers, like he expected you to suddenly pull away from him.

You didn’t and you squeezed your hand to reassure him. “I don’t know,” you said with a little smile, “as far as first dates go, I feel like this is pretty memorable.”

That seemed to put a spring in his step, and he smiled too. He glanced over at you, nudging you with his impressively muscular arm. “I hope you’re not just saying that to make me feel better.”

You teetered slightly to the side to avoid a washed-up car, allowing your body to press next to his for a second. Honestly, it felt good. Maybe you just craved a human touch and the handholding wasn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe your feelings ran deeper for Evan Buckley than you thought. Whatever the case, you knew it wasn’t the moment you wanted, so you weren’t disappointed by the sudden confliction of feelings.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. Your hair was practically dry at this point, although rough and tangled from the seawater. “I was hoping you’d ask me out. I wasn’t expecting Christopher to join us, but I like the kid.”

It was true. With Christopher’s medical problems, you got to know him very well, since you were the nurse at his school. Eddie made sure to contact you once a week, at least, just to check on his son and make sure everything was okay. You got to know the Diaz family, and that included Uncle Buck. Your life changed for the absolute better the moment Christopher walked into it. It was that boy and the family he had that provided you with something spectacular. You were holding the hand of that spectacular thing right now as the two of you walked down a flooded street.

“You like me more though, right?” Buck had a bit of a snarky smile now. That made you feel a lot better. Perhaps this conversation is distracting him from everything going on. You both could use the distraction. Plus, both of you haven’t talked to each other properly all day. Christopher was always right there.

“It’s kind of hard to not like someone that saves your life,” you shrugged it off, toying with him a little. Was it sort of wrong to tease him when the two of you were looking for Christopher? Then again, maybe that was what you both needed right now. Again, distractions can be necessary.

“Oh, that’s right. So basically, that sort of means you’re in my debt now, right?” Buck asked as he looked over at you. There was that damn gleam in his eyes. He was teasing you back and hell, he was enjoying it too.

“Let’s not get carried away with the specifics,” you answered, only to hear Buck emit a small laugh. It was good to hear him laugh again. It was good to see him smile. The cupcakery was miles down the road, the two of you had a while, and the distracted conversation was most welcomed.

“I like the specifics,” the ex-firefighter retorted. You could feel his thumb grazing the back of your hand.

“Okay fine, I’m in your debt. How in the world could I possibly pay you for saving my precious life?” you threw out your best acting skills, which were not that great to begin with, and the laugh lines around Buck’s eyes became more prominent. Your knight in shining armor was actually enjoying this.

“See, that’s all I want, a little bit of gratitude.”

“Dear Mr. Buckley, I am so incredibly grateful that you saved my ass during a freak disaster,” you began to really get into this fake acting thing, but Buck saw right through you.

He splashed you and you laughed, clinging onto him just a little bit tighter.

It was needed. After the ordeal that you two had, this was definitely needed. You didn’t know what lied ahead at the cupcake bakery a few miles down the road, and you were mentally exhausted trying to play every scenario out in your head.

During your trek, there was no one else that needed saving. Buck didn’t run into the face of danger. Instead, he was by your side, holding your hand, as you both waded slowly through the water. Occasionally you stepped on things that you did not want to know what they were, but he was there and calmed you down through it.

The sun was setting. The two of you kept walking. Maybe, just maybe, you two can save Christopher.

And maybe each other.

[stellar-imagines]

HEADCANONS REQUEST: ❝S/O with teleporting quirk.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, Aizawa Shouta ]

「Headcanons of Midoriya, Bakugou, and Aizawa with S/O who has a teleporting quirk.」

MIDORIYA IZUKU

♤ Nerd boy regrets not having his book with him during training because he was so amazed with your abilities. Midoriya was watching you intensely. Even as you trained, you could feel that you were being watched very closely. It made you kind of nervous. He looked like he has to absorb as much as he could, and learn from you. How do you move your body? How do you take breaths? He seemed determined to learn all of that from watching you. Eventually, you tell him that he could just ask you directly instead of sneaking around and stalking you.

♤ Midoriya here is probably how you manage to get to know all your weaknesses. He is one curious boy and has a lot of questions that you never actually thought about. He asked how if there was a limit to how much you could carry. And he tested a few theories. First, he assumed it was amount then he assumed it was based on weight, turns out it was the latter. He makes a lot of assumptions and has you testing out a few things out of curiosity. You have brought him to the top of a building to show off your training results, teleporting short distances and slowly making your way down. Let's say, he was scared stiff.

♤ He's always looking into different methods on how he could improve his quirk. With you, he could train his reflexes. You would use your quirk to teleport a few objects at him and he would use try to catch them. Sometimes it was hand to hand combat with no quirks involved. But he loves watching your use your quirk, it reminds him of how much of an amazing person you are. Of course, its not only because of your quirk that he thought you were amazing. You were a strong individual, capable of defending yourself and protecting others.

♤ Please don’t surprise him too much because he has a weak heart. He screams when you spook him and it attracts a lot of attention, you find it funny at times but sometimes you feel bad especially when you surprise him while he’s holding a few things in hand. He claims that he gets used to it but he still lets out those adorable squeaks when you show up in his room all of a sudden. Sometimes you give him a heads up, telling him that you’re coming over in a second but he can't help but jump a bit at your sudden appearance.

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

☆ Being able to teleport yourself and anything in possession a certain distance in the blink of an eye was a very strong quirk. That was what Bakugou thought. Not only were you able to teleport yourself and objects that you touch but you can change their resulting orientation. In addition to that, you could teleport objects inside designated targets. The main reason you passed the entrance exam was by flipping over robots and teleporting rubble into the robot which resulted in explosions and malfunctioning.

☆ This guy underestimates you at first, assuming that you would be using your quirk to avoid combat as much as possible but was taken by surprise during your first fight against each other. You had teleported right behind him, grabbing his arms and quickly subduing him. Let's say, you broke the world record to 'How fast you can take Bakugou Katsuki down'. He demands a rematch and you two build an interesting dynamic and relationship from there. It started with training sessions which slowly developed into hangouts.

☆ Bakugou has a hard time dealing with you. You had great control of your quirk and you barely have any weaknesses. Of course, there's a limit to how fast you can teleport. There's a one-second lag when consecutively using her power in fights leaving you vulnerable in that one-second interval before teleporting again. Even so, it's hard to get the timing right to land a hit. But he's a great observer and instead of thinking about your quirk's weaknesses, he took advantage of your habits to win against you.

☆ This guy absolutely hates it when you use your quirk to surprise him. It's very effective and never fails to catch him by surprise since you basically disappear and reappear. You often use this to pull pranks and when you're really lazy. He has to admit that it's a very convenient quirk to have. He remembered that one time you both went grocery shopping and just had too much to carry home. When the dorms were within your range, you instantly used your quirk to teleport back inside.

AIZAWA SHOUTA

♡ Never really cares that much about what kind of quirk you would have. It's because there's more than quirks to a person anyway. But he can't deny that he thinks that your quirk was a really cool one. Being able to move from one place to another with ease? He would want to have a quirk like that because it will make his life so much easier. Aizawa is a lazy person and he would use your quirk for pointless tasks that can be done without your quirk.

♡ If you're a hero, he would be kind of worried to be honest. Despite having such a powerful quirk, you weren't that strong and you're taken by surprise, you would be very vulnerable. But with you on the heroes' side, the rescue has never been much easier. Even though you were not the power type, all you had to do is touch the person to be able to activate your quirk. Of course, you had your limits and were only able to carry around 200kg of things or people using your quirk. Even so, it was a very convenient quirk that has saved his ass countless of times.

♡ He doesn't really react that much when he's surprised. Unlike most people who would jump, yelp or maybe scream in surprise, Aizawa would probably just flinch. You had surprised him a couple of times, dropping by his apartment unannounced. He never really minded and he eventually got used to your suddenly coming by without giving him a heads up. The only time you shouldn't be surprising him is when he's sleeping because this man values his sleep okay? Have you seen him? He looks like he hasn't slept in a month so let the man sleep as much as he can. Aizawa is going to be in a bad mood for an entire day if you surprise him while he's sleeping which abruptly wakes him up from his precious sleep.

♡  You bet that he's gonna make you use your quirk for something really ridiculous. You remembered that you were standing in the kitchen, making his coffee. Aizawa was busy grading papers and most of it was scattered around the couch and on the floor. He asked if you could bring it to him which resulted in you using your quirk to do it for you. Over time, he would request the most ridiculous things, like removing his clothes because he's just too damn lazy to even lift his arms. Most of the time, he's just messing around with you but its hard to tell when he's saying it all with a straight face.

Total: 1226 words Published: 20.09.2020

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ Ah~Kuroko, our beloved comedic relief in the Railgun series. She really has a very interesting ability that I would want. We hope you liked it! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting it! Teleporting is definitely a quirk/ability I would want to have in real life. Hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki

Requests are open! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

[angxlyxn]

pet - dabi x f. reader

summary: Dabi is intent on showing everyone just who you belong to.

warnings: NONCON, light smut, obsessive behavior, burning/branding, captivity, talk about body weight/appearance, emotional and physical abuse, suicidal/dark thoughts

a/n: hello lovelies!�� this is actually my first requested piece on this account, and was sent in by the lovely @hotwings0203 <33.  i’m sorry that it’s not some of my best work, because i wasn’t entirely sure how to approach writing for someone like Dabi, but i tried my best!  thank you so much for requesting this love, it was so fun to write and i hope you enjoy it anyways!

wc: ~2.8k

“Hey, dollface.”

You jolted up at the sound of the harsh voice, the gruffness of it scratching against your ears and causing you to cringe a bit.  

“Look at me, won’t you mousey?”  He called again.  You hesitantly shifted in your spot, turning to face Dabi with a blank expression on your face.  You made an effort to show as little emotion as possible, flattening out your features and trying not to give him an opportunity to take advantage of your natural timidity.  

“Come ‘ere,” he said simply, a bit of bile catching in your throat as he jerked his fingers towards himself, the motion reminiscent of an owner calling an unruly pet to his side.  You carefully walked up to him, each step sending a series of prickles through your toes, the soft skin on your feet feeling as though it was being punctured by a bunch of needles.  

He held a palm up just as you reached him, signaling you to stop and wait for his next command.  Like a pet.  He smirked a bit at your obedience, dropping his hand lazily onto his lap and leaning back into his chair, legs widening and posture relaxing as his cerulean eyes drank in your stilled body.  

“Hm..You’re getting too thin, angelface.”  His calloused hand shot out, grazing your stomach and pressing into your hip bone.  “You’re all skin and bone,” he said with a little too much glee.  

You couldn’t deny his remarks.  You had been here for so, so long, and taking care of you wasn’t exactly Dabi’s first priority.  The sickly way that your shoulder bones were pushing through your skin and the torn babydoll covering your body attested to that.  The nightgown that so sparsely covered you wasn’t even yours, in fact, but one that Dabi had mysteriously obtained from a house that he definitely did not burn down.  

“Come,” he said simply, resting a hand down on his lap.  It was not a suggestion, but a command.  You shamefully lowered your eyes, obediently following his directions and sitting upon his knees in a less than graceful fashion.  Your back was fully upright, form tense and rigid in the uncomfortable position.  Dabi, however, was not a fan of your reluctance, and suddenly wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you backwards into his chest and grazing the top of your head with his scarred chin.  You fell into him, limp and powerless against his vice-like grip on your torso, feeling much like a ragdoll as you rested your body against his.  

A laugh bubbled out of Dabi’s lips as he held you.  “Really, look at your ribs!”  He said, snatching up the hem of the gown and pulling it up to your chest.  You flinched at the exposure, still not fully accustomed to the fact that he could do that to you, that he could do anything to you.  His hand moved down to your lower half, pressing into your hip bone uncomfortably and toying with it in a disgusting manner.  Still his fingers fell lower, gripping your inner thigh and grazing over your clothed heat, an involuntary shiver erupting across your legs as he did so.  

“Little whore,” he chuckled lightly.  He finally released your dress, letting it settle back over your legs and he pulled his other hand away from where it was laying tantalizingly upon your creamy thigh.  You let out a breath that you were holding in as he did so, glad to be free from his teasing touches.  His fingers settled in your hair, petting it lightly, although his gentle massaging provided you with little comfort.  Instead, they just felt patronizing.  

Your body jolted as he fastened his fingers on your scalp, pulling harshly on your locks and flinging your chin backwards as he tugged.  A gasp left your lips, followed by a light whimper as you moved to try and resist him, body squirming and fingers pulling against his arms pathetically.   “Now tell me,” he spoke as you struggled.  “Why aren’t I enough for you?”  You looked at him, confused, your body stilling despite his burning grip on your hair.  

“W-What?”

“I see how you act around crusty over there,” he said, nodding to the door that led out of his bedroom.  You assumed that he was talking about Shigaraki, the nickname seeming too cruel for the man, who had been at least more civil to you than Dabi ever was.  “You basically whore yourself out to him and the other guys whenever I allow you to talk to ‘em.  Fucking beggar.”

“I don’t k-know what you mea-”

“God, really?  It’s bad enough that you’re a slut, but turns out you’re stupid too,”  He said, seething.  “The way you talk to them, like you’re begging for them to fuck you.  The way you let your dress ride up on your legs when you sit near them.  I see it all, dolly.”  You cringed once more at the nickname.  You thought about his accusations, trying to look for a way out of this situation, preferably one where you don’t end up with burn marks all over your neck.  Survival instincts kicked in as you softened your body, turning your brows up slightly and pouting a bit.  You looked like a child, or maybe a lost puppy.  Exactly what Dabi liked.

“I’d never give myself to anyone b-but you,” you said, slurring your words and stuttering purposefully.  

“Mm..” Dabi hummed.  “Really pet?”  

You shook your head affirmatively, swallowing down the bile that had made its home in your throat.  He looked down upon you, his eyes gleaming contentedly, cerulean orbs penetrating the dim light of the room.  

“Prove it.”

Your eyes widened a bit, pupils dilating as a smirk stretched across his cruel face.  

“Down.”  His eyes flicked to the floor, gazing upon the cold cement that lay beneath his planted feet.  His grip on your hair released as you moved to get up, legs shaking as you lowered yourself before him, kneeling on the icy floor.  

“You know what to do now, don’t you pet?”  You gulped heavily at his words, letting your eyes drift to the sickening bulge in his pants.  Trembling hands reached out and undid his belt, your fingers fumbling awkwardly with the buckle as you did so.  

“Good.”  You watched with bated breath as he slid his pants button out of its hole and unzipped his pants.   He reached into his boxers next, freeing his cock and looking down at you expectantly.  

You reached your hands out once more, this time taking hold of his throbbing member.  Your fingers grew slick with a bit of precum, delicate digits tracing it down his shaft as you massaged it.  Dabi’s head fell back as you finally took his dick into your mouth and maneuvered yourself closer to him, just as you knew he would want.  Your tongue glided over it, caressing the veins that sat on his length as you licked up and down his cock.  He let out a sinful groan, letting his hand wander to your hair and grabbing your locks back up between his calloused digits.  

“Hnnn...Little whore, that’s right…” He murmured, looking down on you with a piercing gaze.  “Getting..close,” he said, and you took this as your sign to up your already strenuous pace.  You nursed him to his climax, cringing as he finally peaked, a moan tumbling involuntarily from your lips as he began to shake.  He emptied his load into your mouth, ribbons of white painting your throat like a canvas.  A gasp left you as he pushed you back, causing you to scrape your hands against the floor beneath you as you caught yourself, seed dribbling down your chin and falling onto the silken fabric of your nightdress.  He stared you down, catching his breath as he tucked himself back into his pants.  

“Swallow.”  The word came out breathy and depraved.  Your eyes widened a bit.  You never got used to this part, despising the taste of the salty streams that always coated your mouth after your sessions.  Cringing, you willfully gulped down and licked the area around your lips, gazing up at him with watery eyes, just as you knew he liked.  

Dabi looked down at your disheveled state, eyes roaming over your body and brows downturning in fake pity.  He reached his hand out, gliding his finger beneath your lash line and gleaning the tears that had gathered there.  “Poor little slut…” He drew his tear-coated finger from your face, lifting it to his mouth and running his tongue along the wet digit.  He rubbed his hand against his charcoal colored pants before standing up, purposefully stepping over your vulnerable form and accidentally clamping the sole of his shoe down on your locks, which were splayed across the chilled floor of the room.

You whimper in pain, the tug on your hair adding to your already aching headache.  He gazed back down at you, mockery swirling within his cruel eyes.  “I’m sorry angel, did that hurt?”  He pouted down at you.  His words were far too enunciated, making you feel like a child as you laid helplessly.  “Here, let me help you up.”  Dabi reached his arm out for you to grab, intertwining his long fingers with your quivering hand.  

He pulled up on your arm, dragging you upwards from the floor.  Just as you thought the whole ordeal was over, you felt a searing pain spread through your hand.  You tried your hardest to tug away from the man, who was now wearing a sickening grin on his face as the familiar burn of his flames licked across your palm.  “Agh!” You screamed in anguish as you writhed around.  “Stop it!  STOP!  PLEASE!” He doesn’t cease his torture, instead just looking on as the flames began to dance up your arm.  

Before you can even try to beg him again, he begins to speak, voice uncharacteristically soft. “Oh dollface, you know I can’t stop.  I got to prove to everyone that you’re my favorite little plaything.  My little doll.”  You looked at him in complete horror and began to scream, your full body convulsing at the sheer pain that he was inflicting on you.  You watched him out of the corner of your tear-brimmed eyes as his eyes widened at your thrashing form.  The pain suddenly lessened as his grip on your hand let up, but your arm was still throbbing. You were certain that it was going to scar.  

Looking down, you realized that the burn had managed to form some sort of spiral pattern around your arm, the burn marks looking almost akin to vines.   Sliding down the wall and cradling your injured arm, you sobbed to yourself, not even taking notice as Dabi left the room.  Your only focus was on your limp limb, and the horribly apparent scars that now covered it.  

Dabi shut the door behind him, clicking the lock into place and leaning against it for support.  His head was spinning, thoughts mingling and grating against the expanse of his mind. For some reason, seeing you so utterly despaired and broken after he burned you had pained him. He tried vainly to push that thought from his mind, the very notion of empathy so foreign to him that it disgusted him, that it repulsed him to his very core.  Before he knew it, his mind had wandered over to his childhood, to the many tortuous years that he had long sought to forget.  He remembered the cruel way that Enji had conducted himself around his mother, the way that he would shove her around and condescend her without a care in the world.  He shook the thoughts off quickly, pushing away the guilt that was slowly climbing through his stomach and threatening to suffocate him if he spent too much time thinking about it.  Before long, that shit eating grin he always seemed to wear returned to his face.  He thought about the marks he had given you, the expanse of charred skin that now covered your boney arms.  Now everyone knew that you belonged to him, as they should.  You were his property, and others should know not to touch what belongs to him, what is rightfully his.  And you were just this.

You jolted up from your position at the click of a door, dropping your arm which you were previously nursing.  You backed away from his looming form as he entered the room, shutting your eyes tightly and clutching your arms to close to your chest.  You felt Dabi’s presence before you as he crouched down to your level, slowly reaching out for your singed arm.  You whimper as you sensed him growing closer, your eyes quietly cracking open and falling on his larger frame.  You braced for his touch, drawing into yourself and shielding your face with your hands as he approached you, waiting for a strike or another flame against your milky skin.  All you felt, however, was a benign grasp on your burnt arm. You hissed in pain, trying desperately to pull it back, but his hold on you wasn’t letting up, not even slightly.  

“Please..let go of me.  Just.. even killing me would be more merciful than this.  Dabi, at this point...” You whimpered out pathetically, stopping short as the tears pooling in your eyes betrayed you and began to stream down your reddened cheeks, the trickles of tears a testament to how truly afraid you were.  His sudden change in demeanor had only seemed to scare you more, uncharacteristically kind eyes boring into your own.  

“You know doll, I’ve done so much to get and keep you here. Do you really think I’m going to let you go that easily?  Honestly?  I didn’t think you were that dumb.”  You cringed at his pointed words.  “Hmm.. I don’t plan on letting go of you for...however long you live, I suppose,” he finished, punctuating the threatening sentence with a chuckle.  You didn’t dare say anything else as he dropped your wrist, charred arm falling into your lap. Dabi lifts his head to meet yours, sapphire gaze piercing through you.  He kept eye contact as he grasped your singed arm, bringing your heavy hand to his mouth and pressing a few chaste kisses against your sensitive knuckles.  

You gathered your wits and courage as you averted your eyes from him.  “Why are you doing this?  You’re never..like this.”  He just stares at you, standing himself up and backing away from your form.

A few chuckles fall from his lips, the grating sound swiftly turning into full blown laughter as he wrapped his scarred arms around his chest.  “I forgot how much I loved that fearful look in your eyes.  The way you stare at me like I hold your life in my hands.  It’s so..satisfying.  But you know, I’ve still got to be nice to my doll every once in a while.  Can’t have my little toy breaking, now can I?”  You looked up at him, horrified at his condescending words.  “Now, I wish I could stay, but I’ve gotta go.”  Your eyes glistened as he began to stride away from you, calling back to you over his shoulder. “More heroes to kill and chaos to create, you know the drill.  I’ll see you later babe. Be good for me,” he smirked. And with that, he left you alone again, locking the door behind him as he paced out of the room as though nothing had even happened.

Once you were certain that he was gone, you let yourself go. Tears poured down the apples of your cheeks and you muttered out a silent prayer, hoping that someone, anyone would hear you and free you from this horrendous place.  You weeped until you tired yourself out, eventually letting yourself fall asleep.  All you hoped for as you fell into your slumber was that it would be your last rest, and that soon it would be the salvation of death that would be taking you, rather than the cold embrace of sleep.  Anything would be better than staying here another day, and if dying was what it took to leave, you didn’t care.  You just needed to get out.

You refused to be just a mouse caught in Dabi’s trap.  But deep down, you knew that might be exactly what you will remain as, for the rest of your miserable days.  An animal.  A toy.  

A pet.

[samanthadalton]

Slowly falling (part 1)

Pairings: Kamilah x Amy 

This was an idea that came to me a couple of months ago but I’m glad that I finally get to start writing it now. It’s basically a rewrite of chapter 10 of book 1 with the castle attack but I’m putting my own little spin on the story and letting the slow burn unfold more. Hope you guys enjoy ❤️❤️❤️ (also im writing star crossed lovers its just gonna take a few days dw it’s coming) 

tw: mentions of blood and violence so reader discretion is advised 

  taglist: @alleycat97 @cloud9in @avalawrencefl @thedaft1 @mrs-avamontjoy @itszdavenport @iamsimpforpoppy @otakufangirl-12 @orisasay @justavampirefan @manilovshina @waterinathermostat @bloodkueen @sparklesoverlooked (i added people who liked the post about me wanting to write this fic, if you wanna be added or taken off let me know 😊) 

wordcount: 3.4k (its long i know im sorry i was excited) 

Screams fill the room as the first feral crashes through the door, letting out a blood-curdling screech to signal to the rest of the ferals to follow. Within seconds blood sprays all over the walls and floor as the ferals ravenously tear through the sea of vampires, letting their primal instincts out to play. In response, vampires begin running and fighting in all directions, while the humans run to safety, burrowing themselves into the smaller rooms, hoping to not end up as the gory decorations that besiege the room. Amidst all the chaos, the council leaders prepare themselves for battle, Adrian rolls up his sleeves, while Kamilah unsheathes her daggers from her dress. The Baron grabs a huge craving knife from the walls, as Vega stomps on a broken chair using two of its legs as deadly weapons, while Priya seizes a lit torch and begins to intimate the ferals near her,  Lester hisses and bares his fangs as the council members join the fray. Their eyes burn with anger, the redness mirroring the blood spilled as the blur of their bodies move with such elegance and precision slashing through the crowd of ferals. 

Amy watches, paralysed with fear before Lilly pulls her out of her reverie, dragging her away from the confrontation as the roars of both vampires and ferals echo through the hall, the reality of the deadly situation settling into her. Another assembly of ferals breaches through the halls and as Amy and Lily make their way towards the gardens, they lose sight of each other, as the crowds move in all directions, chaos only elevating. 

“Lily! Lily!” Amy frantically looks around the garden, her voice panicked while her breaths come heavy, unable to stop the terror taking over her body. She suddenly stops in her tracks, she slightly narrows her eyes towards the woods to see a lingering figure just standing at the edge before moving into the shadows of the trees and without any hesitation she follows after the figure. Her gaze darts around as she runs through the woods, a dubious feeling in the pit of her stomach but she subsides her doubts and pushes through. It isn’t until she hears a snarl she stops in her tracks, her heart practically leaping out of her chest. 

She slowly turns and sees a feral with blood dripping down its face as it hisses at the girl and leaps towards her. Amy lets out a yelp and leaps to the side, barely dodging its attack. “Oh my god!” The feral advances towards Amy ready to attack again, it manages to shove her to the floor, its slender fingers tightening around her arms, as blood slowly trickles down her arms. Amy lets out a sob as the feral bares its fangs, leaning closer to the girl’s face, ready to tear her to pieces. Drawing on all her strength, Amy attempts to push the feral away, her eyes scanning the environment looking for a weapon to help her. A small branch sits out of reach to her, and after a moment's deliberation, she uses one hand to reach out to the branch, her strength diminishing as she uses her other hand to hold the feral back. She grunts as she stretches her fingers, the feral digs its nails into Amy more and she screams in pain. Motivated by what she thinks are her last few moments, Amy lets out a primal cry and uses the last of her strength to grab onto the branch before plunging it through the feral's chest. The black blood splatters all over her face as she watches the feral turn into dust, the last few embers of it floating in the air as the wind blows it away. She takes a few moments to catch her breath before a resounding series of slow claps cuts through the silent atmosphere. 

“Damn, I was rooting for the feral.” 

The familiar voice brings shivers down Amy’s spine as she lifts her fatigued body off the ground, her voice a low gruff, “you.” 

“Yes, me.” Nicole stands before the girl, a sated smirk on her face as she steps closer to the girl, as she does, the moonlight shines down on her, specifically on the crossbow in her hands as she dangles it by her side. 

“You’re the one behind the feral attack.” Amy’s nostrils flare as she carefully watches Nicole’s grip on the crossbow tightening, slowly biding her time before she makes a move for it. 

“Wow looks and brains, I can see why Adrian chose you as his little pet.” She takes one step closer, all amusement wiped from her face as her gaze intensently burns into Amy’s. “Before I kill you, tell me something. How’d you know it was me?” 

Amy lip quivers slightly before she bites down on it, Nicole finds her display of fear amusing letting out a small chuckle, but she cocks her head to the side, curiosity glistening in her eyes. “Well?”

“You told us you wouldn’t be here tonight. And even though you were in the woods too, the feral only came for me.” 

“Mmm, two and two. I didn’t think you had it in you.” Nicole takes one more step towards Amy and levels up the crossbow to her forehead, “I guess Adrian needs to look for another assistant now.” 

“Why? Why are you doing this?” Amy cries out, she grits her teeth together in an endeavour to stop the tears in her eyes from falling. The corners of Nicole’s lips slightly quirk upwards as her finger hovers over trigger, “this goes far beyond you Amy. You’re just collateral.” 

“Who are you working for because I know Adrian would never want this.” 

“That old prude, please.” Nicole lets out an exasperated huff, “Adrian’s always been such a good boy following the rules, but he played me. Strung me along and made me do everything for him without giving me what I wanted most.” 

“You wanted to turn.”

“And he knew that, and he kept letting me get my hopes up until your idiotic friend had to get herself hurt and took my rightful place in his clan.” The glare in Nicole’s eyes turn to pure hatred, as her hands shake in fury, “but at least tonight I get my revenge.” Just as she’s about to pull the trigger, Amy tackles Nicole to the ground and the two women begin brawling with each other, trying to grab the crossbow. 

Amy wildly swings her arms and knocks the crossbow out of Nicole’s arms as Nicole delivers a sharp blow to Amy’s gut, knocking the wind out of her. The VP begins to crawl towards the crossbow and just as she reaches out to grab it, Amy jumps on her back and pulls her arm away. 

“Why...don’t...you...just….die?” Nicole rolls over, pushing Amy to the ground before wrapping her hands around the girl’s throat. “Guess we’ll do this the old fashioned way.” Amy begins hitting at Nicole’s sides, as her gaze slowly starts to become hazy. She feels the air leaving her burning lungs, as Nicole’s grip only tightens, a malicious smile on her face, contentedly watching as she drains the life out of the girl. A flood of adrenaline rushes through Amy’s body just as her life begins slipping away from her, and she uses the opportunity to gouge out Nicole’s eyes with her thumbs. In retort, Nicole hisses and loosens her grip arounds Amy’s neck. Amy lets out a huge gasp, letting the crisp air infiltrate her lungs and shoves Nicole off her body, reaching out for the crossbow and clamps her hands on it as soon as her hands touch it. Nicole freezes as she’s on her knees, expression startled, she lifts her hands up defenselessly and begins pleading. 

“Please..don’t do this.” 

Amy tightens her hold on the crossbow, trying to stop her shaking hands as she stares down Nicole, “why should I? You almost killed me.” 

Nicole shakes her head, tears falling from her eyes, “please, please.” 

“Stop! Just stop!” Amy keeps the crossbow aimed at Nicole but she doesn’t make a move to do anything. All of a sudden Nicole’s pleading stops as she smugly looks at the girl, a glimmer of gratification in her eyes. 

“You can’t do it.” The smile on Nicole’s face only broadens, she lets out a small devilish laugh as she slowly begins to stand, her hands still held up as she does. 

“Stop! Just stay there.” Amy apprehensively squeaks out, the crossbow still pointing at the VP. 

“You won’t do it. You’re not a killer.” Nicole degradingly pouts, her voice painfully demeaning, “you’re Adrian’s little pet. Too innocent for a world filled with killers.” 

“You don’t know anything about me,” Amy counters. 

“But I know enough. Why did you even agree to stay? You could’ve walked away, you could’ve had a clean conscience, no blood on your hands.” 

“I’ve never killed anyone!” 

“Really?” Nicole raises an inquisitive eyebrow as she slowly steps towards Amy, “tell that to the feral you just killed.” Nicole lunges forwards, trying to grab the weapon from Amy’s hand but the trigger jams and suddenly Nicole lets out a huff before dropping down to the floor, her hands clutching her chest as her clothes begin to soaked in a crimson liquid. Amy gasps, throwing the crossbow to the side as her hand uselessly hovers over the spike in Nicole’s chest before using her hands as a compress to stop the blood flow. 

“No. No. No. No. No.” Nicole’s blood permeates onto Amy’s hands, as she wipes her hands on her clothes before putting her hands back into the same position. “Please,” she whispers pleadingly as Nicole’s breaths come out in short intervals, blood sprouting from her mouth and oozing down her cheeks. When Amy meets Nicole’s eyes she doesn’t see any fear...just acceptance. Nicole laughs derisively, small flecks of blood falling on chin as she does. 

“You..have...no...idea...what’s..coming...next.” 

Amy momentarily freezes as Nicole’s words sink in, she realises she has still yet to learn who Nicole is working with but realises it’s too late when Nicole’s body is motionless, her eyes lifelessly hanging open. Amy lets out a choked sob, hands trembling as she glares at Nicole’s body, reality settling in. Her breaths become panicked, as she shuffles herself away from the body, she shields her eyes and uncontrollably breaks down. 

“Amy?” A soft voice calls out to her, and Amy lifts her head to see a worried Kamilah standing in front of her, her own face and hands painted in blood. Kamilah carefully turns her head to look at Nicole’s body before shifting her gaze back to the human, “did you?” she trails off as Amy frantically nods her head, her body still filled with tremors. “Hey.” Kamilah squats in front of the girl and carefully puts two fingers under her chin lifting her head until their eyes are trained on one another. “Take a deep breath in and then a deep breath out.” Amy attempts to follow Kamilah’s advice, inhaling and exhaling deeply and slowly until she finally has control over her own breath. She nods in appreciation to the vampire. “Are you going to tell me what happened here?” 

“Kamilah I-” Amy murmurs, her voice laced with pain, “she’s the one behind the feral attack.” 

“What?” 

“She tried attacking me but the crossbow, it jammed and then-” Amy cuts herself off as tears begin brimming in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to” she violently shakes her head, as her body begins to tremble again. 

“Listen to me. You did her a favor.” Amy inquisitively gazes at Kamilah, confusion written on her face. 

“What are you talking about? I should’ve brought her back to her council, you guys should have dealt with it.” Kamilah tuts in response as she turns her head towards Nicole, fury burning in her eyes. 

“The council would have made her suffer for being behind the attack, you did an act of mercy.” 

“I don’t feel like I did,” Amy pulls her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly. Kamilah for the first time inspects the human’s, she assesses the mixed colours of black and red on her face and the scratches and blood all over her dress and arms. Kamilah stands and moves towards Nicole’s body and just as she’s about to lift her body Amy shouts out, “no! Please, no one can know about this.” 

“Amy…” 

“Please Kamilah,” Amy says pleadingly, “Adrian, Lily, they can’t find out, please.” 

Kamilah sighs, before she begins to rub her temples, “okay, wait here.” She wordlessly leaves and a few moments later returns with a shovel in her hands and begins digging in the ground next to Nicole’s body. When she’s created a hole deep enough, she carefully lifts Nicole’s body and lays into the newly dug hole and begins to fill it up again. Amy silently watches the soil hit Nicole’s body as the grave begins filling up until Nicole’s body is completely concealed. Kamilah lets out a huff before looking over to Amy who hasn’t moved from her spot in the last hour. “Amy?” Amy noncommitedly hums in response, her gaze never leaving Nicole’s grave. “Come on,” Kamilah reaches out her hand awaiting for Amy to take it and as Amy’s hands slide into hers, Kamilah effortlessly pulls Amy up, before pulling her hand away. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Kamilah walks out of the woods with Amy trailing behind her and the women catch the train, silence filling up the atmosphere as they wordlessly trudge up to Amy’s apartment. A breath of relief escapes Amy when she comes home to an empty apartment, glad that Lily isn’t here to question the state she’s in. Kamilah promptly stalks towards the bathroom and Amy closely follows behind. Kamilah grabs a towel from the cabinet and begins running the water, dabbling the towel under the water. “Come,” she commands as Amy obediently stands in front of the vampire as Kamilah lifts the wet towel and delicately begins dabbing away at the blood. Amy watches as Kamilah’s brows furrow ever so slightly, a hint of concern in her features as she softly wipes away at the blood. 

Without thinking, Amy lifts her hands to cup Kamilah’s face, Kamilah’s breath slightly hitches as she freezes while the human’s thumbs gently stroke the vampire’s cheeks, surveying the dried blood on her face. “There’s so much blood,” she quietly speaks out. 

Kamilah keepsher focus on wiping away the blood on Amy’s face, unable to look into her eyes, as she responds, “nothing that hasn’t happened before.” Kamilah freezes, her face scrunched up before her hand trails down Amy’s arm. “Take off your dress.” 

“What?” 

Kamilah stares at the human, her gaze serious. “Take. Off. The. Dress.” Amy turns and pulls the zipper down and as she does Kamilah gasps. 

“How did I not pick up on this before?” 

Her fingertip ghosts down Amy’s back as Amy looks over her shoulder, “picked up on what?” 

“You’re- you’re hurt.” Kamilah touches the large gash on Amy’s back and Amy’s recoils in pain. 

“Ow!” 

“Here, let me heal you.” Kamilah’s fangs descend as she lightly pricks her finger with her tooth and presses the blood onto Amy’s back. “There, it should heal soon.” 

“Thanks.” 

“This is taking too long, you should take a shower and clean off the rest of the blood.” Kamilah turns to leave but Amy grips her wrist slightly pulling the vampire back. 

“Please stay, I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

Kamilah contemplates but as she takes in Amy’s distraught demeanour, her gaze softens and she sighs, “okay.” Amy pushes off her dress, but keeps her bra and panties on as she steps into the shower and begins running the water. A few moments later, Kmailah follows suit, letting her dress join Amy’s on the floor as she steps into the shower half naked. 

Wordlessly Kamilah cups Amy’s face and lets the water begin to wash away the blood, her thumbs tenderly stroking the human’s jaw as she does. Amy, although slightly taken back by the vampire’s sudden benevolence, allows Kamilah to gently caress her face. In return Amy squirts some shower gel into her hands, letting the suds bubble up in her hands before cleaning away the blood on Kamilah’s face. Kamilah tenses, realising her abrupt hesitation, Amy stops but keeps her hands on Kamilah’s face, her eyes searching the vampire’s. When Kamilah doesn’t pull away, she continues rinsing off the blood as the two women soundlessly help each other to clean up, the intensity of the atmosphere being more intimate than any moment shared between them before.

Kamilah senses Amy’s mind drifting and speaks out, “it gets easier.” 

Amy looks up at the vampire, solemnly, “which part, the killing or the guilt?” 

They continue washing off the blood in silence until Kamilah replies, “both.”

Once they are cleaned up, Amy offers Kamilah some of her newer clothes to try on. Kamilah hesitantly but without complaint puts them on before moving towards the front door, when she turns back to look at Amy, Amy can already sense Kamilah’s walls being built back up as her usual cold demeanour takes over. 

“Right, I should be getting back to the council, Vega’s called an emergency meeting.” 

“Do you know what it’s for?” 

Kamilah shakes her head, her voice devastatingly monotone, “most likely to figure out how to spin this story and clean up the mess back at the mansion. According to Vega, amidst the..” she clears her throat and carefully chooses her words, “events of tonight, Marcel was killed by the ferals.” 

Amy gasps, sadness overcoming her senses, “oh my god.”

“Well, for now you need to lay low.” 

“What about Lily? Where is she?” 

“I’m not sure,” Amy sharply draws in her breath but Kamilah lays a hand on her shoulder, “Adrian told me she’s okay.” Amy exhales elatedly. “You need to find her and lay somewhere safe for now. Something tells me that someone was using Nicole as a puppet and your apartment might not be safe for you right now.” At the sound of Nicole’s name Amy tenses, fear creeping up on her. 

“Are you going to tell them?” 

“I promised you I wouldn’t. I’ll….figure it out but for now lay low okay?” 

Amy nods and Kamilah removes her hand from the girl’s shoulder before giving her a curt nod, leaving the human in the apartment. Amy takes out her phone and texts Lily, a few seconds later Lily responds and Amy pin drops a location for Lily to meet her at. 

Eventually she meets with Lily and Jax and Jax gives the girls a tour of the shadowden where the girls meet members of the clanless and seek refuge in the shadowden for a few hours. Eventually a commotion of voices interrupt the tour as they step out to see Kamilah being held by two clanless as the crowd begin cheering and screaming at her presence. When Amy looks at Kamilah she feels a pang of disappointment in her chest as she sees Kamilah has changed back into her regular suit. After some convincing Jax lets the women go and they all go to Kamilah’s office for some privacy after Kamilah explains there has been a development in the recent attack. 

“Well? What’s going on?” Lily blurts out. Kamilah stalks towards her drinks tray pouring out half a glass of bourbon before downing it in one gulp. “Hello?” 

Kamilah shoots daggers at Lily and the young vampire immediately clamps her mouth shut. “It seems we have an issue.” 

“What’s wrong?” Amy asks and for the first time since Kamilah left Amy’s apartment, she stares directly into the human’s eyes, an unfamiliar glint in her eye. 

“They’re saying it’s Adrian.” Kamilah grits her teeth, her nostrils slightly flaring. 

“What is?” Lily raises an speculative eyebrow at the older vampire. 

“They’re saying he’s behind the attack at the castle.” 

“What? Who the hell is saying that?” Amy speaks out, the anger on her face almost matching the level of Kamilah’s. 

“The council. They’re giving him a trial in a week, to determine if he’s innocent or guilty.” 

“What happens if they think he’s guilty?” 

Kamilah squeezes the glass in her hand, crushing it into pieces as Amy and Lily share a worried glance, “he dies.” 

[carynsilver]

Favorite Fics: Malex Edition

It’s a new year (quite definitively at this point), and a new set of fic recs. Just my small way of saying thank you to the writers who have made the past year, with all its challenges, a little better for me personally. Without the escape of reading, I don’t think I would’ve gotten through the past eleven months, so thank all of y’all for creating (now and in the past) and for sharing your work. You do it for free, and it’s amazing stuff.

If you’re interested, I previously shared my top 10 Stucky, Drarry, Stony, and Darcy Lewis (Wintershock, Shieldshock, and Tasertricks, mostly) fic lists. Today, I’ve finally decided on my top 10 Maxlex fics. So, in no particular order...

my love is a life taker by @jocarthage

If I were making a top 10 fics of all time list, this story would be on it. The breadth and scope of it is truly amazing, as is the writing. There’s world-fixing time travel and an interesting take on our favorite aliens and what could’ve been. Alex as a time agent is both so tragic and also so strong as he begins his journey of self discovery. He’s such an unreliable narrator, and yet also can clearly see so many things. Watching Michael’s growth through the years is just as fascinating as watching Alex travel through time. And it’s juxtaposed with the present so well. This Alex and Michael learn to communicate as they learn about themselves. And the story also taught me a ton about the Middle East and various historical events. I really love this story, and you should definitely read it right now if you haven’t yet.

To Trust Love by @laughsalot3412

This fic is amazing. It takes hurt/comfort to the nth degree. Michael, Isobel, and Max are the only remaining prisoners/subjects in Project Shepherd, and Alex (with the help of Liz, Kyle, and Maria) goes under cover as a guard to get them out. But to do so, first he has to gain their trust--an almost impossible test. The tweaks to the alien abilities and the handprint are interesting. Jesse Manes, as always, is absolutely horrible. But good wins in the end, and the boys are able to figure things out despite the mistakes they make along the way. I mean, trigger warnings for so much in a prison fic with Jesse Manes in it, but it is an awesome story. This author only wrote one RNM fic, but it’s a great one.

From Iraq, with Love by @adiwriting

Alex leaves for basic no way to contact Michael, so he reaches out to him via a YouTube channel. Alex writes years and years’ worth of love songs, hoping maybe Michael will see them and get in touch. The scene when Michael finally sees them is a gut punch in the best way, and the end is so satisfying. A truly excellent story, and I love how music from the heart eases their way into real communication--because, man, that is what these poor boys need.

unexpected tidings by @bestillmyslashyheart

The Vegas fic! Actually, that is not what this fic is about. There is only one scene set in Vegas, and yet that was the one I remembered when I was trying to find the fic again, lol. In this AU, Michael was never reunited with his siblings in Roswell, but he and Alex meet after Alex enlists. They meet three different times in three different states, and eventually fall in love. Then Alex has to come home to Roswell and take care of this little alien problem so his boyfriend can be safe from the horror that is Jesse Manes. One of the best things about this story is the past/present narrative structure. Only a really good writer can tell a successful story out of chronological order, and @bestillmyslashyheart really succeeds. Check out her other work, as well, such as A Simple Life (but with aliens).

Shadow Work by @myrmidryad

This fic has stellar world building. Alex and Michael are shades--people who work banishing hauntings, curses, etc. The scientific way the supernatural elements are approached is so interesting, as well as the different ways humans and aliens perceive them. Alex is a total unreliable narrator just because of how the haunt is affecting him, but he still gets the job done. This is a world you can just sink into. Totally immersive, and yet it works so well with the alien mythology we already have. And the conclusion to the haunt mystery is so satisfying. Such a great story!

Lovin’ you is a gift tonight (Lovin’ you for all of my life) by @bellakitse

Michael turned his cheek when Alex tried to kiss him, and then Alex and Rosa ran off to NYC before anything else could happen. Michael thinks of Alex as the one who got away, and then he runs into him when he’s stuck at the airport in Denver, trying to get home to Roswell for Christmas. Their reunion in the airport is fluffy and amazing, just a pleasure to read. And then they end up back in Roswell and all the other stuff comes into play in a really satisfying, let’s-deal-with-it-as-adults-instead-of-children kind of way. Ah, so good!

scream in there by thepredatorywasp

I’ll be honest, this one starts a little rough emotionally, but man, Alex and Michael really earn their happily ever after here. It is worth it. And then we get River! I enjoy a good kid!fic, and River the little alien found in a pod who gloms onto Alex and never lets go is amazing! River is my favorite kiddo that I’ve ever read in a Malex story.

truth (to the people we love) by @lambourngb

This is probably the shortest fic on my rec list. I am biased toward the long ones, I know. But man this one packs a punch. Alex recorded a goodbye message when he was overseas, and he has to tell it not to auto send every week. Then he is kidnapped for ten days... I don’t want to spoil too much, but just read it. It also plays with the narrative structure. And if you like this one, definitely check out @lambourngb‘s other stories. collect the bad habits and Vows are also great reads!

I Know Nothing Stays the Same by @aewriting

This is one of those stories that sticks in your head. It is awful (emotion-wise, not writing-wise) and wonderful all wrapped up together in the best way. Alex and Michael run away after the shed incident and go into hiding for five years. This is the past storyline. There’s also a present and a future. The ending of this story was so gorgeous, I don’t want to spoil it, but I remember it all the time when I think of Malex. Lovely and poignant. This is another version of this couple that <i>earn</i> their happiness together. And if you want even more in this ‘verse, the very talented @andrea-lyn (who also has a ton of great Malex stories) wrote a coda called There’s More Room in a Broken Heart.

Send Me Home by @litwitlady

I waffled back and forth about which story would fill the final slot. It’s always so hard to choose when there are so many excellent ones out there, but I had to have one of @litwitlady‘s stories on the list. She has quite a few excellent ones, but Send Me Home is my favorite. Michael the baseball player is both compelling and also heartwarming in his softer life. This is another fic where Alex is a musician, this one an actual country music star. So, it’s a sports fic and a celebrity romance, in addition to being a Malex RNM story. it is a WiP, which I sometimes hesitate to rec, but there’s only one more chapter to go, so I feel pretty safe about it. And she has lots of other stories you should check out. I’m fond of the Reunion series, as well.

So, that’s it for this post. Thanks again to all the amazing fanfic authors and their awesome work. I’ve read so many great Malex fics lately. On this list or not, I appreciate you guys!

[impaladolan]

Control Freak - Grayson Dolan

summary: after Choff production lines CEO (finally) retires, a new boss makes his way into Y/N’s world..

warnings: sexual references/undertones

a/n: another Grayson series, i can’t help myself :)) enjoy!! also, ily <3

Ugh, he was in one of his moods again.

The office cubicles were hastily bustling with nervousness and terror. At any given moment, the infuriated man, so-called boss, will be bursting through the double doors with a dark red tint across his cheeks and maybe even smoke out of his ears, if you're lucky.

Mr. Kidman has never been good with the whole "patience is a virtue" thing, he's a ticking time bomb at all hours of the day. Nothing ever satisfies him, nor remotely excites him, he just finds something to yell and scream about at some poor unfortunate soul and then continues his merry day. But today, he was furious. He had no empathy for anyone, even his favorite two little secretaries that wear push-up bras like a side-job. Apparently someone had brought him the wrong breakfast order and everything just went downhill from there.

Unlike all the others, you seemed calm and composed amongst all this mayhem, but only because you, and maybe two others, knew that 'Old Angry Kidman' was finally retiring. Yep, freedom at last. Well, unless the new guy, or girl, has terrible anger issues.

So you just sat at your clean and pristine desk, typing another draft and adding it to the plentiful piles saved on your work computer, while soundlessly chewing on a mint piece of gum that substituted for the absence of a tooth brushing the morning of. But your quick finger movements were hushed once Mr. Kidman, as predicted, flew straight through the doors with his signature fiery red face and sweat droplets dotting his thinning hairline. "Every body fucking up! I've fucking had it with all of you." He demands, majority of the room raising from their seats with caution. With his teeth tightly gritted and his lips in a fine line, he swirls his index finger in the air, motioning to all of his terrified workers.

"If it were my fuckin' decision, I'd have each and everyone of you pieces of shits fired and on the streets in point ZERO-TWO seconds. You all are fucking lucky that this is my last day here, son's of bitches." A man of few nice words, that he is. The nicest thing you've ever heard him say was thank you, and that was two years ago. His vulgar and aggressive attitude truly brings the worth of working this job down. If it weren't for the good pay and lack of any other remotely feasible company jobs, you would've quit a long time ago.

But alas, you still endure the inevitable fiery reign of his obstructive wrath on the daily.

-

Dolan is his name.

The new boss, that is. That's the only information you and the rest of the staff knew, besides that he's a male. He hasn't shown up for work yet, or even formally introduced himself. Hell, you don't even know what he looks like. But you were certainly nervous for his arrival.

What if he's just like Kidman, or worse?

It most certainly made you nervous to think that this new guy could ever be worse than Kidman. You were hoping and praying that the he'd at least value his workers and employees.

Everyone, on your office floor, was anticipating the days and hours of his big arrival. No one was certain of when he was going to show up, or if. But nonetheless you were one of the most nervous ones. You held the highest title among your coworkers, except CEO of course, but you were pretty up there when it came to business standards. Everyone seemed to like you as well, your kind nature and natural non-brutal attitude sure did make up for other people's. Of course, you didn't really have an office of your own, because you enjoyed the time spent with the people around you. You truly loved the relationship and humbleness you gained from it. At least you weren't a snotty bitch, right?

There were plenty of little rumors around the workspace that you'd become the new (and improved) owner of this whole entire manufacturing company. Specifically a well known fashion line, Choff. The floor that you, and many of the other leading workers, were on was basically the information database. But from time to time, you'd find yourself strolling through the other, more clothing/model filled areas. Just to see how things were flowing.

Which is actually what you're doing in this moment; running your fingers along the racks filled with hangers that held all the fitted clothing items. It seemed like fun to be down here, measuring and sewing the different outfits to the men and women, but it also seemed stressful. Everyone's always in a rush, with their exploding New York accents and their flailing around all over the place. It's pretty amusing to watch from afar, but you'd be scared to get in anyone's way. They'd probably just run you over and continue their day unaffected.

With that thought in mind, you abruptly come to a stop when you run into the muscular backside of someone, startling you from your stare on the tiled flooring. You uttered a few apologies, taking a step back and straightening your pencil skirt from its newfound wrinkles.

"Lost, darling?" Your eyes trail the floor before you until they're stuck on a pair of shiny dress shoes, attached to a pair of long legs and a broad chest. Your eyes finally landed on the remarkably handsome face, of someone you didn't quite recognize. It wasn't uncommon to stumble across unknown employees, but could it be him?

"Frankly, no." You shortly answer, studying his jaw-dropping features. He was indubitably perfect, without a doubt. With a nicely trimmed beard decorating his beautifully shaped jawline, and big hazel eyes that stared right back at your own, he seemed unearthly. Like he was God's favorite angel sent down from heaven, just to show you a glimpse of what it'd really be like inside the pearly gates. "Are, um, you?" You weren't exactly nervous, just mystified. His recent smile grew into what seemed to be a smirk, while his right side's dimple grew more prominent.

"I'd like to say that I'm not, but I sadly am." He shrugs with a chuckle, sending a wave of unbeknownst pleasure through your ears and fluttering down your spine, until the ends of your toes were satisfied with his deep and raspy voice. "Could you maybe show me around this gigantic place? I've been in need of assistance for the last hour or so." He questions you, dropping his shoulders back and letting his eyes roam your stature before drifting to the interior of the long hallway the two of you are currently standing around in. "I very well could, but I have a dreadful meeting to attend to within the next five to ten minutes." Actually, the meeting was in fifteen minutes. You just simply wanted to see the man's reaction, which wasn't what you though it'd be;

"Perfect, I'll be in attendance for that as well. If you'd so kindly lead the way, I would most appreciate it." He smoothly negotiated, stuffing his right hand, which was tightly wrapped with an expensive looking watch, into his pocket with another grin. He seemed very eloquent with his words and the way he addressed things, it has to be him?

"Do you mind me asking of your name?" You began as you started your trek back to where you came from, your heels quietly clicking from beneath you as you lead the way, him following close behind. "Dolan, Grayson Dolan." He quickly answered. Indeed you were right in thinking he was the new (and maybe improved) CEO of all Choff productions. "New head guy?"

He only nods, to yet another one of your endless questions. "And what's your name, darling?" He asks as the two of you stop at an elevator, his quick hand beating yours to clicking the slightly worn down button. "Y/N Y/L/N, direct head management under you." You relay before boarding onto the empty elevator, the doors closing moments after the two of you were stood side by side. You fidget with the ends of your skirt, staying as calm as possible under his stare that you couldn't help but shrivel under.

"Under me, huh?" You almost gulped at the sound of his double meaninged phrase. Smart guy, hm? Your heart started beating a bit faster the more you thought of his little statement. Your mind became a whirlwind of visuals and fantasies before you could even stop it. Just those two little words had made you all sorts of a mess, and he hasn't even done much of anything. "Don't get too worked up darling, we have a meeting to attend." He chuckles as he steps off the elevator that had opened only seconds ago. You just scoff, your cheeks reddening as you stride right past him, maneuvering through the expanse of people that had just left the staff room, in order for the upcoming meeting to advance.

The moment you were sat in the room and time had passed to where everyone had finally shown up, you felt that lingering feeling of eyes on you. A pair of hazel eyes to be exact, who was sat far from you at the end of the long table. For meeting him not too long ago, he sure did seem comfortable around everyone. It was entirely too soon for you to be liking him already, better yet imagining different scenarios with him as someone boringly rambled. You decided that you'd forget him for the time being and focus on your job, as much as possible.

Though it would be granted as difficult as time moved on..

"That's the conclusion of this meeting. I thank everyone for being here, and I especially appreciate your appearance, Mr. Dolan. I'm happy to say that things around here will continue a lot smoother than it did in the past. And I know most others would agree." Burt Wallace, one of the coordinators, concluded after standing from his seat to dismiss everyone with a nod. While everyone dillydallied in conversations with one another, you in the other hand, hustled straight out of that room and towards the same elevator you had used earlier. The moment you clicked the button, the doors opened wide and you hopped in, tucking yourself in the corner while you gained your breath. You smile to yourself at the successful 'escape' from any questions or perhaps a witty comment from a certain CEO on the loose.

You sigh happily to yourself, watching the doors close again until a hand is stuck between them, pushing them straight back to reveal the man you were somewhat avoiding. "Care if I join you again?" He asked, but he still entered otherwise, clicking one of the many buttons to make the door close. "Did I have a choice?" You almost scoff, feeling his shoulder brush against your own as he stood in the same spot he had previously stood in. "Nah, not really, but I like to seem like a little bit of a gentleman." He answers, the roll of your eyes substituting for the internal scoff that you hadn't let out. The two of you rode in silence for what seemed to be eternity, only the faint sounds of your breaths being heard. As soon as the elevator door clanged and opened, you made a beeline out of there and hustled toward your organized workspace like there was a snake chasing you.

"What's the rush?" Ana Rita, one of the only tolerable women in this entire building, asked as you ducked under your desk. Even though you hadn't looked back to check, you had a feeling he'd follow you, or worse, ask you to meet him in his office. You weren't exactly sure why you were hiding from him, he seemed pretty nice. But he truly intimidated you. Not in a competitive way, more so a physical way. "And why the fuck are you down there?" The redhead crinkled her brows as she looked down her long nose at you. "Just, shhhh!" You bellow quietly, covering your pursed lips with your index finger.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Hot man, six o'clock! Get your ass out of there!" She violently whispered at you, frantically tidying herself for the "hot man," presumably Mr. Dolan as you had predicted, approached your desks. You tightly hug your knees from under your desk, praying to god that he wouldn't somehow see you. "After noon, sir, may I help you?" You cringe at the seductive tone lined in her voice, something that Mr. Dolan unfortunately probably gets a lot of. "I'm looking for Ms. Y/L/N, I have some issues to discuss with her." Yet again, his girthy voice made you sigh with comfort. It's extremely calming to listen to.

"She's actually right here—" Ana, the little asshole she is in this moment, points straight at you as you plead with your eyes and shake your head vigorously. You suddenly see his handsome head peer over at you, his brows scrunched with confusion. "Uhm, cords were messed up, gotta fix them." You awkwardly chuckle, patting the outlet box stuffed with all your monitor's cords. You bring yourself out from below your desk as the two stared at you, dusting your front side and settling down in your office chair with a nervous smile.

"I'd like to have a word with you, in my office."

(masterlist)