#I never feel like I’m properly able to explain the feelings I have. whatever

[sunnnfish]

Maybe I’m okay with it if Hirano never traditionally “loves” Kagi. Or anyone. Maybe it never will turn into the same kind of love Kagi feels. Kagi is nevertheless such a source of inspiration and strength and comfort to Hirano. Even if he never feels a desire to touch or get married or whatever. Maybe he does it because Kagi asks and he loves making Kagi happy most of all. He wouldn’t seek it if not asked. But Kagi is always asking. And he knows it makes Kagi happy. Does anyone see the vision. Do you understand. Maybe kagi will be okay with it if Hirano never “loves” him the same way Kagi loves him. Because he knows how Hirano works and he knows how Hirano cares. And he knows he is unique to Hirano. He knows Hirano wouldn’t do these things with anyone else. And that’s still love in its own way.

[scatteredskittless]

can i sweetly ask for husk x reader angst,,, where the reader has been on work mode as of late thus having them a silly lil arguement (i love tormenring myself 😝) until they decide to make it up/explain why they were so busy later on 👉👈 (maybe a lil makeout session too in the end if you will) :333 tyy!

Overworked! GN! reader x Husker

A/n: You’re so real for this tbh, this was actually pretty fun to write !! My favourite little alcoholic grumpy cat fr ദ്ദി(ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Warnings: mild angst, argument, light talk of alcohol/alcoholism, light makeout near end

Fluff✔️ Comfort✔️ Angst✔️ Smut❌

You arrived back home to the hotel later than usual, you weren’t quite sure when you started to refer to this place as your home but it felt right to do so.

As soon as you walked through the doors you were greeted with a glance and a raised eyebrow from Husk, your boyfriend, as he cleaned and polished some glasses behind the bar. Most likely shutting everything down for the night.

You sigh, slumping down on one of the barstools as you waited for him to finish up what he was doing.

“You look like shit.” Husk observed, setting a now clean and sparkling glass down as he moved on to polishing up the next one.

“Yeah, thanks. That makes me feel so much better knowing my boyfriend thinks I look like shit.” You grumbled back, still quite irritated from the day you had. Your boss was constantly on your ass and making unsolicited remarks about basically everything you did or didn’t do, so coming home and having Husker do the same thing wasn’t exactly helping the situation.

He was a little taken back by your tone, usually you weren’t so sarcastic with him. You saw him pause (hehe paws) what he was doing for a few moments before resuming, trying to remain unfazed.

“All I’m saying is it looks like you had a shitty day..” He mumbled

You rolled your eyes in response, not bothering to say anything else because you knew whatever came out of your mouth next probably wouldn’t be so kind.

But, Husk continued...

“It also feels like I haven’t really been able to just hang out with you in a while.” He commented making you look up from the bar countertop and to his gaze that was already on yours with a glare.

“Well maybe if you wanted to see more of me, you wouldn’t be getting drunk everytime I’m finally off work” you said, your tone snippy which drew a frown out of Husk.

“So now this is my fault?” Husk asked, being slightly sarcastic when he spoke

“Are you implying it’s mine?” You asked back incredulously, the sarcasm seemed to have set you off more which in turn, was making Husks temper flare up as well.

“I never said it was, you’re just being snippy.” He called out as he narrowed his eyes at you. Of course you knew you were being snippy, you couldn’t help it and now you’ve dug yourself into a bit of a hole here.. you and Husker were both very stubborn demons..

“Y’know what? fuck you.” You said without thinking, sliding yourself off the barstool to come around the bar. Wanting to face him properly as you two continued on with your petty argument.

You glared up at him and he glared back for a few seconds before suddenly sweeping you up off your feet and placing you down on the bar countertop and before you could even say any word of protest, his lips smashed against yours with his ears pinned back against his head

Your eyes widened in surprised for a few beats before letting them fall shut, kissing him back and essentially taking all of your anger out in said kiss, arms wrapped around his neck with his wrapped around your waist in turn.

It quickly turned into a makeout session, an angry makeout session would be a better word for it.

Your hand found the fur on the top of his head and gently tugged on it as your tongues pressed up against eachother, causing him to grunt in response

You were both panting when he broke the kiss off, you had both tired yourselves out as he leaned down to press a few kisses to your neck, making you whimper in response. Husk smirked at that.

Once he was done peppering kisses to your neck and collarbone he pulled back, hands still resting on your waist as he did so.

You sigh, meeting his gaze and smile meekly, feeling guilty for your previous actions and words. “I’m… sorry for all that. I’ve just been super stressed and busy with work lately and I shouldn’t be pining all the blame on you.” You apologized genuinely.

He nodded “it’s alright.. I’m also sorry. I’ll work on prioritizing you more. I missed you” he apologized as well, returning your smile.

“I missed you too.” You wrapped your arms around him in a hug, he chuckled and hugged you back, squeezing you when you squeezed him. You couldn’t help but notice the fact that he was purring slightly… clearly you were both content with how this little argument of yours had ended.

Please do not repost, translate, or plagarize any of my fanfictions/writing/headcanons without permission ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

ᯓ★ Scatteredskittles

[lovelybrooke]

IT IS I!! Now that I’ve written about Vox Val and Carmilla I will finally attempt my interpretation of ALASTOR. So just letting you know I was about to send this multiple times within the week but was never satisfied, and so this is an attempt :), I might send in more stuff if I feel this isn’t detailed enough/ incomplete.

Alastor see’s the reader as a fun little puzzle at first, putting them on the stop and trying to figure out what was going on in that little head of theirs, to him this was just entertainment, he really couldn’t care less about the reader, he just saw them as something to keep him entertained if he’s free or bored.

He only really starts to actually like the reader once their a little more comfortable, at least comfortable enough to engage in conversation with Alastor himself or the group, their views on the world, the hotel and whatever is insightful, he finds he actually likes conversing with them even if they don’t agree on most things, the fact that they’re so kind and helpful to everyone, even those who wronged them, intrigues and confuses him, but that isn’t a bad thing, it must just mean that they’re naive and ignorant, he reckons they haven’t actually seen the bad In people. Except he’s wrong, and he learns this during one of their small conversations (with or without the group), the reader spoke about it so casually, their neglect and abuse, it was completely fine to them, they still insist on being kind and helpful to the people who’ve wronged them. Suddenly it isn’t that they’re ignorant, or that they have just been surrounded by good, in a way they’re like him in a way, treated unjustly. (His backstory has yet to be explored but I’m going off of what Vivziepop shared relating to his mother’s death and his weird moral code).

Not to say reader is determined but in Alastor’s mind the reader’s perspective of life is a reflection on their own motivations, and he’s impressed, he might see parts of the reader in charlie but still thinks the reader is distinct in a way Charlie isn’t, they want to help but they aren’t out there, they help in ways that people don’t notice. (I have some examples but I’m shit at explaining so I’ll leave this somewhat up to interpretation) and now that he’s realized this he reflects back to old conversations and realizes how careful they are, not just because they’re anxious but they’re always paying attention, doing little actions that Alastor hadn’t realized is supposed to cater to him.

And now Alastor is really paying attention, is the reader naive? Yes, but they’re so thoughtful in everything they do that he just can’t help but keep watching them, he feels like he’s the only one who’s able to properly guide them, without taking advantage of them. He talks to Rosie about how insightful and clever the reader is, how lovely their company is and so on.

Then he finally notices the Vees watching, as it is he was obsessed but that amplified the second there was competition, suddenly he realizes that someone else could take someone he cares for away from him, and although he always knew there were people out to get him, he didn’t think those same people would want to snatch you.

And me personally I think, every time he feels his relationship with the reader is threatened he’ll become more and more obsessed, more possessive.

ANYWAY IM DONE! I decided to look at some stuff In the canon au master list which helped me a lot :) :), you are free to disagree with anything I wrote thank you for listening!!! (Please pardon any typos)

Omg more stuff I love it.

This was exactly how I viewed Alastor's obsession with reader. Like he views them as a puzzle and wants figure out how/why they're in hell, why they're so nice, what exactly is going on in their head.

And as time goes on this obsession grows and grows, so when he learns that no, reader isn't naive, they've gone through so shit and try their hardest to see the good in people, he's like, genuinely surprised, which is a first for him.

And you're right, Alastor has this idea that he's readers favorite person so when the Vee's and the other overlords start showing interest in reader he becomes way, way more obsessed.

I hope you're writing your own stuff because you're genuinely such an amazing writer, please keep sending stuff in I love it.

[oldstateofmind]

nobody else can heal it (but you) [part l]

➜ pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader ➜ warnings: spoilers from ATSV, a bit of angst cause i’m human, violence, torture, hanahaki disease but make it nightmares instead. english is not my first language. ➜ words: 4.3k ➜ a/n:  I’ve watched this movie 3 times by now because I’m obsessed with Miguel. His character is so interesting and captivating, he’s so grumpy and sad and that just makes me wanna fix him. Ugh, I have a soft spot for anti-heroes. And being voiced by Oscar Isaac is the icing on the cake. This first part sets the tone because I just can’t jump straight to smut, but I promise I’ll compensate next chapter.

chapter l. bad disease

For too long, you've been yearning for Miguel; only to be trapped in an endless nightmare. While awake, you had to live with the fact that he was out of reach – tearing your soul apart. While sleeping, violence and death had his face – tearing your whole being apart. No matter when or where; you were maimed by the same man.

Ao3

l.

It starts with a hiss; then a shadow moving in the corner of your vision.

In the dark, cold envelops your body; chilling to the bone. It’s awfully quiet besides the continuous dripping of water in the distance, the echoes of each drop remind you of a ticking clock; counting the time you’ve left – for what, however, you’re not really sure.

You rub your arms in an attempt to bring a bit of warmth back to your skin, and as always, it’s useless. It seems like a forever winter inside the place you’ve found yourself in for the past 2 weeks. 

What once started as a nightmare that made you wake up in the middle of the night, now plagues your mind every time you close your eyes. There’s no escape from it, no matter how hard you try. You’re more than tired, it’s exhausting not getting more than 3 hours of sleep when your job requires attention and disposition.

Even the pills Lyla gave you last time you were at the HQ didn’t work – actually, they made it even worse. Because then, your body was completely knocked out while your mind was terribly awake, reliving the scene over and over again. You threw them down the drain once you woke up. Never again.

And even though you already know what happens by now, it is still dreadful to wait for the nightmare to unfound. Your senses are hyper-aware of every single tiny sound, every movement in the dark. 

There’s something poetic in the way you can feel him move even with your eyes closed; the way you could recognize the pattern of his breathing in the distance even when fear creeps into your brain. Your spider-sense tingles as his heavy steps are headed toward you, it screams danger. Goosebumps break out across your body, sending a small, cold shiver through your spine. 

Red is the first thing you see. And also the last.

-

“...to Y/N.” Someone is calling you in the distance, but the hazy feeling of the nightmare still lingers within you. It’s hard to focus when your brain still hasn’t turned off properly for weeks, still trapped in whatever curse this is.

“Earth to Y/N, is anyone there?” There’s a snap in front of your eyes, and you suddenly flinch with the unexpected sound. The touch on your shoulder grounds you a bit.

You blink your eyes, rubbing them in an attempt to brush off the dreadful feeling still creeping into the back of your mind. As your eyes adjust to reality, Gwen’s face is filled with concern.

“I’m sorry, guys.” It’s the only thing you manage to say, how could you possibly begin to explain what’s been happening?

“You’ve lost your cue twice now, what’s happening with you today?” The girl presses, still holding onto your shoulder. And for that, you’re grateful. 

Not getting enough sleep has been causing you to lose grip on reality – and that scares you the most. Not being able to tell if the sounds are coming from your head or from somewhere else. Or worse, having to avoid him because it’s unbearable the feeling that eats you from the inside out; the sense of fight or flight kicking in every time you hear his voice. Not tolerating being in his company as shadows follow you around like a ghost, tormenting you into remembering.

And it’s just not fair. 

“Nothing!” You say, adjusting the bass strap on your shoulder. Hesitating on letting you go, Gwen squeezes your arm before retracting her hand. You try to smile, “I’m good. I…I’m good.”

The smile stretched for too long, awkwardly pulling your face into a grin rather than a genuine beam. The avoidance of looking at the member of the band doesn’t really back you up on your lies. You hear Hobie huff in annoyance, while Gwen’s piercing gaze still hasn’t left your face. You feel slightly guilty about keeping your nightmares a secret, but it’s not like they would understand, would they?

After all, Miguel O’Hara was a difficult subject for you to talk about.

“I know that look, I have seen it in the mirror quite a few times,” The girl admits. And you knew it was true.

When Gwen joined the Spider Society just a few months ago, the melancholy gloom that followed her was palpable. The teary eyes whenever someone asked about her life, the avoidance of returning to her world, always crashing at yours or Hobie’s. Her father was a tough subject on which she never really dwelled, too painful to remember.  

However, even if she could relate to the feeling of losing sleep over someone, she wouldn’t understand how it felt to be torn apart by your own brain, to have precious memories distorted in a sick and twisted nightmare that was a culmination of your worst fears. To know it was coming and having no power to stop it. And all the while having the face of the person you cared about the most in the world, in all universes.

No, no one could begin to understand. 

You bit your lips, signing in defeat, “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“That’s rubbish. Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?” Hobie chimes in, crossing his arms over his chest. He raises his eyebrow, seeing through your facade without breaking a sweat.

“You’re not even glowing like you usually do!” Pavitr shouts from the audience, waving his hand toward you. Sometimes he would come by to watch the band practice, but today you had not even seen him coming, which was a terrible sign because Pavitr always made an entrance when he stopped by.

“I thought you would be grateful for that.” You scoff.

“Hey, you can’t blame me! My eyes are sensitive.”

The typical headache starts to pound in your head like a thousand bells ringing directly in your ear. It’s disorientating the way your senses feel out of place – like a fish out of the water. Not even having superpowers was helping you stay afloat. 

You took pride in being a Spider Woman, doing your job as best as you could so that at the end of the day, Miguel would see you. Your talent, your dedication. But lately, you feel yourself falling further down in his list. And it hurts.

“It’s just that–” You sigh, rubbing your eyes again, foolishly trying to make the pain go away. The ache in your head was bad, but the one in your heart could bring you to your knees. “I’m not getting much sleep these last few weeks.”

Gwen snaps her fingers excitedly, “You should try one of those pills they hand over at the–” 

“No!” You shout before you can stop yourself; memories flood your troubled mind. The blood, the screams. Talons ripping flesh, pain consuming your body and soul. But the worst of all; his words. Gwen stops in her tracks, caught off guard by your sudden outburst. The guilty eat you away. 

“I mean, I–I’ve tried it,” You whisper, the lump forming in your throat makes it hard to say a single word, “but they… didn’t work for me.” 

The trembling of your hands caught everyone’s attention. And It’s just too much.

“I’m sorry.” Whispering, you turn around to hide your face. You take the bass strap from your shoulder and place the instrument in its case. “Let’s just wrap this up, I don’t want to waste anyone’s time.”

“Oi, Y/N,” Hobie calls for you, but you’re already grabbing your coat and heading toward the door. “We are here to help you, it’s what a band is about, innit?” 

You look over your shoulder at them, heart aching at the thought of leaving them with no explanation – as a frightened animal, cornered with nowhere to run, all bite and no apologies.

“Right,” You agree but vanish in thin air seconds later.

ll.

Time becomes its own entity when you lose track of it. It’s another late hour, probably somewhere between 3 AM, and the coffee you got from your favorite spot in town is hot against your cold fingers. You dangle your feet at the edge of a building, admiring the view of a sleepy neighbor – no matter the time, New York is always full of light. 

It’s been a few days since you left the rehearsal in a hurry, the band has been trying to get in touch with you but you’ve been avoiding taking their calls and answering their texts – you’ve been avoiding a lot of things lately. 

Like swinging in the middle of the traffic, as an example. Something that came naturally, but now it has become too dangerous. The notion of space and distance have been lost days ago together with the full awareness of your surroundings. You’ve been trying to do your job, but it has become almost impossible to pay attention to your movements when the heaviness of your limbs begs for you to slow down.

There’s also Lyla, who you've lost count of how many times she chimed in while you were working, telling you about a meeting that you had missed out on. Not that it was totally required to be there, but if once you counted the days to be in the same room as Miguel, just so you could see him, now you avoided it like the plague. 

You haven’t heard from him ever since you disappeared – only stopping by the HQ when extremely necessary – so you might not be in that much trouble. However, it definitely did some heavy damage to your heart noticing how O’Hara didn’t really need or wanted to see you in the first place. Not even a call, not even a message.

And that was devastating. 

For too long, you've been yearning for Miguel; only to be trapped in an endless nightmare. While awake, you had to live with the fact that he was out of reach – tearing your soul apart. While sleeping, violence and death had his face – tearing your whole being apart. No matter when or where; you were maimed by the same man.

Blowing out your coffee, you sigh. The lack of sleep has been taking a toll on you. It started off as simply missing the timing from one building to another, and now you can feel the nasty bruise forming on the side of your hip. Actually, your body now looks like it has been painted black and blue with the number of bruises it’s collecting. 

And you still can’t find the answer, nor any clue on how to make them go away. It will kill you eventually, you’re sure of that. It was just a matter of time now. Maybe then you could finally rest.

The bitter taste of the coffee spreads in your tongue and you welcome the caffeine with open arms. You’ve been trying to stay awake for the most part of the day, only hitting the bed when you’re completely and absolutely worn out. It does give you a few more minutes, but as the sun comes down and another moon appears, you can feel yourself slipping away, getting fewer and fewer hours of sleep, and slowly descending to madness as the nightmares start to feel more vivid, clouding your judgment.

Maybe you should ask for help, after all. 

As a result of a very slow mind, it takes you more than it should to sense a new presence on the rooftop with you. Startled, the hair on the back of your neck stands up. You quickly throw away the coffee, lamenting not being able to finish it. 

You pull your mask down; if it was another one of those villains of the week the guy was fucked because you had run out of patience. “Honestly, I’m in a really bad mood today,” You say to whoever is hiding in the shadows, your senses tingling as the figure slowly walks towards you, “No tricks, please. Let’s do this quickly.” 

The movement stops, and you roll your eyes in annoyance. Another guy who thinks that making a scary little entrance will impress you. You’re about to make a joke when the shadow speaks, making your heart stop for a second.

“Y/N.”

The cold creeps in underneath the flesh, freezing your blood and yourself in place. All the hair in your body stands up as your body tenses with trepidation and fear. There it was again, that voice that haunts you night and day. 

No, please. I’m awake, aren't I?”

It was hard to tell, as your surrounding started to blur; the sound of the street and surroundings go silent, as the only focus of your mind is the man in front of you and the way his eyes glow scarlet against the dark of the night. Your heart hammers your chest so furiously you’re afraid it might break free. 

“Y/N.” 

Miguel calls out for you again, his tone nothing more than a whisper. But you have seen this scene before; a hundred times you’ve heard those same words roll out of his tongue as if it disgusted him – as if you didn’t deserve to be mentioned it.

You flinch as he steps forward, memories of talons ripping your skin apart make you fight against the rising panic; the outcome of the nightmare is inevitable, you’ve tried to change it, but the aftermath was always the same; killed by the man you loved the most.

“Stay away from me,” You warned him. It was useless when fate seemed to have your lines already written, with no chance to change the full stop by a coma. “Please, stay away from me.”

Miguel stops, the glowing of his suit hurts your eyes. You can’t see his expression, there’s a dark shadow covering his face, but the red tint gives his demeanor a haunting feeling – another shiver runs down your spine. Your vision starts to blur; the fine line between reality and dreamland crashes together in your mind. Nothing feels real, the foggy state of mind wraps around you, gradually taking over your sanity.

So you flee. Or at least you try. 

Before you could jump from the building, Miguel’s strong hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you directly in his direction. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, and quickly you are able to untangle yourself from his grip, kicking him in the process. 

“Y/N.” You know it’s his voice, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel like it. It’s disconnected from the man you’ve grown to love. Dread gnawed at your insides as the nightmare turns into another torture section. His mouth is moving but you can’t make up the words; every sound gets lost in the loud rush of blood in your ears.

Not that you need it, anyway. You’ve been living the same dialogue over and over again to know like the back of your hand.

“Don’t hurt me again,” You plea, raw panic in your voice. Your mind is erratic, coming up with ideas on how to escape, but your body doesn’t follow the same line of thinking, “Please, I’m so tired.”

But it’s all in vain; the man bolts in your direction like an animal ready to devour its prey. You find yourself half mad with terror – your throat tightens as anxiety eclipsed your thoughts. 

Before Miguel can get to you, you attack. 

It never works as the man is way above your abilities, but you try – anything to be freed from having another slow, painful death. Gathering the last of your strength, you shoot a web that miraculously lands on his foot and it sticks to the ground. Quickly, you jump from one wall to another, landing a kick on his chest. 

It doesn’t do anything more than startle the man, but it gives you enough time to soar across the night sky, landing on another rooftop. The glowing of your watch catches your attention. Usually, you don’t have it with you, nightmares don’t really give you the option to flee. 

But it seems this one does. 

“Y/N!” Miguel roars. In the slip second your eyes had darted toward the gadget, the man had torn apart the single web holding him in place. He huffs, shoulders hunched forward as tension grows between you both. 

Against your better judgment, you shot him a glance. And like magnets, his eyes find yours in mi the sea of lights that only New York could offer.

You press the bottom, eyes fixed on the man coming towards you like a bolt. His talons cut the air in front of your eyes – almost like a kiss – the petrifying realization makes you fall on your back towards the portal. 

Then everything turns black.

lll.

When you open your eyes again, you’re absolutely and awfully exhausted. The weight of your body holds you down against the cold floor, almost as if it didn’t belong to you anymore. You had lost ownership after not taking care of it. Your eyelids are heavy, and for a moment you consider just going back to sleep, finally giving in to the sweet taste of relief. 

But then, the warnings in the back of your mind start to go off, and you remember why you can’t. Grunting, you take off your mask and pick yourself up. There was no rest for you, not until you find out what the hell happened. And if it was all in your mind, of if Miguel was there. 

Because that definitely didn’t feel like a dream. The phantom feeling of his fingers wrapped around your wrist still lingered, and the intensity of his gaze still made you shrink. A chill runs down your spine in trepidation. If he was really there were the nightmares just a premonition of the future?

No. Miguel would never do that. 

Even though he didn’t… like you as you liked him, the man didn’t have a single motive to want you dead. Miguel was many things, but mostly he was righteous. Dedicated to his job in an unhealthy, and obsessive way? Yes. However, he still had kindness hidden underneath his scowl, and even though his heart was mostly painted black by the loss of his old life, it still beat for the new ones the Spider Society protected. Besides, he still had some humor in him; a completely dated and cringe type of humor, but there.

And every time it made an appearance, you would find it adorable. A tiny smile appears on your lips. How could you not treasure every moment with him when it was all so rare? 

“Y/N?” Someone calls for you in the distance. You are still picking yourself up from the floor, the sudden movement makes you dizzy, and nauseous. You’re pretty sure you hit your head. 

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” Margo comes into view, she quickly puts one of your arms around her neck and helps you get up. “You look terrible.”

“You should see the other guy,” You try joking around. And even though the blue avatar softly huffs, her expression of concern is serious. You must look worse than you thought. 

Margo helps you get into a chair, gently holding you until you’re comfortable in your seat. “I’m sorry for barging in, I honestly didn’t know where I was going.”

“Where you running from something?” She jokingly asks. She grabs a tablet, reads something on the screen, and goes back to work.

“Yeah,” You groan, running your hand through your hair, “You could say that.”

The room was as quiet as it always was, the only sound coming from the girl who was softly humming a song. Looking around, you notice there was no one around, only the machines as a company. You wondered if Margo ever feel lonely here; the place was big enough to fit a few dozen Spiders, however, it was always deserted. The truth was that no one actually liked to be around villains after they were captured, and sending them home was a dreadful job. Margo was definitely a viable asset to the team. 

You can feel your senses start to relax, the darkroom was a perfect invitation for a well-deserved rest. But with the sleepiness came the loss of concentration, and the last time you let your guard down, you fled from a very real Miguel. 

Small talk would be, then. “So… who’s next?”

Margo picks up her tablet, tapping a few things before showing you a picture. “She calls herself 'Torment'. But you’re probably familiar with her. After all, you and Hobie caught her a few weeks ago.”

Wait. A few weeks ago? That's exactly the time when the nightmares started to occur.

Suddenly, a flashback hits you like a bullet. A purple and blue cloud, the touch of a finger. The laugh.

“Margo, I need to talk to her,” You demand, getting up from your chair as if you had been electrified. The pieces fall into place and make a clear picture. How could you have let this fly over your head? Of course, the nightmares weren’t something normal! It had to be a product of something, or someone. 

“Y/N, I need to send her ho–”

“It’s urgent,” Holding the girl’s hand in yours, you squeeze them in a silent plea, “Please, Margo. Just give me 5 minutes.”

Margo presses her lips together; you must look desperate because she sighs, defeated. Then nods, “Make it quick.” 

“Thank you.” 

-

The Send Home Machine had come out of its cocoon, and now sat atop a circular base; waiting for the command to start the process of pulling the strings to weave the portal back home. You always thought the whole mechanism was a bit too much, but if it worked, then who were you to complain?

Margo brings Torment in, and she immediately recognizes you. 

“Oh, I knew I would see you again!” The woman’s face lights up like a Christmas tree – that couldn't be a good sign. She claps her hands, bouncing on her feet. “Looking for answers, darling?”

A cold shiver runs down your spine, but it’s not fear that spreads through your veins. It’s anger. “What did you do to me?”

The woman laughs, throwing her head back. You can clearly see she was having too much fun with you. “Now you’re interested in what I’ve to say? You didn’t seem that excited when I first came to you and your little friend.”

Your blood boils. If she wasn’t already locked up and ready to be sent home, you would definitely teach her a lesson or two. Your knuckles go white as the woman stares, the smile on her face is disturbing. How could she find pleasure in tormenting someone like that?

The sound of the engine turning startles you, Margo sends you an apologetic look as the machine descends from its place atop the base. You’re getting out of time.

“What do you want?” You shout, desperate. You can’t imagine going another week, another day haunted like this. “Tell me!”

Torment’s stare is piercing, a shadow crosses her face when the smile fades into a thin line. The silence was agonizing, and with each tread of the web, you felt your sanity slipping away. This was your last chance.

“I’m so fucking tired!” You cry out, hitting the glass so hard it almost cracks. “Do you know how it feels to not get a single hour of sleep because your nightmares are too fucking real? Do you have a single idea of how torturing it is to have him, of all people–” Margo was listening, but you didn’t care. You wanted answers and you would get them. “Why him?”

“Poor little thing. You haven’t figured it out yet?” she hums, furrowing her eyebrows. And you hate the look of pity she has on her face. It was her that did this in the first place! “That must be tough, to keep all of that to yourself.”

No one knew about your feelings for Miguel. Well, you had a slight hunch that maybe Peter B. Parker might have noticed it. But otherwise, you kept all to yourself. Treasuring little moments as precious jewelry.

He was your boss! And besides, he was still too caught up in his late family. He would never open his heart again after the tragedy bestowed upon him. You couldn't blame him; a man forever stuck in the past, reliving each moment when he was happy.

However, sometimes, you would catch him looking. Exchange glances in a crowded room; during meetings. You would spend time with him alone; in a comfortable silence hard to find, or in an easy-going atmosphere that left you smiling like an idiot. 

But that was what they were, fleeting moments. And even though sometimes you dreamed about a future where you could give him all the love he deserved, they were just that; silly dreams. There was no space for you in his life. You had accepted that long ago.

“You see, my abilities are a gift,” Torment simply says, still unphased at your suffering. “They search deep in your soul for what you seek the most. The nightmares are just an incentive to make you finally take the big step.”

“What?” A memory comes to the forefront of your mind; a finger touching your forehead, the slight shock that sent you back a few steps. Miguel’s face appears right after the electric feeling dissipates. “What do you mean?”

“You know very well,” There’s some sort of twisted kindness when her smile appears again, it irks you profoundly, “Take care, darling. You can thank me later.”

The machine finishes threading the web, encapsulating the woman inside a honey-colored web. The last thing you see is her waving at you before disappearing into nothing.

Outraged, you punch the glass again, and again. No, no, no. This can’t be happening! That woman must be lying, there’s no way the cure to this torment is–

“Calm down, Y/N!” Margo holds your wrist before you can land another hit. She’s saying something but you can’t hear it. Anxiety takes over your body as you crouch on the floor, hiding your face in your arms. 

You will have to tell Miguel. 

And that was worse than any other nightmare. 

[maximumkillshot]

"I Can't Lose You" Part 3

Warnings: This one is bad... Like bad bad. Uhm so please pay attention to these warnings. *Brings out a scroll with a solemn face.* Descriptions of Blood, Emergency medical procedure explainations, Shock, Grief, Chan gets shoved once, (IF YOU WANT NO SPOILERS AND KNOW YOU CAN HANDLE THE FIC CONTINUE) Child Loss, Descriptions of miscarriage.

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader

Characters: OC Doctor, Stray Kids, Reader

A/N: I know the cut is very high up but I needed to be sure that it wouldn't trigger someone would get triggered by the story. I am so sorry I am doing this to y'all. But here we are. Enjoy getting your heart ripped out? I guess. IF YOU WANT MORE TELL ME!

Also remember, this is a fan fic. All of the boys are so sweet IRL.

Stray Kids! Masterlist

Overall Masterlist

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE. 

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

Previously:

You looked at Bin and Han and begged them to stay. Both of them looked at the doctor and said that whatever was happening, they weren't leaving. The doctor could see that you really needed them and as long as they were not in the way, it didn’t matter whether they were here or not. 

After the nerve block and the procedure, the doctor cleaned you up and draped a warm blanket over you, while the nurses hooked up a transfusion and closely monitored you. The doctor asked for Bin in the hall while Han went right back to your hand without the IV in it, so he could hold it properly.

Bin tried to ignore it during the procedure but the look that the doctor had on his face when he was doing the preliminary exam was haunting. Whatever he was called out here for… it wasn’t good.

NOW:

Once both Bin and the Doctor were in the hall and closed the sliding door separating you from the bustling main hallway, Bin got that feeling again. That sick feeling that something was wrong. The doctor looked like he was trying to stay professional. 

It was then that Bin noticed the doctor's wedding ring. He wondered to himself if the doctor was like Bin. So deep in love that seeing anyone else doesn’t just feel blasphemous, but it’s so out of the question it’s nauseating. The doctor began.

“Are you her husband?” He asked.

“No…” Bin replied. He could feel the bile rising in his throat with that one question. He immediately thought, If I was this never would’ve happened.

“Are you family?” The doctor looked at him.

“Yes. Are they okay?” Bin looked at the doctor.

“She lost a lot of blood, through something called a hemorrhage. It’s a rare complication especially this early on. She wouldn’t have made it if this happened at home. But it’s under control now.” the doctor said. He seemed to be trying to be as sympathetic as possible, making the next question sting more.

“Okay, and the baby?” Bin asked as he was trying to hold on to the possibility, some shred of hope that you and the baby were okay. He didn’t want the answer to be…

“I’m sorry.” The doctor slowly shook his head as he bowed his head slightly. The doctor looked guilty, like this was the worst part of his job, not being able to save someone. 

“How? Why?” Bin asked as it felt like his heart twisted. He didn’t know how you were going to get through this. He knew you too well. He knew that the pain you were about to feel, the emotional pain, would spell your demise... Bin couldn’t wouldn’t let that happen. 

“There is a cause-and-effect relationship that stress, extreme traumatic stress, like what you described, can cause a mis--” “Please don’t finish that word.” Bin pleaded with tears in his eyes. That word. He’s never hated a word in his life, until now. A word like that, even the word Death is kinder. To die you need to have lived in the first place, breathe air, feel emotions, like happiness, fear, love… None of those things happened for your child, through no fault of their mother. The same woman he’s staring at, the very same woman he always stared at. 

“The fact that she went through the shock as well as the prolonged stress after that shock, and didn’t have any previous symptoms of that happening prior to that, rules out all of the other options.” he paused and looked at his ring. Bin could tell what he was thinking, the doctor’s jaw tight, I could never dream of doing that, then continued, “You know her better than I do. Will she need something to calm her down?”

“Yes… but I don’t think she’ll accept it.” Bin looked back at you and Han. You looked so out of it. Like you were and were not there simultaneously. He has never seen you like this. From what he could see it looked like Han was doing his best to distract you. He was playing with your fingers as he joked. 

It was convincing enough to relax you, but Bin knew better. His eyes are always so expressive, if he's genuinely relaxed, his eyes show it. Bin could tell that Han was many things at this point in time, and worry free was not one of them. 

“Would you like to tell her?” the doctor asked. That question made Bin think a little bit. If he did tell you, he didn't know if you'd believe him. It's easier to ignore reality when the person breaking the news isn't a doctor. You'd accept it if it came from the doctor. 

“She’ll believe it if you say it… Just have the medicine on standby. Also, what do we do to help her? What’s next?” He asked.

“Well like I said her bleeding was extensive... I want to keep her for at least a full 24 hours, in case the bleeding starts again. I’ll also arrange for her to meet with the OBGYN during that time as well, to make sure we got all of the tissue out, that way there’s no chance of another hemorrhage or infection. Sounds like a plan?” The doctor asked.

“Yes… thank you." Bin took a deep breath before he went in, the doctor trailing behind him. 

The doctor closed the sliding door as Bin looked at you, then at Han briefly. He lowered the guardrail and made eye contact with Han, who mirrored his actions shortly after. 

“Mrs. Y/L/N” the doctor began but you cut him off. 

“My baby. Please tell me my baby’s okay… please,” the urgency written on your face. 

Han's eyes were set on Changbin. The minute you asked that question, Bin lowered his head, jaw tight, and tears were already beginning to form. When Bin looked at Han, he already knew. 

The doctor looked at you and said “I...I’m so sorry.” 

Your face showed nothing but confusion… you had just gotten the first ultrasound. You had it done a week ago. No, you saw your baby.

“Y/N” Bin asked gently. He saw the look on your face, and it killed him. Seeing your brain reach for any other outcome other than the one right in your face. He tucked some stray strands of hair behind your ear as he watched and waited for the understanding to reach your face, it didn’t.

“No, it can’t be, I just got the ultrasound done. No,” you replied.

Han and Bin looked at each other. Han's eyebrows dipped, as he processed and tried to brace for impact. Bin on the other hand, was willing himself to take a step back, knowing that you needed to hear this. It had to get through, that's the only way you could start healing. 

The doctor looked solemn as he said, “Mrs. Y/L/N I could tell that you were and still are contracting. The reason why your body is doing it, from what I can discern, is because your body went through extreme stress and emotional trauma, when that happens this early, your body rejects the pregnancy. That does not mean that this is your fault, it's the opposite. It’s completely out of your control.”

Bin could see the cogs turning in your brain as you slowly started shaking your head. Reality starting to seep in. Bin wished that you didn't have to go through this. That you got the fairytale ending without the heartbreak. That you didn't have to face the death of your own child. That pain, anguish, and suffering. 

The doctor continued, “There is an even rarer condition in which the body rejecting the pregnancy ends in a condition called a hemorrhage. It’s a technical term for excessive bleeding, in this case, it happened because your body is trying to expel the tissues in your cervix. Because it was so sudden, your cervix didn’t have time to open. When I examined you, you weren’t even at half a centimeter dilation, and all of that tissue was trying to be expelled. That was why I had to do that procedure, to get the tissue out so bleeding could be minimized. I’m so sorry… but you had a miscarriage.”

Once that word was said the scream that you let out was something that Han nor Bin have ever heard in their lives. It was soul-crushing. Both of them could hear your heart breaking, shattered on the ground. Bin and Han wanted nothing more than to pick up those pieces and fix it. They knew that they couldn't, this is a hurt they can't fix.

Han held you as you screamed, begged, pleaded… You looked at Bin. “Bin please, look at me. Please tell me it's not true… Please you don’t lie to me, I know you'll tell the truth pleeease.”

Bin looked at you, “I can’t tell you it’s not true. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” The look of devastation on his face only sealed the fact. Bin has never lied to you so why would he start now? Especially with something as serious as whether or not you had a miscarriage. 

The look that painted his face, brows upturned as his eye contact was nothing short of empathetic. You could tell he wanted to lie. 

He wanted it to be false, that it was just some freak minor bleeding… that the baby was okay…he wanted it so badly… but you can't want something into existence. 

That realization hit you in a split second as the monitors that were connected to you, measuring vitals, started going off. You could feel nothing but pain. The involuntary gnawing, pulling pain. The blood, the cold from lack of blood in your body…The physical agony was nothing compared to what you felt in that split second. 

Your heart rate was literally too fast for you to register, pain surging through you as comprehension slammed into you like a tsunami. The baby is gone. Your baby. Your heart rate was through the roof and the doctor went to your IV.

“Y/N I’m going to give you something to calm you down okay? Your heart can’t take this stress, it’ll give out.” The doctor pushed the medication. 

“I want my baby…Bin I want my baby… Han please, my baby.” You sobbed as you held on to Han. 

All Bin could do was say, “I know you do, I’m so sorry. I’m here. I’m sorry.”

Han got on the gurney with you and cradled you. He cried with you. Prayed that it was just a nightmare. Han looked to Bin, only to find him trying to fight the tears that were falling down his face. Bin's soul was hurting for you, bargaining with whatever powers out there, to give himself up for you and your child. He knew it was irrational but if he could've, he would've. 

As soon as the medicine kicked in your breathing started to slow. You still whimpered and cringed as you felt your body bearing down, still shaking slightly and cold to the touch. Han draped his jacket over you, resting you against his chest, singing to you, to calm you. 

Every once in a while reality would crash into you again, you’d reach for Bin. You knew why you did, he was always there. He always understood you on a deeper level. Sometimes he knew what you needed when you didn’t even know you needed it. 

Eventually he pulled up a chair and laid his head on his forearm, hand in yours and close to his lips. as he gently rubbed circles into your hand with his thumb. As soon as you’d squeeze that hand he’d squeeze back as he nuzzled into your hand. His way of letting you know that yes, this is the reality, but he is still here. Wordlessly, endlessly, he’d be here. Sometimes you’d comb your fingers through his hair, the feeling somewhat comforting.  

You were so tired it went down to your bones. Sometimes only mustering a long blink at the pain. Eventually your vitals started looking good enough to transport.

The doctor came in with solemn reverence, like he was intruding on a funeral.“Y/N, we’re going to keep you overnight at the least, you’re going to have a visit from the OBGYN in the morning, okay? We have your bed ready so soon someone’s going to come to transport you.”

You just looked up at the doctor and nodded, “T-thank you” you hiccupped, “Hannie and Binnie are staying with me.”

“I’ve already put a cot in the room for them. I wish I could’ve done more,” he said with a sad smile. Bin got up and shook his hand, thanking him.

As soon as the transport nurses came to get you Bin said “I’ll see you in a bit. I just need to do something really quick.” you nodded and Bin kissed your forehead. He had to go back to the house. He didn’t know why immediately, just that he had to. 

He was on autopilot the entire ride to the house, except for the red lights.  He didn’t need to be strong at those lights. He’d scream where no one could hear him. Letting the pain out as images of you flashed. Smiling, then flashing to the scream you let out. Laughing, then sobbing in that hospital gurney. Cooking with him, to crying on Han. 

His screams were from mourning, pain, and frustration. He mourned the baby and you. The pain for you, the pain of realizing all of the things that you won’t experience. The frustration of not being able to see it before. To protect you, guard you. He wanted to rip something… someone… apart. There. That was the impulse that drove him back to the house.

At the last red light, he breathed deep, not even wanting to. He used whatever force that was left over as he screamed one last time. Everything he did, your child would never experience. Every scream echoed, redoubling the anguish he had for the both of you. Culminating into this, silence as he turned the corner to the house.

To his surprise, all of the other member’s cars were still at the house when he pulled up. When he parked, he looked at the clock on his dashboard, it was 2 a.m. Had it been 6 hours already? 

He felt his adrenaline kick up as he opened the door. He found everyone still wide awake, waiting for answers, but one look at Bin and they gathered what they needed.

Chan walked into the room from the kitchen and his jaw dropped upon seeing him.

“Bin…what happened?” Felix asked gently, hand’s slightly raised, as if approaching a wild animal. The aura on Bin wasn’t his aloof, goofy, self, it was the opposite; dark, threatening, dangerous. Bin’s eyes were trained on Chan, the closer he got, the more Bin felt his resolve slipping… Chan looked at him up and down, concern and horror written on his face. It was only then that Bin noticed he was covered in your blood.

His resolved snapped at that realization, upper lip ticking into a repressed snarl as he breathed “I’m… going to kill you.” He made a B-line to Chan. Felix, Minho, and Jeongin had to hold him back. 

Once Bin realized he couldn’t get to Chan, he screamed, “Was it worth it?! HUH?!!” His veins were popping out under his skin as he struggled to get free, “Was it?! Tell me! You hurt and nearly killed the only person I’ve ever loved. She’s dead inside now, all thanks to you!” More flashes accompanied that sentence, him picking you up and watching you go limp, eyes fluttering.

Felix looked at Bin and said, “What?... Hyung..” Felix's voice trailed off, trying to process what he heard. Felix knew that if he heard Bin correctly…he couldn’t even complete that thought.

Bin’s eyes snapped to Felix and he relaxed to the point where all three let go.

“The doctor said that because of the severe stress and emotional trauma she endured her body rejected the pregnancy.” He bum-rushed Chan and slammed him against the wall, while everyone was either in shock or processing. Felix was the first and only one to try to get Bin off Chan. Changbin was just too strong for the younger man, he ignored Felix as he tried wordlessly to pry Bin away from Chan. 

Bin continued staring into Chan's eyes, “The miscarriage was so sudden, in fact, that she hemorrhaged and almost bled to death because her cervix couldn’t open on its own in time. They had to scrape the tissue out just to stop it from killing her! And she looked at me to see if it was really true because I don’t LIE to her. Then they had to sedate her because her heart was going to give out when she realized that it was true.”

At this point Bin tightened his grip on Chan, “You are lucky that she asked for me to stay with her… If not I would kill you, right here. You are going to stay AWAY until or even IF she ever wants to see you again. I mean it Chan, if you come near her, I will end you. It’s not a threat, it’s a promise.” With that, he dropped Chan and went to the washroom. He washed off as much blood as he could and went to his room to change into spare clothes. He wanted to destroy everything in his room. His keepsakes, his picture frames of the boys all together. There was only one picture frame that he did smash to dust before he left his room… the one of himself and Chan, on Chan’s wedding day. He picked up his bloody clothes, stalked back out to Chan, and threw the clothing at him. 

He was shaking with rage as he said, “To YOU… this could’ve been a game or a thrill, fucking with her heart. But THAT!” he pointed to the clothing, “that is the reality. A child is dead, your child and it almost killed Y/N too. Next time you want to contact her, look at what you did to both of them while you do it.”

Before Chan could say anything Bin was slamming the door shut behind him with such force that the wall itself vibrated. Right as he made it to his car Felix ran to him. “Can I go with you?” he asked.

“I’m not leaving the hospital for the whole night, you know that, right?” 

Felix nodded and got into the passenger seat. The whole ride over Felix couldn’t help but to stare at Bin. He has never seen him like this. So enraged that he was three seconds away from crushing Chris’ windpipe. 

He also noted how Bin didn’t seem to know that he was covered in blood until Chris looked at him. Even now he could see Bin’s grip on the steering wheel was so strong his knuckles were white. He didn’t know exactly what happened in those four hours they weren’t given updates, and Felix knows just by seeing Bin, he never wants to find out. 

As soon as Bin entered your hospital room he heard you say “Binnie?”

Honestly, he could melt every time you call him that.

“I’m back…” he chuckled slightly… “And I brought some sunshine with me…”

The minute he looked into your eyes, you smiled just a little. That was progress. He kissed your forehead as Felix looked you over. 

Felix is like your little brother, so the minute you saw him and he saw you, you both started crying. Han got off the bed knowing Lix would want to be with you for a bit, for both of your sakes. 

This gave Han and Bin time to talk out in the hall.

“How’re her contractions?” Bin asked.

“They’re slower but still strong. The doctor says that it’ll be strong for at least 5 to 10 hours.” Han reported.

“And you? How’re you doing?” Bin asked. He knows Han has anxiety, seeing all of this and being as strong as he’s been is not easy. 

“I’m… Out of all people, Bin.” Han shook his head. Han has known Chan the longest and he would’ve never expected him to do this. 

“I know”

“Please tell me you didn’t hit him.” Han said.

“Nah… She needs me more than I need to beat him to a pulp… I don’t think he’ll be bothering her anymore though.” That’s at least what Bin hopes. Everything is so raw. A little over 8 hours before this you were at a restaurant to celebrate your 3rd anniversary. Now everything was all wrong, a nightmare incarnate and no one can wake up from reality. 

“Hyung… She can’t go back to that house.” Han said as he took a deep breath.

“I know. All I know is that we'll do what she’s comfortable with.”

“Agreed…Bin?” Han asked.

“Yeah?”

“It should’ve been you with her. From the beginning.” Han looked to Bin, a look of understanding and empathy for Bin. Han could always see the way Bin looked at you when no one else was looking. Everything you said would be committed to his memory, even the smallest things like which brand of sesame oil you like best for your bulgogi marinade. 

“I know. That doesn’t mean that I can’t be here for her from now on.”

Han just smiled and both of them went back into the room. 

********************************************************************

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[oleander-nin]

Horrortober Day 24- Taken(Yandere Rise Leo x Reader)

A/N, not important: My birthday's in 8 days lol. This doesn't have anything to do with the fic, but I'm really excited because I get to take the day off and it's literally the day after Halloween. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: needles, kidnapping, me trying to write Leo differently, dark themes, yandere themes.

Words: 2017

Summary: Leo's heart's in the right place. It always was.

You shift in the chair you were tied to, familiar wooden structure being the same one used for Casey just a few months before. You never imagined yourself in it, especially not tied down. Your head was still spinning from the hard drugs going through your system, the sleep refusing to leave your mind as you fight to stay conscious even now. Leo stands in front of you, his shell against the door of his room. His eyes are cautious, a smile on his face that’s hiding the nervousness in his posture. Neither of you had spoken since you awoke, your mind too hazy to fully understand what was going on.

You try to move your arms again, looking surprised when they don’t come up. The rope dug into your skin, the ties much tighter than necessary to keep you still. Your lidded eyes turn back to Leo, your mouth opening then closing again as you try to speak.

“Why am I here?” You mumble out, your voice heavy and slurred. Leo taps his foot on the ground, not wanting to answer immediately. He seemed unsure, like he was still trying to justify to himself why you, his best friend, was tied to a chair in his room. You let your head fall back against the small bit of wall Leo was able to push you against, your eyes closing again as you try to convince the sleepy feeling to fade. The haze in your mind was slowly dissipating, but it was taking too long for your liking.

“You got hurt.” Leo finally answers, making your head perk up to look at him. You blink slowly at him, trying to decipher what he meant. You look down at your legs, seeing the dark bruises still papered over them like a toddlers attempt at painting. Each one was mottled and ugly, dark stains upon your skin. In this moment, you could barely remember where they had come from, only small instances of people crying your name coming to mind. You look back up at Leo, still uncertain how the bruises tainting your legs(and your arms from the feel of it) contributed to you being here.

Leo seems to understand the look of confusion you shoot him, his soft smile turning into a reserved frown. He taps the floor with his foot for a minute, the cogs behind his eyes turning as he comes up with a way to explain his reasoning while keeping you calm.

“You almost died yesterday,” Leo starts, his voice pained. He pushes off the wall and walks towards you, sinking to his knees as his hands rest on yours. You feel him rub the exposed skin of the back of your hand, your glassy eyes, staring down as you try to remember what he was talking about. Yesterday was a blur to you, only faint words and pain being the placeholders for that day in your mind. Leo swallows, his hands squeezing yours. “I’m not going to risk losing you like that ever again. So you’re staying here.”

Leo’s lips pull back into a small smile, ignoring your stunned face. “It’ll be fun! Like, a permanent sleepover. I’ll teach you how to properly skate, you can have whatever side of the bed you like, and you’ll get to eat Mikey’s great cooking every day. It’s not so bad.”

You stay quiet, just staring down at Leo as his smile slowly drops again, his brow line scrunched in worry. One of his hands moves to cup your face, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek while he softly coos at you. You weren’t sure how to feel about this, half of you feeling it to be a cruel prank while the other… His eyes were too genuine to be fibbing, and he’d never do something like this as a prank. Not to you.

“Leo?” You mumble, blinking slowly at him as the fog slowly starts to seep out of your brain. Something was wrong. Everything was wrong. Leo’s touch burned rather than comforted, but you couldn’t even move away. “What’s going on? I don’t like this.”

Leo lets out a slow breath, still rubbing your face. He looked agitated at your words, but was still holding a soft patience for you. You couldn’t help but be upset, knowing he was treating you like a helpless child. “I know. I know, but you have to listen to me. I’m… You don’t get a choice in this. I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”

Leo’s face is one of pity, like this really was something he felt was a hard but necessary thing to do. You move in the chair, hissing as the fibers of the rope dig into your skin. Leo frowns, moving from a kneel to a bowed stand as he steadies your shoulders to get you to be still. Your face scrunches up into hurt and fear as the situation starts to weigh down on you, your eyes glistening with panicked tears that weren’t ready to fall.

"How can you do this to me? I thought you were my friend!" You say, your breathing getting more and more panicked as you struggle. This was insane, Leo was insane. 

Leo frowns, his hands cupping yours as he forces you to be still from the shock of the sudden touch. His eyes bore into yours, his determined gaze unyielding. “We are friends. I’m doing this for you. Don’t you know how much I love you? How much I care?”

You whine and look away, not liking how pathetic you felt in the moment. Your brain searches for something to say, for something to get him to drop the act and let you go.

"What if someone did this to Mikey?"

Leo scoffs, a near laugh coming from his mouth as his head tilts back. He’s grinning one more, finding you amusing. You felt sick with how much it reminded you of just last week, back when you didn’t even know this was brewing just under the surface. Leo lets his grin spread lazily across his face, his posture more relaxed while he continues to caress your cheeks like he was in a trance. "Mikey would never be in this situation. Plus, if he was, he’d escape and then we’d kill whoever tried." 

"So you admit this is wrong?" I point out, hoping he would now realize how hypocritical he was being.

Leo chuckles again, squashing your wishful thinking. He lets go of your face once more, pushing up on his knees as he stands up. “Nope! I know what I’m doing. Plus, you’re here because I love and care for you, not because I want to do something bad to you. You’re safe here.”

You stay quiet, staring at him in disbelief. He was deluded, so far into his own world of wants that he doesn’t even realize his own injustice. You thickly swallow, trying to keep calm. It was Leo, Leo was reasonable. You just had to reason out of this. “But what about my family? My life? School, work, and everything I’ve been doing since, well, forever? I can’t just leave all of that behind.”

Leo scowls, rolling his eyes. He sits on his bed, starting to take off his arm and leg wrappings. “You don’t need any of that anymore. You have me. You love staying here, I’ve heard you talking to April on how much you hate school and wished you could stay with us anyways.”

Leo looks over at you with a smug grin, feeling proud of having you here with him. You don’t meet his eyes, the situation fully weighing down on you as your breathing stops for a moment. “I just went ahead and made the decision for you.”

You stay quiet. With Leo’s words and his pattern of stubbornness, you knew you weren’t getting out of this without a fight. With a shaky breath, you try again, hoping maybe you could bypass his heart and get to his brain. You just wanted to go home. “I can’t stay here, Leo. What’s Splinter going to say? Your brothers. They won’t let you keep me here against my will.”

Leo chews on his cheek, unsure how to answer. He meets your eyes, pained at the fear and worry that swells through them, but he doesn't crack. This was for you, and he would stand by that until he died. Everything was for you. “They won’t be a problem.”

Your mind instantly goes to the worst, your face falling as you gape at him. Your mouth flaps a couple times, the rope around your chest seeming to constrict even more of your breath. Your voice is airy, fear being the only thing that pushes it out. You couldn’t fathom him hurting his family, but his words didn’t give the mind much to work on other than that. “What did you do to them?”

Leo looks surprised at the question, then his face hardens. “Do you think I’d hurt my family? Is that what you think of me?”

Leo scowls, getting off the bed and heading over to a small desk with a tray of medicine and needles balanced on top of it. Your face blanches at the sight of the needles, your hands shaking as you sink into yourself as much as you can. Leo glances at you, noticing your growing anxiety, but says nothing. The smile on his face makes your heart freeze, suddenly realizing he was enjoying this. Your fear, your worry, the panic coursing through your veins. All of it was feeding into his delusion of you being the helpless darling for him to save.

Leo sticks the syringe into a small glass, sucking up whatever liquid it contained. Despite your shaking and fear, you couldn’t look away. All focus was stuck on the thing you feared, the glint of the needle making your heart hammer against your ribs. Leo continues on, not seeming to mind you panic. His gaze flickers to you for a moment, a soft smile forming that you assumed was meant to be comforting. “Sorry about this, I know you hate needles. But I really don’t want to argue the rest of the night, and pills take thirty minutes to kick in. I’ll be quick, I promise.” 

He sets the vial back on the tray, the needle loose in his hands as he walks over to you. You start to scream, completely hysterical while you rock the stationary chair. Pure adrenaline rushes through your veins, unable to calm yourself down from the one thing you knew Leo was aware you were scared of. You were certain he was doing this on purpose, his satisfied smile making you sob while he rolled you your sleeve and cleaned a small patch on your arm with an alcohol wipe.

His hand wraps around your bicep, keeping you from jerking away while he carefully inserts the needle into your arm. Your mind reels, focused completely on the needle and the intrusion in your skin as you bawl. Leo finishes the injection and puts a bandaid on your arm, smiling cheekily at you despite the trust and boundaries he just stomped on. You don’t look at him, slumping in the chair while your sobs wrack your body. He calmly stands up, crossing the room while setting the syringe back onto the tray and disposing of the needle in a small red box.

Your vision swims, the room fading and your cries quieting. Leo breathes out in relief, glad to see you calming down. He watches you fight the drug, knowing you’d succumb to it soon enough. You were so much easier to talk to when you couldn’t think. “Goodnight dear, we’ll try again when you’re calmer.”

His voice echoes through your head as you go limp, the world disappearing and mind sinking through the floor of your head. Your cries cease and Leo’s left with your sleeping self once more, his mind already coming up with a million different ways to convince you of your place by his side.

[neos127]

WHY HER? - SIM JAEYUN (chapter nine)

pairing. idol!jake x fem!fan!reader synopsis. in the most cliche way, jake falls for a fan of his. y/n just has to decide if she’s able to handle being apart of his life. notes. includes a written portion!

. . .

Y/N shakily clicked on the ‘accept’ button of Jake’s face-time call. Quickly fixing her hair and setting the phone to a decent angle. Jake smiled once she picked up, his expression soon dropping after seeing her pout.

“You wanna tell me why you’re so afraid of getting close to me?” Jake spoke up, already starting the conversation Y/N had been dreading. The girl took a deep breath and closed her eyes, looking out her window to avoid eye contact.

“I just can’t believe that you have feelings for me, no other boy has ever shown this much interest in me.” Y/N admitted, nervously playing with her nails.

“Listen…it scares me too. I took a big chance with getting to know you but I don’t regret it one bit. You have such an amazing personality and that’s what sets you apart from everyone else. That’s why I like you so much.” Jake explained, making Y/N suck in a breath, her stomach twisting more and more.

“It’s just…imagining relationships is fun, it makes me giddy to think about that type of stuff. Even reading it and watching it in movies…but when it’s real, it becomes too real. I’d be putting myself in a vulnerable position and I’m afraid to get hurt. I know it’s stupid and inevitable, but that’s just how I feel.” Y/N explained, watching as Jake mulled over her words.

“Thank you for being honest with me, I understand how you feel. And I promise I won’t break your heart, Y/N. I couldn’t even think about doing that. You’re way too important to me.” Jake replied, his lips turning down into a frown when he saw a tear slip down her face. She quickly wiped it, sniffling a bit.

“And what about your career?” She asked softly. Jake’s eyes diverted from her face for a moment, letting out a small sigh.

“Well, we can try to hide our relationship for as long as we can. As long as my managers know they won’t mind helping us out. And just know that whatever anyone says about you, it isn’t true. They can’t be a real fan if they don’t support me.” Jake explained, trying to reassure Y/N. She nodded absentmindedly, really thinking about the consequences. It wasn’t going to be easy, Y/N was sure of it, but the soft gaze in Jake’s eyes was enough to sway her.

“Let’s do it then…before I projectile vomit everywhere.” Y/N chuckled, wiping the remaining tears from her eyes. Despite how terrified she felt, she was still happy to know that he was just as into her as she was.

“Damn…sounds like you don’t like me that much.” Jake teased, a smile appearing on his face.

“Ugh please, I like you so much it hurts. It’s honestly kind of unfair how sweet and cute you are, I never stood a chance.” Y/N groaned, hiding behind her hands at the confession. Jake felt flustered, still not used to her complimenting him.

“Honestly, that’s how I feel about you. As soon as I saw your smile, I was done for.” Jake replied, the blush on his face was very obvious. Y/N bit back a smile, trying to hide her flustered state by looking out her window again.

“So- where do we go from here?” Y/N asked, still feeling a bit awkward about their conversation.

Um…i’ll ask you to be mine properly when I get back, I promise. I’m willing to make this work if you are.” Jake said, smiling at Y/N. Just the sight of her face was enough to make him giddy and he couldn’t wait to get back home and have her in his arms.

“Yeah, I am too.

previous | masterlist | next

taglist. @junityy @super-amberlynn @jvjsssnaa @dreamiesformula @deepdeancloudspy @syazzzlisa @nnana2 @hkkbrosdienagge @iheartjayke @armydrcamers @yeojeolmi @yelshin @yunville @4xiaojun @ivyvioletcarson @seunnimg @ramenoil @desistay @mandoscyare @nikiswifereal27 @mitchii @miumiuisme @eternallyhyucks @bgomtori @woninluv @theyluvfrankocean @iilwji @herebyaccident0 @geombyu @vixensss @younjo @oldjws @moon4moony @kimsunoops

©neos127

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Capitol Punishment XIII

Haymitch x Reader

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, rape, alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts, swearing, illness, pregnancy, miscarriage, torture, sexual torture, medical stuff

Word Count: 3.7K

Part XII | Masterlist | Part XIV

A/N There will be medical stuff explained. I’m not a doctor so just pretend it makes sense

You felt like you had woken up in a strange environment 20 times in the last day and a half and you hoped this would be the last time you woke up like this.

As your eyes peeled open you were greeted with a harsh hospital light. You could feel someone holding your hand at your side. Turning your head you found Haymitch clasping your hand, head resting on the bed as he dozed off. You felt a smile tug at your lips seeing him so peaceful. You tried to reach over to stroke his hair with your free hand but whatever the doctors had done to you wouldn’t allow that as your abdomen cramped.

You returned to your previous position flat on your back with a hiss, stirring Haymitch. Which was impressive considering how deeply he used to sleep even when it wasn’t due him blacking out. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” he asked frantically, eyes moving around erratically searching for the cause of your pain.

“I’m fine,” you tried to calm him down. “Just a little sore from the surgery. Do you know what they did?”

“Just that they had to fix some internal bleeding. They said the doctor would be in to update us when you woke up,” he explained. He brushed some fingers through your hair. “God I’m so glad you’re okay. I know I’ll never be able to fix or make you forget what they did to you but I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“Haymitch,” you scolded slightly, “it’s not your fault. I never once blamed you for this.” You lifted your hand to stroke down the side of his face. “I love you and I know you’d never put me in danger on purpose.”

“I never should’ve let you out of my sight,” he continued anyways. “Especially when I knew what was coming.”

Before you could protest once again the doctor came in. “Mrs. Abernathy,” he interrupted. “Glad to see you’re awake.”

“Uh- yeah,” you agreed, pulling away slightly from your husband. “What happened?”

The doctor paused for a second, struggling with saying what he needed to say in a delicate way. “Well, um, your injuries were due to, what we believe to be, repetitive, violent rape and a not properly cared for miscarriage. We stitched up the source of the bleeding internally and those stitches will degrade safely within the body over time so no need to get them removed. And while the Capitol did remove the decaying cells from your miscarriage to prevent you from going into sepsis, your uterus and other vaginal structures were mostly scar tissue. I’m sorry to say that you’ll never be able to carry a pregnancy again.”

You were horrified. Horrified remembering everything you’ve faced, not just in the Capitol after the Quarter Quell but also for the years of abuse that you hadn’t realized was killing your body in more ways than you thought. You were also disappointed remembering the miscarriage you had and the news that you’d never be able to give Haymitch a family. And yet also strangely relieved?

You faintly heard him dismiss the doctor before facing you again. “Hey, Y/N? It’s okay. I know you wanted to have a baby but-” With his words you let the tears fall, sobs wracking your body.

It took you a second to be able to speak but when you could you said, “No, it’s not that. Of course I wanted to have our baby and I know it’s fucked up to say this but I’m relieved. I wasn’t able to admit it to myself until now but I couldn’t possibly have a baby in this fucked up world. Especially as we’re fighting a war that we could very well die in. Haymitch, I love you, and I would’ve loved our baby so much but I’m glad I don’t have to worry about it anymore. I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same way.”

Haymitch paused, stunned. He never knew you felt that way about your pregnancy. “Don’t worry. I’m relieved too.”

Your heart melted knowing that this man would do whatever and be whatever to make you happy. Since you still couldn’t really move, you tugged his collar, urging him to kiss you. He complied, leaning up to press his lips to yours in a deep kiss full of all of each others’ love. Your first kiss since the arena.

When Haymitch pulled away to breathe all he wanted was to crawl into bed and hold you tightly to his side like he had after your games. But the Capitol beds were much larger and you were more fragile than he had ever seen you so he opted instead to sit back down, clasping your hand once again.

A couple hours later you and Haymitch had both dozed off in the relative silence of the hospital wing of District 13. You were both startled awake by Johanna slamming the door open. “Ah, I see you two lovebirds are reunited in your perfect fucking bubble,” she sneered with a false smile.

“Ah, Johanna, nice to see you survived the games and the Capitol,” Haymitch groaned.

“Haymitch,” you scolded, rubbing your eyes. “Can you give us a second?” you asked him. He pursed his lips, reluctant to leave you again but agreed anyways, sending a look to Johanna as he exited the room. “How are you?”

She scoffed, fiddling with the IV bag she wheeled in. “How do you think?”

“Well considering you’re allowed to walk and you managed to give those doctors hell when we got back, I’m guessing not too bad.”

She chuckled at that. “All I want to do it carve the hearts out of Snow and all those Capitol bastards,” she growled. “I’m sure you feel the same. We could all hear everything as Snow let those guys-”

“Johanna,” you cut her off, not wanting to relive it.

“Sorry,” she said realizing your discomfort. “They tried to do it to me too. Again. I refused, nearly killed a guard in the process. Why didn’t you fight back while we were there? Not like they could’ve hurt you any worse.”

“When I first woke up there I had no clue where Haymitch was. No idea if he was in danger or not. Also I watched you and Peeta get dropped in your cells half dead every day. I figured *that was a better alternative to what you were going through.”

Johanna shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just us picking our poisons.”

“Have you seen Katniss? Or Annie? Or even Peeta?”

She looked surprised. “You haven’t heard?” Confused you shook your head no. “The Capitol fucked with Peeta’s brain. He’s basically terrified of Katniss and is trying to murder her. Anything about her sets him off.”

Your eyes widened. “What? They brainwashed him? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

She shrugged. “I’ve been trying to see you since they finished all their stupid little tests. You haven’t been awake in almost a day.”

Your eyes fluttered in astonishment as you realized that you had missed out on so much information. “Okay, where’s Katniss?”

“Recovering. Peeta was about to choke her to death before Haymitch and a few other guys got him off her.”

“And Annie? Finnick?”

Johanna shrugged once again. “She and Finnick are off somewhere. She’s fine. She was hardly touched while were were in the Capitol.”

“Good,” you breathed. Annie was the only one you hadn’t been able to see since three sides of your cage had been metal. You sometimes heard her screams but they were rare and as far as you could tell the guards hardly ever went into her cell.

Johanna scoffed. “She got nothing while Peeta and I were electrocuted and beaten half to death every day.”

“Johanna,” you scolded. “It’s not her fault. Besides she’s been through enough.”

“We’ve all been through enough. You, me, Haymitch, Finnick? We all got the worst of it after our games. Katniss got out her games scot-free and so did Peeta except now he’s paying for Katniss’-”

Her words were interrupted by Katniss as she closed the door behind her. You were shocked, you hadn’t even heard her come in. “You’re alive,” was all she said. You weren’t sure it was directed towards you or Johanna.

“So are you,” she answered, exiting the room.

It was Katniss’ turn to sit at your bedside, Haymitch following after. Her throat was badly bruised and her eyes looked bloodshot. From Peeta you realized. “Katniss,” you said softly, observing the haunted look in her eyes.

“Am I the reason you and the others got captured?” she asked, looking at both you and Haymitch.

“No,” you interrupted quickly. “Us getting captured was no one’s fault. All this shit isn’t your fault, you were just trying to save Prim.”

She opened her mouth to protest by Haymitch interrupted her. “Y/N, Coin wants you to talk to Peeta.”

“Who’s Coin?” you asked.

“Oh, right. There’s a lot to catch you up on. She’s the President of 13. And since Peeta’s mind has been altered, we’re hoping your face will offer some comfort since you were in the Capitol together.”

“Okay,” you agreed, eager to help the boy too good for this world. You tried to push yourself up only for Haymitch to rush to your side, pushing you down again.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he insisted. “You’re not cleared to walk yet. Let me find a wheelchair.”

“Haymitch,” you whined, “that’s humiliating.”

“Do you want me to carry you?”

“No, because that’ll be humiliating for the both of us when you drop me,” you joked. He gave you a sour look. “Fine,” you conceded.

Haymitch left, leaving you with Katniss once again. “District 12 is gone. The Capitol bombed it after the arena went out. I just thought you should know.”

You felt your expression physically drop. Everything you had ever known was just gone? The place you grew up, as shitty as it was? The people who had tried to help you when you lost everything? Your home with Haymitch? The place you had married yourselves? Just gone. You didn’t know what to say and neither did Katniss but your processing was interrupted by Haymitch’s return. “Is District 12 gone?” you blurted out, hoping Katniss was wrong.

He stopped dead in his tracks before sighing, nodding his head. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” he tried to comfort, coming back to your side. “Do you want me to tell Coin you’re not up to talking to Peeta?”

“No,” you answered quickly. “I’m fine. I can do this.” You felt so helpless now that your home was gone, you wanted to help someone. So you reluctantly let Haymitch wheel you towards what looked like a garage door. From there a medical assistant took you around the corner to a normal door and wheeled you into the brightest and whitest room you had ever seen. Strapped down to the bed was Peeta who looked at you with broken eyes. You nearly let out a sob realizing how frail and tormented he looked. “Peeta,” you said softly.

“Y/N,” he replied in the same manner.

“How are you feeling?” you asked.

“Where are we?” he dismissed your question. “This isn’t the Capitol.”

“We’re in District 13. Turns out it’s still a real place. We were rescued.”

“My family hasn’t come to see me.”

You felt a tear prick your eye as you remembered how poorly his family treated him in the first place. After he won the games and gave them more money they could possibly hope for they still refused to move into the home he won for them in Victor’s Village. “I’m sure we can-” you turned to find the assistant to ask them to bring his family but one shake of the head from him and you knew Peeta’s family hadn’t survived the bombing. “I’m so sorry, Peeta,” you cried, trying to take his hand gently. But he pulled his fingers just out of reach.

“There was an attack on 12,” he recalled. His empty, haunted expression slowly morphed into anger. “It’s Katniss. It’s because of Katniss.”

“It wasn’t because of her,” you insisted.

“Did she tell you to say that?”

“She didn’t tell me to say anything.”

“She’s a liar, Y/N,” he insisted. “It’s a trick.”

“What you’re saying isn’t real.”

A look of realization dawned over his face. “She sent you in here to talk to me. She and Haymitch.”

“No,” you began.

“Liar!” he suddenly yelled. “They’re liars! They left us in there!” You could faintly hear Haymitch’s yell to pull you out as the assistant began dragging you out of the room. You watched in horror as Peeta thrashed around on the bed screaming that Haymitch had abandoned you in the arena.

~

After another day you were cleared to try walking again. Before, rather than having a catheter placed (thank god), Haymitch would just carry you to the bathroom. An easier feat now that you barely weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. And as much as you appreciated it it was also infantilizing having to be carried to and from the bathroom by your husband.

As you swung your legs over the side of the bed you suddenly became afraid. You had been so eager to be able to walk again, wanting to regain some independence but now you were afraid to fail.

You glanced up at Haymitch who was nervously watching you. He had been reluctant when the doctor said you could try walking again, saying it was too early but you had a suspicion that he liked that you were so dependent on him for once. But you were itching for some self-worth so you slid off the bed, making hesitant contact with the floor. Once you began placing your weight on your legs you felt them shake slightly but nothing you couldn’t handle. Haymitch, however, was immediately at your side, taking our arm to hold your weight.

“Haymitch, I’m fine,” you insisted.

“I know but if you fall and tear your stitches-”

“I’m *fine,”  you insisted, a sense of finality in your voice.

“Okay,” he agreed, raising his free hand in surrender. He slowly released your other hand, allowing you to settle your weight on your legs. You felt a full ache in your hips and lower torso due to inactivity and the surgery but carried on nonetheless.

After a couple minutes of walking the shaking had gone away as your body quickly recovered it’s previous strength. “See?” you said smugly to your husband and your stride became more normal.

“You know we’re on the same team, right?”

“I still win,” you replied.

~

Unfortunately as soon as you were well enough to walk around they started forcing you into therapy.

“So, Y/N, how are you?” the therapist, Conrad, asked you, a gentle smile on his face.

“I’m fine,” you answered shortly. You knew he was just doing his job but you didn’t need therapy. You’ve been going through the same shit over and over again for the better part of a decade and were doing fine.

“Y/N, I understand you’ve just been freed from the prison Snow put you in long before he literally put you in a cell but you should still talk about it.” You didn’t say anything, just stared at him. “The Capitol also tried other, psychological torture. Starvation, sleep deprivation, that’s all in your file but I can tell they cut off your hair too.” You felt the urge to reach for your choppy hair but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Out of all the things they could do to you why do you think they chose to go after your hair?” You still refused to speak. “Y/N I can’t count this session or even end it if you don’t say anything.”

“So you’re bargaining for my compliance?” you challenged. “Just like they did with food and sleep?”

“No, I-”

“You wanna know about my hair? The Capitol guys didn’t like fucking a bag of bones that couldn’t stay awake long enough for them to make me beg them to stop as they hurt me. So they decided to continue to punish me by cutting off my hair while still keeping it long enough to keep me pretty.”

“Y/N, this is a safe space-”

“Why do you keep saying my name?” you yelled.

“To remind you that you’re human. You have worth and an identity. You’re not just your body.”

You rolled your eyes. “Trust me, I haven’t lost any self worth. I may have complied to survive and keep Haymitch alive but don’t think I let them turn me into a mindless slave.”

“Haymitch,” Conrad said, jotting a note. “Tell me about your relationship.”

“Why do we need to discuss him?”

“Because he seems to be the only thing you care about.”

“I care about other things,” you said defensively.

“But he’s the first you’ve mentioned by name that I didn’t bring up first. So tell me, what’s your relationship like in your most difficult times?”

“You wanna know what he’s like in the worst moments of my life? He was there for me. Do you think I’d be with him this long if he was an asshole?”

“Well he did mentor you and he was the only person in 12 who could possibly relate to you at the time.” You rolled your eyes, getting angry. “I think you should try to find an identity outside of your relationship.”

“I’m done. Tell the doctors to either get me a new therapist or stop sessions entirely. I’m not talking to someone who badmouths my husband.” And with that, you stormed out, heading to your and Haymitch’s dorm.

Haymitch had had his own dorm but since you were married they allowed you to have a two bunk dorm. You both had insisted that you wouldn’t need another bunk but they moved you anyways so the other bunk was just another seating area.

As you entered you found Haymitch sitting up on the bunk, reading. “Hey, how was-” But you ignored him, just climbing onto the bed, cuddling into his chest. He hummed, realizing what must’ve happened. “Hmm, that good huh?” he asked sarcastically.

~

You hadn’t been allowed to do much besides meet with Conrad. They had refused to get you a different counselor so you refused to be cooperative no matter how long he held you in his office.

The doctors also checked up on you frequently as rumors of invading the Capitol spread through 13. Katniss had gone out a couple times on “missions.” One of which was in 2 where she was shot. Fortunately Cinna had the foresight to make her suit one fit for combat so she was fine aside from a few bruised ribs.

When you went to visit her it was just after Johanna had. “You ever had the wind knocked out of you like that?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Never,” she admitted. “Everyone saw me just collapse like a dead body,” she groaned, covering her face.

“Well yes but everyone is eating up the ‘The Mockingjay survived a bullet’ thing.”

“You should’ve been the Mockingjay, or Johanna. Neither of you would’ve fallen.”

“Well I can believe that for Johanna but trust me, I’m not superhuman. Besides, men aren’t threatened by you once they’ve seen you naked,” you admitted.

Katniss hummed for a second, basking in the haunted look in your eye. “Well I think Haymitch is still pretty intimidated by Johanna.”

You laughed at the memory in the elevator. “Yeah well Johanna’s a little different.” You took a breath. “All those men who tried to destroy me… I just wanna put a knife through each and every one of their throats. I never let myself be angry at them because it would make the situation so much more unbearable but now… all I can picture is the life leaving them.”

“So why don’t you? You’re not the Mockingjay. Go to the Capitol with the others.”

“I’m not cleared to fight. Too many injuries. Besides Haymitch would insist of coming and he’s still getting used to being sober. He couldn’t fight.”

“I couldn’t bring Peeta out there either,” she admitted.

~

You stood at the edge of the dance floor, admiring Finnick and Annie’s first dance as a married couple. You were happy for them, they had been through so much it was nice to see them get their happy ending.

As the bridesmaids and groomsmen were called to the floor you reluctantly let Haymitch pull you to the dance floor along with Finnick, Annie, Katniss, Gale, and a few others. “So, you ever think about having a big wedding like this?” Haymitch asked you.

You gave him a look. “Getting married with a bunch of strangers in a bunker in the middle of a war? I much prefer our little elopement.”

Haymitch smiled. “Me too,” he said sweetly. “At least our wedding had booze.”

~

A/N sorry if the tone felt rushed. It’s hard to write about Mockingjay because it’s the most complicated book/movie and it focuses so heavily on Katniss and the things only Katniss can do so filling in the gaps is difficult

Part XII | Masterlist | Part XIV

[mackeydoodledoo]

My Sweet Dove: Chapter 1

Pairing: Larissa Weems x (Fem! Vampire)Reader

Summary: You're the only vampire in existence that is basically immune to Nightshade Poison. When your supposed soulmate is injected with such, you go feral.

Warnings: WEDNESDAY SERIES SPOILERS, Angsty Ending

Key: Italics = Thoughts, +*+ = Time Skip, Bold/Italic = Flashback

Theme: Feed the Beast - A R I Z O N A

A/n: Cool, so it isn't just me simping over Gwendoline Christie in the new Wednesday series, and the type of Vampire Y/n is the Vampires from Twilight.

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

You developed a rare genetic all vampires thought weren't able to develop.

To further explain: Your saliva has developed an immunity to Nightshade Poison. You can only ingest a very small amount of the poison. So if someone were to be injected with such poison, you'd have to 're-puncture' the injection point with one of your fangs in order for the extraction to work properly and thats when your protective saliva kicks in.

"It's gross," You joke

"Sounds cooler than being a shapeshifter," Larissa says

"Yeah, says the one who shifted into Judy Garland in the talent show," You laugh

+*+

You graduated in 1991; alongside Morticia Addams (Neé Frump), and Larissa Weems. It would make sense for people to fawn over Morticia. She was absolutely gorgeous. But, you fell for the shapeshifter.

"I don't know what to do Morticia," You sigh to your botany class partner, "I like her but... How do I ask her to the Rave'N?"

"Simply... Ask," She answers

"Easy for you to say," You groan, "You and Gomez are basically attached at the hip. Like, you two just 'clicked'..."

“It won’t hurt to ask,” Morticia says, “The worst case scenario is that she’ll say no. Besides, I think it’d cheer her up.”

“Why me of all people?” You ask

“Each year I’ve never seen you at the Rave’N Y/n,” She says, “I want you to at least go to our final one before we graduate.”

“And if I don’t?” You ask

“I will find you every chance I get and scold you about it for the rest of your life,” She says

“Gosh fine Morticia,” You sigh in annoyance

+*+

You enter the Rave'N, watching everyone have the time of their life. You were never one for celebrations. You'd rather just stick to your room and wallow in your own self-life-questions.

"My my Y/n Y/l/n sure knows how to spiffy herself up," Morticia comes up to you

A man coddles up to her side.

"Gomez Addams right?" You ask, "Morticia talks nonstop about you."

You give him a firm handshake. But, no surprise they walk off to have whatever moment they were going to have.

Back to the awkward standing in a corner...

"Y/l/n," A voice calls to you

"Larissa," You nearly jump

"Since when were you one for celebrations?" She asks

"Trust me, I'm not," You couldn't help but smile, "Morticia would scold me for the rest of my life if I didn't attend at least one. So, who's the lucky person accompanying you tonight my lady?"

"Over with Morticia Frump I'm afraid," She sighs as she sees the two lovebirds in very close proximity to one another

"Hmmm," You sigh

An awkward silence stands between the both of you as the DJ throws in their questionable music to give the students something to dance to.

“Care to dance my Sweet Dove?” You turn to her

“When will you ever not use that nickname?” Larissa sighs in annoyance 

“Until I’m dead,” You chuckle, “Now, yes or no to a dance?”

*Larissa’s POV* She turns to you as a hand; glistening in the lighting. You saw how well she tried to keep her face away from looking into yours, knowing that is how she shows her fear of rejection. And yet... Here she was before you, jumping her chance.

“One dance Y/n,” You answer

*Y/n’s POV* You look up when you felt a hand take your outreached one. You wish you could feel the heat in your cheeks again, because you definitely felt something spark your interest.

“Come on you couples let's slow it down a bit,” The DJ announces, playing a slower than usual song

“Don’t get any cheeky ideas Y/n,” Larissa says

“I have no clue what you are talking about,” You lie

The awkward gap between the both of you was uncomfortable. You wanted to pull her closer but you weren’t able to find it within yourself to do it yourself. 

“Oh!” Larissa gasps, falling into you

You look past Larissa’s shoulder and you see Morticia and Gomez, Morticia giving you a subtle wink as Gomez twirls her out of sight.

“You okay?” You ask

She nods as she adjusts herself back into your embrace. You were expecting her to pull away but she doesn’t.

+*+

You weren’t necessarily faculty, but Larissa Weems had hired you to keep an eye on Wednesday Addams. 

“You were close to Morticia,” She says

“And here I thought you called me to be here because you missed me,” You chuckle, “Besides, Morticia and I have not spoken for a very long time. I wasn’t even there for when she had her kids.”

“You’re the most observant person I’ve come to know,” She says, “I also... Need extra hands for this years’ Rave’N.”

“What unforgiving theme have you agreed upon this time?” You lay back into the chair

“All white,” She says

You nearly gag in your mouth. 

“At least make something that every single kid would be interested in,” You sigh

“Our students? Or you?” She asks

“Got me there,” You chuckle, “But, you do know that I don’t wear bright colors.”

You stand from the chair and begin the process of turning to retreat too your own room for the rest of the day to get yourself settled.

“And for the record Y/l/n,” She begins, “I have missed you. Terribly.”

“What’s your plan for the future?” You turn to Larissa

It was post-graduation and the both of you decided that you’d share one last night together before departing back home. 

“I don't know...” She says, “But one thing’s for sure...”

“And what’s that?” You ask

“That I’m going to miss you,” She says

“What about me that you’ll miss?” You chuckle, “Not like I’m going to go move anywhere.”

“Everything,” She says

You chuckle, “I wanna say that ‘Everything’ is not actually true.”

“It is,” She says, “Don’t believe me?”

“My Sweet Dove,” You turn to her, “That is not at all of what I’m saying. Should you need me at your side I will be there. Doesn’t matter how far away I just so happen to be.”

+*+

One day before the Rave’N. Weems didn't really give you a handful of tasks. So you went about the town; hoping to find the perfect outfit. 

“You’re not one to make the extra mile,” Kinbott explains

You and her were sitting at the Weathervane. You weren’t particularly close to Kinbott, but you did have a few therapy sessions with her about your entire relationship with Larissa Weems.

“Well, I had no luck finding a nice outfit for the dance,” You sigh in frustration

“What did you wear for the last one you attended?” She asks

“Simple black outfit with a gothic jacket,” You say, “Not that it’ll fit me anymore.” 

“I hear the theme is all white,” She says, “But, I do know that you aren’t one for bright colors.”

“Yeah... I’m not,” You sigh

“You’re like Wednesday,” She says, “Maybe you can just find what you're comfortable in. It’ll definitely turn a certain head.”

You roll your eyes at the therapist. She has been made aware of your feelings towards the former student and the blooming feelings you had harbored.

“Doctor, aren’t you supposed to be acting a professional when we talk about my relationship issues?” You ask

“I’m not on the clock, and these aren’t our usual meeting times,” she counter-argues

“Fair enough,” You say

+*+

“Principal Larissa Weems,” You saunter your way over to her side, “Fancy seeing you here at a Rave’N after all these years.”

*Larissa’s POV* When you hear your name, you turn to the person greeting you. Black dress shirt and pants, and silver suspenders. Despite that it was simple, you appreciated how it hugged her figure in every right way possible. 

“Can’t let these kids go unsupervised,” You sigh, tearing your eyes away from the sight of Y/n’s figure, “And, Miss Y/l/n, I strongly encourage you to never refer to me by my first name.”

“Now would you prefer it to be my little nickname for you? My Sweet Dove?” A smirk swipes across her face

You turn to her; your heart nearly sinking.

God I love that nickname...

But you also couldn’t show any emotion towards it. It was merely years ago, a young, outdated nickname she made up for you. Plus, you didn’t want any of the students knowing. 

*Y/n’s POV* You could hear the muscles in her face tense as she grits her teeth against one another.

“You tell any other faculty or the students about that-”

“Relax Weems,” You sigh, chuckling, “I haven’t told a single soul. Besides, it’s more fun if I alone tease you about it.”

“Here's to an unforgettable night,” Thornhill comes between the both of you

“Oh, be careful what you wish for Ms. Thornhill,” Weems says

“Weren’t you two Nevermore students once?” She asks, “Don’t you remember the fun times?”

“All I remember was disappointment,” Weems explains, “The boy I asked turned me down for another girl...”

“I was never one for these functions,” You explain, “Speaking of which, this enclosed space is making everything unbreathable, If either of you need me, I’m going to be outside...”

You turn your back to the function and begin walking against the current of entering students to take a step out into the fresh, crisp, cold air.

Well, it wasn’t all that bad...

After the song ended, the upbeat music began playing once more. However, you and Larissa remained in each others’ grasp.

“Come to my room tonight?” She requests

“Of course,” You smile, “I do have to run back to my dorm though. I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay, see you soon,” She smiles

She leans forward and kisses your cheek as she begins walking away.

Hmmm...

You turn your heel and briskly walk back into the ballroom as you begin searching for the principal. Easily enough, you spot her towering over most of the students. You weave through the students as Larissa’s figure began growing in your sights. 

“Y/n what are you?-”

She stops mid-sentence as she watches you take her hand into yours. You look up at her as she looks down at you.

“Care to dance My-?” 

Sweet Dove.

You nearly slipped as her nickname nearly rolled out of your mouth like blood. You knew some eyes were upon you and the principal. However, everyone was cheering in encouragement towards their headmistress.

“One dance Y/n,” She relents

The students cheer as she takes a grasp of your hand and you begin leading her to the dance floor. To the upbeat music; your hand never left hers once. For once, you didn’t think about the expectations as a person who is semi-working for Nevermore Academy, but it took you back to your own time as a student, sharing one dance with Larissa Weems. 

Despite you were a sparkling vampire, you still possessed stamina and you also needed a minute to get away from the swarming bodies, but Larissa remained with her students until the song ended.

“I forgot what being on the dance floor felt like,” Weems sighs as she picks up a glass of punch

“You... Still go it,” You chuckle 

“I need to ask you something Y/l/n,” She says

“Shoot,” You say, sipping the red punch

“I recently remembered that Morticia had spoken to someone about someone asking me to a Rave’N,” She begins explaining, “But, I ended up not getting asked at all... Was that going to be you to ask me?”

You open your mouth to speak however, you felt something fall onto your head. You look up and see red spewing from the indoor sprinkler system. You opened your mouth to gasp but some of the red substance had landed into your mouth. you begin choking on the inedible substance as you try to breathe, your nose suddenly felt like it was on fire.

“It’s paint!” You try to plug your nose

+*+

Thanks to the Jericho kids for sabotaging the Rave’N, the paint fumes ruined your sense of smell... 

“How’s your nose Y/l/n?” Larissa asks

“I can still smell the paint fumes,” You sigh, “But, it’s not as bad as when it happened though.”

“Fortunately the Noble is punishing the students responsible, Lucas will do community service here at the school,” She explains

“Better than a normie getting ripped to shreds by werewolves I guess,” You say

Unlike some of the vampires you have met, you had heightened senses; sight, smell and hearing most of all. 

“Here,” Larissa comes over

As soon as you turn to whatever Larissa had for you, your nose made contact with her concealed clavicle. You yelp and fall back first right onto the floor like a tree getting cut down like a lumberjack.

“The HELL was that?!” You groan

“Just wanted to see how you’d react,” She smiles slightly, “You certainly didn’t change.”

“God I cannot STAND these stoner gorgons...” You groan

“You okay?” Larissa asks 

“Sorry, my sense of smell is very sensitive,” You say, “I have to go...”

“Miss Y/l/n,” Wednesday comes in

“Yes Wednesday?” You ask, turning away from Weems, trying to be inconspicuous 

“I need you to help me with something,” She says

“Sure,” You say

You follow Wednesday out of the office.

“Don’t be long,” Weems calls out to you

Your eyes widen as you shut the door behind you.

“Do I even want to know what all of that was?” Wednesday asks you

“Don’t worry about it,” You immediately brush past her, “Now what was it that you needed my help with?”

“How about we finally catch the Hyde?” She asks

“I thought... That was Xaiver?” You ask

“Tyler used me to frame him,” She says, “Tyler and I kissed and it showed me everything.”

+*+

“Whoa whoa whoa Wednesday what are you planning?!” You ask

“This isn’t what we signed up for,” Bianca adds

“Guys... Enid just texted... Thornhill’s suspicious,” Ajax adds

“Wednesday, if you say we have our Hyde, lets go to Weems,” You suggest, “You don’t need anymore of this attention upon yourself...”

“Then leave, Weems won’t help,” She says

Before you and the others could protest to Wednesday, she pulls out a taser from her back pocket and immediately puts it to Tyler’s neck. 

“That’s it, I’m out!” Yoko announces

The other students begin shuffling out after them. However, you were the only one who remained behind.

“One last chance to leave Y/l/n,” Wednesday says 

“Wednesday,” You say, calmly, “I believe you, your visions... I know they don’t lie to you. But, this isn’t the way to go about this...”

“Wednesday... Please... Listen to her,” Tyler pleads

“I don’t need your affirmation Galpin...” You growl, “Wednesday, if you love it here so much, don’t ruin it. You and I can figure something out.”

*Wednesday’s POV* For a moment... You actually contemplated on listening to her... If anything, you found her so much like you. Albeit that she is a vampire and that she was your mothers’ best friend.

“Let’s test your reflexes now shall we?” You ask Tyler

*Y/n’s POV* You watch as Wednesday pulls out a hammer; hearing Tylers’ shakes rattle through down to your eardrums. You were about to pull her back but you hear the door slam open.

“Hands up you two!!” Sheriff Galpin yells

You immediately throw yours up.

“Drop the hammer!” He tells Wednesday 

+*+

“I know who the Hyde is Principal Weems,” Wednesday begins trying to tell the case, “It’s Tyler. He confessed everything to me.”

You listen to the conversation between Weems and Wednesday after Wednesday basically was about to commit torture on a ‘normie’. 

“Weems, with all due respect, given the circumstances-”

“Not a peep out of you Y/l/n!” She raises her voice

You shut your mouth as you take a step back.

“I wish I could believe you,” Larissa says, coldly

“Then give me more time, and then I can prove that they are Hydes,” Wednesday begs

“You’ve run out of time Miss Addams,” She says, “Pack your steamer trunks, we will have them shipped...”

Your head shoots to Larissa... Looking at her in disbelief.

“You will be on the first train back tomorrow afternoon,” She continues, “I’m sorry 

As soon as Wednesday shuts the door behind her, your foot pivots to face the principal.

“You were too hard on her,” You say

“I beg your pardon?” She asks

She slowly stands up from her chair on the other side of the desk.

“You were too hard on Wednesday,” You firmly state, “She knows her visions don’t lie to her. Yes, I agree that her not coming to neither you and taking matters into her own hands was a questionable move but you could have given her the option of expulsion or have me work closely with her. You know I’m the most observant person in all of the Outcast community!”

“Now tell me what would make you the best fit for it?” She asks, “These last several months you have been turning the other way when you would see Miss Addams make a bold move that would jeopardize her standing in this school.”

“You were the one who assigned me to watch Miss Addams closely,” You say, “You never stated that I had to report to you and you alone. That was Dr. Kinbotts job.”

“Dr. Kinbott was here solely because the court had ordered for her to attend therapy,” Weems explains, “Where you on the other hand-”

“I was just an extra so you could deal with... Whatever it is a headmistress would need to do,” You sigh in frustration, “As someone who really goes about saying she does everything she can to keep every student in this school safe... I don’t think you really live up to that say-”

“Do you wish to join Miss Addams in expulsion Ms. Y/l/n?!” She raises her voice

 You knew you wanted to open your mouth to continue, but nothing came out.

“Get out of my sight,” She says, with a slight growl at the end

You pivot your foot once more and make haste to exit the headmistress’ office.

“You are incompetent,” She adds, “A stone around my neck.”

You loudly shut the door behind you, causing the students to jump in a panic. You take a moment to try and compose yourself. But the last thing that Weems had said to you... Prevented that. Not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself, you immediately retreat to your quarters.

Chapter 2

[thecreelhouse]

tramps like us

Paring: Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

CW/tags: angst, hurt and not much comfort, PTSD, language, a smidge of fluff

WC: 4.1k

Summary: Gator was supposed to come home to you, but he admits to becoming tangled up in his old life, before even starting his new one, with you. Without warning, he falls silent, leaving you in the dark as your fears run wild.

〘 this is a sequel to part time soulmate, full time problem ✧.┊listen to the series playlist here. ✧.┊read on AO3 〙

A/N: hi y’all, tysm for any support on this so far. I’m hoping this reaches the folks who kept asking for a sequel, so please don’t hesitate to leave feedback or reblog if you like this so far 🥺 if you do read this, enjoy <3

chapter 1 ✧. ┊

first thing to go - hayley williams

◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷

⋆｡♪ First thing to go was the sound of his voice / It echoes still, I’m sure, but I can’t hear it

Was it gentle or cold? Or maybe just noise? / I heard what I wanted, until I couldn’t. ♬ ₊˚.

══════════════════

It had been one week. One entire week since you came home from North Dakota, after attempting to visit your family for the holidays, an attempt made out of the last bit of familial loyalty fueled by the tiniest bit of guilt left in you.

Ten days set aside to hopefully, maybe, patch up whatever bond might be left between your parents and you. Unsurprisingly, not a shred of that bond existed. If you were being honest to yourself, that bond didn’t exist to begin with.

Instead, you rediscovered a bridge you believed was burned to ashes and buried long ago, with someone you believed you’d never hear from or see again. From childhood best friends to complete enemies, you dreaded the idea of having to spend three days with Gator Tillman. Fate had a sick joke up its sleeve, snowing in the two of you together for an entire week. A week you never dreamed would bring you to confessing feelings you had shoved to the back of your mind nearly a decade ago.

Now, one week after a teary-eyed and reluctant goodbye, you still haven’t heard from Gator when he promised he’d be here by now. Well, he hasn’t contacted you at least since New Year’s Eve, where you called him at midnight; as all of the other couples kissed as the past year rolled into the next, you were trying to find the quietest room in the house to talk to him.

“Damn, sounds wild on your end,” Gator laughed as he tried making out your words between loud, joyful sounds that filtered in through the empty blanks. 

You pout, despite him not being able to see it. “You owe me a kiss, Tillman.” 

“Next week, I promise. Can ya’ hang on ‘til then?”

“Hm, not quite sure, might die going that long without it.” Your teasing comment slid past him, distracted on his end. Only silence followed. “Gator?”

“Yeah?”

“… You are comin’ here next week, right?”

Asking a question like this, doubting his original intentions, all while drunk, was just a recipe for abandonment issues to flare back up.

“Yes, why wouldn’t I?” He didn’t sound irritated or upset that you questioned this, more concerned if anything. “Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

Maybe you were just overthinking things. After all, it had only been a day since you got home. Physically, he’s distant, but not emotionally. At least, you don’t think.

“No! No, you’re totally fine, Gator. M’sorry, just… just really miss you, is all.” That didn’t sound less pathetic than admitting the truth of fearing he was leaving you again.

“I’m comin’ home soon, darlin’, I promise. You’ve got no idea how much I want this week to be over with already. I just wanna be with you again.”

That’s when something clicked in your mind, and your stomach dropped. “… Does your dad have you workin’ some fucked up job again?”

Gator’s sigh weighed down with guilt came through the phone, heavy and pained.

“Fuck… you can’t be serious, Gator. What the fuck?!”

“I- I can explain—“

“Didn’t you severely hurt him the night we left the house?” You found yourself touching the healing wound on your face, now properly bandaged thanks to Ivy— a house mate and your best friend— and her professional nursing skills. She was pretty impressed that Gator did as decent of a job as he could with the few supplies he had on hand. That was something you wanted to tell him over the call, but now you’re just consumed by negative emotions, snaking around you before constricting the air from your lungs.

“Yeah, well, y’know Roy, he refuses to give up to anythin’, especially livin’. He’s like a goddamn cockroach.” His remark dripped in a vitriolic venom, something he once was terrified to ever voice out loud before last week’s disaster. “At least he ain’t bringin’ up what I did to him.”

Ignoring his last comment, you snap, “And doing his dirty work is justifiable? What the fuck is he making you do?”

Gator paused, feeling sick as he thought about what his dad has made him do so far in just the last twenty-four hours. “I— It’s fine. Look, I’m just doin’ this one last time, I’m wanted to secure extra funds for us—“

“Huh? Gator, we’re fine—“

“M’just tryin’ to help things in the future, alright?” He murmured, regretting his choices already. 

“What things? We can cross those bridges when we get to them. Gator, you’re not… this makes no sense to me right now.” You were so lost in all of this. “Y’know the only reason he makes you do shit like this, whatever the fuck it is this time, is ‘cause if things go south, you’re the one with blood on your hands, not him.”

He answered without hesitation, “I know.”

You wanted to shake some sense into Gator, wanted to scream into the phone and tell him to forget it, forget moving here, forget coming home to you. Except you knew damn well you’d regret that, and he still needed somewhere to go, far from the danger he’s in right now. 

You still needed to be Gator’s safe place, his lighthouse, but the waves are already cresting to a terrifying height, where the only way down is with destruction as it crashes into the rocks on the shore below.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Gator. Can you get out of this? Please? I- I’ll get ya’ a ticket to fly out tomorrow.” You pleaded, desperate to protect him from a downfall that could end in him disappearing, just like his mother. “Gator, you promised me you’d be careful. You pinky promised.”

“I did. And I’m sorry, y’got no idea how sick this entire thing has me. If I leave now, there’s…” He paused, sparing you from the twisted details. “… it’s complicated.”

“Well, make it uncomplicated! Fuckin’ hell, I’ll come out there and deck Roy’s lights out if it helps ya’ get out of this. I need you safe. I need you here, Gator. I need you.” You didn’t mean to bring the last three words to life; it’s true, you did need him, but it felt so selfish to say right now.

This would’ve been the moment Gator would tease you for how feisty you get when you’re angry, talking a big game with little to show, but you meant well. 

Nothing of the sort came out of his mouth, though.

“You still trust me?”

“Barely.” You didn’t mean to spit it out so harshly, or honestly, at all. “M’sorry—“

“It’s fine, ya’ got every right to be mad.” He sounded drained, worn down.

“I’m not mad, Gator. I’m livid that you think putting yourself in danger is okay, I’m fuckin’ scared for you.” You were sobering up quickly from the conversation, but the fear made you nauseous. “Nothin’ I say can change this, huh?”

“It’s not like I ain’t comin’ at all. I am. Just… be patient. Please?”

You wanted to throw a fit, tell him to keep his blood money, but your throat ran dry, scared to hurt him further. So you suppressed how you really felt, kept it to yourself.

“Okay, Gator. Just text me, or call me. Somethin’, anythin’. Even if it’s quick, I just wanna know you’re a—“

Alive. You just wanted to make sure he would still be alive by the end of the week. It felt wrong to say out loud, like you’d jinx his safety before he could even make it home. So you pumped the brakes before the word could slip out.

Gator knew what you were about to say, but he didn’t want to upset you any further. “I will, darlin’. I love you, y’know that? I really do.”

You knew that, but you didn’t like the cost that came along with this love, for either of you.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The well-worn door to your apartment is flung open, slamming against the wall, except the sound is muffled; you learned long ago that Ivy couldn’t bring herself to settle her obnoxious entrances, so you’ve got a landing pad on the wall of thick styrofoam, ready to catch the antique brass doorknob every time she welcomes herself in. 

In your first year of living in this old townhouse, the door slamming open used to startle you. Now, you don’t even flinch. Your poor cat, Lovebug, does, though; his black fur stands on end as he leaps from your lap.

“There she is!” Ivy’s cheery voice echoed through the apartment, kicking her foot back to shut the door. “I brought you iced coffee, with— oh. Oh, honey.”

Perched in the bay window, you curled up in a large quilt, a thrifted one from years ago, with constellations stitched from metallic gold thread into the dark navy fabric. You couldn’t tear your face away from the street below, afraid you’d miss Gator if he finally would show up.

As Ivy shuffles over with the coffee, handing it gingerly to you, she softly informs, “Flor said to take all of the time you need, she’s got the shop covered no problem.”

There was no way you could focus on running your side of the used book and record shop, hanging by a thread as you waited desperately to hear anything from Gator… But it wasn’t like being glued to the window all day, stuck in your spiraling thoughts, was good for your mental health, either.

As you turn to face her, she stifles a gasp; the circles under your eyes have never been darker, while your eyes are completely bloodshot. “When did you last sleep? Are you staying hydrated? Fuck, it’s not the flu that’s been going around, is it?”

You shake your head, unable to speak, too fatigued to form your thoughts into words. 

At first, Ivy’s friendship came on strong, but after some time, you realized you needed a friend like her; loyal, kind, but also tough as nails, and had no problem threatening any dude who tried groping you at the club. She was also a nurse, and was always tending to everyone’s health ailments, trying to save trips to the doctor or hospital.

“C’mon, I should change this,” She feathers her touch along your healing cut, inspecting it. “It’s healing nicely already.”

You nod, on autopilot as she leads you to your bathroom, with medical supplies as a semi-permanent fixture on the counter. You settle yourself onto the closed toilet seat and wait patiently as she disinfects supplies and her hands, immediately rolling gloves over her hands. Lovebug curiously follows the two of you, settled down from the startling noise moments ago.

While she gets started, she asks the same question she’s asked the past week. “Nothing from Gator, I guess?”

You don’t cry when she asks this. You stopped crying over the question two days ago, growing numb to the idea you’d ever hear from him again.

“Nothin’.” You look away as Ivy’s cleaning your wound, heart sinking like a goddamn stone in your chest at the thought of radio silence for a week. “I’ve called and texted, and he hasn’t responded once.”

Ivy knew the situation, at least, as much as you could tell a close friend without sharing intimate details of someone else’s life story. “You’re sure it’s his dad, and not another reas—”

You shake your head, but bump into Ivy’s hand, hissing at the dull ache. “Sorry.” Your cat hops back into your lap, purring affectionately as he makes himself comfortable again.

“Just stay still for a minute longer, you’re doing great, girlie pop.” She murmurs, tugging a laugh out of your weak self. The sound is music to your best friend’s ears, curling the corners of her lips up into a smile. 

“I told ya’, we’re too old for Gen-Z slang.” You’re giggling, and Ivy laughs softly with you. Her shoulders relax as you show you’re not completely numb. Not yet.

Your phone vibrates against the tiled counter, echoing in the bathroom and startling the two of you. Ivy knows you’ve been keeping your phone close, and backs up as you lean forward to grab it. You don’t look at the number, just answer it frantically. “Hello?” Ivy waits in suspense, until she watches your face fall.

“Yeah, Ty, I know what tomorrow is.” You watch Ivy’s face twist in irritation before grabbing your phone.

“Dude, seriously? You know she’s been waiting for an important c— yes, I know, but you could’ve texted her. Or called me. Come on, man.” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose as she squeezes her eyes shut. “Yeah, yeah alright, I’ll tell her.” She hangs up and puts your phone aside before replacing her gloves and tending to you again. “Nothing against Ty, but I swear he’s got rocks for brains.”

You force a laugh, only coming out in a weak huff. “S’okay, he didn’t mean any harm. I bet those rocks in his head are, like, painted ones. Y’know, the ones people paint and leave for others to find? Good intentions, just….”

“Unnecessary at times?”

“You said it, not me.”

Ivy finishes your new wound dressing; you’ve healed enough to get away with only butterfly bandages, so the re-bandaging process has become quicker, thankfully.

“Thanks, Ives.” You force a smile, heading back to the living room, Lovebug cradled in your arms. Ivy nods as she trails behind you. “What did Ty want anyway?”

She grabs her coffee, settling in on your couch with her legs bent pretzel style. “He was just reminding us it’s our turn to cook for family dinner night.”

 “As if you wouldn’t put that in your planner and phone reminders.” You chuckle, picking your coffee up before sitting next to her. Before taking a giant gulp you point out, “He’s the one who forgets his turn, not us.”

Ivy scoffs, hand up in a ‘stop’ pose, “Don’t even get me started, girlie pop.” 

You groan with an exaggerated eye roll, but can’t help laughing into your words, “Ives, we’re not hip!”

 “Yeah, well, we’re not old enough for senior discounts yet,” She chuckles, relieved to see you feel emotions other than anxiety and dread, “so I’ll say what I want.”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

At the end of each month, you and all of the tenants would get together to make dinner as a thank you to Bea— affectionately called Mama Bea by some of you, for her maternal aura— for the affordable rent and unconditional kindness, and to catch up with one another with quality family time. It’s something that would’ve made your stomach churn back home, but here, you look forward to it every time.

The night before you left for North Dakota, you cherished the found family get-together more than usual. This wasn’t the kind of familial love you’d find back home, your childhood home, that is. Forced politeness for the sake of keeping sweet didn’t exist here; each month there was a guarantee for some kind of friendly, playful banter, like the lot of you were lifelong siblings.

The whole group made sure to go around at the end of these routine nights, stating one thing, anything you were thankful for that month. From the tiniest of victories, to the most impactful life milestones, and everything in between, it was shared. Shared without the fear of judgment, and with the most understanding people you’ve been lucky to stumble upon. 

Everyone had shared what they were thankful for this month, except you. It came naturally to your fellow housemates; Miles kicked it off, mentioning how he was grateful for the holiday bonus he was given, and how it helped fund the party before winter break for his class, recalling the joy on all the first graders’ faces when they realized they all got a small gift. He knew some kids wouldn’t have gifts to wake up to this year, so to give them even an ounce of that joy made his entire year.

Flor was thankful she was able to make dinner this month without burning it on everyone. Jinx brought up that she was going home to see her family, and her mother, possibly for the last time due to end stage cancer. She expressed gratitude for one last chance to hug her mom, spend time with her, even if the future seemed dismal with an imminent death on the horizon.

Frankie shared how blessed he felt that he and his partner would be welcoming a little one into the world soon. He was moved out already with them, all set up in the home their family would start a brand new chapter in. He was grateful for Bea and his fellow housemates, promising they’d be visiting with the baby often. You were already working on crocheting a baby blanket for them.

Ivy was grateful for the therapy dogs at the hospital she worked at. Not just for herself, but for the kids stuck in the children’s wing for the holidays. The way their faces lit up, she said, were brighter than the Christmas tree down in Rockefeller plaza.

Ty thanked Ivy for talking to some doctors to finally set up appointments to discuss top surgery. He expressed relief in even just knowing in the near future he’d be so much closer to the gender euphoria he’s always deserved as a trans man.

Bea expressed gratitude for everyone, and for the life she’s been able to live thus far, and the ability to share it with you all. 

“What about you, sunshine?” Ivy asked you, curious. You never got tired of the way they all still called you by the nickname that stuck years ago. No one remembers where it came from, who started it, but it might as well be your legal name by now.

It took a minute, but you answered, “I’m thankful to have a home to come back to. A real home. A real family to be a part of. Thankful for Mama Bea’s generosity and open heart. I know this trip back west is gonna be a shitstorm, but knowing I’ll be coming back to you all is already helping me get through what’s bound to come. So, thanks, y’all.”

While your words were true, you were definitely rambling from the alcohol buzzing in your system. Just enough to make you chatty and giggly.

“That’s sweet, but are you gonna talk more about that guy? You think you’ll see him again?” Jinx prodded, nosy as hell, but she never had a problem showing her desire to be in everyone’s business. 

“Yeah, what’s his name, Gator?” Ty asked before slurping down the remnants of his margarita; the holiday margaritas Flor made every year were to die for, honestly.

Your face crinkled up at the thought of Gator, remembering the way he looked as you saw him across the street, one last time before leaving North Dakota for good. How you had no issue making it crystal clear you hated every fiber of his being.

And yet, your heart fluttered at the mention of his name. You’d be a horrible fucking liar to try denying how much you missed him still.

“Jinx, c’mon, let it rest already,” Bea warned, tilting her glass in hand towards Jinx as she pointed her finger at the younger woman. 

“No, it’s okay… I- I hope I don’t have to run into him,” You paused, thoughts trailing off. Even all this time later he’s easily able to stop your train of thought by his mere existence.

You wish you didn’t miss him.

 “But aren’t you making that gift for him?” Flor piped up, curiosity getting the best of her. Ty nodded, also intrigued.

 “What— that’s just… I didn’t start it, I just figured maybe it’d be a good idea as a peace offering, or some shit.” You did your best to come off disgusted, but your friends knew better. They could read you like a book by now. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, y’all. It’ll be nice to keep busy on the flight too.”

 “Nah… you’re totally hoping you run into him.” Ty smugly stated. 

“Maybe you guys can mend the friendship,” Miles shrugged, hopeful things would work out for the best in your favor. “You’ve got all those memories with him that you constantly bring up, and you had your perfectly valid reasons to cut him off, but maybe it’d bring some closure, y’know?”

You laughed mirthlessly, looking down at the table. “Not sure I need closure from whoever the hell he turned into.”

Ivy gave your arm a supportive squeeze, “He could still be the person you knew underneath it all. Don’t make yourself uncomfortable, but if the opportunity arises, it might be worth trying to bury the hatchet at the very least.”

You nodded, appreciating everyone’s support, but especially Ivy’s. She always knew exactly what to say when you needed to hear it most.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Several days without proper sleep had finally caught up to you, and before you know it, you’re dozing off in the window seat, snuggled up with Lovebug as the winter rain lulls you to sleep. All of that exhaustion drags you into a deep slumber, one that’s deep enough to miss your phone going off in the middle of the night.

“…. Darlin’? I- I gotta keep this quick, but I’m… fuck it, I ain’t okay. I fucked up. I’m sorry for scarin’ you, and I’m sorry I never replied. My phone’s a goner, anyway. So if you see this weird number… I’m at a pay phone— can ya’ believe those still exist? I’m in the middle of fuck-all-nowhere, and this one truck stop has a— fuck. Shit. I gotta go, my ride’s here. I’ll explain everythin’ when I see ya’. I’m comin’ home, if ya’ don’t hate my guts again. If ya’ did, wouldn’t blame y— fuck, m’sorry, gotta leave. I love you.”

By morning, you’re woken up by Lovebug’s usual morning greeting of purring and affectionate headbutts, while a stiffness in your neck radiates from sleeping uncomfortably. The rain’s still heavy, pelting into what’s left of the snow, coating the city in that nasty, winter slush. A sharp pain runs down your neck as you try to sit up while you curse yourself for not falling asleep in your bed. 

Searching your surroundings for your phone, you find it on the floor next to the window. Must’ve fallen outta my hands last night. You reach for it cautiously, not wanting to irritate the pain in your neck further. The screen illuminates, reading the time as 8:43 in the morning, with a battery of 23%. Scrolling through your notifications, you discover a missed call and voicemail from a strange number.

Both hope and dread fill you as you hit play on the voicemail. Gator’s voice comes through the speaker, and you want to cry in relief, but you’re too stunned as you listen to him ramble. He’s all over the place, he doesn’t mention where he is, just that he’s using a pay phone — they still have those? — there’s no way to call him back, and he’s in a hurry. 

“Fuck it, I ain’t okay.” 

You’d do anything to find out where he was, even just a shred of information would give you some relief and put your mind at ease. He sounded so shaken up and defeated. Bile rises in the back of your throat, running through the god-awful scenarios he could have been forced through. 

“I’m comin’ home, if ya’ don’t hate my guts again.”

It kills you that he’s still beating himself up over the past, still worried he fucked up so badly, that you’d never fully forgive him. It still stings, what Gator did, but you’re moving forward, and you wish you could find a way to show him it’s okay if he forgives himself, too.

Hearing his voice for the first time in over a week is something you’d take solace in, but it’s heart wrenching to hear Gator feel so broken. You don’t have a clue what his dad forced him through, the kind of horrors he was made to witness— you know nothing at all, but you do know how strong Gator is, and hearing him that scared was rare.

Racing off the couch to the nearest phone charger, you turn the ringer’s volume up all the way before plugging it in. Maybe you’d be lucky enough to get another call from some random payphone on Gator’s way home.

Subconsciously, your fingers tug at the friendship bracelet he gave you before you flew back home, remembering what he teasingly told you after tying it on your wrist.

“Keep that one safe, yeah? I’m gonna want it back when I come home, so y’can’t steal it.”

Tugging your hoodie sleeve over your wrist, you ball up the fabric up between your fingers from the inside, as if it could shield the bracelet from anticipated damage.

If only it were that simple to shield Gator from any further damage and suffering, too.

[688199]

i will, don’t test me thomas doodooballs. my hatred for you triumphs everything 🔥🔥🔥 once i familiarise myself with mlb (🤮) i will maybe write a test script for an episode.

thomas and his writing team is proof that just because you have a job in something doesn’t mean you’re good at it.

huge rant and ramble:

as an avid enjoyer of story telling, i strongly despise everyone behind the writing of mlb.

firstly, marinette is supposed to have bad luck through her ditziness. i watched a few episodes, and her “bad luck” seems to just be with anything regarding adrien? it’s actually just more of her being obsessive and leading to stupid mistakes. on the other hand, bridgette obviously has bad luck. getting drenched, burning her tongue, yet she smiles through it. THIS IS POTENTIAL FOR BRIDGETTE’S CHARACTER. marinette’s character has never been properly explained. why is she this way? why is she different as ladybug? (honestly is she even different? kinda, but it’s not obvious) we sure do know why adrien is more carefree as chat noir. but not marinette. on the other hand, the set up for bridgette’s character can lead to so many plot possibilities. why is she so optimistic? is it because it’s what is expected of her? is she purposefully dense? when she gets drenched by the car, she pauses for a short while looking solemn, then smiles. but that smile looks pained almost. like she’s sick of acting that way. (yes i know i’m looking too much into a pv but that’s the point. i’m saying why the pv has potential.) therefore, as ladybug, she can be herself. someone who does whatever she wants, going ahead without thought, being the person she cannot be. anyways, why the hell is marinette even in love with adrien anyways. he just gave her a god damn umbrella or smth idk. i believe my baby bridgette loves felix because she truly sees his soft side. it may be cliche but it sure is a better reason than an umbrella.

secondly, felix. thomas and his team said he was too much like a cliche male anime protagonist, and adrien would let them tell more interesting stories. i mean sure, but it’s most ironic how they even FAILED AT THAT. i rather a cliche male anime protagonist than bitch boy adrien who is as bland as cardboard. felix being cold to those around him is very reasonable because as a model, he’s used to people only liking him for looks and his money. he thinks that bridgette only likes him for those reasons, so he pushes her away. but as chat noir, felix, like bridgette, is able to be someone he truly feels. unrestrained by societal pressures. EVEN THOUGH THEY ARE BOTH POLAR OPPOSITES, ONE BEING COLD WHILE THE OTHER IS TOO WARM, THEY SUFFER FROM THE SAME ISSUES DEEP DOWN. AS HEROES THEY ARE THEMSELVES. ISNT THIS COOL????? ISNT THIS A GOOD STORYTELLING POINT?????????? then even though he needs to kiss ladybug to break the curse, he soon falls in love with her because he admires her boldness, which is something he lacks when he’s himself. he doesn’t have the courage to stand up against his father. i think mlb chat noir likes ladybug for similar reasons but i don’t remember it being connected like that. (never watched the entire 100+ episodes, only bits and pieces, and read up other stuff so might be wrong.)

i believe his team is just straight lazy. they watered down the relationships and characters to the point that dynamic contrast is just not as powerful as before. in early preproduction art, the concept shown is supposed to revolve heavily around the idea of opposites. marinette is now just an obsessive stalker and adrien takes it. chat noir flirts with ladybug and she takes it. where’s the rejection from the opposite party??? where’s the oomph?? where’s the spice???

i do enjoy the concept of them letting go of their crushes. but i didn’t like how it was done in the series. it’s as if the writers don’t fucking know the hell they’re going. felix struggles with understanding whether he truly loves bridgette or is it because of the effects of the ring’s curse. does he really want the curse to be gone? while it gives him bad luck, he gets to be himself. what does he truly want? for bridgette, she realises that she is bothering felix too much. wanting the best for him and for her to focus on being ladybug, she learns to leave him in the past for both their good. she also suffers with the weight of being the main heroine. even though she uses her identity as ladybug to be free of expectations and responsibilities, yet it’s coming back to haunt her so she starts to feel stress. while chat noir and bridgette backs away, felix and ladybug realise that they miss the other’s company since the other was always there for them when they needed it the most. the way this was written in mlb was awfully horrible.

look at what i can do thomas astruc, look at the potential. “their chemistry sucks it’ll never work” SUCK MY BALLS WHAT BULLSHIT IS THAT.

anyways, other than the obvious reason as to why the animation is a lot more visually striking and can express more things the cgi can’t (dynamic movement, special effects, etc) (funny enough, the people behind mlb said the cgi made the show more dynamic???), this is why the pv has much more potential and i will never stop believing that.

(also why didn’t the cgi ever put in effort to make ladybug and chat noir look different than their normal selves. it’s the biggest fucking plot hole that never attempts to change. even the pv tries to make bridgette’s hair change.) (sorry for low quality but see, her hair is more messy too.)

thomas astruc and zag you’re just lazy money grabbing bastards 🗣️ i stand by that. if you’re truly passionate about what you want to do (which i believe you guys were until you weren’t), you wouldn’t have sacrificed quality for money.

“the concept of the original show dealt with political themes geared towards teens and young adults but it failed to gain traction with networks so it retooled for a younger audience.” other than the team failing to realise that “cliche” doesn’t automatically mean bad, the other huge fault is that they think children are stupid and can’t handle heavier themes. look at bluey, look at all the series out there with a relatively large children audience which also deal with such stuff. it’s not impossible, it just needs exceptional writing skills. but what can i expect from a team like that.

sorry not sorry, i’m pretty mad. i have a lot of other complaints but i already spent 2h writing this. down with thomas astruc!!!!! all hail ladybug pv!!!!!!

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

Psycho Killer

pairing: peter ballard x fem!reader

summary: reader has to deal with the consequences on what she has unleashed in hawkins lab.

warnings: blood, violence, manipulation, angst, possessiveness, controlling, dark fan fiction.

notes: this is my first tumblr post and peter ballard story lol. anyways no smut however if you do like this then let me know if you want a part two (with smut of course). purposely written with no caps. this means it’s a flashback. also i don’t properly prove read ! i hope you enjoy !

you should have waited. you were told to wait. ordered to wait for him. but here you were, taking two steps forward and one step back, terrified about what was occurring. whatever plan he was executing. the alarm wailing was what caused you to break your promise. what if peter was in danger? what if he needed you? the flickering lights and sounds of screaming over the transceiver proved you wrong. he was free from harm, which horrified you.

there was a growing endless pit in your stomach from every step you took. this couldn’t be by the hands of peter. he only wanted to set the both of you free from this prison. that’s what he told you. this barbaric disastrous in hawkins laboratory couldn’t be from him. but it was pointless, being in such denial. you had to do something, help some of these innocent people get out alive from this monster you’ve unleashed. if only you knew another way. if only you never removed the soteria from his neck. he’d still be sane. what have you done?

you creeped down the cement steps, in the dark boiler room. your heart was racing, goosebumps all over your cold skin. your eyes darted across the room, searching for him. the pipe hissed out steam which caused you to gasp lightly. you stepped back and bumped into a firm figure, it was peter. you turned back as he held his finger to his soft lips and whispered for you to be quiet. you followed his order.

“follow me” he instructed. he didn’t wait for you, because he knew you’d listen. peter knelt down before a pipeline to jerk off the metal barrier. he dropped the barrier and looked towards you with soft eyes.

“now, it’s going to be a bit scary in here. but this, this will lead you out beyond the the lab fence to the woods” peter explained to you as he stared down the dark tunnel with weak eyes. you frowned, examining the sizing of the tunnel, and then you frowned to him.

“but… you’re too big” you noted, your stomach felt heavy as you waited for him to look back to you. it made you feel so much more anxious.

you would fit, just. it’d take some time to crawl out into the woods. but you didn’t want to go without him, you couldn’t go without him. this was meant to be a plan for you to escape together. there’s a slim chance you’d be able to survive, let alone escape without him.

slowly, he looked back towards you. he straightened his back and grabbed ahold of your cold hands. he felt so warm, it made you feel even weaker. his head tilted slightly as he looked for his words.

“i’m not going with you y/n” he confessed. you blinked back your tears. he leant in closer to you. “i meant what i said, when i called this place a prison. and everyone here is a prisoner, not just you. not just your brothers and sisters, but the guards too, the nurses” peter explained to you. his long fingers traced circles over the palms of your hands. you looked down to focus on his hands, it gave you comfort. “me” he finished. you looked back up to him, confused and lost. “look” he requested as he let go of your hands

peter tilted his head down to the left and held back his hair, exposing his neck. he grabbed your hand and placed it over his neck. “can you feel it?” he asked you as your finger traced over a small, firm, moveable bump in his neck. “your papa calls it soteria” he explained to you. he pushed your hand back, but still held onto it as he looked back to you. “it weakens me. it tracks me. even if there were another way out, he will find me. and if he finds me, he will find you” peter made clear.

you paused. blinking back the tears until you found your voice again. “what if i… took it away from you?” peter cocked an eyebrow to you as he waited for you to continue. his eyes were wide, and you weren’t sure if he was eager or scared for your next choice of words. “i can’t make it without you. i don’t want to make it without you. i-” you halted, unaware on if you wanted to say such nonsense.

peter squeezed your hands. “it’s okay, you can tell me” he assured you. it calmed you enough to feel ease in your throat again.

“i have feelings for you- i think that i love you. i don’t know what else this feeling could be” you admitted. he gave you a small smile as you two admired one another.

peter had lied to you. he manipulated you into setting him free. all of this disaster is your fault, and yours alone. you felt so used, so heartbroken. you loved him, you still love him. but this wasn’t peter, this was a sinister.

you should have noticed the subtle insanity in his expression once you had removed the soteria. the silence he had as he examined it. if only you paid attention to what he whispered. that evil grin would have explained everything to you.

you only thought he was protecting you, when he killed those guards. you didn’t know he wanted to hurt them. they wanted to hurt you, and him as well. you would have never seen him again, dr brenner would had banished one of you. he reassured your safety and protection when he showed you his tattoo. you two were alike, you were both unique and special. it was as if you were made for one another. it felt like it was destiny.

he cared for you, he wanted you to stay safe as he found a way out for you guys. he didn’t kiss you before he abruptly left, and at the time you had wished he had. you thought he would have. so now you weren’t sure what his true intentions are. what he had planned for you after this massacre. he was too powerful to defeat but you had hope, maybe you could convince him out of this before it was too late. maybe you could save the other children before he gets to them.

you gasped as you saw papa unconscious on the ground in a testing room. the door was ripped off the hinge. you were too frightened to see if he was still alive. as you turned, you saw an orderly with his eyes gouged out sitting against the tiled walls. you skipped a breath as you hesitated to continue on. you wished you hadn’t, but there was no turning back now. you saw the bodies of the children, all with their eyes gouged out as well. you were too late. you ran from the gruesome scenes, unaware of where to go now. but they only continued. there was blood everywhere. death was following you. the screams echoed the halls, and the blood printed on your mind.

you were on the verge of a panic attack. this was all your fault. your breathing was rough and your eyes kept squinting at every turn, fresh blood splattered everywhere. your heart was pounding to the point that you were convinced that it would snap open a part of your ribcage. you heard screams coming from the rainbow room and you weren’t sure if you had it in you to go in.

but what peter was doing was pure evil. you couldn’t stand by and allow such wickedness, knowing that you are the cause of this. a rush of adrenaline flown through you as you pushed open the doors. you stepped in to become frozen in fear.

peter stood tall with his back towards you, his hand raised into the air, his eyes had rolled to the back of his skull. there was blood splattered across his white uniform. but that wasn’t what petrified you, it was eleven’s small shaking body hanging in the air, her bones were snapped as her eyes bleed out. a soft groan was her final breathe as peter dropped her lifeless to the ground. there was dead bodies of the children everywhere. all of them had the same fatality. peter stood there, his breathing pushing his chest in and out. you shrieked at the horror, your back pressed against the doors now. peter spun around to you within a blink of the eye.

“i told you to wait” peter growled at you. he looked furious with you, for disobeying a simple order. it would have been better if you stayed in the closet. he knew how overwhelmed you’d become, how frightening this would be for you. he wanted to protect you from this.

he took a large step towards you. your hand gripped onto the door handle. he paused, an eyebrow now cocked towards you. he waited for your next move. your flight or fight mode kicked in. you bolted out of the rainbow room. peter only watched you scatter for your life. you missed his expression mixed with anger and disappointment.

you cried as you ran down the blood filled halls. tears streamed down your flustered cheeks as you couldn’t notice how breathless you were. you leaped over the body of a dead guard, but you slipped over a hidden pool of blood. you hissed as your hip crashed into the wall. you groaned as you tried to pull yourself up. you looked down the hall, your eyes widened as you saw peter striding towards you, wrath in his blue eyes. his hand swiped across the air, throwing the dead bodies in the hall to the side.

you shrieked again as you forced your injured body up. you rushed to the boiler room, it was your only chance of escape now. you scurried down the stairs and searched for the pipeline. dropping to your knees, you sprung yourself into the rusting, tight tunnel. however, firm hands gripped onto either side of your hips which caused you to cry out. you’re yanked out of the pipe and peter viciously let’s go of your frail body. you slid on the cement, adding to your pain.

“why are you trying to run from me?” peter spat out. but you were too scared to respond. your body curled up into a ball. that didn’t please peter. he scrunched his hand, which caused a force to push you towards him. he grabbed ahold of your arms roughly and glared down towards you. his looks could have killed you.

“peter… please this- this isn’t-”

“peter isn’t real sweetheart” you were cut off by peter. that evil grin was back.

“i don’t understand” you cried out, confused and scared.

his expression softened as he thought with logic instead of emotion. his grip loosened as he observed how distressed you were. he lowered you to your knees, you sunk below him. he brushed his hand through your knotted hair. you looked up to him with broken eyes, tears still dripping down your cheeks. peter squatted besides you and wiped away your tears with the back of his hand.

“a story set for another time. your brain has had too much to comprehend today i think” he gave you a small smile as he tapped your forehead. you flinched at the tap. “why do you cry for them y/n? after everything they did to you. you think you need them but you don’t. you only need me…” he spoke softly to you now, the back of his hand gently touched your heated cheek.

it sent a shiver down your spine. it was so soft but firm at the same time. it felt like it was a threat instead of a notion. his touch felt stone cold now, it was irritating you but you wouldn’t dare to pull away.

“they’re just children” you whispered. peter scoffed as a response.

“they were merely gadflies. an embarrassment of my fabrication. i gave them mercy” peter responded, emotionless.

“are you going to kill me now?” you asked as you moved your gaze to the cement ground. you had already accepted your fate, but now you weren’t sure if he was going to go through with it now.

peter frowned and forced you to look back to him. your chin was caught between his fingers. he read your eyes for what felt like hours. a chuckle left his lips, you gave him a bemused look. “sometimes i wonder how you’re so naive…” he admitted with an eased shrug of the shoulders. he continued on, “why would i commit such act? do you believe that i had deceived you of my fondness towards you?” peter questioned her.

“my feelings for you are stronger than i can express y/n”.

“do you?” peter asked again. you shook your head quickly. peter smiled to you and nodded his head. “good, are you still fond of me?” he replied.

was this a trick question? you weren’t sure how to respond. peter gritted his teeth, which motivated you to answer him. “yes” you answered honestly. he smiled once more.

“that’s very good” he answered. “however… i do not tolerate disobedience” peter brought up, you stared at him with unease.

“i’m sorry” you apologised instantly. but it’s not enough, you should know that.

“that won’t cut it” he sighed. peter stood back up to his feet and brushed his bloody hand through his blonde hair. he looked down towards you. your eyes briefly looked over his lower region. by the time you had set your sight on his eyes, he was smirking to you. “but it’s okay… we have all the time in the world now” he pointed out. “stand up y/n” he commanded.

you hissed in pain as you forced yourself to stand before him. peter placed his palm against your cheek. instantly you felt tired and dizzy. it was a struggle to keep your eyes open. you fell into his arms, he held onto your tightly, as he watched you like a hawk. through your blurred vision, you could still see that evil grin of the man that you still loved.

[greg-montgomery]

Lonely

Aaron Hotchner x Gn!Reader

Summary: Just a little hurt/comfort fic. It's one of those days where nothing feels okay, but to your surprise, your boss Aaron Hotchner is there to comfort you.

Soft!Hotch my beloved <333

TW: The reader talks about struggling with their mental health.

Words: 1.1 k

It was only you who was left at the office. You thought that occupying your mind with some boring paperwork would help you distract yourself from the painful feeling on your chest. It was one of those days where something as simple as a smile was impossible to fake. It was one of those days where a headache was creeping up by you forcing your tears not to spill all day.

If someone were to ask you why you were feeling that way, you would have an extremely hard time to explain. You couldn’t even explain it to yourself. You were just feeling sad. And feeling sad made you feel lonely.

The noise of a door closing made you drop your pen and turn your head to that direction. Yes, everyone else had left, but the word ‘everyone’ did not include your boss. Ever. At least for you.

 “Y/N, what are you still doing here? It’s almost eleven,” he asked, approaching your desk. Looking up at him you immediately recognized concern in his expression.

“I thought I could just finish this all up tonight. You know, so I don’t have it on my mind all week.” You tried to sound casual, but you were pretty certain he was already not buying it.

“I don’t want you to overwork yourself. Especially for something as meaningless as paperwork. You already go through enough when we have a case.”

You sighed, figuring there was no reason to fight him on this. If you agreed he would just drop it. “You’re right.”

You started collecting your things to put them in your bag, expecting Aaron to wish you goodnight and leave. Instead you felt him staring at you in silence.

Bringing your bag to your lap, after securing all your personal things in it, you turned to the side ready to get up. You hadn’t realized that he had moved closer though - to the point where if you stood up, your face would bump into his chest. That’s why you decided to stay seated.

You looked up at him and took a deep breath, trying to calm your heartbeat that was going crazy, because he was completely towering over you.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Is everything okay?” There it was again. That same expression of concern. You hated the way he could see right through you. Aaron was known for being able to read people – he was good at his job and you admired him for it – but it was never fun to be on the receiving end of his talent. It made you feel bare and vulnerable.

“Yes, everything’s good.”

He slowly squatted down so he could be at the same level as you. Your height difference hadn’t allowed your faces to be this close to each other before. Looking into his eyes from this new angle felt different.

“Listen,” he started. “I can understand why I would not be the first person you’d choose to talk to about a personal issue. I know I’m much older than you and might act a little like a drill sergeant sometimes, but I’m always here if you need to talk. I would love to help. About whatever it is that’s bothering you.”

You smiled sadly at him because, deep down, if you could choose one person in the world to open your heart to it would be him. But how could you randomly start talking about your feelings to your boss of all people? How does one get the chance to do so?

Except now you had the perfect chance. He was offering it to you.

“I don’t think I’m gonna make any sense, Hotch,” you answered; your voice small and ready to break.

“You don’t have to. This isn’t an exam, you know. You can just tell me how you feel. No need to explain.”

Tears started to blur your vision at his words. Your feelings for him got a hundred times more intense than they were before.

“I’m lonely,” you broke, crying properly now. “I’m so lonely.”

His hand reached out to take yours and his thumb started to move in a soothing motion. It helped.

“And I’m not saying I’m alone,” you continued. “I have my family, my friends, our team... I know I have people in my life who care for me, I really do. And I recognize how ungrateful I sound for saying that it’s not enough. But it’s not. I’m still lonely. And I’m still sad. And I don’t know why.”

“Sweetheart…” he whispered, his free hand cupping your cheek so he could wipe away the tears.

“I’m so tired of thinking I’m okay and then feeling awful again. It never ends,” you sobbed, leaning into his touch without really thinking about it. “I just feel so helpless when it gets bad. Like nothing can help.”

As soon as you finished your sentence he pulled you into his arms. The fingers of his one hand got lost between your hair, while his other hand was rubbing circles on your back. “Maybe this can help,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

You completely melted in his embrace. Your sobs got louder and your body was shaking, but it felt like release.

“Hotch,” you cried, “I just wanna be okay.”

“You will be, I promise.”

You pushed away, just enough so you could look at his face again. His eyes were red and your heart clenched at the thought of him caring for you enough to be this moved by your sadness.

His palms were cupping your cheeks again and his handsome smile made its appearance, looking sweeter than ever.

“Thank you,” you smiled back. It was through tears, but it was the only genuine smile you had given anyone all day.

“Of course,” he replied, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. “And now…” He dragged out the sentence, while standing up.

You missed his touch already. You didn’t want him to leave you alone. But you prepared yourself for his next words. He probably had to get home to Jack, you thought.

“How about we go get some ice cream?” he asked instead.

Your eyes lit up like a kid which made him laugh.

“I know a place that’s open all night. Let me drive us there,” he said offering his hand, and you took it without a second thought.

“I’d love that.”

You started walking towards the elevator, holding hands.

“Nothing like some ice cream after a good cry, right?” he joked and you giggled.

His hand dropped yours, only for his arm to wrap itself around your neck, pulling you close to his chest.

Maybe you could learn to love the way Aaron could see right through you. It made you feel cared for and understood.

[eddieandbird]

Shotgun

Summary: Eddie and you are in the garage, where you are smoking weed for the first time.

Warnings/Tags: Smut|f!reader|DrugUse/Smoking|NipplePlay|PlayFighting?|Hickies/Biting|Oral|f!Reader|Unprotected 

A/N: Reposted from my old account [edited and extended] -Bird

____

You and Eddie had woken up late on a Sunday with absolutely nothing to do. You had already made brunch from whatever was leftover from dinner the night before, and watched 3 movies before Eddie grew bored. He smirked at you as soon as he thought of what you two could do next. He had been dying to have a smoke session with you and you enthusiastically accepted the offer without really thinking about the fact that you had little to no experience with taking substances.

You two moved to the garage on camping chairs with a small stool in between them. Eddie utilized the stool to hold his baggies of weed and rolling paper. You were mesmerized by his bare arms as you watched them move in his sleeveless black shirt.

“See and then you lick the end of the paper sticking out,” Eddie explained. You watched his tongue glide along the end of the paper, feeling goosebumps develop all over your legs in response. Eddie rolled up the rest of the joint and held it out for you. “And there you go, you’re ready for a sesh,”

“Ah, cool,” You nodded awkwardly, your legs shifting in the chair.

“Are you not gonna take my offering? I mean I literally just did the hard part for you,” Eddie teased, bringing the joint close to your lips. You pulled away for a moment.

“No it’s not like that, I’ve just never smoked weed before,” You blushed, moving your eyes away from him in embarrassment. “I guess I’m kinda nervous,”

“Here baby, lemme help you,” Eddie grunted as he shifted your chairs to make them face each other. Your heart pounded as he got closer to your face. He flicked his lighter and quickly lit the end of the joint. His index finger and thumb met his plump lips before he took a hit.

“Come here,” he said without exhaling. He brought your face to his with his other hand, his fingers tangling in your hair. “Open…”

You followed Eddie’s order, slightly parting your lips. You were a bit startled as you felt him start to blow smoke into your mouth. Once you figured out what was going on, you started to inhale with your eyes closed. You turned away to cough due to the sharp pain in your lungs.

“Woah, woah, woaaaah! Good giiiirl,” Eddie chuckled, patting your back, assisting you in clearing out your lungs. “You did a great job taking that, babe,” These words rang in your head, causing your cheeks to flush. 

“Thank you,” you stuttered through coughs and giggles.

You two repeated the process until you properly felt the high taking effect. You loved how soft Eddie’s lips were and how gentle he was holding your face, trying to steady you. You then felt as if you were sinking in your chair and your stomach fluttered. 

“I told you it’d be fine scaredy-cat,” Eddie smacked the top of your thigh that was exposed due to how short your pajama bottoms were. Your jaw hung open at how much it actually hurt. Your thigh was stinging as he slid a finger down the mark he made. You thumped the back of his head in response. “Ow!” He yelped.

“Oh, I’m sorry Baby,” You said in a mocking tone, pouting your lips. Eddie’s adorable smile morphed into a devilish one. You backed away from his face.

“Oh I’m gonna get you now!” You saw Eddie starting to stand up and ran as fast as you could to the bedroom. You tried to close the door behind you, but the high made you clumsy and Eddie was able to grab you by your hips. “I gotcha!” He growled. You squealed as he picked you up and playfully body slammed you into bed. 

He pinned his body against you and you felt his abs tighten as he chuckled. He swiftly pinned your arms above you with one hand and you watched the other reach down under your arms.

“No!” You said, breathlessly. You knew what he was about to do and you braced yourself.

“Oh yeah!” Eddie stuck his tongue out as he began wiggling his fingers on your right armpit. You screamed so loud, you worried for a second that a neighbor could hear you.

“Eddiiieee! Eddie, no I’m-“ 

He quieted your whining by reaching down for a kiss. You were pleasantly surprised by how good the kiss felt due to the high. It started with small, slow pecks. You loved the way his lips cushioned yours. The kiss got progressively deeper until they were sloppy tongue kisses. You could taste the smoke in his breath but you enjoyed it nonetheless. When he pulled his lips away, you saw that Eddie was now straddling you. His fingers dragged up along your sides and then to the top of your breasts.

“Can I play with you, Baby?” He shot you a sexy smirk and a lip bite. His eyes started to glow as he saw the imprint your nipples were making through your thin tank top.

“Yes,” You nodded, giving a goofy smile.

“God, you’re so cute,” Eddie said before softly massaging your breasts, kneading them in circles. You ached while waiting for his fingers to swipe along your nipples. When they finally did, you let out a soft moan. “It should be illegal for you to wear a bra, your tits are so perfect,” he growled before pushing your tank top above your breasts. You tangled your fingers in Eddie’s hair before he put his mouth on the bottom of your right breasts. He greedily bit it, sucking on you until it left a hickie. You sucked in air as you felt the shock of pain.

“Fuck… Eddie that hurt,”

“Shut up, you love wearing my bites,” Eddie spat before repeating the process on your left side. “I bet you’re already wet for me,” he trailed kisses down your stomach. When he got to your thigh, he placed another deep bite into the thickest part of it. You cried out in response, almost kicking him. “Let me take these off you,” Words were beyond you at this point so you nodded furiously. Eddie bit into the front of your shorts and panties, his rough hands taking a hold of each side before slipping them off your long legs. He watched intently as he saw a trail of your wetness from you to your underwear. “Just as I thought,” he whispered before licking along your slit.

Your moan echoed through the room, bouncing around your head. The drug you took made every part of you twice as sensitive. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw tiny fireworks behind your eyelids. Eddie threw your legs over his shoulders before he sunk his mouth onto you. You loved the way he flattened his tongue wide to not miss a part of your sex as he swiped up. Your thighs were squeezing the hell out of his cheeks as you felt close to your orgasm.

“Eddie… Baby I’m gonna-“ He heard that began driving his tongue inside you. He needed to feel your walls squeeze his tongue as you finished.

“Mmmm. You’re so delicious baby girl,” You grabbed the collar of his shirt, bringing his face in front of yours. You swiped your tongue along his coated lips.

“I agree,” You giggled as he paused, looking down at you with his big brown eyes. Eddie gave a sudden look of distress. “What’s wrong B-“

“Fuck you’re so hot, I need you now,” He whispered desperately, undoing the strings of his gym shorts. In a swift movement, he flipped you over and brought your legs off the side of your bed. Eddie tried to take his time. He massaged your ass and thighs in his hands for a minute before his impatience took over. He then spit into his hand and spread it over his achingly hard cock. “Are you ready?” 

“Yes, please Daddy,” you whimpered with your cheek against the bed. You took your hands behind you, spreading yourself open for Eddie.

“God you’re so fucking hot,” Eddie said as he admired the sight of your already messy hole. He took his cock into his hand, lining himself up with you. You let out a loud gasp as he slowly pushed into you. “Tell me if you’re ready,”

“I’m ready… Please fuck me,” you breathed. Eddie didn’t take another second. He locked his hands on your hips and began pounding into you. You let out a scream every time you felt the tip of his cock ram into your g-spot. Even with being balls deep inside you, he needed to feel more. He laid on top of your back, pounding you harder into the side of the bed. You could feel his heaving chest on your back and sweat accumulating between your bodies.

“I’m going to cum, Princess. Take it,” He growled before releasing his load into you. His cock slipped out, causing you to leak out onto the bedroom floor. He kissed you all over your back, thanking you for letting him use you.

“God, now I’m fucking hungry,” you giggled with Eddie exhausted, laying on top of you.

[alohajun]

♡ HI, I'M JAEYUN — SIM JAEYUN

jake x gn!reader | wc : 0.7k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, crushes to lovers au (?), mild swearing, angst-ish fluff, realising they are in love | loki's lines : wrote this while stuck in the backseat along with the luggage on a roadtrip, but it was raining and the inspo struck :)

“so, i heard you have a crush on y/n?”

sunghoon spoke, sitting on the chair in front of his best friend, amused at the elder’s wide-eyed expression.

jake hushed the younger, looking around to see if anyone was listening. “dude, not so loud!” he whisper-yelled. “what if the others hear you?”

“we are the only ones in the dorm, bro.”

“ever heard of the phrase, ‘even the walls have ears’, bro?”

sunghoon chuckled, shaking his head at his friend’s words. oh, little did jake know exactly who was listening in on the conversation. the younger male raised his brows in a questioning manner, wordlessly asking the elder to spill the beans.

“okay, fine. i kinda sorta maybe might slightly like y/n,” jake confessed, sighing afterwards. “don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“i won’t tell anyone, i promise.” sunghoon smiled, the smugness in his smile going unnoticed by the elder. “so, what exactly do you like about y/n?”

“i don’t know, man. i like everything about y/n.” the dreamy look in jake’s eyes depicted whatever he felt was more than just a crush, but sunghoon wasn’t about to point that out. “they have really beautiful eyes, and i love the way they crinkle whenever they laugh. i’d do anything just to see a smile on their face.”

“and?”

“y/n is, like, undoubtedly the smartest person i know. they are a total dork sometimes, but in a good way.” jake sighed. “and i mean, it sounds crazy, but i guess i just …” he trailed off, the realization settling in as he looked at his best friend with wide eyes.

sunghoon understood what the simple gaze meant, grinning triumphantly. “you are in love, aren’t you, jaeyun?” he muttered, looking down at his phone subtly.

“fucking hell, i think i am.”

“you heard all that, right, y/n?”

jake snapped his head towards his best friend, eyes widened in disbelief as sunghoon spoke into his phone. he froze upon seeing your name on the call, but felt his soul leave his body when no response came from you.

just absolute fear-instilling silence.

sunghoon bit his lip, regretting his actions as he looked at the elder. “jake, i’m sorry, i–” he didn’t even get to complete his apology, pausing mid-sentence as the brunet ran out of the dorms, not even sparing a second to explain.

sim jake ran — with not even the rain stopping him as he ran outside, trying to find you. he needed to see you. right now. in his defense, he didn’t even know he was signing up for a confession, and he really didn’t want it to be like that. so, he wanted to make things right.

to his surprise, he saw another figure running out of the dorms and getting soaked in the rain, looking like they were searching for someone. and that person was you. jake froze in his place as he saw you in front of him, thanking the weather for blurring his vision — because he knew for a fact he’d never be able to say what he wanted to if he properly saw you.

you took a step forward, equally nervous as you looked at the boy you had the biggest crush on. you never believed sunghoon’s words whenever he told you like jake had a crush on you — at least not until you heard it from jake himself.

and hearing the words from him, you realized that maybe for the past two years; you felt the same. love was such a scary feeling, but all that fear vanished when you thought about jake. you were in love with him, and there was no turning back.

you shyly waved before using your hand to block the rain from your eyes. “hi, i’m y/n, and i’ve had the biggest crush on you for two years,” you confessed, heart threatening to run away when jake stepped closer. “but now that i think about it, i guess i called it a crush, because i was too afraid to admit i was in love with you.” you let out a choked breath, happy tears pooling in your eyes when you were pulled into his warm embrace.

“hey, i’m jaeyun … and you have no idea how happy you made me with those words.”

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[smilingformoney]

Rickmas 2023: Day 14. A Light in the Night | Metratron & Reader

Content warning: suicidal thoughts

Read now on Ao3 or below the cut:

Having a guardian angel was strange. Due to some godly magic you couldn’t quite understand, you never remembered that you had one or why until he appeared, and then it was like you’d never forgotten. So when you looked out of your window on Christmas Eve and saw an unusual light floating in the air, you thought it might be a drone or something until it came closer to you and Metatron appeared in your bedroom, and suddenly it made complete sense.

“Oh, what now?” you sighed.

“Merry Christmas to you too!” the angel retorted with irritation. “All the times I’ve saved your ungrateful arse from making another stupid decision, and all I get is what now?”

“Every time you show up, it’s never with good news. It’s always don’t do the thing you really want to do, [Y/n], or else there’ll be terrible consequences. Never you’re on the right track and good things are coming your way. Can’t you bring me good news for once? Or just a social call would be nice.”

“I don’t have time for social calls, and if I did they certainly wouldn’t be with you.”

“How can you not have time? You’re literally older than time itself.”

“You’re not my only ward, you know. But you are my most bothersome.”

You crossed your arms and huffed. You’d grown up in care after your mother died when you were a baby, and growing up in the system naturally meant you got yourself into a lot of trouble, but you’d always found that fortune brought you a way out of it.

Then, on your 18th birthday, you discovered that fortune hadn’t been a factor at all - it had been Metatron, your guardian angel, secretly protecting you. Once you became an adult he was able to reveal himself to you, and boy did he rip you a new one for all the shit you pulled. Once his rant was over, he’d revealed that the reason you had no idea who your father was was because he never existed - you were an immaculate conception, your mother being the last descendent of Jesus Christ of all people. You didn’t have any siblings, what with her having died when you were a baby, and so you were left to carry the mantle of being the last descendent of Jesus.

All this had been explained to you with many a weary sigh and quite a few expletives. If you were meant to be the last Jesus or whatever, weren’t you supposed to have the best of the best for a guardian angel? Why had God sent you this guy?

“Look, fine, I’m your last choice for new Jesus. Why are you here?”

“For the last time, you’re not new Jesus. You’re just his bloodline, which for some reason I agreed to protect. And you know perfectly well why I’m here.”

He nodded to your hand and the bottle of pills you were holding.

“That’s a one-way ticket to Hell, you know.”

“Sure, like God’s gonna let new Jesus go to Hell.”

“Which is why I’m here.”

“You’re just making me want to kill myself even more.”

Metatron sighed and sat himself next to you on the bed. He awkwardly patted your thigh in an attempt to be comforting.

“Tell me why. I can make your problems go away with a snap of my fingers, you know.”

“Can you fix my brain?” you muttered bitterly.

“What’s wrong with your brain?”

“Dunno. Just doesn’t work properly. Like… there’s something missing. Something I can’t quite place my finger on. And even when I remember all this — I just feel overwhelmed by it all. The pressure of being what I am…”

You sighed and turned the pill bottle over in your hand, fidgeting with it.

“At least in Hell I’d feel something.”

“Pain. Horrible, excruciating pain. Forever.”

You ran a finger down one of the faded scars on your forearm. “Pain helps sometimes.”

Metatron sighed. “Sometimes I don’t understand why He made you so…”

“Pathetic?”

“Human. Not just you, all of your family. You carry pain I could never understand.” You scoffed, and he said, “Do you think Jesus didn’t hurt too?”

You looked up at him then, frowning. “Wasn’t He meant to be perfect?”

“He was. So are you. Perfectly human and perfectly divine.”

“Too human.”

“…Maybe. But who am I to question God’s design?”

“You should always question authority, Metatron.”

“And that attitude right there is why you keep getting yourself into trouble.”

You closed your eyes and held the bottle up. “Go on. Get rid of it.”

“Is this your choice?”

“Yes, just do it.”

Metatron snapped his fingers, and suddenly your fingers were grasping onto thin air.

“I don’t want to come back again,” he said.

“Hate my company that much?”

“You are extremely irritating, [Y/n], and quite possibly the worst choice for ‘new Jesus,’ as you keep calling yourself, out of all of my wards. There’s a lovely farm boy in Tunisia, for example, if only he was a scion - hey!” Metatron winced as you hit his arm. “That would have hurt if I had pain receptors!”

“Well, there’s the difference between you and me, Metatron. That’s why God wants His scion to be human — because we know what life feels like. We know love and loss and fear and pain. We can see the beauty in the little things and the majesty in the big things. We know - I know - that life is horrible and beautiful at the same time. People are cruel and they’re kind and they can be both at the same time. We’re tiny and insignificant - and we’re giants.”

You looked up at him, and he had a strange look on his face. It might have been a smile, but you’d never seen him smile before, so you weren’t sure he was even capable of it.

Outside, the clock struck midnight.

“Merry Christmas, Metatron.”

“Happy birthday, [Y/n].”

“Will you stay a bit longer? I don’t want to forget yet.”

Metatron paused, then nodded.

“Alright. Maybe I do have time for a social call after all. Where do you keep your whisky?”