#and someone made a joke about how she’s stuck with me but she won’t stop bringing it up like

[theemissuniverse]

“YOU HAVE CHOSEN WAR WITH A GOD” LIU KANG X FEM!READER

SUMMARY : To say Liu Kang is in love with you is an understatement. You’re a princess and Kitana and Mileena’s younger sister. You start dating a guy but he doesn’t respect you at all. Liu Kang won’t stand for it. (The lowest of keys inspired by that one “that 70s show” episode. If y’all know know then you know)

WARNINGS : none I think lmao

Liu Kang was absolutely miserable. The Royal family of Outworld once again was throwing a party but this time in celebration for their father’s return. Of course, Liu Kang would show up to pay his respects but there was one small problem: you were with another man.

Now, it took Liu Kang a lot and I mean, a lot to get jealous. Liu Kang was usually always secure in himself but not when it came to you.

Instead you had your hand over this man’s arm. Your lips on him. Laughing at his jokes. It made him feel physically ill.

Johnny had noticed Liu Kang’s behavior and he knew why too. It was because of you. “Come on, dude. You’re the God of literal fire. You totally beat a guard of a palace.”

“Johnny is right…surprisingly.” Kung Lao said. “I have never seen you so nervous around someone before, Lord Liu Kang.”

“If you created this timeline then why didn’t you get her to fall in love with you?” Johnny asked. All his Earthrealm friends looked at him as if he was stupid. “What?”

“Do you not hear yourself right now?” Kenshi questioned him.

Liu Kang sighed. “I created the timeline to allow people free will. If she doesn’t want to be with me then so be it.”

Johnny let out an irritated moan. “You don’t even know. Why don’t you ask her?”

Raiden shook his head. “And jeopardized their friendship?”

Johnny flicked Raiden’s head and Raiden let out an ‘Ow.’ “We’re not talking about you and Kitana. We’re talking about Liu Kang and (Y/N).” He turned his attention back on you feeding your date with some grapes. “There’s gotta be something up with this guy. I don’t trust him.”

“I agree…again surprisingly.” Kung Lao said.

“Looks like we’re about to find out.” Kenshi said as you started to walk towards the champions.

Johnny gave him a confused look. “Look? You’re blind.” Kenshi flicked Johnny’s head and Johnny let out an ‘Ow.’ Kung Lao and Raiden snickered.

“Hey you guys.” You yelled out happy. They all bowed to you and you rolled your eyes playfully. Compared to your sisters, you were laid back. “I told you to stop that.” You then pulled Liu Kang into a hug. “Hey, Liu.”

Liu Kang was always happy with your guy’s relationship. Considering you were a princess and he was a God, the two of you did not act like there was a power imbalance. He hugged you back. “Hello, (Y/N).” He had stuck it in his head to call you just by your name every time he addressed you because you told him to.

The two of you pull away. You motioned over to your date. “This is my boyfriend, Brady.”

Kenshi felt his head and then turned his attention to Brady. “You’re not from Outworld. I can read your thoughts.”

“Strange…” Brady said with a laugh. “Yeah no, I’m from Earthrealm but my business is in Outworld.”

“Pretty interesting move…Brady.” Johnny Cage said, eyeing him up and down.

“Yeah…it is..” Brady said a little uncomfortable.

You listened to the music. The music had slowed up. “I swear they always do this. I’ll be back.” You kissed Brady’s cheek and walked away. “Hey! I said I wanted fast paced!”

It was just the Earthrealmers and Brady. There was a bit of an awkward silence. Liu Kang, as much as he hated it, did not want to be rude and now felt inclined to keep the conversation going. “So, you and Princess (Y/N)?”

Brady nodded. “Yeah isn’t she something?”

Liu Kang didn’t like how he spoke but decided to push it aside. “She’s a wonderful person.”

“Yeah, but sometimes I kinda hate it when she talks.”

The group was shocked at what he said. They all turn to Liu Kang to see his reaction.

Liu Kang looked pissed as ever. Why was he with you if he couldn’t stand you? Liu Kang was madly in love with you. He could listen to you talk for hours. Even if it was literally about paint drying. How could he not? He still tried to keep his composure and offered a fake smile. “Why are you with her then?”

Brady let off a chuckle. “I mean, I figure it’s worth it if I can nail her.”

Raiden was the only one confused by the statement. “Nail her? Like with a hammer?” Kenshi bent over towards his direction and whispered in his ear, explaining to him what Brady had meant. “Oh…”

He wanted to use you for sex? This was crossing a very big line. Though, Liu Kang still tried to use reason. “You should think about that. (Y/N), doesn’t really get into relationships so-“

“That’s not a surprised.” Brady said. When the Earthrealmers waited for his response, he gave them a look as if they should know why. “I mean, she’s an annoying bitch.”

Again, the Earthrealm champions turned back to see Liu Kang’s reaction. This time Liu Kang looked even more angry. They took one step back, knowing what was going to happen.

Liu Kang was a simple man. He did not evoke violence or promote it. Did not believe that fighting was the first resort to anything.

That didn’t matter when it came down to you.

Liu Kang grabbed a hold of Brady’s shirt and made him look directly in his eyes. “Take it back.”

Brady tried to hide his fear. He scoffed at Liu Kang and tried to get him to release his grip on him. “What are you in love with her or something? Relax. You can have her when I’m done.”

That was the final straw. Liu Kang started to feel himself lose control. In one swift motion, Liu Kang used his power to fling him across the party. Brady hit the brick wall and fell onto a table where he then broke it.

“Yeah! Kick his ass!” Johnny said, pulling out a phone and recording. The others gave him a look. “What?”

Liu Kang was not finished. He walked over to Brady and picked him up by his neck. His free hand started to build up fire and he was ready to use it on him until you came along. “Liu Kang?”

The sound of your voice snapped him out of his rage. Liu Kang looked over towards you and immediately dropped Brady. “(Y/N).”

“What happened?” You asked concerned. You then realized that obviously it had to be Brady’s doing because Liu Kang would not attack anyone for no reason. You turned your attention to your boyfriend. “Did you start the fight?”

Brady looked at you like he couldn’t believe you. He stood up from the ground and pointed in the direction of Liu Kang. “Me? He attacked me! I didn’t lay a hand on him.”

You were stunned by the accusation. You turned your attention to Liu Kang, who looked ashamed by his actions. “Is that true? Did you attack him first?”

Liu Kang kept his head down, not daring to look at you. “Yes, Princess (Y/N).”

You couldn’t believe that Liu Kang would start a fight. No. Something was missing. You turned back to Brady. “Okay, well what did you do or say because Liu Kang doesn’t just go out attacking people.”

“Are you serious?” Brady questioned you in disbelief. “You’re picking his side-a psycho, over your own boyfriend.”

By this statement, Raiden decided to speak up. “Brady told us that he was only using you for intimacy and then called you…” He tried to find the right words.

“An annoying bitch.” Johnny helped him out.

“Yes. That. Lord Liu Kang was just defending your honor, Princess.”

Of course you believed your Earthrealm friends. You were beyond angry. You looked at Brady. “I’m an annoying what now?”

Brady looked scared out his mind. If he feared Liu Kang, he didn’t know you at all. “No, no. Baby, I would never. They’re lying.”

Two of your guards had walked up to you. “Is everything alright, Princess (Y/N)?”

You looked between the guards and him. You didn’t even want to deal with him anymore. “Escort him out of here. Make sure he never enters the palace again.”

The guards grabbed onto Brady. Brady tried to break out. “Baby, wait. We can talk about this-“

“No, we cannot.” You leaned in, making sure your eyes met his. “Be incredibly grateful I offer you mercy.”

The guards escorted Brady out of the party. Not without him screaming after you. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics. Then you turned over to Liu Kang. “Thank you for standing up for me. I didn’t know you could get so angry.”

Liu Kang smiled at you. “Only for you.” You smiled a little, feeling the butterflies you always felt for him erupt. Liu Kang gently took your hand. “May I have a moment with you?”

“Sure.” You took Liu Kang inside the palace and all the way to your room. When you made it to your room, you closed the door and looked at him. “What did you need to talk about?”

Liu Kang bit his lip. It shouldn’t be this hard to confess his feelings for you but it was. He didn’t want to ruin any friendship he had with you. “I didn’t just do that because of his disrespect for you…I did it because I love you. I have had feelings for you for the longest but I didn’t want you to feel incline to have them for me or push me away. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you. Every time I look at you, it’s as if time itself stops. I have never felt so strongly for anyone the way I have with you before.” He took your hands in his. “Please, if you do not feel the same, don’t shut me out. I still would like to remain as friends.”

You were shocked by his confession but not at all surprised. You’ve waited forever for him to say that. You pulled Liu Kang close to you and kissed him.

Liu Kang happily kissed you back, deepening the kiss. He kissed you as if you were the only woman in the world.

The two of you pull away. You smiled up at him. “It’s about time.”

Liu Kang smiled at you and pulled you into another kiss. Everything felt right within the world now.

[igotanidea]

Rom-com, doubts and older brother complex : Dick Grayson x sister!reader

„Hey you, how was the movie?” Dick grinned with the brightest smile upon seeing his sister back from the cinema. Said sister however was far from being happy. “Y/N?”

“Yes? I mean, yes, sure, hi Dickie. It was fine, I guess.”

“Oh no.” he muttered

“What?”

“You got that face.”

“What face?!” involuntarily she glanced at the mirror just to check whether her older brother was serious or just trying to prank her.

“Please tell me you are not psychoanalyzing the movie.”

“Psycho…..? What? Me? Pfff, never.” She scoffed

“Mhm. Sure.”

“I’m sorry, what is your problem here, Grayson?” Y/N crossed her arms over her chest in annoyance. “Honestly I came home hoping for some peace and quiet and I feel so attacked right now.”

“Are you doing this… what was it called….?” Dick scratched his head searching for the right word “watcher insert!”

“IT’S READER INSERT!”

“Well, it was a movie, so definitely watcher insert. And you practically admitted you do.”

“I DID NOT SAY A THING LIKE THAT!”

“You didn’t have to. Like I said, you got that face.” He shrugged, absolutely not convinced and unimpressed by her yelling.

“Ugh! You are insufferable!”

“Part of my charm, you know that. Now come on, come sit here and tell me what got you spinning, huh? As a big brother…..”

“Please, spare me the talk about oldest sibling and all the duties that come with it. I can handle my own shit.” She hesitantly perched on the armrest of the sofa, but Dick was not satisfied with that and grabbed her by the waist pulling next to him.

“Come on, sis, don’t be stubborn” he pinched her stomach getting a slap on the hand in exchange “that hurt.”

“Serves you well!”

“Ok, I’ll stop. Jokes aside. Get out of that head of yours and walk me through it ‘cause I don’t get it. You went to the movie theatre to have some fun ….unlike someone we know….. and came back stuck in thinking and, let me put it simply, melancholic. Not really a normal reaction after a young adult movie. It’s young adult, right?” he frowned

“You got that one right.” She sighed “I … I don’t really know. I mean, this movie was as cliché as possible and only confirm my belief that it’s not for me.”

“How come?”

“You know… nice girl, A-grade student, not knowing the bad side of life changes the surrounding, most likely moves out of the small town.  And in the city, she meets a guy, a well-known trouble-maker and more often than not, a womanizer. Of course, she swears she wants nothing to do with him but after an hour or so, couple of fights and few misunderstanding they end up together, most likely in a X-rated scene. And after another half hour, some family drama or demons from the past emerges, but all ends well and you get those fucking singing birds, shining sun, doves and all that shit. I’m so too old for that. And I think I’m starting to get bored with such films.”

“Are you?” he looked at her carefully, voice turning soft not to startle her.

“Yes.” She made a face at him

“Y/n. You say you hate it, but …”

“Don’t you dare say it!” she jumped on the couch and jabbed his chest “Don’t. You. Dare.”

“I won’t. I’ll leave that to you. Come on, say it out loud so we can process that. No one else is here.”

“I’m sorry, since when are you my therapist?”

“Since Bruce provided all his kids with trauma and forgot to equip them with the specialist to fix it. Say it.”

“I wish I have a cliché love story.” She looked down and hid face in hands because of the embarrassment. “But I’m not exactly a material for it.”

“Why not?” Dick asked, grabbing her hands and making him look at her ‘is it because you have four vigilante brothers? That can go well in a movie.” He grinned “I bet Bruce would love a cinematic work of art about himself. Can you imagine the movie “Batman?” Two and a half hours of him brooding on the screen and saving Gotham, all while looking like a sad, tormented cat” he laughed and waved his hands around

“I got this at the manor whenever I want. And when I don’t want as well. So hard pass on that movie, thanks. Jason would love it though. It would give him an opportunity to point out everything wrong with Bruce. And Tim…”

“Nice try, but stop getting off the track. Why do you think you can’t have a love story?”

“Cause I can’t define myself.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Dick’s eyes widened in disbelief “you think you need to put a tag on yourself? My lovely, crazy, irrational, foolish sister…”

“Look Dick, I’m a mess, all right? I can do hundred different things, but cannot excel in one. I start so many projects I don’t finish. I am disorganized, got plenty ideas per minute and it’s extremely hard to keep up with me. I'm stubborn, hot-headed and always need to do things my own way. ”

“So?” he shrugged

“What do you mean by so?" Y/N frowned "I don’t have routine, and apparently I’m supposed to. I’m not the best version of myself, I hate motivational quotes and I’m not sophisticated or elegant or even close to it. Shit, I hate dresses and skirts, my make-up is limited to the most basic one and I don't feel like I'm woman enough.”

“Ok, stop right there.” He cut her off “that last one is bullshit and as for the rest, why in the world would you think that eliminates you?”

“I… It just does.”

“Why?” he insisted

“will you stop this interrogation! Let me remind you, you are not a cop anymore!”

“Old habits die hard.” He blew a raspberry.

“Be a brother Dick. Sock me for wasting your time or hug me, just don’t do this….”

“Do you need a hug?” he asked opening his arms

“Yes, please” she mumbled, diving into his arms and hiding face in his shirt, smelling that familar scent. “This feels nice.”

“Told ya! Oldest brother. Now, since we are taking the comforting approach to the problem… all the things you mentioned are those what makes you, you. All right, pumpkin?” he bopped her nose “you could adopt someone else’s lifestyle, but would you feel better then? Doing all those things that does not seem like they are yours?”

“No…” she muttered

“See? You just keep doing your thing, ok? Cause when you do something that makes you happy, even if it seems like you’re a mess, you’re just glowing and that is what makes you special, you know.”

“Example?”

“You were writing, last night, and you had that focus and spark in your eyes. Nothing but you and your ideas, put in words on the sheet. You were just beaming. That was you. You don’t need to put  a tag on yourself, believe me. It's not a competition or anything.“

"Really?" she pulled back and eyed him, raising one eyebrow "'cause you are absolutely not the one who would join The Bachelor, right?"

"That's irrelevant..." as much as he did not like it, her words made him blush a bit. (did she find that application form he hid under the bed?!)

"Let's agree to disagree" she grinned "I'll importune you for explanation on that matter later. And since we're on the subject, what about....?"

“Do you think me the role model on relationship advice?” he smirked, but a bit of sadness crept in “I made a lot of mistakes and speaking from experience, I can tell you just can’t hurry that. Just keep your mind open?”

"Did you just admit defeat in the romance matter, Dickie?" she mocked.

"Romance? Hell no! Just long-term relation..."

"Don't worry, big brother" she his his shoulder playfully "you keep my secret safe, I keep yours. But still, that’s the worst advice I ever got.”

“Maybe…” he tickled her tummy making poor girl squeal “think Damian would have better one?”

“He’s younger than me, sure as hell I’m not gonna ask him!”

“I’m serious, sis. Once you figure out who you are inside, even if it’s a bit complicated and come to terms with it, everything will fall in place.”

“Still the worst advice ever, but thank you for trying, Dickhead.”

“Doing my best for my little princess.”

“Ugh! Stop calling me that name!”

“You used to like it.”

“I was 7 years old!!”

“All right, fine, hold the fire” Dick raised his hands in surrender “Gosh, for someone who got so much fire inside, you suffer from too little self-value.”

“Four vigilante brothers can do that to a girl.”

“Y/N? I need you to promise me one thing.”

“Shoot.”

“When you get in a relationship you will let me act like big protective brother.”

“You may have to wait a while, but sure, it that’s your dream…”

“How about I play that role in a Nightiwng suit?”

“OVER MY DEAD BODY GRAYSON!”

[ghostsvacuumcleaner]

Shades of Red - Chapter II | 4k

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three ao3 | masterlist ✦ Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x civilian f! reader ✦ Summary: The sole survivor of a terrorist attack that killed over a hundred. The soldier responsible for saving her. He wants to help you, but his own trauma make him withdraw when he wants to get closer and intoxicate when he wants to remedy. He kisses your scars and hopes you’ll runaway. He wants you to run away. But you won’t. ✦ TW: NSFW, explicit, f!reader, little to none f! physical appearence descriptions, canon typical violence, mentions of abuse and trauma/PTSD, bit of gore, mental illness mentions, slowburn;

✦ Chapter TW: slightly obsessive behavior hehe.., just a hint yet; mentions of trauma and violence

A/N: Dropping chapter two because I'm excited to start the real deal of this story! Also, chapter three might take a little while to come out cause I'm working on a request I received; hope y'all enjoy! If anyone's interested in getting into a tagslist just lemme know!

Chapter 02 - Survivor

The hospital room you were in was pleasantly cozy. A large bed in the center, a considerably large television right in front of it and the big window to the left, whose blinds were closed for the time being. There were a few empty chairs next to the bed - you were sure that at some point in the last hours, someone was sitting there, as there was a small vase of flowers resting on one of the chairs. Although you could not see the world out there, you knew it was raining by the sound of the raindrops hitting the window; the sound echoed through your ears in an almost hypnotic intonation as you dissociated.

Your daydreaming was abruptly cut off when someone opened the door to your room. A lady, a nurse, whose name tag said Doris. You shook your head and quickly looked in her direction, your eyes no longer as confusing as before, but equally expressive.

“You’re awake, finally.” She pointed, as she approached her bed with some caution. “You’ve been sleeping for at least fifteen hours since you came here. I was starting to worry,” she said, sounding somewhat caring.

You raised your eyebrows briefly.

“Fifteen hours? Fuck my life…” You whispered, and her face turned into a little grimace in response.

“Language, lady.” she joked, as her hands caringly wrapped your nearest arm and began to remove the tapes that covered your venous access. “How are you feeling?” She asked in a murmur. “I don’t expect you to say ‘well,’ for God’s sake.” she pleaded.

“Well, I’m not feeling any pain at least.” you said. For the first time in those twenty-four hours in which you were silent, your mouth bitter in the metallic taste of blood and the horrible feeling of a cake in your throat, you began to speak. There was still a lot you wish you could say, but felt like you might never get to do it. You could never take the weight you felt on your back, the unsaid words, the pain that grew restless in your mind.

“That 's good. Means the medication is working; you hurt yourself pretty bad let me say,” she commented, still trying to sound as caring as possible. The care that emanated from her made you feel a little better, you had to admit. “but you will be fine. Can you move your leg?” She finally asked, finishing by skillfully exchanging your access without causing further pain.

You looked into your legs, and felt that bitter taste invading your mouth again. Fuck. You didn’t stop to think about it: that wound on your leg, previously partially buried by concrete, was well, very extensive. 

After breathing deeply, you concentrated your energies into the hurt leg. Your face shrugged in a strenuous expression, you were giving your best; your leg began to tremble and the rest of your body too, by the effort. It was as if that concrete block was still there, preventing its movement, causing you to suffer in stuckness.

“It’s okay, you can stop now.” she said, but you were negative and shaken your head with all the strength you could, small tears forming on your red face as you tried to move.

“No. I can do it.” you grumbled between your teeths and closed your eyes.

“Dear, no-” she tried to say, but nothing seemed to be able to change your mind right now.

A little move was all you got, and then the relief. Your breath accelerated, exasperated and relieved by victory, but still concerned by the fact that all you could achieve was almost equivalent to a spasm. Doris sighed.

“Why can’t I move straight?” You asked, your eyes ran into hers with some despair and impatience. "Will I lose my leg’s movements? Will I need to amputate?” You asked anxiously.

“God, girl. No!” She assured you, striking with her head and placing a new tape on your arm. Doris then walked to the end of your bed. “No one will amputate anything. Just see, well,” she started, and pulled the blankets that covered you from the waist down. 

Your expression relaxed, perplexed as you looked at the scarring on your leg. Almost like a crack, in your thigh — it started near your hip, and went up to almost half your thigh in a diagonal angle. It was a red, ugly wound, a crack in your now imperfected shell. It was sewn with the help of so many stitches that you could barely count. “you hit a nerve. It didn’t break, of course, or could barely move this leg, but it hurt and badly. It will take some time for you to recover from it. But you will.” she said.

“It’s horrible,” you whispered, your eyebrows scratched in a sad expression. “I’m horrible.”

Doris looked at you, to the tears that formed in your tired eyes. Her lips were compressed in a line.

“Oh, dear... You’d never be awful, don’t say that,” she whispered. “A scar won’t make you any less beautiful. Got it? It’s your survival mark.” she said, trying to encourage you a little.

You wanted to curse her. You felt angry at the kindness she offered you, for trying to make everything seem less heavy than it really was, but it didn’t seem fair. You knew that this should be some reaction of your mind poisoned by the depression you felt now. 

It would not be fair to discount your frustrations on the only person who had offered you some comfort so far, would it?

No.

Your face formed a smile so weak that maybe it only made her more worried than she was already, but that was all you could do for now. Doris covered you again, fitting the blankets around your body in a very comfortable way.

“I’ll bring your lunch. You’ll need to eat enough to get some energy for your recovery now.” she commented quietly by changing the IV from the support over you. Your eyes followed the whole process attentively.

Although you were grateful for the treatment you were receiving from the hospital, there was only one thing surrounding your mind. The Ghost.

The man in the skull mask who had saved your life. He was nowhere to be seen, you knew that you might possibly never see him again, but the idea that you didn’t even have time to thank him correctly tormented your mind. He was in your dreams while you were unconscious, standing there looking at you, glaring at you with those dark eyes of his. The curiosity of what was hidden behind the mask was hitting you hard this time, the need to see something human in him; the way his eyes seemed to present him as nothing but a machine. He seemed unbeatable, but when he took you in his arms, gently as he could be, like he was holding porcelain - you could only see a human being. And you wanted to see it, you craved for confirmation, that there was a human beneath the mask and that this human was just the way you pictured him to be. Or perhaps the complete opposite. You liked surprises, and fairly - you just wanted to see him.

“Where are the soldiers? You know, those who took me out of the building.” You curiously asked, cleaning your throat. The nurse's eyes wandered around the room in search of the small window that turned out to the hallway, she could not see anyone there, a confirmation that they might have been there before but not anymore at the moment. “I didn’t have time to thank him.” you whispered.

“Ah yes. Of course. Captain Price said he would call you when you were feeling a little better. Do you want me to give  them a call?” Doris asked kindly.

“Yes, please,” you agreed.

━ ⟡ ━

Soap was watching the news on TV in the town hall of the headquarters. His eyes were attentive, his ears well opened; he heard the television reciting for the thirteenth time that day those words that echoed in his mind, "hundred and two dead." The news anchor was saying something about the intelligence’s inability to detect the terrorist threat before the bombing occurred. Massive criticism of the military staff responsible for national security; people were in panic. How would you feel safe after that?

After the 141 left the building back to the headquarters, the British intelligence team searched the ruins of the disaster looking for any indication of association of some terrorist group known to the incident. At first, nothing. Bombers usually leave no traces but a blast of blood and human flesh everywhere.

But then, an agent left the building with a piece of semi-destructed cloth in his hands. It was almost incomprehensible but soon they discovered a symbol in it. And to the most absolute disappointment of all, no soul even recognized the symbol in question. A new terrorist group.

Fuck.

While the population was hiding in fear, the press was rendering a disgrace to society and introducing even more chaos by spreading information that should be confidential. Soap was too distracted with their babbling to even listen to Price and Ghost’s conversation in the background. 

“She will need physiotherapy, and a good time to recover.” said the captain, releasing some smoke from his cigarette into the air. “She apparently suffered a nerve injury.” 

Ghost had his arms crossed, resting on the wall behind himself, facing Price. His eyes were fixed on the ground, as if he was thinking of something.

“I can imagine.” he whispered, with a head nod. “I hope it goes well. What these guys did there...” he closed his eyes and snorted, seeming nervous.

“Yeah... The press won’t give anyone no peace now. I get nervous just to think.” he grumbled as he threw his cigarette butt into the ashes. Ghost only shook his head negatively, in disapproval; in accordance with the captain’s speech. 

The silence that followed Price’s last words did not last more than five seconds before he spoke again.

“She asked about you.” he said, raising his eyes to Ghost. He was looking back at him this time. It was as if his words had caught his attention now. “Said she wanted to thank you personally.”

“She doesn’t need to. I just did my job.” he argued, pulling his back off  the wall and pulling one of the available chairs around. As he sat down, he grabbed a piece of a disassembled rifle that rested on the table, and went on with his work to clean it.

“I know that, but work sometimes involves accepting a bit of gratitude from other people for what you did for them, Riley. In this situation specifically.” Price raised his eyebrows, and watched the gun as Ghost cleaned it, his concentration quickly diverted from the conversation to the work he was doing. “You should go see her.”

“With all due respect, captain, I think the job of talking to the victims is anyone else's but mine.” he replied almost instantly.

“Maybe, maybe. But she wants to talk to you.” Price insisted.

Ghost released an annoyed, almost annoyed breath. 

“She doesn’t have to thank me. I know she’s grateful,” he tried to argue again, but the captain seemed irreducible for the moment. “Bloody hell, Price, hire a psychologist for once. She needs help, not to talk to me.” he continued, receiving nothing but silence in response.

“She wants you.” Price said, simply, unfazed by his upset behavior.

Ghost immediately stopped what he was doing and left the gun aside, the hand

supported on his knee, once again an uncomfortable breathing leaving his nostrils in a surely irritated mood now.

They would not understand. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you; there would be no reason for it, no. Ghost didn’t want to see you again. He followed the whole moment the ambulance left you in the hospital along with the rest of his crew, was informed of your situation, and like all other soldiers, he was discharged after that.

His job was to rescue the victims who survived the attack. Not to talk to a victim, sketch some sort of feeling – even if it is false. He would need to say something, comfort you, or at least try to look positive. He would have to face the idea that getting in touch with your trauma could remind him some more of himself, could bring back past memories he wanted to bury. There was no good in it, no. He wasn’t a therapist, wasn’t built for it.

Although he wanted to, he couldn’t feel compassion for you. He couldn’t feel sorry – He thought it was an extremely illegitimating, invalid feeling. Affirming that someone was worthy of pity was almost like treating someone like garbage, no; he would rather die than have others pitying him, why would it be different with the people around him? He wasn’t the right person for that.

As if the universe laughed at his face, the moment the conversation between the two became silent and he raised his eyes to the television, the image of the building's debris was replaced by one of the only survivor of the attack; a recent photo you had taken in London, two months ago. You were smiling, you could still do that at that time. The screen displayed your name, while the reporter was now talking about you.

“It’s her; poor girl.” Soap said, turning a little to observe them, and turned up the volume. The news said something about your success in keeping yourself alive: you were treated as a great achievement, called a ‘miracle girl'; they were talking about you as a poor little girl, about how clever you were, in college studying to become a prestigious doctor. Ghost squeezed his jaw, his teeth gritted in a bitter taste inside his mouth. There was no miracle in what happened to you.

You were lucky. You were in the right place, at the right time. 

Two hundred people did not have the same luck.

A hundred and two people, men, women and children, were now dead. You had eternal marks engraved on your skin and soul. A miracle? He felt offended as if he were with himself — as if they were calling him a miracle for having survived all the painful events he had experienced so far.

“How dare they say this kind of thing?” he grumbled lowly. The other two shrugged their heads in denial, in disagreement.

“Fucking vultures.” it was Price’s turn to complain.

━ ⟡ ━

You had turned off the TV the moment you heard your own name. There was no reason you’d want to know, to to hear what they had to say about you. You didn’t want to hear them treat you as a mere victim of an incident, acting as if that disaster was all about you that mattered. You hated the way everything seemed to be reduced to that now: the attack.

The survivor. The only survivor. Your name didn’t matter anymore – you had become a martyr, and everyone treated you with caution, as if you were made of glass, as though it was impossible to get close to you without the risk of breaking it.

Since the silence established itself in the environment when you turned off the TV, all you heard was the static silence floating in the air, sound of little drops that flowed through your veins. Your mind had become vague, your thoughts made room for your imagination, you slowly fell asleep. There was a long time after you felt unconscious - you weren’t sure of how much exactly. Maybe two, maybe three hours. You had asked Doris to open the window before she let you rest alone in your room, and the wind was hitting your skin, still sensitive due to the excess of meds; the subtle cold you were feeling was making you feel alive.

The lights were off, and as soon as it became dark, the lights of the city reflecting through the window were no longer enough to light up the room belongings.

In that intense darkness and in the most absolute silence possible, the ghost that haunted your dreams was standing, tall as always, at the end of your bed. Haunting you. Silent like a snake approaching a possible victim, even his breath seemed to be controlled enough not to make a noise. His eyes, behind the mask, fixed on you; you slept quietly in a heavy sleep that was obviously the result of the strong medicines you were taking. He approached the bed a little, your hand was laying in your body side by the bed. So small.

Drop.

Drop.

The sound of the drops of IV falling through the bag invaded the environment as if it were the sounds of a giant walking. The big night silence had this effect on small sounds – it enlarged them. You heard the sound of the window closing inside your dreams, but that didn’t seem to wake you up. The cold wind no longer hit your skin, and you began to warm up.

How long has passed since the sound of the curtains closed you could not say; but what awakened you knew: it was the sounds of the door opening. You instinctively frightened and adjusted your posture in bed a bit abruptly, until you realized that the man who was entering — now unarmed though still dressed in his combat suit — was him. The Ghost.

He watched you in silence for a few seconds before shaking his head.

“Did I wake you?” He asked, the same serious and rough voice, the loaded British accent, different from your American one. “Forgive me.”

“You’re all right.” was all you could think of answering in the first moments. His eyes looked at you altogether; he was so tall that only his presence there made you feel intimidated, even if that was not his goal. “Don’t you want to sit?”

“I don’t intend to delay myself much.” He responded quickly, getting a little closer to the bed and sitting on one of the chairs next to him just to match your heights a little, imagining it should be uncomfortable for you, bending your neck to look at him standing. “Do you need something?”

“No. I’m fine now,” you whispered, sitting down. “I just wanted to thank you personally. I didn’t have time before, I- I just don’t think I was in good senses for it.” you admitted, holding your hands together on your lap.

“I just did my job.” he nodded, a serious air to his words. Ghost seemed like a man of few words, of few feelings too. His tone was monotone, always serious, seemingly stern sometimes. Made you feel like it was perhaps due to his habit of giving orders; he was a tenant, as Price told you. You knew little about the military hierarchy you had to admit, but the little knowledge was enough for you to know he did give orders. 

“I know, but... What you call ‘job’, to me was saving my life.” you seemed to try to remind him as if it was something obvious. “If I have any way to reward you for that, please tell me.”

Ghost closed his eyes for a moment and stretched his neck, shooking negatively.

“Again, I just did my job. You don’t have to reward me for that.” he said, looking at the flower vase that rested on the headboard table for a moment.

Simon noted that although there were thousands of gifts and tickets on the outside, sent by ordinary citizens in support of your situation - there were no balloons or any indication of a family or friendly gift inside your room. Only those flowers.

They were addressed to Anthony Miller. He assumed it would be your boyfriend.

“You don’t get it, Ghost. It’s not  about needing, it’s just something I want to do. It doesn’t have to be right now, you can tell me in the future if you need a favor or something like that.” 

“I don’t usually need favors.” he assured, snorting at your insistence, but trying to stay as polite and friendly as possible. He didn’t want to end up making you worse, did he? You were already sad enough. 

“Everyone needs favors. I also used to not need many before yesterday’s events.” You admitted, raising your eyebrows quickly and turning your gaze away.

“I didn’t do you a favor. I helped you, those are completely different things.” He shook negatively, irreducibly. “Any other decent soldier would do the same. You owe me nothing.” 

“Yes, but it was you. If it had been someone else then I’d like to thank this person.” you argued, and your stubbornness began to irritate him; he gave in compassion to your state and only sighed deeply.

“That’s all you have to treat with me, miss?” He asked, turning his head a little, and you corrected him; do not call me lady, you murmured, and instructed him to call you by your name.

You watched him in silence for a few seconds, before breathing deeply.

“Actually no. I have a request.” you said, in a whisper, and he shrugged his head as if giving you a positive one. “Can I see the face behind your mask?” You asked curiously.

“Negative.” He answered, almost immediately, without even giving you a chance to try to refute or argue. “I can’t show my face, and if it relieves you if anything, it’s not a nice image to look at,” he continued, rising up.

You were a little desperate for his sudden rising, hoping he would stay a little longer. Of all those people with whom you had talked so far — Price, Doris; he remained the one who seemed to please you into a conversation the most. You wanted to talk to him, because, unlike others, Ghost did not treat you like a porcelain doll.

He was treating you like any other person. 

“No, wait — you think you’re ugly, is that so? I don’t care.” you assured. “I doubt you’re ugly, to be honest.”

“I didn’t say that,” he raised an eyebrow, seeming to have your commentary somewhat amusing. You raised an eyebrow in response and laid your body on the pillows behind you.

“Wouldn’t you open an exception for me?” You asked, and he shook negatively. You closed your eyes, in a frustrated but accepting sigh.

“Well- you get well soon. Hear me, girl?” Ghost gently said, and walked a little further to the door, and stopped in his steps before leaving. He looked at you for a moment. “Are you here alone?”

“Yeah, I am. Why is it?” You asked curiously.

“Because your IV is running out, and without those pain meds, let me tell you...” he raised his eyebrows quickly. “Should I call your boyfriend or a nurse?” He asked, glaring at  you.

“Wait- my boyfriend?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows for a moment, and he remained silent. His hand stood up and pointed to the flowers next to the bed, as if he mentioned that the person who sent them should be your boyfriend. You eyed the flowers and let out a soft laugh.

“Ah, that... No, it’s not from a boyfriend.” You explained.

“Well, I’ll call some nurse then.” he said, his hand leaned on the door knocker and his fingers danced in unison, in a thoughtful expression. He looked at you again. “Stay safe.” he said, before his huge, broad figure disappeared through the door and the long hallway of the hospital leaving you once again lost to your thoughts, and alone.

Your eyes looked at your own hands for a few seconds, and you realized that they were pleasantly warm. You looked out the window, closed.

How strange was the fact that you didn’t remember having closed the window, thought to yourself. 

It could have been Doris. But your intuition said no.

[beastofburdenxo]

Raising Catherine chapter 3

Catherine has turned 18, and things are getting complicated. MINORS DNI 2k words

tags: masturbation, Voyeurism (Tommy is literally a peeping Tom), use of alcohol, possible non con if you squint.

It was Catherine’s 18th birthday. Tommy decided to take her on a picnic like they did when she was little to celebrate. Just the two of them. It was a nice sunny day out as he laid out the blanket and she took the sandwiches and other snacks out of the basket. “Happy birthday, love,” proclaimed Tommy as he pulled a little box out of his pocket, “A little something for my not so little girl.” Catherine opened the box to find a little ruby pendant in the shape of a heart, with a petite gold chain. “Oh Tommy,” Catherine cried out, “You shouldn’t have! It's beautiful!” He took it to help put it around her neck. “Thank you so much I love it!” Tommy kissed her forehead, “You’re welcome sweetheart, every woman should have at least one good piece of jewelry, eh? I saw it in the store window, and I just knew it belonged around your neck.” Catherine was so giddy about her new gift, and it brought joy to Tommy to see her like that. He loved making her happy, regardless of if others thought that he was giving her special treatment. He thought that she deserved it, after all, he made a promise, didn’t he?  

“Oh, won’t be long now and you’ll be leaving me behind, eh?” Tommy joked. Deep down he knew that one day she would, and that brought him deep sadness. “Oh, stop it Tommy, I'm just now 18. You act like you’re some ancient old man just withering away!” Tommy laughed, “Well dear I am pushing 40, sometimes I feel older than that.” “Well, you don’t look it,” Catherine replied, “Who knows, you might get married off before I do! You might just be leaving me!” Tommy was married years ago, before she came into the picture, but his wife suddenly died. He doesn’t speak of her much, but paintings of her are all over the house. “I’m sorry Tommy,” Catherine finally realized what she said after a moment of silence, “I know it’s a sore subject for you. Forget I said it.” Tommy gave her shoulder a soft nudge, “It’s okay, love. Being married feels like a lifetime ago. I’ll always love her, but I know she would want me to be happy with someone and marry again if I so choose. I'm not against it, it just hasn’t happened. Besides, why on earth would I marry and leave my girl behind, eh? You are stuck with me I’m afraid.”  

A comfortable silence follows as they begin to dig into their food. “Would I make a good wife, Tommy?” Catherine suddenly asks. Tommy almost chokes on his sandwich, “Y-Y-Yes you would,” he manages to sputter out, “You are smart, funny, talented, respectful.... And quite the beautiful woman.” Catherine turns away at this, as she doesn’t want him to see how flushed her face is at his compliments, “Any man would be lucky to have you, love. Why? Is there someone in mind?” Tommy asks lightly, not wanting to let on that his blood is boiling. He isn’t ready for her to marry off. “No, I was just wondering.” Tommy puts on a small smile at this, “Don’t worry too much about it, love, you have plenty of time for all that. Focus on your schooling, you are almost done. Top of your class, eh? My smart girl?” Catherine throws a grape at him; he dodges it with a laugh. “Plenty of time,” he thinks to himself, “Plenty of time, relax Tom. No need to take your gun out again. Relax. She is still yours.” After the picnic, there is more celebrating to be had at the Garrison. Arthur snuck Catherine a shot of whiskey, “Just between us, yeah? Tommy would have me shot if he found out.” With a wink. Polly baked a beautiful cake, and everyone had a great time.  

That night at home, after a few more drinks snuck under the table, Catherine made her way to Tommy’s bedroom. He was still up, sitting in bed with his usual paperwork. “There’s the birthday girl,” he exclaimed, “Did you have fun today?” Trying her very best to walk right, she made her way closer to him. “I-I-I did, Tommy,” she managed to get out, the whiskey was starting to get to her head. “Can I sleep with you tonight? Pleeeease?” Tommy raised his eyebrows at this, “Now Cathy dear, you aren’t 12 anymore, it’s inappropriate to share a bed with me now. You are grown, what if the maids find out? What then, hmm?” Sitting on the bed to keep from falling over you chuckle, “Who cares? If they tell you can just fire them, right?” Tommy swats her with his papers, “Catherine Michelle, you know better! What has gotten into you?” Coming closer to her he smells it, “Have you been drinking?! Damn it, Arthur!” This causes her to fall over with a case of giggles. Tommy takes off his glasses with a sigh, “Alright, get in. Only because you’ll probably be sick in the morning.” Catherine clumsily makes her way under the covers. “Go straight to sleep now. I've got a busy day tomorrow. And from now on you will sleep in your bed!” Catherine curls up next to Tommy, trying her best to hold back her laughter, “Well of course Mr. Shelby sir.” Tommy just rolls his eyes with a smile, “Good night, Cathy, I love you.” “I love you too Tommy, no good night kiss?” Catherine cackles. “Oh, for God sakes, go to sleep!” 

It was a long night for Tommy. The whiskey put Catherine right out, but he just couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t stop looking at her, she looked like a little angel next to him. He knows that he fussed at her, but deep down he wouldn’t care if she slept with him every night. And she was right about the maids, they could easily be fired. He loved having her next to him, even in an innocent way like this. Things could easily be not so innocent; he could just reach over and take her at any time. But he showed restraint. She deserved better than him, even though at the same time he wanted no one else to have her. Let's just say things have gotten complicated since she’s gotten older. He decides to get up before the restraint wears off and try and do some work. At his desk, thoughts of her in his bed keep running through his mind. Catherine lying there in a little silk nightie, beckoning him to her. Him sliding the straps gently off her shoulders as she steps out of it for him. Gliding his hands over every inch of her body. Her smiling at him as she undoes his pants for him.... “Stop it,” he thinks to himself, “Just stop it, Tom. It's wrong to think like this.” But it’s too late, his body has reacted to his little fantasy. His erection out and proud, demanding attention. From Catherine specifically.  

“Just go over there and take her,” a little voice demands, “She is pretty much yours; you’ve scared every other man in town. Give her what you know she wants from you!” While arguing with the voices in his head, he is oblivious to the fact that he squeezed his pen so hard it burst. Ink is all over his hands, and his paperwork. He notices his hands and throws the pen across the room in frustration. “Tommy...” A little voice comes in the doorway, “I woke up and you were gone.” Catherine walks into his office rubbing her eyes. Tommy scoots his chair up just in time to hide his problem. “Sorry love couldn’t sleep. Thought I'd do some work and made a mess instead.” Holding up his dirty hands, “Do you care to go get me a wet rag sweetheart? Before it dries.” In the time it took catherine (still half drunk) to get a rag and come back, Tommy managed to calm himself down. It's a good thing too, because when she made it back, she pulled his chair back and plopped down on his lap. She grabbed his big hands and proceeded to try and wipe the ink off. “I’ve got it, go back to sleep love.” He told her to try to get her away in case of another surprise appearance, but she wouldn’t hear of it. “It’s alright, I've got it. You’ll wind up getting ink everywhere.” She looked so cute on his lap, drunk and sleepy while still trying to concentrate on his hands. “You’ve got something else for her to concentrate on, eh Tom?” the voice teased, making him tense up. He lightly pushes her off his lap, heart racing. “Go on to sleep Cathy, it’s late now, eh? You need to sleep the rest of that whiskey off.” She stands shakily, putting the rag down on his desk. “Tuck me in?” she asks, her eyes big and sweet. Tommy can’t take much more of this. “Go. Now.” he points sternly across the hall, “Don’t make me carry you like a sack of potatoes.” This causes Catherine to pout, but she leaves like he asked. But, not without mumbling, “You are mean Mr. Shelby.”  

Many hours later, or what seemed like it, Tommy decided to try and sleep again. His hands are still slightly gray from the faded ink, he assumes he’ll have to wear the rest of it off. Reaching the doorway, he sees Catherine lying in his bed, moonlight coming from the window making her glow. She is breathing heavily, at first, he thinks she’s in the middle of a drunken nightmare. Then he hears it, A soft whimper coming from her lips. He can’t see one hand, but he sees the other squeezing her breast. She is neither asleep nor having a nightmare. She is masturbating. In his bed. He stands frozen, watching her. Catherine’s big eyes are closed in pleasure as her hips start to rock. Tommy doesn’t know what to do. Does he ignore her? Help her? Leave? With all honesty he wants to watch her, especially since they are now alone in the house. The maids left hours ago. He is afraid that she will eventually notice his shadow looming in the doorway, so he sneaks into his own bedroom. Her eyes are still closed, back softly arching exposing her hard nipples through her gown to him. He grabs the cover while she is still at work, and slowly pulls it off her. Her pale legs spread in the moonlight for him. He moves to the corner farthest from her, hand now in his pants at the sight of her.  

Tommy can hear just how wet she is in the silent room. He is fascinated by every sweet sound she makes. She is just so pretty. Just for him. He times his own strokes with hers, biting his lip to stay quiet and hidden from her in the dark. “Tommy...” Catherine whispers, “Tommy...” Hearing this causes Tommy’s eyes to roll back as he silently comes all over his hand. She was touching herself to the thought of him. She was for sure his now. In a moment of pure bliss, she cries his name one last time as she comes all over his sheets. Her whole body was shaking. Tommy can’t take it anymore; he must go to her. He fixes himself and goes to bed, taking her in his arms. “Shhh, Shhh,” he coos in Catherine’s ear, “That’s it, I'm here now.” He rubs her back as she comes down. “My angel, thinking of me, eh? Such a good girl. I love you so much.” Catherine is still quite drunk and doesn’t realize that he watched the whole show. “I love you too, Tommy. Will you tuck me in now?” With a chuckle he replies, “Yes sweetheart, but let me clean your hands first.” He goes to get a warm wet rag and now it’s his turn to clean her up. He puts the cover back on the bed and puts her underneath it. Catherine scoots over for him, and he sits right on the wet spot she made. He lies in it with a smile. Knowing that she is his just as much as he is hers. She just may not remember it tomorrow.  

[ruhorih4ra]

Good night! 🐏 I came from hell to bring you a slightly unhinged Mc heheh. It's a little bit dark, violent too. (Poquito 🤏🏻)

Also kind of poorly edited jasjajsja

Part 11.

Get out of my way 🌈

Lilith sat down and patted the ground beside her. “Sit down with me, please.” You obeyed and silently prepared for what you knew would come next. “Lili-” She raised her hand. “Four.”

Thursday

The self proclaimed yucky otaku followed you like a second shadow, he didn’t try to approach you or something of the sort, he was just there. Admittedly, that was surprising, Leviathan had left his comfort zone to come everyday to RAD and attend as a normal student would.

“I didn’t remember Levi being so shy, it’s kind of cute.” Lilith was walking beside you but her eyes were on her brother.

You decided to tease Levi a little. “Fancy meeting you here, Levi. I thought you would be stuck in your bed.” His eyes lit up, he seemed happier than ever. “Ah, I thought you would stay in the house of lamentation since Lucifer gave you a free week but then you weren’t there and I had to come and made sure you were saf-” He started rambling at an incredibly fast pace, nervously playing with his hands and avoiding eye contact. “Leviathan.” You cut him off and he flinched, you had called him by his full name again. “I’m sorry. It must be annoying to hear a useless shut-in otaku like me.”

“It is. It is pretty annoying.” You said indifferently. Leviathan wasn’t expecting that. You always reassured him and showered him with kind words, this time you seemed cold and distant. “Leviathan?” You called him, he couldn’t meet your eyes, too afraid to see repulsion in them. “Y-yes, Mc?”

Lilith grumbled and shook her head. “No, no, no. Forget it. Just ignore him, please?” You could have obeyed Lilith and ignore Leviathan, let his harassment pass you by like water flowing in a river, but the truth was that you wanted to irk him. Your second player, who left you when no longer needed you. “Should I sew your mouth? Can’t you understand that nobody cares about whatever you have to say?”

Lilith gasped and balled her delicate hands into fists. Levi’s gaze didn’t leave the floor, he knew your sadistic side, it would be a lie to say he didn’t enjoy it. However, this was different. You were different. You got closer to him, waiting to meet his eyes. “What are you waiting for? Go back to the hole of pity you came from, Leviathan.”

You weren’t expecting what happened next, but he met your eyes. “I know you don’t mean it.” He said. Curious, you always tried to comfort Levi. Always trying to improve his non-existent self-esteem through compliments, and every time, he was quick to dismiss them and insult himself instead. Yet, the one time you tried the opposite, he refused to acknowledge it.

“I know you’re mad and I deserve it, but,” You took Levi’s hand in yours, interrupting him. “I mean it, every single word. I assure you.” You smiled at him. “You’re going back to your room in this instant and you won’t come out until someone comes looking for you, let’s see how much they care.” Leviathan felt a rush of magic creeping up his spine and forced him to move, an order, you had given him one. “M-mc?”

When Leviathan was out of sight, you murmured, knowing full well that you were acting like a jerk. “You don’t seem too preoccupied, Lilith.” She shook her head disapprovingly. “My brothers love Levi, he won’t be trapped for too long.” Maybe Leviathan’s refusal to believe you had provoked you, maybe you were tired, but you felt no satisfaction. Instead, you felt the need to hurt him even more. “Maybe I should order them all to let him rot, how fun would that be?” The former angel’s head slowly turned towards you, her eyes analyzing you from head to toe. “Hahaha! Just kidding. You don’t know how to take a joke, do you?”

“‘You don’t know how to take a joke, do you?’ That’s what you said.” “Okay, okay, you win. Stop.” You got up and paced from one place to another. “You’re exaggerating, they’re demons. Are they supposed to get hurt by a few insults?” You were trying to convince yourself but Lilith’s presence proved to be effective. You turned your back on her, you could no longer deny what you had done, but at least you could try. “I did it because I was hurt, but I never crossed the line they crossed.” You confronted her again. “What do you have to say about that, uh?”

Lilith didn’t stutter, her face had gradually lost all traces of warmth and kindness. “I’m not here to save them. I’m here to save you.” She walked with determination, something changed in her features and you knew what she remembered.

When she spoke, her voice came out strained. “You almost crossed it, remember?” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, but your resolve was crumbling. “Not even close.” You responded with hostility.

Lilith lift her hand. “Five”

Friday.

“Hey! Don't pretend to be asleep! I know you're awake!” You nudged the demon of sloth but he didn't drop the act. “Belphegor!! Stop! I don't want to find you lurking in my dreams again, you hear me?” Finally, he opened one eye slightly and replied with not much interest. “I'm not 'lurking'. You're just dreaming of me... you’re welcome.” He smirked and you felt the sudden urge to strangle him. You'd have if it weren’t for Lilith's laugh.

She was looking at her brother fondly. “He never changes! I miss him so much!” She was playing with Belphie's hair and you found a twisted amusement at the thought of the younger brother being unable to see his dear sister even though they were so close.

You also remembered Belphegor's face on a bad day, when he dreams of that fateful day. The way his face contours to display the most pure expression of pain and suffering. How he hugged you with uncontrollable shaking. “It hurts like the first day. It hurts so much and never stops.” He barely takes a breath when he sobs again. “I miss her, I miss her so much. I can’t even say her name.”

You swallowed and felt sick. Why would I enjoy Belphie's pain? You, who loved him so much that willingly put your own life in danger just to free him. What's wrong with me? Intrusive thoughts were invading your mind, maybe you were becoming a horrible person, perhaps the brothers knew what they were doing when they replaced you.

He was looking at you with sleepy eyes and a yawn escaped him as you announced. “I'll go then.” as soon as you spoke he got up, sleep quickly leaving his body. “Wait! Don't go!” you wanted to put some distance between your pain and his, it was ironic but you wanted to protect him.

When you turned around, you bumped face to chest with Beelzebub, he was arriving to the attic with his hands full of snacks. “Are you okay? I'm sorry.” You tried to leave but he was determined to block the way. You looked at him, he pretended to be clueless, an act that seemed almost innocent in him. “Beelzebub?” you questioned. First, he seemed surprised, but guilt took over when he refused to let you go.

“They want to apologize, Mc! Please have compassion!” Lilith said, alternating glances between you and Beelzebub.

“Don't go, you need to sleep well or you'll get cranky.” Belphie took your hand. “I would sleep well if SOMEONE wouldn't show up uninvited to MY dreams!” You let go of his hand. Beelzebub, who had been quiet until that moment, tried to calm the growing tension. “Mc, I brought you your favorite snack. Let's eat together, please?” You saw the snacks and a current of indignation traveled through your body. You took one of the bags and showed it to the ginger. “These are not my favorites! These are Sc's favorites!!”

Before Beelzebub could answer, his twin was already protecting him. “He wasn't talking about those, silly.” Belphie took another bag and showed it to you. “Well, I don't want it.” You said, hiding the embarrassment of your assumption.

“Now you're only being petty” You and Belphie exchanged grimaces while Beel intercepted again. “It's okay if you don't want to be with us, MC.” even if his smile was gone and you could see his puppy eyes looking at the floor. “But you have to eat, you seem skinnier.”

“Mc! Look at them! Please, have mercy!” Lilith begged. It was then you knew you had to leave the room, because even Lilith's sad face was inciting you to go on a rampage.

“It's okay? Nice, get out of my way then.” You said to Beelzebub, tapping your foot anxiously. “Oh please! Those are Sc's favorites and these are yours!” Belphie said, he handed you the bag but you refused to take it. “Beelzebub.” You knew the gigantic demon was close to give in.

“Take it!!” Belphie said, irritated and you obeyed. You took the bag just to throw it back at him. “Give it to Sc, you spoiled brat!” Belphie's eyes widened, frowning with something that seemed close to incredulity. “What? Did it hurt? I hope not enough to suffocate you!” Everyone went silent and in that short period of time you wondered "Where is Sc?"

“Mc! Stop! Please, won't you listen to me??” Lilith's pleas were gradually becoming more desperate. Belphegor seemed to have lost all his will to fight, silently looking at the floor. You would have been stuck staring at him, if not for Beelzebub, who took your hand. “What's wrong MC? What's happening?” you looked at him dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

“Those things, I know you wouldn't say that unless something was wrong.” He seemed sure of himself, eyes full of resolve and faith. “Nothing is wrong.” You wanted to cry but tears wouldn't fall. “I love you, MC. We all love you. You protected us and I want to do the same.”

You held his gaze for a few moments, a lump forming in your throat the longer you looked into his eyes. “Could you please...” your voice broke mid-sentence. “Could you please repeat that?” Beelzebub took your face in his hands. “We love you. I love you.” you felt Beel's lips kissing your cheeks, his fingers wiping your tears. “Hey! I'm still here you know?” Belphie said.

As Belphie took Beelzebub away to scold him and rant about egoism and the pros of sharing, you stumbled away in distress. “Lilith?? I can't.” your voice sufficiently low to avoid the twins' ears. “Mc? What's wrong? You can't what?” Lilith murmured, even though nobody but you could actually hear her. You furrowed your eyebrows. “I-I can't feel anything.”

Your sadness quickly turned into rage and this time the twins noticed immediately. “Mc?” Belphie asked. You looked at them with hate. “It's their fault, I lost my soul because of them!”

“Mc! Please, dear. Listen to them!” Lilith stood in the way. Beelzebub took the arm of Belphie, apparently convincing him to give you time and distance. You took advantage of that brief moment to speak to Lilith.

“Say please one more time and I swear for your dear father that I'll order Beelzebub to chop his twin’s head here and now.” Lilith's eyes widened, even though she was a spirit, she could have sworn her pulse increased, you didn't look or sound like yourself. Your soul wasn't bright and warm, it was gray and cold.

Your eyes were consumed by your own hatred. Lilith tried to find a sparkle of mercy in them, but she averted your eyes before drowning in that cruel ocean. “Understood, dear?” you mocked her and she simply nodded.

You were ready to leave but something stopped you, Beelzebub had taken your arm. “Mc, I know you probably don’t want to hear me say this, but I’ll always be there to save you.” you laughed. “Oh please, what could you possibly know about sav-” “No! Please!” Lilith tried to push you, she knew it would be impossible for her but the impulse to help her brother was stronger than logic.

You stumbled back not due Lilith's phantasmal push but because Beelzebub’s anguished face. You didn't say the whole thing, but Beel wasn't an idiot, he knew what you meant. “Let them go Beel, we don't need a petty lousy human.” Belphegor pulled Beelzebub’s arm. “We have Sc after all.”

You felt as if someone was taking the air out of your lungs, a sharp pain in your chest impossible to describe. At least you had Belphie to thank, you still had a soul, a heart to break.

Belphegor knew he had ruined it as soon as he saw your trembling lip. It wasn't his intention to hurt you again, he was just annoyed by your bratty attitude. He loved you, why would he sneak in your dreams if not? He made sure to fabricate the most beautiful dreams he could think of, putting your favorite things in them just so you could be comforted. Do you even know how much energy that costs? But he did it for you. Only for you.

But as soon as he or one of his brothers appeared you would wake up. Why? Do their mere presence repulse you? Did you stop loving them so easily?

Belphie tried to get closer, but Beelzebub blocked his path, facing his brother and giving you his back. “Beel, what are you doing?” Belphie asked bewildered, the demon of gluttony didn't utter a word, only looked at the floor.

While their wills fought, your anger grew and with it the desire to harm them. It was so prominent that you felt the urges of vomiting, your head felt heavy and your vision blurry. Lilith tried to take your hand, but it disappeared when she touched you. “Oh no, Mc, this is wrong. We have to go.”

You turned your attention to Lilith and spoke in a cold, calculating voice. “What did I tell you was going to happen if you said ‘please’ again?” Lilith was confused, trying to recall your previous words.

Slowly, the eyes of your ancestor widened while a lump formed in her throat. She knew she was dead, there was no uncertainty about that. However, she could feel herself dying again, her breath caught in a silent prayer. Your soul was as black as she had never seen before and the color of gold danced in your eyes while your smile became similar to that of a Little D. “Beelzebub.” You said, still looking at Lilith, studying her every move. “Are you hungry?” You asked, a little laugh escaping your lips.

Lilith knew it wasn’t logical, but she was growing dizzy, weaker. “NO! I’M SORRY! DON’T!” She drowned in her own words. “MC!” She cried, standing with open arms before Beelzebub.

Beelzebub felt it before he even saw it, a shiver ran down his spine and when he finally looked at you, all his alarms went off. “I’m not.” He said, shielding Belphie from you. The action didn’t go unnoticed and only fueled your rage. “Hahaha, are you protecting Belphegor from me? A demon protecting another demon from a human… how unsual.”

Lilith was hitting your chest, crying desperately. “Beelzebub, you do look hungry.” You said in a melodic voice. Beel couldn’t believe what was happening, not again. He was being forced to choose between you and his twin. You hadn’t utter a threatening word but he could sense your intentions. You read him like an open book, his eyes, his posture, everything.

“Don’t worry, I’m not like your coward little brother.” You answered sharply before turning around and leave the room, this time no one tried to stop you.

Belphegor fell to the ground and silent sobs came out of him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry Mc.”

Beel was left standing, a vicious feeling of emptiness that he has known all his life set in, but this time it wasn’t in his stomach, but in his heart.

Pt 13? ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ

Taglist: @sadlily1 ♡ @yuumaofc @kodasstar @asmolover1234 @gallantys @prefesro @urminebutidontwantyou @fiveofspades @owl778 @unknownbish101 @pinkvelvetcake1 @bontensbabygirl

[okkalo]

hellooooo. could you pls do a scenario of reader unintentionally hearing bllk boys singing for the first time and finding it cute? ft. rin, kaiser, isagi, reo, nagi pls. TYSM LOVELOTSSSS

hi anon! thank u for the request and i hope u enjoy

characters: rin, kaiser, isagi, reo, nagi

rin

- i want to go dad rin for this one but i won’t 😣

- jk i changed my mind.

- i feel like this is one of the only scenarios you could catch him singing

- ok so you’ve had a lot on your plate recently and rin noticed and told you to take the night to yourself and let him handle yua (ifykyk;))

- and so that’s exactly what happened

- once you had enough you-time you immediately wanted to check on yua

- rin was a great dad and all but it just felt weird leaving yua for so long

- quietly, you snuck to her room, knowing she was probably already asleep

- it came as a surprise when you instead saw rin holding her while sitting on the rocking chair, singing her a small song

- your heart? MELTED

- you tried your best to not gasp so you could enjoy the moment for a little longer

- rin, however, noticed quickly </3

- he set the now asleep yua back in her crib before walking over to you, acting like he didn’t do anything out of the ordinary

“welcome back, how was it?” rin greeted with a kiss on your forehead. he pushed you both away from yua’s room so she didn’t accidentally wake up due to your whispers.

“rin, you have the prettiest singing voice and you only use it for yua,” you looked up to him with a pout on your face. you watched the different stages of rin’s realization show on his face. at the end he was covered in blush, looking away while speeding up his pace to go to your shared bedroom.

“rin! you should start singing to me sometime! and slow down!”

“shut up or you’ll wake up yua,” rin warned from basically a mile away from you. yeah, he didn’t slow down nor did he look at you for the rest of the night.

kaiser

- i feel like he sings a lot when doing tasks

- like chores? there’s a good chance that he’s singing

- he always sings low though, so it can be hard to tell

- it’s always absentmindedly too!

- so you noticed it pretty quickly into your relationship with him

- he was opening a few boxes he got from some companies he partnered with and some fan mail that had made its way into the pile when he was once again singing

- meanwhile, you had wanted to sneak up on him

- which, was going well until you abruptly stopped in your tracks at his low smooth voice

- that’s when he noticed you, completely oblivious to your earlier actions

“what’s wrong, liebe?” he questioned, his attention all on you now. a small frown made it’s way to your lips at the lack of his singing.

“were you just singing?” you asked even though it was obvious he was, just hoping he would go into more detail about it. a smirk appeared on his lips at the question, now turning his body to you.

“yes, aren’t i a good singer? do you want me to sing to you, my little bird?” he got closer with each word until his lips were next to your ear, letting out his seductive whispers. as much as you didn’t want to, you went red at his teasing, giving him a pout before pushing him away.

“you can’t say that when you have someone’s love letter to you in your hand!” you fought, both you and kaiser’s gaze dropping to the card with a heart on it. maybe it was bad timing.

- btw he’s not a good singer. he’s just full of himself.

isagi

- any song that has a catchy tune will get stuck in his head and he sometimes sings it out loud

- he has sang body by megan the stallion once because aryu played it as a joke

- but anyways you guys had the idea of creating a shared playlist the other day

- and isagi had been cleaning the dishes with a song stuck in his head

- and lucky for you, you caught him in the act

“isagi, are you singing a song from our playlist?” you recognized the love lyrics the song had. his eyes widened in shock, not even realizing his earlier singing, before turning to you with a red face.

“yeah, it was one of the songs you added,” he admitted sheepishly, hand going up to his nape, “it’s been stuck in my head recently.”

you only smiled at his shy confession, turning off the water to the sink before wrapping your arms around his neck. you both met for a gentle kiss, before going in for one more.

“you have a good voice,” you told, a smile now forming on his lips as his cheeks turned into a darker shade of red. instead of another sappy sentence, he met you for another kiss, this one longer than the rest.

reo

- he’s not much of a singer at all

- meaning it’s VERY rare to see him sing

- but when a song has been stuck in his head for awhile he slips and lets his singing voice out

- this time the song had been a slow one, really accentuating his nice vocals

- it had happened when he was filling out “boring” paperwork, naïve to his own singing

you snuck up on the purple-haired male, making yourself known by snaking a gentle hand up his back, resting your head on his shoulders. you had even gotten a startled jump out of him in the act.

“what’s wrong?” he questioned, head turning so that his still widened eyes met yours. you only have a chuckle at his reaction, your smile easing his tensed body.

“you should sing to me some more, you have a good voice,” his eyes widened once more before a smile made its way on his face. his arm slithered around your figure, pulling you to sit on his lap.

“so you heard, your wish is my command,” he whispered before planting a kiss on your nape, eyes going back to his paperwork while his singing voice started up again.

nagi

- he would hum a lot of game background music

- it was rare to hear him singing actual lyrics, seeing he was not the best music enjoyer

- however, if the song is from a game it’s more likely to happen

- you both had been laying together on your shared bed, doing your own things

- nagi had opened his game and it reminded him of the one song he heard from them

- so naturally, he started singing absentmindedly

- while you were like ????

- you probably thought it was his game at first because you never expected nagi to be singing??

“nagi, is that you?” you questioned, confused if he was just lip syncing or actually singing. once he processed your question and his lips stopped moving, you had your answer.

“yeah,” he answered, not knowing what else to say. his focus stayed on his game, showing his lack of care at your new discovery.

“keep singing, you sound good,” you snuggled up to him, head resting on his shoulder as your eyes fell to his game. his body gave you easy access, a natural response of his for his love of cuddling.

“too much of a hassle,” he sighs, a light stroke of pink coating his cheeks. he secretly loved that you were impressed. so much so, that he might just start singing again later.

unedited thanks for reading!

[estrellami-1]

Soft Touch Baby

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Pt 12 | Pt 13 | Pt 14 | Pt 15 | Pt 16 | Eddie’s POV | Song | ao3

Robin wiggles around excitedly. “I like the sound of this.”

Steve rolls his eyes. Still can’t look her in hers. “I kinda cried all over him, Robs. Literally nothing romantic or suave about that. At all.”

She wiggles again. “Okay, yes, but the emotions! Tell me!”

Steve sighs, but they both know he’d never deny her anything. “He just kinda… held me. And then when I finally pulled back, he didn’t actually stop touching me.” He knows she can see the blush he feels rising on his cheeks. “And, uh. He made me pancakes.”

“Oh my god. Steve. What time was it?”

He’s pretty sure his blush is all the way down to his chest now. “Like three.”

“Steve.” Somehow his name has eight syllables and lasts twelve seconds.

“Yeah. We didn’t finish them all, so I stuck them in the fridge and we went back upstairs. He, uh, followed me into my room.”

Robin grins. “And into your bed?” His lack of reaction is answer enough, and she shuffles excitedly again.

“Then I wake up, and it’s way too early, and I’m really comfortable, and I realize sometime during the night I kinda octopused onto him. And, uh.” He bites his lip again. Takes another bite of ice cream. “He was holding me, too. But I’m an idiot, so I moved, and he woke up, and…” he shakes his head. “He asked if I was awake. God, Robs, his face. Y’know that face someone makes when they wake up and it’s bright so they’re kinda halfway smiling?”

“Yeah?”

“That. So he asked if I was awake, and I shook my head, and he, uh. Pulled me back down. I don’t think I’ve ever fallen asleep faster. Then I actually wake up, later, and he’s playing with my hair and oh my god Robin I want to date him.” He bends over the ice cream. Robin giggles again and pushes him up via a palm to his forehead. “So I remind him we have more pancakes, and we just kinda mess around some-” he catches her look and presses the ice cream carton into her thigh, relishing in her yelp. “Not like that, Robs, Jesus. We’re joking around, and then we get serious, and I’d said earlier how I slept really well, and so just then he says that he slept really well, too, and we kinda made an agreement that if we needed it, or… or something like that, we could call each other. No questions asked.”

“You know this, like, way crosses any sort of platonic line in the sand there once was?”

Steve snorts. “I kinda assumed, yeah. So he left, I dunno, something about the band, and I immediately called you. And now here we are.”

“Here we are,” Robin agrees. “Steve.”

“Robin.”

“I’m really happy for you.”

The blush is back. “Thanks.”

They put in the movie, quoting as much of it as they can. About five minutes in, it turns into an unspoken competition. Steve wins. He’s not sure Robin doesn’t let him.

She leaves with the movie after it finishes, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “See you later?”

“As you wish,” he grins, laughing when she groans.

He turns around after closing the door and sighs. Alone isn’t his favorite thing to be, so he puts in a random cassette as he cleans up.

He doesn’t wait by the phone, doesn’t linger as he’s heading upstairs to go to bed, doesn’t unplug the phone and carry it up to his room. Except in all the ways he does.

The phone doesn’t ring that night. The next morning, Steve very carefully doesn’t feel anything.

A few nights pass before he wakes up gasping again, screwing his eyes shut and pressing the heels of his hands into them. He mutters a curse before sitting up and reaching for the phone.

It rings just as he touches it. He jumps a foot in the air, heart hammering in his chest all over again.

He answers, taking a deep breath as he picks it up. “Hello?” He curses the way his voice shakes, hopes the caller won’t notice.

“Come over?” Eddie’s voice is small.

Steve breathes out in relief. “Yeah. I’ll be right there.”

“I’ll unlock the door.” The line clicks off.

Steve breathes in. Breathes out. Grabs his keys and walks out.

The radio’s playing quietly as he starts his car, and it’s a welcome distraction from his thoughts. He leaves it on, turns it a little louder, taps along to the beat on his steering wheel, nods along. Quietly sings some of the words he halfway knows.

He’s at Eddie’s trailer before he knows it, walking right in like he knows Eddie was hinting at, making just enough noise he won’t startle him.

He’s sitting on the couch, staring at the blank TV, before slowly slotting his eyes over to Steve. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Pt 11

Taglist:

@thegingervulcan @snapshotmaestro @the-redthread @tiny-enthusiast @thatonepotatochild @maya-custodios-dionach @imsociallyanxiousgetoverit @vhelt @newtstabber

[neptoons1998]

Future & Past

Summary: Riri gets stuck in the past and she meets a younger verison of her mama.

Tag gang: @mal-urameshi @xblackreader @s0lam3y

Riri wasn’t sure how she did it but she thinks she traveled back in time. I am never trusting Dr. Strange again, the young scientist thought as groaned from the ground. She looked around to see the park she would go to with her mom alot as a child. Riri started fiddling with her beads to send a request to go back home. Let’s hope Shuri is super genius about this one Riri’s cruel humor is too consumed with getting back to her time. She heard sniffles like someone was trying desperately hard not to cry but it was a loosening battle. 

Riri couldn’t believe her eyes couldn’t help but stare at the pregnant woman, who was sitting on a bench, in front of her. Riri couldn’t help but be a little shell-shocked seeing a young adult version of her mother. She knew like most adults that Okoye had a life before Riri came into the picture. The young engineer couldn’t help to feel very off-putting seeing a younger version of Okoye. 

“A-are you alright?” Riri questioned her mama. No matter what timeline Riri will always love her mama. Okoye quickly brushed away tears from her face. Riri’s stomach twisted she had never seen her mama cry before. 

Frustrated, mad, and happy.

 Never sadness. 

Okoye gave a watery laugh, “No, but I’m sure Bast is having a good laugh.”

Certain things don’t change Riri thought as she had heard that expression too many times as a child. 

Riri twisted her fingers, “Do you want to talk about? I love jokes.”

Okoye looked at her, whether to see if she should trust her or not. Riri guessed her mama thought she didn’t have anything to lose to tell her woes to a complete  “stranger”.

“Well I finally told the man that got me into this condition, “ Okoye said Riri could see that she bit into her cheeks, “And he said he wanted no part of it. Which is so cruel to call her an it.”

Riri’s heart broke hearing this. Riri never knew who her father was. Anytime she wanted to know, her mother would have a sober look to her which made Riri’s curiosity die down. The young woman decided around the age of twelve that’s one discovery she was okay not knowing. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Riri said as she wrapped her small hand in her young mom’s hand. Okoye gave a soft smile, “What makes it such a cruel joke was that he wanted a huge family, but apparently I wasn’t supposed to be the one.”

The pair sat in silence before Okoye’s eyes let the tears cascade down her cheeks, “Am I that unloveable?”

Riri’s eyes widen twisting her body to look at Okoye’s, “No no you’re not.”

Riri had to stop herself from making a wormhole or not being born. Riri knew later down the line her mama would fall in love with Attuma. That shark man loves her mama more than anything.

“You just can’t rush it. P-plus that guy was a jerk anyway,” Riri commented, “I need you to believe one day just not today that there is a man who will love you. It would so much love that you won’t know what to do with it.”

Riri wiped some of Okoye’s tears from her face, “And there whole bunch of love you can have right now. Like with her.”

Riri pointed at the round belly of her mama. Riri tried not to think how trippy it was to know that she was in there. Being a whole fetus. 

“Really? She won’t hate me for not giving her a father?” Okoye questioned as she rubbed on her stomach. Riri nodded cause she did love her mama. 

“I’m sure she’ll understand,” Riri answered. Okoye smiled at the thought of her future daughter loving her just as much as she loved her. 

“Thank you, Priestess,” Okoye said before Riri could correct her on not being. Okoye left the bench to go bother Aneka and Ayo. 

With that Riri’s bracelet started to beep before she was sucked back to the right timeline. 

“Took you long enough,” Riri teased her girlfriend. Shuri rolled her eyes before coming closer to her. 

“Just never trust a doctor not from Wakanda, hm?” Shuri joked as she pressed a soft kiss on Riri. 

“Riri?” Okoye’s voice out making the pair break apart. Okoye with her hands on her hips. 

“Mama!” Riri rushed to her side giving the woman a surprised hug. Riri knew now that her mama was being loved, but just knowing for a time her mama thought she was unlovable still stung Riri. 

“Ah,” Okoye wrapped her arms around before stroking Riri’s hair, “What’s all this about?”

“I’ll tell you later on tonight,” Riri said as she continued to squash her cheeks on her mama’s chest. Okoye ‘hm’  at Riri’s request. 

Riri will always love her mama from the stars and back. 

[themultifandomgal]

Warning long post/ rant about Colleen Ballinger. If you don’t want to read this then please feel free to ignore but if you want to rant away with me then be my guest. If you guys know what’s going on and have opinions then let me know. Let’s talk about her shit show of an apology.

First of all the whole thing was just clearly aimed towards her young fans to make them feel bad for her, she did it in a song to make it easer to consume and unfortunately it’s kinda catchy so it’s going to be stuck in everyone’s heads. Children are so impressionable. The human brain doesn’t actually fully develop until your mid 20s so you can only imagine how the brain might be working at ages 9-16 (I don’t know how old her youngest fans are)

“Toxic gossip train. Chugging down the tracks of misinformation”

Where? What misinformation? Your giving us no evidence! Explain it to us then?

“Tie me to the tracks and harass me for my past, these rumours look like facts of you don’t mind the gaps I won’t survive in the crash, but hey least your having fun”

Stop with the woahs me attitude. If they’re as you say rumours then why is there photo/video evidence of the things you’ve done and said? What gaps? Are we talking about how in your first apology video you made it out that Adam asked you for the underwear and it was his fault? Not that you and Corey literally asked if he wanted them? Oh and even if you were joking around why did it never occur after that sending a 14 year old underwear (no matter your age) is fucking weird? How did that not cross your mind when you had weeks to think about it. You even said his parents would think it’s weird so why do it? Also who the hell is having fun? I know Adam isn’t and Becky and anyone else you’ve hurt.

“Today I only want to talk about the facts”

Well where are they? You didn’t tell us anything except you want a pitty party!

“Many years ago I used to message my fans, but not in a creepy way… more of a looser type of way”

Errr that’s still creepy, wanting to best friends with under 18 year olds when your 30 odd….. did that not cross your mind? Oh wait no of course it didn’t.

“I haven’t done that for years you see… I took accountability”

Weren’t you in a group chat with miners up until like a week ago? Oh and when did you take accountability?

“The train is made of lies”

Wait so we’re they mistakes or lies?

“I would never make a mistake like that”

Your right we wouldn’t because we know talking to underage children is wrong whether your intention is ‘innocent’ or not because it isn’t. There’s a huge power dynamic at play that I can’t see that you weren’t aware of or if not you someone around you.

“She did some things I do not like in her past so everybody gather round because we’re about to attack but not based of facts”

Ohhhh so you didn’t ask Adam (a miner at the time) to send a pic of his ass? Oh wait…

Well you didn’t tell these kids all about your messy divorce did you? Ah ok erm….

Ok but you definitely didn’t talk about your husband penis size…Ah shit.

Hmmm ok then these one is a no brainier. You definitely didn’t ask KIDS favourite sex positions because everyone knows that you just don’t do that… oh you did? Oh

Let’s move on shall we?

“I also wanted to take a moment to talk about the Miranda girl…. shes PG13…..that’s why you won’t find my videos on the YouTube Kids app”

Erm I think you’ll find that you can find Miranda content under ages 5-8 so before you tell us these ‘facts’ maybe you want to check them out first. Just a thought?

“Was it my intention to manipulate”

Ah so you admit doing that?

“I’m not a groomer, I’m just a looser”

Your both. Grooming someone doesn’t always have to be sexual. Also imagine if that will hold up in court!

“I’m not a predator even though a lot of you think so, because 5 years ago I made a far joke”

It wasn’t just a fart joke. You asked an underaged girl to come up on stage. She was wearing a romper and you spread her legs. At no point did you or any other adult stop it or even try to protect this young girl at all. She said she felt violated and awful and your just say with your ukulele undermining what YOU put her through calling it a FART JOKE. It’s not a joke. None of this is and anyone who thought this was ok is sick!

“I never had any bad intentions, but I do feel like shit”

Oh well then we all forgive you for being inappropriate with minors in privet group chats and on your YouTube channels.

I haven’t even spoken about half the other shit that she’s done like letting a 9 year old put his hands down her trousers for a ‘bit’ or how horrible her book is, or how she laughed about having to have her dog out to sleep. This whole thing was just a slap in the face. I felt like she wasn’t being serious at all! To all of you who have been effected by Colleens harmful decisions, I am so sorry and so proud of all of you who have shared your experience. To those not ready that’s ok don’t feel pressured to have to open up about anything you don’t want to.

I’m going to leave some videos and channels to check out about this. The first one is SWOOPs deep dive which will have a hell a lot of sources and information. Sending you all positive thoughts!

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[queenvalruna]

I’ve Got You

Hermione took a deep breath and brushed her curls away from her face. Her curls were particularly unmanageable with the humidity exiting herbology class. She wrapped her scarf around her neck almost like it was armor stuck at her chest straightened her back and March forward to what she ultimately knew was likely humiliation. She stepped past rows of bookshelves towards Draco Malfoy who was scrutinizing the bookshelf quietly. After a moment he seemed to realize that he was being stared down and turned to meet her eyes with a guarded expression.

“Hello Malfoy.”

“Granger.” He nodded his head in Confusion.

“I… I know this is rather out of the blue, but after thoroughly going through my options I found that you're the best option to help me with a ….” she stammered “handicap in my education that I have thoroughly been neglecting. One that I would quite like to keep on the down low.”

A deep breath.

Remain calm Hermione he’s not a death eater anymore.

She continued.

“If you agree I would make it worth your time I only ask that it remains discreet.”

Draco Malfoy’s face looked quite funny at that moment and Hermione suppressed nervous laughter.

“Granger …. what exactly are you asking me to help you with.” His eyes were wide, and he was blinking as he slowly placed the book back on the shelf.

“FLYING” It just came stumbling out very fast, an outburst really and she looked around quickly to make sure she hadn't upset Madam Pince. She was already on bad terms with the librarian over spilt coffee on a book she really shouldn’t have been handling so early in the morning.

Her hands were shaky after the war.

He let out a sigh of relief and a laugh which was certainly not the reaction Hermione had been expecting.

He wore a much more familiar expression on his face now. A confident half grin that fit right in with the sincere amusement of a cat who found a mouse cornered the new had all the time in the time in world. She thought to herself how much better it was than the new withdrawn and quiet Malfoy who hid in the library and dark corners of his classroom. That cocky smirk that made him punchable now also made her more comfortable around him. Returning to Hogwarts after the death of Voldemort, and without Harry or Ron already made her feel alien and alone, but seeing someone like Malfoy quiet and considerate? Bizarre didn’t really cover it. Why did she come back?

The library most defiantly the library.

“And why, pray do tell …would Hermione Granger suddenly wasn’t to learn to ride a broom.” Faint amusement.

She had already prepared this answer.

“If your really curious about that Malfoy, that story can be the favor I exchange for lessons.” She said haughtily.

She watched his expression guard itself as curiosity glittered in his eyes. He leaned against the bookshelf and crossed his arms looking down at her. She had him.

‘Alright I’ll meet you at the entrance of Hogsmeade this Saturday. Don’t make plans for that day I take training seriously; I trust you have access to a broom?”

“Well actually…” He waved his hand for her to stop and rolled his eyes.

“I will acquire a broom and some goggles, wear something warm.”

“I didn’t realize you were quidditch realize you were quidditch captain…”

“Absolutely not. But Flint was rough, and it was easier not to scare off new teammates when I helped. I won’t throw a personal dust devil at you and tell you to catch the snitch.” He grinned and Hermione was disturbed to realize she had no idea if he was joking or not. “I promise you Granger if anyone’s going to be able to get you in the air its me.” A devilish grin and she rolled her eyes.

“Alright …thank you Malfoy.” She quickly turned-on heel and left somehow even more nervous than before.

Saturday

Saturday approached both antagonizing slow and far too fast. Hermione had checked out several books; Quidditch through the Ages , Fly or Die , The Origin of Wood Enchantment , Magical Transportation and Brooms and Witches : A Love Story . yet she felt no more enlightened. If anything, ‘Fly or Die’ had her paranoid and Brooms and Witches had her slightly disturbed for the author. She supposed she knew nothing would really help her with her problem.

Taking a breath of the cool brisk air today in a fluffy red knit sweater and apricot colored knit hat she knit herself (and was rather delighted with) she shoved her hands in her jean pockets and walked proudly forward crossing the castle grounds and onto the trail that led to Hogsmeade. She could easily apparate once past the castle grounds, but she decided to walk. It’s not like she was out of shape after running so much all year.

She thought of Malfoy and his ease in which he agreed to the lessons. She knew his inquisitiveness was a weak point of his but as she analyzed their conversation back in her head it did seem rather easy. Maybe he still had a mean streak, and this was just a prank waiting to happen. But then again neither Harry or Ron was there to make it worthwhile, and the rivalry was most defiantly a boy thing. An Immature, childish boy thing and she supposed it was now a immature childish man thing.

The autumn leaves were particularly picturesque, and she was appreciative of the chance to enjoy them and already glad she decided to walk. Nature was charming when you weren’t meandering through it and avoiding werewolves and death eaters.

Death eaters.

Death eaters like Draco Malfoy.

A gust of wind of dark memories and autumn leaves wrought havoc. She took a sad sigh and swept an escaped curl out of her eyes and tucked it back in her hat looking ahead to the little stone bridge that made the entrance of Hogsmeade.

There he was Draco Malfoy. She blinked at the image, startled. He was there. That was no surprise it was just… It was just peculiar. He stood there leaning against the bridge (did he really need to lean against everything?) with the light of the sun behind him making his hair glow like a halo while autumn leaves floated around him. He looked warm and golden for a pale Slytherin boy who wore a lot of black and slept in a subterranean dorm room. His features angular, symmetrical and angelic without a cocky grin or a sneer. She wondered what he would have been like if he had been sorted into Gryffindor suddenly and the weird sadness, she felt at the thought snapped her out of her senses. Her empathy always got her into trouble, and she wanted a very trouble-free year. Maybe for the first time since she was eleven.

As she stepped nearer, she observed the two brooms he had leaned against the wall with him. One was black and looked like a customized make because of course it was and the other she recognized.

“Is that a Clean sweep Eleven?” She was excited to recognize anything remotely broom related.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Of course, you recognize this one.” He murmured.

She had never seen Ron so excited for a Christmas present than that year. A smile tugged on her lips as she took the broom Draco handed to her as she fondly remembered Ron racing around bragging about how he was going to pulverize Malfoy at quidditch with it. He would be so furious about this situation. She felt slightly guilty suddenly like she was doing something sneaky, and, in a way, she supposed she was. But just because Ron was her boyfriend didn’t make him her keeper and anyways, she was getting the lessons as a surprise to him anyways.

“Alright you have your broom.” He threw her a pair of goggles. “Your eye safety. Follow me.” She did as he veered off the road from Hogsmeade. They walked through annoyingly tall grass that left some burs in her sweater and through a pumpkin patch ripe for harvest, and to an open flat field that looked to already be mostly harvested. Different species of pumpkin maybe? They grew so many pumpkins in Hogsmeade valley.

“Why out here?” She looked at the wilted vines under her feet and picked sticky-burs from her sweater with a grimace.

“You’re the one who asked for,” He looked at her with a crooked smile “ Discretion.” He said it with a tilt to the head and she struggled to handle that look without throwing an retort at it.

“Why not the quidditch field? It’s not always being used.”

“Actually yes, it is. Either by madam Hooch who might I add would have given you lessons, or by any kid with a broom from home …because imagine this Granger. Flying is fun.”

“Well, if you must know …I did.” She muttered. This seemed to strike his interest.

“Know flying is fun?” His face lit up.

Her eyes rolled.

“She rejected you?” He looked baffled.

“Well, no…Its just. she was going to have me join the second years.”

His face was expressionless for a moment as the statement settled and the expression of mirth on his face before he roared with laughter was as unfamiliar to her as everything else about the situation. He couldn’t seem to stop himself either and he leaned over gasping trying inhaling air sharply and exhaling warm mist and laughter.

“I always did favor Madam Hooch!” His cheeks were flushed, and she seemed drawn to the smoke coming from his lips suddenly as his smile shifted to her. It reminded her of his namesake. Luckily, he didn’t notice where she was looking as he wiped a tear of laughter from his eye, and she looked away horrified at the closeness and took a step back.

“What I would have PAID to see the golden girl flying around and being shown up by twelve-year-olds. I probably would have gone broke. Then I’d have to pensive the memory so I could watch it over and over.”

“YOU WILL NOT PENSIVE ANY OF THIS.” She Roared like the mascot of her house and Malfoy raised his hands up in surrender. She realized she may have been a tad aggressive, but after the last couple of years she never wanted to hear the word pensive again.

“I won’t I promise. It’s not like they lay those lying around anyways. What a waste of time.” He cleared his throat suddenly and was suddenly all business. “Now Granger, give me a rundown on all you know. You had a whole year of mandatory flight lessons you can’t be wholly ignorant around a broom. You were one of the first ones in class to master accio after all.”

“Was I?” She had no clue she barely remembered her first flight class.

He coughed. “Of course, you were, when weren’t you the first one to master a spell in class. You were such a god damn show off.”

“What?! I was not! I simply…” He cut her off uninterested.

“Just tell me what you know.” Business Malfoy again. She felt her body warm in frustration and if she was a Weasley without a doubt she would have been an entire shade of red by now.

She took a deep breath and exhaled her cut off comment into silent autumn air where it remained silent.

“I can summon a broom; I can fly a broom up to about fourteen feet. I can turn right well. I struggled with left, and I can go up to about thirty miles an hour?” She heard the doubt in her voice as it got fainter and weaker at the end.

“Fourteen feet?” He said in disbelief.”

“Honestly I get really nervous when I’m just that high.”

“There’s no way you didn’t go higher than that , I would have known.”

What?

He cleared his throat.

“I would have known because I would have absolutely tormented you about it.”

She slapped her palm to her face. “You were already tormenting Neville, then you especially got competitive with Ron and then when you were in quidditch the next year, mind you thank goodness for Neville. He was so afraid of you! He was so sweet and timid, and you had to destroy every chance and building confidence he had every chance you got.” Draco Malfoy at least had the good sense to look ashamed at that moment before masking the expression.

“So, your problem is a fear of heights not that you don’t know how to fly.” He said it with a monotone voice as if trying to chew on the words and digest them.

“Yes essentially.” she admitted.

“You just haven’t had enough time around a broom. Madam Hooch’s class were half broomology and maintenance anyway. As for the difficulty with the broom going left, that was a model issue with the ‘shooting star’. Today I’m just going to watch as you practice what you remember.” Draco stated. Hermione felt her eye twitch at the thought of floating around a pumpkin patch with Malfoy just watching her like an infant learning to walk but she did ask for this, so she pulled back her hair and tied it up, strapped the googles onto her face and mounted the broom and urging her mind to focus just like she did with her wand she urged it to go up.

She Immediately felt weightless and marveled not for the first time over the cushioning charm and how effective it was without disrupting balance. Magic was such a marvel. She Immediately felt butterflies and a cinching in her spine as her nerves warned her that humans were not intended for flight when they didn’t have wings. She pushed past that summoning the lioness inside of her and muttered softly to the broom “Up.”

She slowly floated upwards past Malfoy’s head and didn’t feel any of the fear she remembered and started to laugh wondering if she had just wasted the Slytherins time, and then she looked at the horizon growing longer and longer as she floated higher and higher.

“Granger! Stop right there!” She looked down on him and he had gone from reasonably far away to suddenly ant like sized. She knew she wasn’t that high up and yet she felt like any moment she could touch a cloud.

Her spine was tense as string on a violin, and it felt like one would snap any moment as the fear sunk in. She clenched down on the broom hard and swallowed but ended up forcing the broom handle up to her chest somehow rather than bring her own body closer to the broom which turned her quickly from horizontal to vertical. Her legs slip downwards, and she was soon dangling from her grip on her broom. She panicked screaming.

“DRACO GET ME DOWN!” She screamed at the top of her lungs in absolute horror. As the broom started to attempt to just adjust to her needs. She had forgotten the model’s gesture enchantments and realized with horror that the broom thought she wanted to go higher. She screamed in abject terror.

Down below Draco launched himself on his own broom and through the air and was suddenly there gripping her arm and then pulling him to her as Hermione was still holding the broom and tried not to let the handle smack into the face of her rescuer.

In fact, she was flailing around her body terrified of letting go of the broom as the back of her brain was telling her if she let go, she would die. And she was being grabbed midair by a previous death eater, the tattoo visible as the sleeve of his arm was pulled up trying to pry the broom handle from her hands.

“GRANGER!” A yell. The memories of a burning sensation of magic cutting into her.

“Granger your fine.” His voice softer now not accompanied by green flashing light all around.

“I’ve got you.” She blinked and focused on the present. She was positioned in Malfoys lap somehow in midair while he held the broom stick in one hand and leaned back, the other arm wrapped around her who was clinging to his chest like a small child. They were on his broom side saddle, with one leg wrapped around the shaft of the broom keeping everything in balance as he lowered the broom to the ground. He was flying like only an expert could.

An invasive thought entered her mind ‘Why is it always quidditch guys?’ Before she flicked it away, she was clearly not in the right state of mind.

He looked down at her with the clear expression of worry, his face flushed with the exertion of throwing himself into catching her so quickly.

“Thank you.” She squeaked out, more than aware of the coiled muscle in the arm holding her and, in his legs, as they balanced them both. The smell of him made her dizzy, it was like a green apple. Then she rationalized herself quickly.

No it’s not the smell of him making you dizzy you ninny, it’s the fact that you’re latterly in the air and almost fell .

She flooded her mind with thoughts of Ron and the smell of cinnamon, butterbeer and Mrs. Weasleys apple pie.

He let out a low chuckle that she felt through her.

“As usual I underestimated you, how did you outdo Neville from our first flight class?”

The broom was finally touch-down distance and she quickly removed herself from Malfoy embarrassed glancing and the broom that had been tossed and fell not far away.

“I hardly broke my arm. It’s just…the control on thar broom is weird.” she muttered. She had to admit she was much worse at this than even she realized.

“Thank you for trying, I’m so grateful you gave this a chance .” She almost picked up the broom in panic before realizing she didn’t bring it and didn’t meet him in the eyes as she attempted to quickly remove herself from the pumpkin patch and forget the whole thing. Forget Ron and the romantic French countryside on broomstick, she was not doing that again.

She felt her arm grabbed as she tried to detangle a long piece of grass from her sweater.

“Hermione wait.” She spun around like she was hit in the face. She wasn’t sure why it felt like that.

“I made a promise and I’m going to keep it. You can’t just give up from a little hiccup.”

“I almost fell from Merlin knows how high! And I never intended to be that high up in the first place. If I was this bad my first time back on a broom…” She clenched her teeth and felt her face burn with embarrassment. “You had to catch me like I was a child.”

“And we all start off somewhere, you have the disadvantage of phobia. We will work it out.” He started walking with her back to Hogwarts.

“And what if I do that again.” She kicked back a bramble caught in her jeans.

“I’ll catch you again.” He smiled confidently. She figured this had to be amusing for him, watching a childhood enemy fall off a broom over and over would be entertaining if she was Draco Malfoy.

“What if I’m too far? What if you can’t.”

He rolled his eyes and looked at her with a pointed look.

“I’m a much better seeker than Potter and by far a better flier than Weasley. I will always catch you.” And he said it with such a straight face and sincerity she felt her heart betray her with a flutter and took a deep breath. They reached the pathway finally.

“I’ll see you again next Saturday, same time.” He gave a dismissive gesture with his hand as he walked ahead of her and instead of going to Hogwarts continued to Hogsmeade.

“Right.” She muttered to herself. As he walked away It suddenly clicked what he had said that had bothered her earlier. ‘Hermione, wait.’ Draco Malfoy had for the first time that she could ever remember in the eight years of knowing him called her by her first name. She suddenly couldn’t help feeling that maybe all of this was a terrible idea. ——-(to be continued???)——

author note:

the images for this were made from mid journey I didn’t edit them this time , this was made for the flufftober

day one

“I’ve got you”

prompt but it ended up being much longer once I started writing so I got stuck one day one and I guess it’s the only one I’m doing this year. I haven’t written fan fiction in like … a decade and it ended up being really fun. Would anyone be interested in me starting this story from a beginning and finishing it? Probably not but comment if interested in seeing that , I’ve considered using all of the flufftober prompts from this year to write the fan fiction .

[lolitystories]

Don't let me down 4 : Spider-man.

Miguel rushed downstairs. The capsule in which the man was locked opened, once the experiment ended.

"Sir ? Sir, can you hear me…”

Miguel's throat was caught, taking his breath away.

The man who had come out of the capsule was no longer human. His body was deformed, his skin had melted, his body had reacted badly to the fusion.

"Sir ! Sir, it’s me…”

Mr. Parker looked at Miguel, and before killing him, his eyes widened, he seemed to recognize him and let go.

Miguel held his throat and looked at him.

“...S…Sa…Sara…”

Several tears streamed down his face, before he collapsed.

“Hmm… Dead. Too bad, but do you see what strength he displayed in his last moments ? We are on the right path. Keep it up gentlemen.”

Said Tyler Stone.

Aaron was delighted, but Miguel…

This time... He wasn't going to run away.

**

*Sarah…*

Lyla begged.

“...”

*Sara please… If you don’t calm down you will…*

The young woman was in the ducts.

She was no longer moving, curled up in a ball, holding her mouth tightly with her hand, she was holding back from screaming, biting her fingers until they bled, her face was covered in tears and she was trembling, she couldn't stop trembling.

*I'm here...I'm here Sara.*

**

"I resign."

Miguel announced to Stone, he had followed him to his office, he was opening a bottle of wine.

“Come on, I don’t like this kind of joke Miguel, come celebrate this progress with me instead.”

“You call that progress ? I have enough evidence to bring you and the company down.”

“...”

Tyler looked at him, seriously this time.

“Let’s sit down and let’s talk calmly, will you ?”

He said, pouring him a drink.

He then went to sit down in front of him.

“Did you know ?”

"Know what ? That Sara Parker is the daughter of the man who was just tested ? You have no proof, nothing remains of his body… Mr. Parker disappeared a few years ago already…”

“...”

“Let’s just say he stuck his nose where he shouldn’t have.”

Miguel took a sip, before speaking.

"For what ? Why is it so important to you to…”

Suddenly he froze, something was wrong with him, he felt bad, his head was spinning.

“And then, who would believe a drug addict ?”

"What ?"

“Do you know we are developing a drug ? Some of our employees can use it for free, but you have always refused and well… I just poured some in your drink.”

“You…”

But Stone raised his finger.

“You should take a few days off Miguel and rest, Sara will take your place while you feel better.”

“Don’t involve her in this !”

“I won’t do anything, as long as you hold your tongue… This is our agreement, I need you and you need me. The drug is already starting to take effect, isn't it ? Hallucinations, anger, tiredness… Soon, your body will be totally addicted to it and you will have no choice, you will have to come back, if you want your dose. So go home, it would be a shame if you hurt your dear colleague or someone close to you, while you are not yourself.”

After that, Miguel was taken home by security.

He had a headache, he didn't feel well, not well at all and unfortunately for him, the first thing he heard was the loud music of Dana, who was doing her gym exercises.

“Dana… Please turn off the music.”

“Miguel? Is that you darling ? You’re early ?”

“Cut the music…”

"Stop !"

"...You must leave."

Worried, Dana approached.

“Honey what’s wrong? Talk to me."

"Do not come near me…"

“Mig…”

"Go away !"

He pushed her away and accidentally hit her.

“...”

“Dana! Oh no darling I… I…”

He didn't dare approach her.

“What’s wrong with you !?”

“I… I’m sorry, it’s because of this drug I…”

"Drug ? How long have you been taking drugs !?”

“Since Tyler Stone made me take it when I wanted to quit.”

"What !? You want to leave Alchemax ? But you never told me about it…”

“Well, after what happened today I was going to do it but now…”

Miguel fell to the ground, his whole head hurt, he wanted to throw up.

He heard Dana leave, then quickly return with a bucket and ice for the beating he had given her.

“I’m so sorry… I never meant to.”

"I know…"

Being like his father was the last thing he wanted, he still remembered all the nights he would come home and argue with his mother, beating her.

Those evenings, Gabriel would come to his room and cry, Miguel would stay by his side all night, hugging him.

He didn't want to become a monster.

Soon after, Dana brought him water, supporting him as he emptied what he had ingested.

“What are we going to do now ?”

she asked.

“...This drug is powerful, I need to find a solution.”

“I have friends… Who could provide you with some, so you won’t have to go back there.”

Miguel frowned.

“Provide me some ? There's no way I'm going to get addicted ! Can you imagine… I couldn’t bear becoming someone like that… I don’t want to hurt you or anyone…”

Dana hugged him.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you… That’s all…”

She cried in his arms and he tried to console her.

He didn't want to lose her, he had to find a solution, he wouldn't be a monster !

A few hours later, Dana woke up. Miguel was no longer in the bed. He disappeared…

**

Following the experiment earlier, the laboratory was empty.

Sara after several hours, had fallen asleep in the ducts, or rather passed out, following all the tears she had shed. Lyla had woken her up.

*Sara, do you still want to carry out the plan ?*

"...Yes. Let’s destroy everything and go home…”

Sara opened the trapdoor and dropped down.

All her muscles ached from the uncomfortable position in which she had slept.

“Are all cameras disabled ?”

*Yes, but…"

"What ?"

*It wasn't me who did it... Someone just arrived, it's Miguel.*

“What is he doing here?”

*Apparently, he is going to try the experiment again but on himself, with his DNA...*

Lyla showed her his code.

"Drug ? How did it happen ?"

*I don't know, but it looks like he wants to make it disappear, using his DNA, before that happens.*

“...”

*Should we interrupt it, there is a 50% chance that it will end up like...*

“...Let's go to the control room. If his life is in danger, let’s stop the operation.”

The machine started up, Sara headed towards the control room, but before she got there, she heard footsteps, then light.

Damn… It’s a festival tonight.

“Miguel O’hara working overtime ? To further shine on the eyes of the boss I imagine…”

This voice… Is it Aaron?

“What a shame, something happened to Miguel during his experience, and I arrived too late to help him.”

What ?

Sara moved closer and looked at the screens.

“File 47-B, spider 50”

The machine gave an alert signal, it was overloaded.

“Lyla! Stop the experiment !”

'Who is here !?"

*Impossible, the commands no longer respond, we are above the limit !*

“Sara ! What are you doing here ? You have no right to be…!”

"Get away !"

Sara tried to stop the machine manually, sparks flying all over the room.

“...I have nothing to do with any of this !”

Said Aaron, before leaving to hide himself.

We could hear a terrible scream escaping from the capsule, she no longer had time, Sara was going to try to force him out.

*Be careful Sara, it’s going to…*

The machine exploded and the shock wave propelled Sara against the wall.

There was smoke everywhere in the room, following the shock, Sara had been knocked out. Footsteps came closer.

“Stupid woman… Couldn’t you just mind your own business ?”

Aaron said, pushing her body with his foot.

“...”

"You're still alive ? But you won't have the opportunity to speak, I would say that it was you who killed Miguel, just after I killed you..”

He kicked her back and she cried out in pain.

“That’s all you deserve, you poor idiot…”

He was going to give her another blow, but...

“...”

Aaron froze.

A sound, the breath of something had blown, near the back of his neck.

He turned around, but no one was there.

And when he turned to Sara, she was gone.

"Who…"

“Aaaaoooon….”

He turned around in terror, the man behind him... Wait, was it a man ?

His eyes were red, his fingers had long claws, and huge fangs protruded from its mouth.

"Who, what are you…"

“What did you do to me Aaron !!!”

He was furious, in his arms he held Sara, who was looking at him half awake.

Aaron pulled a gun out of his blouse.

“Don’t… Don’t come near me monster !”

He fired, but with superhuman speed, Miguel dodged the bullets, clinging to the wall with the strength of his fingers alone.

“Aaron stop!”

"No ! I don’t know what kind of mutant you’ve become, but I won’t let you kill me !”

By pulling in all directions, Aaron ended up shooting into a product can which exploded.

Miguel protected Sara from the shock, then the duo looked at the large window which had shattered.

"Where is..."

"Help !!!"

Aaron was holding on to the railing as best he could, the wind was blowing hard and he was about to fall.

Miguel approached, to extend his hand, but when Aaron saw his claws and panicked. All he had time to do was grab his fingers before he fell.

“...”

Miguel looked at his fingers.

“I… What did I…”

*Sara ! Miguel ! Security is on the way, you need to leave, now !*

It was time to get his act together.

Sara grabbed Miguel's arm, who was still in a trance.

"No ! Leave me Sara, I’m a murderer, I’m…”

“He tried to kill us ! Do you really want to die like that !?”

“...”

“Lyla ! Emergency evacuation !”

*All exits are blocked, you will have to go through the roof.*

Following Lyla's instructions, they reached the top of the building.

"And now ?"

Miguel asked.

“Are you afraid of heights ?”

She took a device out of her backpack.

"What do you want to…"

A rope ejected, to cling to the opposite building.

"...Who are you ? Really ?"

“We'll talk about this when we're safe, so hang in there... Oh, and watch out for the claws...”

Miguel wrapped his arms around her and they dropped, using her grappling hook.

They managed to escape the security of Alchemax, mingling with the crowd below.

“Come quickly, with his torn clothes you risk attracting attention.”

“And you with your black jumpsuit ?”

“It’s already less striking !”

"...Where are we going ?"

“My home, we need to understand what happened to you, at least… I won’t have to destroy the labs anymore…”

“...You wanted to destroy them ?”

Sara looked at him coldly as they entered a subway.

“I was there this morning…”

“...”

“But I know you have nothing to do with it…”

“Sara I…”

He reached out his hand towards hers.

"Claws !"

"Sorry !"

He shouted, quickly walking away.

**

*Hello Miguel.*

“...Let me sleep Lyla.”

*Sorry but, Dana tried to contact you several times…*

“Dana ? Oh…"

He sat up.

“I had a funny dream where I became a kind of spider-man…”

*...Well, it wasn't a dream, your DNA is now 50% of a spider.*

Miguel laughs.

“Yes of course, and I even have claws on the end of…”

He looked at his fingers and cried out in terror.

"It's... It's..."

“Oh, you finally woke up ?”

Sara, entered the dimly lit room and turned on the light, but Miguel hid his eyes, as if it hurt.

“I see… We will take the sunglasses.”

She said bringing him a pair.

“You owe me a new bed…”

He had reduced her sheets to confetti, at least… He was wearing clothes, men's clothes, but a little small for him.

“…It was real…”

“Yes, at least… The drug has completely disappeared from your system.”

“But… I’m going to stay like this…”

"...Yes."

"I should have…"

" Oh no ! I don't want to hear that!

"..."

“You saved me last night, again…”

Miguel smiled sadly.

“We’re back to where we started.”

"...Even if we can't make you look like before, I can help you adapt. The claws retract, there are contact lenses and…”

"Sara…How about you tell me what you were really doing in the lab… What happened to you and your father ?"

"..."

"You said you would tell me the truth, that's why you disappeared, all those years, right ?"

"Yes."

" What happened ?”

"Well… Let's start at the beginning, it might be a bit long."

"..."

She sighed and took a deep breath.

“I am the great, great-granddaughter of the first Spider-Man. Peter Parker.”

Back to masterlist - Previous chapter - Next chapter

[nicohischierz]

Prompt *35 (from the pinned thing) with luke hughes like going to the lake house as friends

35: he/she’s just a friend

“i don’t want to intrude on your guys time,” you told luke as he grabbed your bag from your hands. the oh rolled his eyes at you and put your bag in the boot.

“y/n/n, you aren’t intruding anything. plus, my mom loves you. she probably won’t remember her children when she sees you,” luke teased.

you stuck your younger out at him and followed him into the car. luke drove the car whilst you handled the aux and gave him directions to his house.

when the car pulled into the driveway, the front door opened and put walked luke’s two older brothers. “and who is this gorgeous lady?” jack asked, looking you up and down.

“don’t flirt with y/n/n jack,” ellen chastised as she came running down the stairs towards you. she enveloped you in a hug before turning to her youngest.

ellen gave luke a quick hug before pulling you into the house leaving her three sons to carry your bags in.

“how have you been y/n/n? are you hungry, thirsty, tired?” she asked walking towards the kitchen. you shook your head and gave her a smile “i’m all good mama hughes,”

ellen didn’t take no ad an answer, so she sat you down at the kitchen island and poured you some lemonade and slid it against the counter to you.

the two of you went into the living room and sat on the sofa. ellen was turned towards you with her feet up waiting to ask you something.

“so how has everything been?” she asked. you were about to reply when luke came and sat beside you stealing the glass of lemonade from your hands.

you glared at luke and he just gave you a smile and handed you the nearly empty glass back. “i love you,” he declared sheepishly, luke then grabbed your face and kissed your cheek.

at that moment jack, quinn and some other boys came into the living room and stopped at the sight of luke kissing your cheek. “hey, no one told us y/n was here,” dylan exclaimed running towards you.

due to dylan’s distraction everyone dropped the topic of you and luke until the bonfire that night.

throughout the day, the boys watched as you and luke made little interactions such as him always holding onto your hands or how you were wearing his hoodie.

that night you were texting your boyfriend, matthew knies. matthew was on his way to the lake house and you were so excited to see him after so long.

he had texted you asking luke for the address to the lake house and whether he had the right one so you showed it to you friend who nodded.

“excuse me, let me just answer this call and i’ll be out of your hair,” you excused yourself from the boys to go talk to your boyfriend.

“dukes, why didn’t you tell us you were dating someone?” quinn asked when you left the vicinity. luke furrowed his eyebrows and looked to his teammates for help.

your call with matthew was quick so when you were walking back to the bonfire you could here the boys talking about luke’s girlfriend.

“wait who are you talking about?”

“y/n!”

after the two older brothers shouted your name out the michigan team started laughing. “that’s a good joke hughesy,” johnny laughed.

you sat yourself down next to luke and shook your head. “lukey and i aren’t dating, he’s just my friend. plus i don’t think my boyfriend would like that,” you mentioned nonchalantly.

quinn and jack turned red in the face and profusely apologised for the comments about you and luke. you smiled at them and said “it’s fine, you guys aren’t the first people to think so.”

[thelavendernarwhal]

Keefex Week Day 1

Prompt: Queer-platonic 

......

Keefe hated that he still loved this place. Objectively, it smelled like a gulon’s armpit, the ground was covered in an inky film, and he found the area during one of the worst periods of his life. Some part of him still looked over his shoulder whenever a selkie cried in the distance in case it was the Neverseen that disturbed it. 

Still… he came back every once in a while. 

Keefe sighed, dropping down onto his usual spot. It was one of the only outcrops too tall for the selkies to get to. Was it a pain to get to? Yes, but it was leagues better than staying at Sophie’s house. 

Okay, that sounds bad. It’s just…

“-give you some privacy, but I’ll be in the area.”

“Thanks. Mind helping me up?”

“Not a problem.”

“Thanks.”

Keefe shot to his feet, creeping to the outer parts of his nook in a hunched crouch. His heart rate doubled as footsteps came closer. Sinking down farther, he reached for a crystal, any crystal, stuck in his pocket.

“Keefe? Are you there?”

The closeness of the voice made him jump back, but recognition finally hit. Keefe’s breathing evened out slightly. “Uh, yeah. Back here.”

After a few seconds, a welcomed face came into view. “Cozy place you got here.”

“The best.” Keefe backed up, giving Dex some breathing room. He gave the cramped space a once-over before crawling in after. “How’d you know I was here?”

“Panic ring. I was checking the remote functionality. I was going to call you ahead of time, but my imparter said you were out of range.”

He cringed a little. “Yeah…There’s some sort of signal blocker around here.” The from the Neverseen went unspoken. “Sophie would freak if she knew.”

“... Yeah, you’re right.” 

An awkward pause followed his words.

Keefe crunched his knees up against his chest, noting that Dex didn’t have anything to say about the technology. Or about else thing for that matter. 

He hated that things were like this now; heavy silences, mile-long stares, feeling like glass with a million hair-fractures. The worst part was that he couldn’t fully deny it. What if one wrong move caused his powers to flare? What if he’d never be able to control himself? 

What if his friends couldn’t trust him anymore? 

“Are you mad at me?” 

Dex’s attention changed so fast it might have given him whiplash. “What? No.”

“You sure? It seems like something’s off.”

“And your brain jumps to me being mad?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Most people are.”

“I’m not mad at you-” Dex stopped before huffing out a sigh. “Okay, what you did was really stupid and I’ll probably be peeved about that for awhile, but I’m not actively angered right now.”

“Okay…Cool.”

“Is there someone else who’s especially pissed at you?”

“Well, yeah.” Keefe almost laughed. “It feels like there should be more.” In return, Dex gave him a questioning look. “... It seems like people are letting me off the hook too easily. Even if what I did was for the best or not, I knew it would hurt people. Shouldn’t there be more consequences for that?”

“You realize we don’t like seeing you in distress, right?” Dex nudged him with his elbow. “We were upset, yeah, but a lot of us are more relieved that you’re okay.”

“I guess I see that. Sophie didn’t deck me in that hotel room after all.”

“Trust me, it was a struggle for both of us.” 

Dex’s tone changed on a dime; no more joking or teasing, just staring off into the inky pools below. Keefe hated to admit how often this sort of thing happened. Although… Maybe he was starting to figure out a pattern.

“Hey..” Come on, it’s Dex. You won’t scare him off. Chill out. “Is Sophie still kinda a sore subject for you?”

The last thing Keefe expected to get was a full body laugh. “Really? That’s what you’re wondering about?” Dex’s face flushed bright red the way it always did when he was cracking up. If he wasn’t bracing for more awkward silence, Keefe would’ve pointed out how the color gave his hair a run for its money.

“What? That was a rough time.”

“At the time, yeah, but I’m pretty solidly over it. Honestly, I don’t think I ever liked Sophie in that way in the first place.”

“Wait, really?”

The question made Dex calm down. He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“I’m not in a rush.” Keefe commented. 

The younger of the two’s attention moved upward with a distinct look of concentration. Now that’s the Dex Keefe was used to. “Have you ever had someone you were just drawn to being around?” Keefe nodded although the question was probably rhetorical. “Sophie was- well, still is like that. She’s one of the first people I connected with. She didn’t care that I had no status or that I might never. She never thought I was weird or, at least if she did, she never held it against me. I just liked being around her.” 

“I get what you’re saying.” The resulting soft and melancholy smile made Keefe question whether he said the right or wrong thing.

“I guess I thought feelings like that had to be a crush. I mean, I hadn’t felt anything like that towards anyone before and why else would I be so attached?” A tinge of bitterness cropped up in his voice, but it didn’t stick around. “It took me a while, but I realized that a relationship like that wasn’t what I wanted. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be close to people. I shouldn’t have to justify it.  Having to categorize my feelings is dumb and, honestly, a waste of time.”

A cold wind whistled past the nook, but it didn’t change Dex’s proud smile. “I never thought of it that way.” Keefe finally let his legs unfurl in front of him,

“Have things with you and Sophie been okay? It seems like you’ve been avoiding any and all Ruewens.”

Can’t get anything past you. “Is it that obvious?”

“Not really. I can’t blame you for avoiding Grady’s interrogation.”

“Did he interrogate you?” Keefe asked. The tight nod said enough. “Man, brutal.” 

“Although, back to the topic at hand…”

“Won’t let me avoid my problems that easily?”

“Never.”

Keefe lightly elbowed his side in response. “I kinda relate to what you were talking more than I should.” Dex’s signature “questioning look” (all in the eyebrow, Keefe noted) prompted him to explain more. “I’ve wanted to date Sophie for so long and now that it's happening, I feel like I should be happier about it. Or, I don’t know, my idea of what this relationship would be like is so off that I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Is it still what you want?” Apparently Dex thought beating around the bush was for losers.

Honestly, Keefe could appreciate it. “No clue. Sophie’s still someone I want to be close to, but couple-y stuff feels weird with her. And that’s not just because of the protective parents.” He tacked on.

Before he could stop it, Keefe flopped his head against Dex’s shoulder, letting out a melodramatic sigh. Call it sad and mopey, but the action did help. Something about a solid other person was the grounding presence he needed. 

“This is probably bullshit advice coming from me, but you should tell her that. There’s a good chance she’ll understand.” In return, Dex tentatively reached an arm around him. Keefe almost laughed at the irony.

“It’s funny. ‘The one person that you’re drawn to’ thing… The first person I thought of was you.”

A quick look upward revealed a faint blush on Dex’s face. “Yeah…I get what you mean.”

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Don't Blame Me | John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!OC

Chapter 9: Run

Ao3 | Masterpost

John 'Soap' Mactavish wasn't thrilled to be given an escort mission to bring a young woman halfway across the world to a secret safe house especially when he has to pretend to be her husband. At least she's pretty.

General Tags: Fake Marriage, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slow Build, Canon-Typical Violence

Words: 2k

CW: Mentions of Domestic Abuse

He taped a piece of tarp to the broken window. He thought about stealing another car and decided against it. He felt bad enough about this one. He couldn’t steal someone’s car just before Christmas. He’d stopped believing in God a long time ago but he knew if he was real that would get him sent to hell for sure. 

It would take almost twenty-four hours to get to British Columbia from here. They decided to stay stateside till Washington. 

They’d get new clothes, toiletries, and anything else before they crossed over. He just wanted to put as much distance between them and Chicago as possible. 

They hadn’t talked much since the restaurant. They’d both dug into each other a bit and it still stung. It wasn’t out of cruelty, just genuine curiosity. Maybe he should have opened up a bit more to her. It’s not like she would know who Hassan was. 

He couldn’t stand the silence in the car and turned on the radio. Most of it was Christmas music. He flipped through till he found one he liked.

“Last Christmas I gave you my heart but the very next day you gave it away!” He sang along, nudging her with his elbow to get her to join in “This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special. Come on, Nina!”

“I remember this song.” She pushed his arm away but there was a smile tugging at her face. 

“Trust me, by the time we get there you’ll know all the Christmas songs.” He wanted to see her smile fully break through. “You celebrated Christmas when you were younger, right?”

“Younger, keyword.”

“I can fix that. We have to make it up for all that lost time.” 

“We don’t.” She was shaking her head.

“Listen, if we’re gonna be stuck together for it we’re celebrating. Cook up something nice and drink ourselves stupid. Pure blootered.” 

He was running through plans in his head. Most trees would be sold out but he was sure he could find a good bottle of scotch and a couple of steaks to cook. She didn’t seem entirely convinced. 

“It’ll be fun, Neen.” He turned up the music and tugged on her coat sleeve to get her to sway along with him.

The driving was easy. Just long stretches of straight highways cutting through the plains and farmland. Everything was covered in a layer of snow, it made him feel like he was driving through a snow globe. 

“Why did Price call you Soap?” She asked a little after they crossed into North Dakota. They’d broken into a bag of crisps. 

“It’s a nickname. Lots of people get them.” 

“I know what a nickname is. Why is yours Soap?” 

“Can’t tell you.” He said, reaching into her lap to grab a handful. 

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Classified,” He smirked, before eating. 

“You’re so boring sometimes,” She rolled her eyes and groaned.

“Because I won’t tell you classified information?” He chuckled.

“Who am I going to tell? Price? I’m sure he knows already.”

“You could tell your future friends.”

“I’m not going to live that long,” She laughed. 

“Don’t say that, Neen.” He stopped laughing, his mouth forming a thin line. 

“It’s just a joke.” She was getting defensive now. He didn’t want a fight.

“It’s not funny.” His knuckles turned white around the steering wheel. He didn’t know how to tell her that the past twenty-four hours had been his most terrifying. That he kept his hand on her knee to know that she was still alive next to him, afraid her brain would bleed out of her head. That when he woke up and saw his knife missing he wanted to throw up. He’d never failed a mission, come close but always won over in the end. Trying to keep her safe felt like holding water in his hands. “I kill anyone who tries to hurt you.”

“I think I killed the last guy who hurt me, actually,” She smirked.

“Aye, ye did. Absolute weapon you are.” He was smiling again too. “I could have handled it though.”

“He was going to stab you in the face.”

“Would’ve gotten a nice new scar if it wasn’t for ya.” He ran his thumb over the scar on his chin. “I think one by my eye would have looked cool.”

“What happened here?” She asked, dragging a finger over her own chin. “Or is that also classified?”

“Cheeky.” He playfully pushed against her arm, “Just a fight when I was kid.”

“What was the fight about?”

“Couldn’t tell ya. Got punched in the back of the head, fell, and cut my chin open. My mates had to drag me to hospital. My maw was pissed.” He laughed. “So, you got any cool scars?”

“I don’t know if it’s cool but I have this.” She rolled up the edge of her shirt, and on her left side was a divet. A gunshot wound, small probably from long range. It was years old judging from how healed it was. 

“Who fucking shot you?”

“It was a hunting accident.” She said, pulling her shirt back down. “My dad and I were unknowingly going for the same deer. I hit the deer, he hit me.”

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus. How old were you?”

“Fourteen,” She shrugged. “It wasn’t on purpose, I know that. The first and only time I ever saw him cry was when he had to dig it out. It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“I’ve been shot before it’s pretty fucking bad.” He was always surprised at how casually she could talk about her life. It made him wince hearing her treat getting shot like it was a skinned knee you get from falling off a bike. 

“Maybe you were just a baby about it then,” she giggled. She fucking giggled and that made him grin. 

It was getting dark by the time he decided they needed to make a full stop. He pulled into a larger truck stop. There were a couple fast food restaurants inside as well as a convenience store and gift shop. He slipped her a hundred.

“Get whatever you want. I’ll fill up the car.” He kept his eye on her from outside, using any window to keep track as she walked around filling up a basket. Even over some of the shelves, he could see the top of her head. He only lost sight of her as he put the pump back. 

He grabbed his own basket and immediately went to the fridges, grabbing multiple energy and sports drinks. He would sleep when he got her there. He hadn’t found her again but he could hear the slap of her slippers on the linoleum. He could hear her voice, she sounded irritated. Someone was talking back but he couldn’t make out the words. 

“Don’t touch me!” It was Nina. He dropped the basket, rushing down the main way till he saw her. An older man was hovering over her, a hand still outstretched towards her face. A red hand print blooming on his cheek. He moved faster than he could think. He pushed himself between them, placing an arm across Nina’s chest to move her behind him. 

“This is your wonderful husband, I assume?” He was English; London accent. He was older, in his later forties probably. He wasn’t dressed for the weather, oxfords, black pants, and an older-looking green jacket. 

“Do we have a problem?” John growled. His fingers wrapped around her arm protectively, and her muscles were tense. 

“You’re lovely wife seems a little worse for wear. Doing the civil thing and making sure she’s okay. Isn’t that right, love?” He craned his neck to look at Nina. She was holding onto the back of his coat. Her soft tugs pleading to let them leave. 

“You touch er’?” He couldn’t hide his rage. The man was the same height as him but John was bigger, stronger. ‘Give me a reason, fucker’ he thought. 

“George, we should go. It’s not a big deal.” She hadn’t called him that since New York. He could hear in her voice she was scared, he tightened his grip on her arm reassuringly. 

“I should ask you the same thing. Poor thing’s bruised like an apple.” He knew he didn’t need to defend himself to this stranger but did people think he did that to Nina? It made his stomach flip just at the idea. “Got a bit upset about the world cup, did you?”

“Did you touch my wife?” He barked it like an order. He grabbed the front of the man’s jacket, letting go of Nina. His other hand was clenched tightly. He would have taken all his anger and fear out on this man, beaten him bloody into the floor. He would have if he didn’t feel Nina’s hand wrap around his fist. Her mouth was against his shoulder, he could feel her warm breath on his ear. 

“Let’s just get our stuff and leave.” He let go of the man and let Nina pull him to the front register. He kept his arm around her, anyone who wanted to get close to her would have to go through him. 

“Enjoy your honeymoon, lovebirds,” the man called from across the parking lot as he helped Nina into the car. 

He slammed the door as he got in the car, it took him longer to get it started than usual. Nina was watching the man in the rearview for him. As soon as the engine started he pulled out as fast as he could.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his hand on her knee again. She was still looking in the rearview, not listening. He shook her leg a little. “Nina, are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh…yeah… I’m okay. I just…I don’t know.”

“Nina, did he touch you? I need you to tell me what happened.”

“Just my face.” She said, her own hand glossing over her bruised cheeks. “He sounded familiar.”

His stomach dropped.

“What do you mean? Do you know him?”

“I don’t know. I just felt like I’ve heard his voice before.” She was drifting away from him, gazing out the window. He shook her out of her head. 

“What did he say to you?”

“He was asking about my face and what happened and he saw the ring so he was asking if my husband did it. I told him I didn't want to talk and he touched my face and then you were there and you were yelling and I thought you were going to kill him and I didn’t know what to do.” She was blazing through her words, breathing hard. 

“Nina, you’re okay. I’m right here.” He rubbed circles on her knee, wishing he could do more. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Nina. You’re safe though. He won’t follow us, he won’t find us. If he does, it’ll be the last thing he ever fucking does.”

All his promises were followed with threats. Violence had become his greatest love language. He didn’t know how to show he cared besides that. He’d kill that man for her but he wouldn’t touch her, not more than this. He’d call her his wife but he wouldn’t kiss her. He’d clean her wounds but would fight about sleeping in the same bed. 

Her hand rested on his. It was warm and he could feel every muscle and tendon twitch beneath her skin. The involuntary movements, just her being alive next to him. Her hand fitted perfectly with his and it made him sweat. He thought about the train and how that seemed like half a lifetime ago. The warmth of her fingers against his skin in the dark. 

He flipped his hand over so their palms were against each other. He was slow as he took the band of her hand and pressed his lips against it. He didn’t know how else to tell her he cared. 

Tag List: @yeyinde @queen-ilmaree @yearningforsappho

LMK if you want to be added for this or any other fic 💗

[laudsimogen]

This Hunger, It Isn't You (Ch. 16)

Read on AO3

“Absolutely not.”

Imogen scowled and crossed her arms. “And why not?”

“Because—” Laudna sputtered. “It’s dangerous! You don’t have anything to defend yourself with, and you could die, and if something happens to me and I can’t get you back to the campfire—”

Laudna suddenly looked genuinely anxious, and Imogen softened. “Hey,” she said. “It’ll be all right. I can help, even just as a distraction. But if something does happen to you, I wanna be there. I can’t stand the thought of sittin’ at the campfire while you’re out here fighting other killers and not knowin’ whether you’re okay.”

Laudna sighed. “I suppose I would be a hypocrite if I said no, then.”

“I’ll be fine.” Imogen nudged her with her shoulder. “Anyway, I already know who you should try and fight. I got intel you need,” she joked.

“Oh?”

“The Hag.” The thought of walking into the Hag’s territory again did give Imogen a bout of nerves, but it would be all right with Laudna. “She’s much smaller than you, she doesn’t have any crazy weapons, and she’s got those traps all over the place. We can get the drop on her if we trigger one; she’ll just be expecting a survivor. She should be pretty easy.”

Laudna nodded. “That’s a good plan,” she said. “Are you sure you want to come? She hurt you so badly last time…”

“I’m sure.” Imogen smiled at her. “I’ll be safe with you.”

“I hope you haven’t placed too much faith in me,” Laudna said, but she offered her hand, and Imogen eagerly took it. “Oh, I hope this isn’t a mistake.”

“We don’t have to do it,” Imogen said. “We can find somethin’ else to try if you don’t feel good about this.”

“I don’t, but I still think it’s our best shot at weakening the Entity,” Laudna said. “But if it doesn’t go well, I just…I want you to know how important you are to me, Imogen. I’ve never met someone like you, and your friendship means so much to me. So, thank you.”

Heat rose to Imogen’s face. “You don’t gotta thank me for that, Laud. The feeling is mutual.”

Laudna smiled bashfully and squeezed Imogen’s hand. “Well, shall we go kick some Hag ass, then?”

Imogen laughed. “We can certainly try,” she said.

But the closer they got to the swamp, the bigger the pit of anxiety in Imogen’s chest grew. She had no doubt Laudna would beat the Hag in a fight, but that wasn’t what she was afraid of. What if they were underestimating the Entity’s power? What if it destroyed Laudna the moment she won the fight?

Laudna was right; this was probably the best and possibly the only way to create change in this awful, unending place. But the thought of losing her in the process scared Imogen more than the prospect of staying here forever. Of course she wanted out, of course she wanted a release from the constant cycle of pain and death, and of course she wanted to see the sun and hear the birds again, but what else did she have out there? She didn’t have friends. Her father was probably relieved that she was gone.

So, to be back there without the friends she’d made here—without Laudna—would be pointless. And to be stuck here without her would be even worse.

She’d cross that bridge if she came to it. For now, Imogen just tried to focus on the matter at hand. There were telltale signs of the Hag’s traps if one paid close enough attention. She kept her eye out for one with Laudna behind her as they walked the edge of the swamp and stopped when she spotted a hazy ring through the long grasses near a tree.

“There,” Imogen said. “I’ll step on it, and you get ready to grab her. She’ll probably be so focused on me she won’t even notice you.”

Laudna nodded and shifted into her form of dread. It was fascinating to watch, the way she grew and stretched and darkened until she looked like the thing children feared lived under their beds. It was so hard to even imagine being afraid of her, though, not with her huge, kind eyes and gentle demeanor. She reminded Imogen of a massive, shy puppy.

“All right,” Imogen said. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Laudna replied, and Imogen stepped into the trap.

The Hag appeared as quickly as Imogen expected, and she immediately ducked out of the way. It was over before she could even really process what happened; by the time she turned around, Laudna already had the Hag pinned to the ground, fingers embedded in the woody skin of her neck. Then, with a single swift motion, she grasped the Hag’s head and tore it off around the breaks she’d already created in the thing’s spine.

Everything was silent and still for a moment as thick, viscous blood oozed from the Hag’s body. “Fuck,” Laudna said, “That was easier than I expected. She was fucking brittle.”

Imogen paused. “What now?”

Laudna couldn’t reply before the ground began to shake and a shrill shrieking sound rang through the air.

“Shit.” Imogen grabbed Laudna’s hand and pulled her away. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

They ran back into Laudna’s woods as the rumbling grew stronger. When Imogen glanced behind them, it was as if the swamp was crumbling into nothing. Pieces of it fell away into the darkest blackness Imogen had ever seen: the ground, the trees, even the sky. It was as if the entire landscape was being swallowed until nothing remained, and a void lay in its place. Then, slowly, the lands around them shifted to fill the gap, the swamp now replaced by taller, bare woods with the faintest glimpse of twinkling colored lights in the distance. Imogen recognized them.

“That’s where the Clown lives,” she said as the dust settled. “Did we just…destroy part of the Fog?”

Laudna stared out at the new area. “I think we did.”

Imogen tried to wrap her head around what this might mean for them. If the killers were tied to their land, they could probably wipe out half of the Fog, if not more.

“Laudna—”

Imogen tried to step toward Laudna, but a row of black spines burst from the ground between them—the same barrier the Entity used to keep killers out of the campfire and the exit gates.

“Oh, fuck.” Laudna tried to skirt around the barrier to no avail; the spines followed along with her faster than she could get around them.

“You’ve got to be kiddin’ me.” Imogen took one of the spines and pulled, but it was stronger than she expected. “So, that got your attention, huh?” she called up to the sky. “Why don’t you tell us how you really feel?”

“Don’t tempt it,” Laudna hissed. “I’ve seen it skewer survivors on those things.”

Imogen groaned. “Okay. Well, it didn’t kill us, so that’s good news. Maybe it really can’t.”

“Until we get another trial,” Laudna said. “Which means we don’t have time to be messing around with its tricks.”

Imogen tested the barrier again, but it held strong. “Maybe it’ll go away eventually, like the ones that keep us from goin’ through windows and shit in the trials sometimes.”

“Or maybe it’s permanent,” Laudna murmured. “There isn’t time to test it. I need to go, Imogen. Get rid of as many of the other killers as I can, and try to weaken the Entity before my next trial.”

Imogen gripped the spines in her hands, her nails digging into her palms around them. She knew there wasn’t much she could do to protect Laudna anyway, but she was terrified of what some of the more capable killers might do to her, especially now that the Entity would be on high alert and might be able to influence the way any subsequent fights would go. But it was their only hope of weakening the Entity before it had another opportunity to hurt Laudna, and Imogen knew that if she stood down, it would be a matter of when rather than if it destroyed Laudna.

Imogen took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll wait here. Maybe try the Trapper next, or the Legion. Just keep an eye out for those bear traps, and some people are pretty sure the Legion is actually more than one killer. Don’t let them sneak up on you.”

“All right,” Laudna said. “Maybe…maybe you should go back to the campfire. If I die, and these woods disappear like that…I don’t know what would happen to you.”

“You won’t die,” Imogen said. Of course, there was no way to know that, but maybe if she said it out loud it would be true. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t wanna lose you.”

“I will.” Laudna paused. Imogen could barely see her through the thick wall of spines, but she looked so worried. “You be careful, too.”

“I will,” Imogen said, though she couldn’t imagine what could endanger her more than what Laudna was about to do. If agreeing to be careful would help Laudna feel better, then she would. “Good luck, Laud. I’ll be right here; I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

[sailorbuckley]

Stranger Things 4 spoilers below

-

“I’m going first” Steve repeats, shirt already halfway off.

“Did you not hear me, Harrington? I’m going first. Nobody wants that pretty face of yours to drown” Billy insists and his voice is firm but his eyes are soft as they trail down Steve’s now exposed back. Robin notices and giggles, because Robin always notices.

“Whatever. Be back in a couple minutes” Steve mutters and jumps into the water because of course, of course he doesn’t listen.

“Fucking–” Billy sighs and runs a hand over his face. Takes his own shirt off because of course, of course he has to show off if Steve’s showing off.

“He knows damn well I’m a better swimmer than he is” it’s all he says before following Steve into the lake.

—

“Earth to Steve?” Robin snaps her fingers in his face and he’s brought back to reality.

“Sorry” he sighs. “I was just thinking about what he would do if he was here”

Robin smiles at him. “Hey, that’s exactly what we’re doing here. Bringing him back.”

“It’s gonna be a dummy trail. Him and I, we’re… always unlucky. It’s kinda our thing. Nothing ever works out in the end. My girlfriend breaks my heart, his mom leaves, he fucking dies, I don’t tell him how much I love him while I still can, his father gets to go away without facing consequences for being a piece of shit, I’m stuck here without him. Nothing ever works out” he’s rambling at this point. He grips the side of the boat as he struggles to breathe properly.

“Steve, hey, look at me” Robin runs a hand up and down his back. “Deep breaths. Don’t jump to conclusions”

“Yeah man, she’s right” Eddie speaks from the other side of the boat. “When you’re used to something you just assume it’s always gonna be like that. I thought my life was over when I became the first suspect for… for Chrissy’s death” his voice trembles when he says her name, like it wasn’t just witnessing a gruesome murder but also losing someone too. Someone important to him. “But then Dustin, and the other kids, and you guys came to help me. So maybe, for once, I won’t be the freak it’s convenient to blame.”

Steve stares at him while he tries steadying his breath. “Yeah. Maybe.”

—

“So uh, you’ve said something about being a certified lifeguard” Robin starts talking to fill the silence as they walk around the Upside Down. “So why were you working at Scoops Ahoy when you had the opportunity to do something which wouldn’t have, like, robbed you of your dignity?”

Eddie chuckles and cracks a joke about the uniform.

“Billy thought I looked good in it so shut up” Steve defends himself, but he’s not actually annoyed. Then his features soften. “You know, that’s such a dumb story actually. We had a stupid fight but he applied before me so he was already hired at the pool for the summer, and I was petty so I told him I was gonna find a job somewhere else. When I came home with four pairs of that uniform in a bag he just couldn’t stop laughing. He swore he wasn’t making fun of me but seeing him so happy was rare so I made a scene on purpose. Whined about the hat ruining my hair, about having to deal with kids and their sticky fingers all summer, about having to stay inside all day while he got to sit in the sun. And then he promised me he was gonna drop by everyday” he sniffles, clears his throat. “And he did. He did.”

“Yeah, I remember” Robin smiles softly. “You know, I liked him before I started to like you”

“Of course” Steve smiles back. “He was great”

“I already love the guy” Eddie adds.

“He barely ever got ice cream, he mostly just sat there to stare at Steve or chat with me” Robin tells him. “Except for this one time when he got in a tasting competition with Erica and th–”

A sudden noise interrupts her. They all points their flashlights towards Skull Rock, the place from which what they think was a signal from Billy came from.

Steve holds his breath.

Someone steps out of the dark and he almost falls on his knees. Almost bursts into tears. Almost thinks about marrying him right that second.

Of course, of course he’s sporting a smug smile.

“You finally put your swimming lessons to use, pretty boy? Skull Rock is a bit lonely without you.”