#ash i hate you for making me think all this (lying like i’ve never thought about anything like this before)

[polychromeedge]

committing filthy nasty dirty sins with daya in church. Discuss💭

i uh suddenly desperately need to take communion from daya…in the old way though where they place the wafer right on your tongue (tounge) instead of in your hand. and the wine too…she holds the cup to your mouth and gently tips it for you to take a sip but a little drop escapes and runs down your chin and she catches it with her thumb and makes you part your lips to suck it off her thumb bc you can’t let the blood of christ go to waste. you’re last in line so she waits for you to kneel and make the sign of the cross and then taps your arm and from the look she gives you know you would immediately do anything for her so you follow her and everyone is still kneeling in silent prayer after communion so no one sees her push you inside the confessional in the dimly lit rear of the chapel. she whispers little prayers in your ear as she fucks you with one hand tight over your mouth so you don’t scream while the priest finishes mass.

[witchmd13]

Your post got me thinking, and I was wondering what you think would’ve happened, long-term, had Arthur killed Uther? Would the kingdom follow a king who killed his father, how would Arthur treat magic knowing the deal took Ygraine but Uther knowingly entered a deal that was “a life for a life” to have Arthur, how would Arthur handle his ascension resulting from patricide, etc.? I’ve always wondered about the long-term consequences of that episode and all AUs resulting? Arthur hates magic for a good chunk of the show, in large part because he never learns the real reason behind the Purge (and people keep trying to kill him, but they’ve also been hunted for years because of Uther’s bad decisions, so 🤷‍♀️), but how would the kingdom and the council respond to Arthur committing regicide. There’s a bucket load of AUs that can happen from this episode alone, and we were ROBBED. I agree that Merlin should’ve told Arthur the truth, because it’s not Merlin’s secret to keep and he should maybe focus on trying to reverse the laws on magic since it’s actively killing his people and putting him in danger, along with the lives of the people keeping his secret, and I always enter a rabbit hole when thinking this episode, so I wanted to know your thoughts on what would have happened had Merlin not told Arthur Morgause was lying.

oooh this is such a good ask. thank you for the ideas! I'm gonna put this in bullet points so I wouldn't lose my thoughts.

Arthur wouldn't have been able to forgive himself. I think he'd try to live with it for a while, telling himself over and over that he did the right thing by his people and his mother, but eventually the guilt would be too much and his heart wouldn't be able to take it.

this can only lead will lead to 2 possibilities, imo, either he would become totally closed off, not allowing anyone in, or he'd turn the whole thing off and turn darker, a slightly more noble version of uther. I would go with the later if I'm writing an au because it's more interesting (and would totally crush my heart into ashes

the people would definitely follow a king who killed his father. especially if the incident got contained early on. history is full of stories like that. what i think would be a problem however are uther's men and council. someone would definitely try to use it to their advantage to cause an uprising or something. that would be such a good plot for an au with this premise. it would make things even darker for arthur, that he caused the kingdom to fall apart and ushered it into a civil war. it would at least triple his guilt.

i love your point about arthur's conflicted view on magic after he would kill uther. i think killing uther would make arther just cast everything he's ever told him about magic aside. after all, from what he said, arthur truly believed uther was just trying to "ease his guilt" by killing all the magical folk. i think with a little help from merlin and morgaus (who'd most likely become an ally in this scenario) he'd come to understand how magic is just a tool.

side note, i would kill for an au with merlin having to coexist in camelot with morgaus. he'd absolutely hate her influence on arthur, which let's be real, would be huge since she triggered this whole sequence of events and how lost arthur would be after it. she'd definitely try to create problems between him and arthur, seeing merlin's influence on arthur is clear to a blind man. the clashes would be epic.

merlin loved arthur too much. he can't think properly when it comes to him. he's so terrified of not only losing him, but causing him the tinniest amount of pain, that he makes such dumb choices in an attempt to protect him, even on his own and his people's expense. it's just who merlin is, he loved arthur and camelot and their friends. if you take that away, he wouldn't be merlin anymore, that's exactly why it's a tragedy, because everything that's happened was inevitable.

[there-are-many-ways-to-smile]

On reddit someone asked of Ashley and Emily are friends, and I thought this comment was interesting.

"They really did seem like friends until the bite fiasco happened. We see Ashley attempt to give Emily the benefit of the doubt as well as reassure Matt if she allows him to see Rmily and Mike talk. Emily shows concern for Ash as well as Chris when she and Matt runs into them after Josh’s apparent death. Ashley helps Sam bring Emily in after her escape from the mines. When the stranger walks in Emily can be seen with her hand on Ashley’s back, gently sitting her down. Emily is thankful to see Chris, Ash, and Mike if Chris lived outside or if Chris died she embraces Ashley and feels terrible about what happened.

Then Ashley suddenly freaks over one of the many injuries on Emily. I get that she is scared and panicked but goddamn would she calm down. One thing that makes me dislike Ashley for this is that she causes panic and stokes the fears of the others and leaves them questioning what was really said. She claims the stranger said they turn from eating each other. Not only does that not make sense but it’s not what he told them. Was she not paying attention? The stranger said a person has to commit cannibalism. That is completely different. Naturally everyone else, even Sam, starts questioning what was told to them. There was no reason to jump to that conclusion. The idea of giving Em the boot is Mike’s who’s also a pos in that scene, but the way Ashley hops on it is just gross. She starts treating Emily like a dirty animal. A rabid dog yelling at her to get lost. Aren’t they supposed to be friends?

Emily hasn’t done or said a bad thing to or about Ashley before this point. The hostility was crazy. And yes, her relationship with Mike drops to 0 if he murders Em, but if Mike doesn't execute Emily, Sam says he did the right thing. Ashley with a very bitter tone says “I hope you did”. That rubs me the wrong way the way she says that. The way she moves after Mike leaves is crazy spooky too lol. Idk I’ve seen a few people get weirded out at her movements during that part 😅.

The worst part of all of it tho is definitely when she considers hiding the truth to save face(haha) regardless of whether Emily was killed. Lying will drop her relationship with Sam to 0. That says a lot. There’s honestly no win for Ashley here. It’s either have Sam lose respect for her or have Emily hate her forever. If Ash does reveal the truth, she does seem to be really sorry about what just happened. Emily tho is furious and is well within her right to be so. She was nearly murdered by her friends and expect warm fuzzies? No way. Sam tries to diffuse things but fucks off probably realizing there’s no saving this relationship lol.

Emily tells Ash there’s no excuse to be made and she’s right. Ashley could have just listened to the stranger’s words clearly for starters. And the way she treated Emily for that brief moment was awful. No excuse. Emily walks away from her and Ash gets close again trying to tell Emily to understand. That’s when she loses it and strikes her down with one of the most iconic lines from the game. And can we talk about how if Emily is murdered, no one thinks to place her in a more dignified position😅?

Like can y’all close the EYE and mouth of your friend? Maybe lay her down on her back, cross her arms. Do something! Disrespectful leaving her slumped like that. Honestly a few deaths feels kinda odd, not just that one. Like how no one mentions Ashley’s random disappearance or Emily always act as if Matt never falls off the cliff instead defaulting to the tower collapse. Anyways, back on topic lol.

When they’re all running from the wendigos that Mike freed, the dumbass. Emily shoves Ashley which may be the worst thing she does because before then Emily never does anything evil like that. Like, ever. Some people pretend she does but she doesn’t. I don’t think this move was an attempt at Ashley’s life though. I really don’t think so. Do I still view it as a petty, vindictive, heinous act? As much as I love Em, yes. To me this feels like “you caused my life to be endangered so consider this payback”.

In short, they did seemed to be friends with no issue with one another but that ended when Ashley’s stupidity and hysteria nearly got Emily murdered." Written by a reddit user.

[ashley-slashley]

Is There Anybody Out There?

Summary: reader is coming to terms with trauma from a previous job experience, and ash comforts her

Rating: M/Mature

Warnings: cussing, trauma, depression, long paragraphs (it's just my style)

A/N: i apologize if ash is ooc, i tried. originally written in early 2022. yes, i based this on a work experience i had, and i'm not exaggerating when i compare it to full metal jacket. yes, the title is a reference to is there anybody out there by pink floyd. i apologize to everyone that's never seen full metal jacket or apocalypse now, those are the best comparisons i can make to the shithole i trudged through

“He said he was going to the store and coming back. What the hell’s taking him so long?” I think while wrapped up in a weighted blanket, occasionally sniffing the shirt he wore yesterday. Though he never goes to the woods, the fragrance of what I can only describe as a “woodsy musk” soothes my nerves only by a tad bit. My temperature isn’t at a fever pitch, but I’m slightly overheated. I refuse to remove the blanket. Laying on my side in fetal position on the brown couch, resting my head on his pillow. Every deep breath I take, I inhale his scent left on the pillow he always rests his head on at night or when relaxing or taking a nap. Why is it that at this time when Ash is not home, the mental anguish from that shithole of a job I got fired from is ambushing me? God fucking dammit, I hate having to deal with trauma.

    I would try to rest or just listen to The Wall, but I can only focus on him. The way he holds me at night with a loving vice grip, with a leg thrown over my hips, and burying my head into his broad, firm but gentle chest. Being secure in an impenetrable cocoon of affection and protection. Or how sometimes Ash lies on top of me, acting as a human weighted blanket. Shielding me from the malicious cruelty of humanity. I’ve never really opened up to Ash about how I was treated at my previous job. Then again, I’ve been somewhat acknowledging just how fucked up that establishment is for well over a year now. 

    “(Y/N)?” I heard his concern permeate the air, even if he was only on the other side of the trailer. “I’m on the couch” my voice trembled as my breaths remained the same heaviness they’ve had for over an hour. I heard bags and some items drop as the sound of his heavy footsteps drew nearer. Suddenly I was being lifted and held firmly against the familiar broad surface of Ash’s chest, I inhaled the calming aroma of his natural scent and the cologne he wears. “What’s wrong, dollface?” he asked while lying down and holding me against him. “You know how you get emotional flashbacks to the shit that happened at the cabin? Same concept, except it’s just now settling in my brain just how truly vile my previous job before S-Mart was.” I breathed into his chest. The grip Ash’s right arm had on my waist tightened while his left hand rubbed my back, “tell me everything, baby”. I recollected my thoughts and began recounting the bullshit I had to endure.

    “Let me preface this by saying to me, it was like being a foot soldier draftee in Vietnam, or being a prisoner in Guantanamo Bay, or being perceived as a communist in McCarthyist America.” I mustered out while feeling his heart rate pick up. “I was always on edge, anxious about being ambushed, stepping on a mine, doing something to have the trigger pulled on me or thrown to the firing squad. There were times I had to sprint to the restroom to either vomit my guts out or completely empty my bowels. Typically, it takes a lot to get my anxiety to that level.” I explained. I felt Ash kiss the top of my head, meanwhile one of his legs wrapped around my hips to pull me closer to him. “There was a caste system based on your job title, your age, and how long you've been with the company. Pretty much all the older employees, specifically the assistant manager and these two nasty women,  treated me like shit. To them, my rookie mistakes were the worst crimes against humanity one could imagine. When I had a question about anything, they would talk down to me like I was an oblivious idiot while holding the answer over my head, or when they would give me a direct answer it was bashed in my face. It seemed to me that the older folks I worked with all had a superiority complex over me.”

    “What the fuck?” Ash whispered into my hair, “what exactly does this have to do with Vietnam?” he softly asked. “You know how scared shitless the soldiers were, especially foot soldiers? Being concerned about stepping on a mine and turning into human confetti, walking into a trap and falling into a pit of spikes, walking into a tripwire and setting off a trap and dying. That’s what I had to put up with at this job. It gets worse. I myself was treated like Private Pyle, verbally and psychologically abused to the point of breakdown - except I had multiple breakdowns.” I felt his leg and hand tighten around me. “Though nobody insulted me like Sgt. Hartman, it’s the tone they would take when they pointed out each and every single mistake I made and - goddamn - pretty much just tell me I’m a failure and that I should go fuck myself. It was like how Hartman constantly singled out Pyle and kept chipping away at his sanity, the non-stop verbal abuse that Pyle received through the entirety of basic training that resonates with how I interpreted the harsh and condescending tone those women would use when talking to me.” His heart rate increased, and held me even tighter - digging his nails into me to make sure absolutely nobody takes me from him. Suddenly my back was on the couch, and Ash laid on top of me, and rested his head in between my neck and shoulder. His breaths were heavy against my skin, he was pissed. He doesn’t know that “it gets worse, Ash. That’s just the tip of the iceberg.” I anxiously shuddered.

    “Every time I made a mistake, no matter how small or insignificant it was, these women would - pretty much reenact the jelly donut scene. They’d take my mistake and hold it in front of my face and ask ‘WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? WHAT IS THAT, PRIVATE PYLE?’ and never explain what exactly I did that was incorrect. Or when Pvt. Pyle explains to Pvt. Joker that he believes everyone genuinely hates him for making a stupid mistake, I felt like everyone but the coworkers that were nice to me genuinely hated me - they probably did, but that’s their problem.” I felt the moisture of a single tear burrow into every individual pore it passed while slowly trekking down my cheek, “whenever I somehow begin thinking about that shithole, my chest tightens, and I feel like Willard in the first scene of Apocalypse Now. Waiting for a mission, Charlie squatting in the bush getting stronger, while I lay here getting weaker. The other day when our manager talked down to me and made me feel like an idiot for not immediately understanding something as a newbie is what caused me to just revert into my shell and not talk to anyone for the rest of the day.” I clutched onto Ash’s shirt, his heart rate still accelerated. I explained that when shit like that happens, I automatically begin doubting myself and my value as a human being if I can’t do a task perfectly on the first try. And the same goes for if I don’t think I’m as worthy or skilled as my peers, or being put on a duty that doesn’t take as much skill compared to what I was doing. “Kid”, my beloved said, “you lasted four months in that shithole, I probably would have sabotaged myself a month in if I was being treated like a pile of shit. I don’t know what about you made you survive for that long at that job, but I wish I had it” he looked me in the eye. Mom had a word she described me as, but I hate it because it causes me to cringe for some reason. It’s like the word moist, I can’t explain why I hate it. It’s not moxy, that word just sounds stupid. If you say it, I’m gonna throw myself to another dimension.

    I just wish I had you or someone like you to protect me from the bullshit life throws at me for its own depraved amusement, though you probably also feel this way considering what happened at the cabin. “I know I keep myself kinda closed off about my tragic backstory, but I kinda understand how you feel” Ash said, “I wish I could’ve had someone protect me from the bullying I got when I was growing up, and for the shit my…dad put me through.”. I vaguely know what he means by that, I’ve never met Ash’s “father”, and I don’t want to, not even to deface and make a joke about his grave. Ash has never explained why his birth name is Ashley Joanna Williams, but knowing women's health in the 50s, his mom was most likely put under general anesthesia and not conscious during and after the birth of her son, which gave Ash’s “father” the opportunity to make a cruel joke out of his first born for having XY chromosomes rather than XX chromosomes. Granted, Ash telling me his “father” was a racist, my beloved was most likely named for Ashley Wilkes from Gone With The Wind - great. Explaining a situation to a bully does literally nothing, even when it’s telling your manager to be straight to the point with their directions.

[miloadoniswrites13]

Blood and Tears

Ash was on her back, a blade pressed against her throat. “It’s been some time, hasn’t it? Do you still work for that pig? Or are you interested in finally joining me?” Ash said, looking up at her ex partner, a current government agent. 

“Shut your mouth.” Ana replied, her knife beginning to dig into the other woman’s throat. There was a long moment of silence between the pair before Ana spoke up again, the grip on her knife loosening. “Why…” 

“Why what, dear? You’ll need to be more specific.” Ash smiled, watching as Anastasia glared down at her. 

“Why did you turn your back on everyone? No, why did you turn on me?” Anastasia’s voice shook, the woman laughing and closing her eyes. "You had a stable government job. One that you can't just quit like you did! We killed bad people. We were the good guys. Ash…" 

“We weren’t the good guys Ana! Sure, we did kill bad people. But we also killed innocent people. People with families who weren’t doing any harm. Ana, It made me feel pathetic. I was so tired of feeling this way. So tired of being weak. Anastasia, you must understand. If I had stayed… I never would have been able to grow.” She whispered out, Anastasia’s hands trembling, the knife once again being firmly pressed to the other’s throat. 

“Don’t mess with me Ash! Tell me the real reason you left..! Was it something I did? I said? I know when you’re lying. You know this!” 

“You don’t.” 

“What?” 

“You don’t know anything about me. Anastasia… When’s my birthday?”

“I.. well..!” 

“What’s my favorite color? My last name? Hell, do I prefer coffee or tea?” There was a moment of silence, Ash opening her eyes. “You can’t answer any of that can you..?” 

“... No… No I can’t…” Anastasia said honestly, Ash laughing bitterly. 

“Your birthday is January the thirteenth. You hate it because everyone else thought it was unlucky. You’re a Capricorn, and you act just like one. Your last name is Cole, your favorite color is sky blue, which is basic, but that’s okay… Your birthstone is garnet, but your favorite type of rock to see is any kind of jasper, so much so that you named your cat that when you were a teenager… Oh, and you’re more partial to tea. Which I always thought was strange, considering you always look tired like you could use some coffee.. Shall I continue?”

“I’ve heard enough… Ash… Have you ever shown me your true self?” Anastasia clenched her fists. “Have you ever let that cocky facade down and told me the truth?” 

“Today I did. But never before, no.” Ash chuckled, her eyes closing once more. “I do know one more thing about you though, sweetheart.” 

“And what’s that?”

“You always bring a knife to a gun fight. I was really hoping you didn’t, you know? We’re both damned… But if you leave now… I’ll keep my eyes closed, so please. I can’t die first… I’ll have to defend myself if you try to stab me… Please don’t make me murder another inoccent person.” The click of a handgun was heard, the barrel now resting against Anastasia’s stomach, Ash keeping her eyes closed.

“... I guess you don’t know me as well as you thought… Either way, we’re screwed… you said it yourself.” Ash was able to hear the click of a different handgun, feeling it press against her forehead.

“It’s my fault… I should have been more honest. I should have stayed instead of getting us put in this position. There's no going back.” 

“Say… Ash… why don’t we go out together?” Anastasia looked down at Ash who smiled, moving to aim at Anastasia’s head, and Anastasia moving to aim at hers. 

“I was so scared of my feelings… you know? I was afraid if I ever got too close, you’d think I was too soft… We could have been so good together… Then I had to go and join some vigilante assassins…” 

“It’s really sad… Because I loved you from the start.” Both women paused before Ash let out a shaky breath. 

“On three?” She asked, her free hand grabbing Anastasia’s, their fingers intertwining. 

“Of course… On three. Don’t miss now…” 

“I would never… One bullet’s all I ever need… But… the same goes to you… Don’t miss, dear.” 

“One…” 

“Two…” 

“Three…” 

BANG! BANG!

Silence filled the room, Anastasia collapsing on top of Ash, blood pooling around them… Blood, and tears… 

Ash could only hear ringing, her hands trembling as she dropped her now empty gun, the woman shaking Anastasia’s shoulder. She started to tremble when there was no response… of course there was no response. 

“A-Ana..” Ash whispered, her shaky hands grabbing the gun from the still warm hand, she pointed it at herself and pulled the trigger… it was empty… She looked beside her, seeing the bullet hole that had narrowly missed her head, more tears escaping down her cheeks. 

No more bullets… Of course. This was just Ash’s luck… The lover she never got to have, taken by her own hand and dying atop of her…

            Fin.

[jscysbl]

23 Things You Should Know Before Dating Me

The mere concept of doing so is unheard of. Some people may point out that I did indeed have a significant other once, but we never actually went on dates.

I’m not very good at the whole intimacy thing. Don’t get me wrong, interlacing fingers with the right person is like finding a home in a pair of hands and hugs from behind are the best kind of surprise, but being awkward is the only trophy I’ve ever earned that my name is rightfully engraved on.

I hate when people say “fetch” when they aren’t referring to a dog, getting a pail of water, or making a Mean Girls reference.

My hair is a chameleon that changes color with my swings of mood, so don’t ever get used to it looking a certain way, especially since…

All the bleach and dye may one day catch up with me and I’ll lie in my grave as a bald, unattractive woman.

Even with hair on my head I am an unattractive woman.

I actually want to be cremated and not buried, that way no one can look at my cake face corpse lying inside the coffin and think man, what an unattractive woman.

That overly extended, not-at-all joke isn’t the main reason; I just seem to prefer some of the alternative options, like spreading my ashes in a field of sunflowers or being made into a tree.

My thoughts are like a spontaneous tourist, flying at several miles an hour from place to place without a speck of correlation.

I can be the most annoying grammar nazi sometimes, even when my own grammar is at war with itself.

I keep a folder full of random uncommon words on my external hard drive just because I’m so fascinated with the obscurities of the English language.

I keep a jar on my bedside table full of colorful stars folded up out of thin strips of paper. On the inside of many are wishes expressed in black ink scrawl. I don’t know why I bother to continue such a tradition, when not one has bothered to come true.

I used to wish to become a singer. My singing career ended with the sound of two buzzers and the abrupt stop of an instrumental track at a local talent show.

Sometimes I hang my bath towels on my microphone stand.

Sometimes I want to hang myself because I cannot stand being me.

I haven’t graduated college yet, but I’ve got a PhD in making people disappear.

I know I’m fucked up, but even so I’m hoping someone will find beauty in myself that I cannot see.

I know it’s illogical to search for beauty in myself.

I also know it’s illogical to wish that someone will love you when you can’t even love yourself, but I do anyway, because even when I don’t believe in love at first sight, I do believe in miracles.

I do not lack in self-confidence because I want pity in the form in shining compliments, nor because I want some kind of melancholic “cool kid” image.

I lack in self-confidence because I genuinely do not like who I am. I look in the mirror and see eyes that have seen wasted time. I see bones that jut out of a body like a foot in the door; an invasion unwelcome; an invitation for fear to waltz on inside. I see a flicker that could have been a flame; if boredom and laziness were used as firewood; if more was put into wild, burning passion. I see a draft that the artist has forgotten he had ever worked on. I see a work-in-progress that will never see any more progress; one that will remain untouched and unfinished and left behind while greater pieces see the spotlight.

I do not want my lover to feel like they have to remedy the scratches of a broken record. That’s technology no one should have to hear of or care for anymore. Our love should feel like a steady stream, no buffering or ads in-between. Our memories should be like a playlist of our favorite melodies, the very ones you want to rewind over and over and over without the disc getting stuck in the machine. So…

I am not looking to date anyone right now. Not until I know—with 100% of this crippled spirit—that I don’t want to pause this song named heartbeat.

[edgessystem]

Batman Chiroptera: practice scene 7

[ID: Bruce Wayne (white man, black hair, blue eyes, wearing a black suit and red tie) and Harvey Dent (ethnically Chinese man, black hair, brown eyes, wearing a grey suit and black tie) stand in front of a faded red curtain, smiling at each other. Harvey has his hand on Bruce’s Elbow)

9:16PM, May 7, 'C7

"Harvey?" Bruce asked, opening the door to the balcony.

Harvey startled when he heard him and hurriedly snuffed out his cigarette before tossing it into the gardens below. He turned around with a grin. "Bruce!"

Bruce closed the doors behind him and walked over to lean on the railing beside his best friend. "You really shouldn't smoke," he commented. "It's bad for you."

Harvey sighed as he looked up at the moon. "I know. I don't even know why or when I started. I hate the taste."

Bruce scowled at the pack that poked out of Harvey's jacket pocket. "So stop buying them," he suggested. He knew, of course, that quitting was never that simple, but Harvey genuinely seemed to dislike them.

"I've tried," Harvey admitted. "But I always seem to end up with more. Same goes for lighters."

Bruce shook his head. It wasn't out of disappointment or disbelief, really, but something in-between. "You know, Harvey, if you need someone to help you quit, I can-"

"I'm not addicted, Bruce, I promise," Harvey said. "It's just a habit. I don't crave them at all."

Bruce couldn't keep the concern from showing on his face. He trusted his friend implicitly, and he knew Harvey would never intentionally lie to him, but he worried that maybe Harvey was lying to himself.

Harvey frowned when he saw Bruce's expression. "Really, don't worry about me," he tried to assure.

"Okay," Bruce acquiesced, at least for now. He wasn't ready to let this go for good.

"But I don't think you came out here to teach me about lung safety. What's up?" Harvey asked after a moment of comfortable silence. Silence was always comfortable between them. They just got each other like that.

"Right, they want us backstage," Bruce said, a slight pang of shame hitting him for forgetting his original goal. "The auction starts soon."

Harvey nodded, then brushed a few specks of ash off of his jacket. He clapped Bruce on the back and then walked in ahead of him. Bruce smiled fondly at him as they made their way backstage.

The auction director snapped at the two of them the moment they arrived. "And just where have you two been?"

"Enjoying the party," Bruce said immediately, covering for his friend. The auction director probably wouldn't appreciate being told a smoke break took priority over the auction. "There are lots of gorgeous women out there, I just couldn't resist!" He knew his playboy reputation would make the lie believable. It wasn't even a total lie. There were plenty of gorgeous women out there. He was just too focused on finding his friend to talk to any of them.

The director huffed in annoyance. "Well your choice of date tonight has nothing to do with how they look," she said, "now get over to hair and makeup. You need to look dazzling."

Harvey shot Bruce a grateful glance as the two pushed past the other men they would be standing on stage with. They both sat down as a flurry of makeup brushes and hairspray attacked them.

"So what did you end up deciding on for your charity?" Bruce asked once his face was finished. He wanted to distract himself from the wet, heavy feeling of the pastes on his skin.

"Amrose Conservation Area," Harvey answered, then coughed as setting powder dusted into his mouth. "They've been having a really hard time hiring enough security."

"Security?" Bruce asked, shifting in his chair and earning an annoyed noise from the hair stylist standing behind him. "What does a conservation area need security for?"

Harvey hummed in thought. "I'm not sure."

Bruce quirked a brow at him. "Harvey, you're the most well-researched man I know. It's not like you to support something without knowing everything there is to know about it."

Harvey laughed nervously―or was it sheepishly?―"It was kind of last minute," he admitted. "I've been really bogged down with cases."

Bruce chuckled. "You've got to spend less time at the office. You're working yourself to death!" A pain in his shoulder called him a hypocrite. He'd been spending more and more time each night as the Bat, where he was actually putting himself at risk of death.

"Time's up, boys!" called the director, pointing at a clock. It read two minutes to show time. "Line up."

Bruce and Harvey both rose from their chairs, much to the stylists' chagrins. They desperately made a few last sweeps with a comb before deciding they would have to call it done.

"I know, but all of these cases are important, Bruce. And the courts are so backed up, I can't just take the flashy ones the DA wants me on for publicity," Harvey said.

"You could stand to drop a few of them," Bruce replied. "There are other prosecutors in-" he was swatted on the back by a rolled up newspaper. Bruce looked indignantly down at the auction director. "Excuse me?"

"Quiet," she hissed. "They can hear you out there."

Bruce clamped his mouth shut. They could continue the conversation later, after all.

There was a din in the audience on the other side of the curtains. Bruce shifted in place uncomfortably. He was usually fine being the center of attention, but something about the stage changed that.

Harvey placed a comforting hand on his elbow. "Remember, it's just a thirty second speech," he said softly as the announcer made her introduction to raucous cheering. Bruce smiled at his friend in silent thanks.

All they had to do was stand there and look pretty, give a short speech about their charity of choice, and then smile as the women bid on them. It was rather dehumanizing when he looked at it like that, but it seemed manageable. He wasn't putting on a performance.

His anxieties returned when the curtain pulled open, though, and before he knew it he found himself taking a step back and hoping that he blended in with the shadows despite the well-lit stage. He hadn't expected quite so many people to be in the audience. There were at least fifty of them, and each and every one of them was looking intently at the eight bachelors on stage. As the tallest among them, Bruce felt sure he was drawing the lion's share.

The announcer continued her speech, and Bruce barely heard it, only snapping back to reality on her final sentence: "I give you Mr. Harvey Dent!"

Harvey gave his elbow one last squeeze before walking forwards with a million dollar smile. He addressed the crowd with the same cool confident charm Bruce had seen him use when he greeted a jury. He couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips. He was incredibly proud of Harvey.

"Ladies," he started. "I'd normally say, 'and gentlemen,' but that doesn't seem to be the case here," he joked. There were several giggles from the crowd. "And normally I'd also say my name is Harvey, but that's already been taken care of."Another giggle. "Today I'm representing the Amrose Conservation Area, just North of Gotham. It's home to the last known patch of Rosaceae Vularis, more commonly known as the Wild Thorny Rose. Without conservation areas like Amrose, hundreds of beautiful plants like that could go extinct in a matter of years. So please, join me in supporting our local ecology. The bid starts at two hundred dollars."

There was a scramble of eager bidders wanting first stab at the first bachelor, but they died out fairly quickly. The final bid of one thousand dollars went to a gorgeous redhead seated at the back of the hall.

"Congratulations," Bruce whispered as Harvey returned to the line of bachelors with a broad smile on his face. "You got a looker."

"I really did. I'm actually looking forward to this now," he whispered back.

The announcer sent the two of them a warning look before she introduced the next bachelor.

Five more had taken their turns and the seventh was just stepping up to make his speech when Bruce heard a scuffle back stage. He took a surreptitious glance and spotted his butler in a whisper argument with the director at the back door. He had a dog Bruce had never seen before on a leash.

Bruce felt his face heat up. He'd forgotten he'd jokingly asked Alfred to bring him a prop of some kind to help sell his charity. He hadn't expected him to take it seriously, and had expected even less for him to bring a live animal to an event like this. He supposed he should have, though. Alfred lived to serve.

"Excuse me," Bruce whispered to Harvey, who followed his gaze and nodded. He walked over to the announcer and leaned over to speak in her ear. "I'm terribly sorry. Something important just came up. I'll be back before this guy's done." When he withdrew she was looking into his eyes breathlessly with a blush on her cheeks. When she nodded she practically drooled. Part of him was tickled that she found him so attractive that such a small action got that reaction out of her, but the other part was annoyed at her lack of professionalism.

He didn't have time to dwell on it though, as he slipped backstage. "Alfred," he greeted, making sure to keep his voice low, but still drawing a glare from the director. He wanted to keep this short so he didn't bother with introductions or pleasantries. "Thank you for bringing..." He looked down at the dog. It was a grey schnauzer with white fur on its front paws and around its mouth. "... Scruffy here."

"Her name is Matilda," Alfred corrected.

"You asked for this?" The director hissed. She pointed at the dog with a disgusted look on her face as though it wasn't immediately clear what she was talking about. "Why didn't you clear it with me?"

"Must have slipped my mind," Bruce lied with a shrug. Really he was just as annoyed as she was, but he couldn't bear to step on Alfred's hard work like that. He looked like he'd run all over town.

He took the bright red leash from Alfred's hand and brought Matilda to heel. Had Alfred really gone to the effort of matching the leash to his tie? The man truly did nothing by halves.

Bruce walked back to the stage, hiding just behind the curtain for his introduction to re-enter. He didn't want to cause a commotion with the dog until then. Matilda followed like a perfect show dog, and Bruce wondered if it might be because that's what she was.

He met eyes with Harvey, whose shoulders shook with barely restrained mirth when he looked down at Matilda. It had been a joke when they were young that Bruce was a cat person; that he hated dogs and would never be caught dead walking one.

His playful scowl back was cut short by the seventh bachelor returning to his place in the line (having earned a tidy two thousand three hundred dollars) and the announcer speaking again. "And finally, at last but most certainly, most definitely not least: Our very own Prince of Gotham, Mr. Bruce Wayne!"

On cue, Bruce stepped out from behind the curtain and walked Matilda out with him. He graciously took the microphone from the announcer. "Good evening," he started, his voice carrying no hit of his anxiety from earlier. He looked down at the schnauzer beside him and wondered if maybe she was the perfect distraction. She looked back at him with an unknowable emotion. Bruce had enough trouble intuiting the emotions of human faces. He had no hope with dogs.

Bruce chuckled heartily into the microphone as he looked back over to the crowd. "This is Matilda, isn't she the best?" The crowd responded positively. Bruce sucked in a deep breath, mentally discarding the speech he'd originally prepared. Time to lie his ass off to make this work. "The truth is, she wasn't always. At least that's not what her owners thought. She was put into an overcrowded shelter and was slated for, well..." he trailed off, letting the audience fill in the rest to tug on their heartstrings a little bit. He should probably have felt bad for lying to manipulate their emotions, but somehow it didn't phase him in the slightest.

"She's lucky I found her," Bruce said. He kneeled down and ruffled the fur on the top of her head, hoping it looked like an affectionate gesture. It was what his father used to do to him when he wanted to brag. "And I'm lucky she found me." If the 'aww' coming from the audience was any indication, his act had worked wonders.

"But I won't be there next time," he said as he stood back up, passion flowing through his words. "And I don't want any animal to suffer the fate Matilda narrowly escaped just because I wasn't there to do anything about it." He took in a shuddering breath as he realized he wasn't talking about dogs and euthanasia anymore. He was talking about Gothamites and senseless crime.

'Reign it in, Bruce,' he thought to himself.

He slipped back to his original script, clinging to it for safety; though he had to rearrange it a bit to make it make sense. "That's why the charity I'm representing tonight is the Thompkins Animal Shelter. It's a no-kill shelter that recently opened on Park Row, and I know it's not the best part of town, but that's where it's most needed."

Bruce took another deep breath as he assessed the audience's reaction, nearly wincing at a few faces that read disdain. He decided impulsively to end on a confident note and steeled himself for it. "I truly believe in this cause, so while the other bachelors are matching their top bids, I will be tripling mine!"

There was a small gasp from the crowd at that. He was promising quite a bit more than expected of him, after all. But it should really have come as no real shock. He was his mother's son, and she was a well-known philanthropist when she was alive.

The thought of his mother made made his throat constrict, and he had to cough before speaking again. "We'll start the bid at five hundred dollars," Bruce said, handing the microphone back to the announcer.

Instantly the crowd erupted with bids, quickly climbing in increments of a hundred, then eventually five. Whether it was from his tear-jerking story, or pure lust for him, Bruce couldn't tell. Either were possible in this city. He put on his best smile, but he didn't feel it.

The bidding stopped suddenly at eight thousand dollars and the atmosphere of the room turned tense. Bruce didn't allow his smile to fall, but looked around the room with concern. The highest bid was held by a stern looking older woman that seemed to have control of the room. She glared at anyone who seemed like they were about to put their bidding paddle up until they yielded, and Bruce wanted to frown. That wasn't very sporting or charitable of her.

The announcer desperately lowered the asking raise, hoping to give the room its momentum back, but the women were thoroughly cowed. How she'd managed that, he didn't know, but he decided he wanted to find out after the auction. That would be a useful tool for his night work.

The announcer called out first and second call, and just as he was about to secure a date with the intimidating woman―and a perfect opportunity to pick her brain―another voice rang out from the otherwise silent crowd, as clear and as cutting as a bell.

"Twenty-five thousand dollars!"

Bruce felt his jaw go slack as his eyes fell on the woman with the raised hand. She was a stunning blonde, sat right beside Harvey's redhead. She smiled wide and beautiful. But it wasn't her apparent riches or looks that amazed Bruce. It was her dedication to the charity. If she'd wanted to go on a date with him, all she had to do was raise by a few hundred, not over fifteen thousand.

"Tw-twenty-five thousand dollars, for number thirty-eight," the announcer stammered after taking a moment to recover. "Does anyone raise?"

Unsurprisingly, nobody did. The other highest bid for the night was a mere ten thousand. Bruce was aware of the whispers that started up around the room, as well as the announcer giving her closing speech, but he didn't process to any of it. His attention was fixed squarely on the woman who'd won his date, and he thought distantly that maybe she could win his heart.

He watched as she rose with the rest of the audience. He intended to greet her―to thank her for her generosity―but instead of walking towards the stage she folded into the crowd of people who were going home empty-handed. Something in him broke as he lost sight of her.

Bruce whirled around, surprising Matilda with the sudden movement of her leash. "Miss..." he looked at the name tag on the front of the announcer's bright orange dress. "...Hill, what's my date's name?"

Miss Hill looked at him with a chastising gaze, clearly unimpressed by his impatience. She pulled out and looked through the guest list, and Bruce could swear she was purposefully going slower than she had to. He bit down on his tongue as he waited for a name, his fingers fidgeting nervously at his sides.

"Number thirty-eight is a Miss Selina Kyle," Miss Hill said dryly.

Bruce bounded down the stairs as soon as he'd heard it, throwing a "thank you" over his shoulder as an afterthought. He caught Harvey's confused eye as he passed the redhead in the center aisle. She stopped to say something to him but he didn't hear it as he rushed past her to the doors to the lobby.

'Selina Kyle,' Bruce thought, rolling the name over his tongue. It had a very nice sound to it.

-----

A/N: Harvey Dent is of Chinese descent in Chiroptera. There is no particular reason for this other than it feels right to me for my interpretation of the character. You can expect to see more characters with perhaps unexpected character design elements as Chiroptera continues.

master list | scene 6 | scene 8

[katyasrussianaccent]

i don't wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips (corpse x reader)

Summary: Corpse suggests you flirt with each other to mess with the fans. What happens when you suddenly catch feelings?

Authors Note: This has been in my brain for so long so I decided to write it. May or may not write a part 2, im not sure. Lemme know what you think! My requests are open for fic/headcannons aswell 💖

It should have been simple.

Flirt, mess with the fans a little, sit back and relax.

It should have been simple.

You remember Corpse coming to you with the idea.

“Why would we do that?” you had asked, frowning at your phone screen. It had been another late night phone conversation with him; something that was starting to become a regular occurrence.

You pictured him shrug as he answered. “Fun?”

“Are you so bored you wanna make a fake relationship with me?”

“Not a relationship. Just do what we do now, but like, more.”

You had agreed before your brain had even registered it. On paper it was straightforward. You already flirted a little anyway, you were naturally a flirtatious person, and so was he. It made sense; or at least you had told yourself that it did. You knew the fans already shipped you together, you saw the things they tweeted as you occasionally lurked the ynhusband tag on Twitter. It was just innocent fun right? No-one was going to get hurt.

For a little while that was true. For a little while he called you baby and you called him darling and it meant nothing. Your face didn’t feel flush when he commented on your latest Instagram post and your heart didn’t do a little flip when he would call you just to see how you were. The phone conversations were your favourite; curled up in bed with the phone on your pillow, trading secrets into the night. He had suddenly become this constant in your life, this almost routine familiarity like brushing your teeth or going to get milk.

You weren’t sure what changed, when it had gone from being innocent fun to meaning something. It was like someone had flicked a switch, and Corpse was no longer a warm glow but this bright, blinding light that hurt your eyes to look at too long. It was almost cruel, the way you wanted something so unobtainable; the universe’s idea of a joke had no humour in it. The thing with Corpse was he was so unaware of the power he had. He was mysterious yes, but he was faceless among a sea of faces; of course people were drawn to him. And you were just another.

You started to pull away. You played different games with different people, you ignored his tweets. It was easier, if you never interacted with him, you could pretend there was nothing but shallow feelings instead of the crashing waves that threatened to pull you under. The fans had started to notice; your streams were filled with questions that you refused to answer.

“Where’s Corpse?” you read aloud as you scrolled down the chat. “Probably in his house? Go ask him.” Your tone was bitter even to you and you inwardly cringed. He hadn’t contacted you in 2 weeks, and while you were thankful, you were hurt by it. It was stupid and hypoctritical of you to be upset by something that was your own doing, and you weren’t sure what you had expected from him. He had other friends, other people to talk to, why would he have cared about you anyway?

Your phone lit up next to you, and you ignored the pang of disappointment at Rae’s picture flashing up.

Rae: Among Us???

You hesitated for a second. The likelihood of Corpse being there was high, but you knew deep down he wouldn’t say a thing to you, not on stream or in front of your friends. You could just ignore him, like you had been doing and it would be fine. You weren’t sure you believed yourself anymore.

“Guys, you want to watch me play Among Us? I’m not sure who’s playing, other than Rae.” You looked at the fast flowing stream of affirmatives and emojis. Guess you had to do it now. You opened up the game and joined the lobby.

“-yeah she looks really fucking cute,” you heard Corpse say as you logged in. You looked down at your outfit,; he definitely wasn’t talking about you in your oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. You had been on stream for a few hours now; your eyeliner was smudged a little and any lipstick had worn off with the constant drinking and licking your lips. No, he definitely wasn’t talking about you.

“Hey guys,” you said tentatively, swallowing down the feeling of jealousy at Corpse’s previous words.

A chorus of greetings hit you, and you smiled at their enthusiasm. You had played with Rae, Sykunno and Toast a few times before, but Felix, Jack and Ash were new to you, though you knew of them.

“Hey Y/N,” Corpse said. You had hoped after 2 weeks he wouldn’t still affect you so much, but the way your stomach turned said otherwise.

“Hey Corpse,” you replied, hoping your tone was casual.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?” he asked.

“Oh. Uh yeah, I’ve been a bit busy I guess, how are you?” You looked down as you answered, picking at your nail polish. You glanced at the chat that was filled with messages.

corpsesbaby: You can always tell when someones lying coz they look down” llamadelrey: why is this so awkward lmao arent they friends??” simpsforrae: This is like is a breakup i swear

“I’ve been okay, thanks” Corpse answered, drawing your eyes off the chat and back to the game. You nodded as you muted your mic to go back to your stream.

“I hope I don’t get imposter, I always suck at that so much.” You watched as the screen counted down and the word IMPOSTER flashed up alongside Corpse’s name. “Guess I jinxed it guys.”

Great. Not only were you imposter, you were imposter with Corpse, which meant you would have to actually speak to him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to.

You both followed Rae as she walked up towards Greenhouse, and you cornered her while she did her task, killing her quickly.

“Everyone seemed to go right, so we should vent back towards cafeteria to avoid suspicion,” Corpse said.

“Okay,” you answered. You vented together, and you muted your mic to laugh. “This is kinda cosy guys.” You said to your chat. You briefly imagined what it would be like in real life to be so close to him.

You moved to Admin where Toast was doing his task. Before you could say a word, Corpse had already killed him and you both vented outside Cafeteria. “Fuck, that was so close,” you muttered, chuckling a little.

“Don’t worry, I got your back,” he replied, making your heart sing a little.

“Oh my hero,” you said, making a point of swooning to your chat, your voice high and airy. “How will I ever repay you?”

He chuckled, “You shouldn’t ask questions like that.”

You flushed at the suggestive tone he had taken, and you hoped it wasn’t noticeable but judging by the comments in your chat, it clearly had been. This was another issue you had with Corpse; he always made these type of comments with you and it was really annoying. You knew there was no chance he was being serious, and sometimes you wished he would stop it purely because it got your hopes up.

delilah: shes BLUSHING dreamofme: uWu yn uWu

You opened your mouth to respond when Dead Body Reported flashed up, bringing your thoughts back to the game.

“Toast and Rae are dead,” Sykuuno said. “I found Rae in Greenhouse and Toast in admin.”

“I was in balcony, I went there from the cafeteria,” you said confidently. You hated being Imposter, especially being teamed with Corpse, who was so good at the game, you had a lot of pressure to do well.

“I was in MedBay, I didn’t see you YN,” Ash accused.

“You only see if they enter through the left door. She entered through the other door,” Corpse answered for you.

“And how do you know that?” Felix asked.

“I was in Cafeteria,” Corpse replied.

“You could’ve vented YN,” Jack said.

“No I couldn’t have, if Ash was in MedBay, she would have seen me. Unless she wasn’t in MedBay,” you suggested, smirking to your cam as you muted. “It’s not going too bad I don’t think? Always feel like I’ve been arrested when I’m Imposter.”

“Little sus of you Ash to say you were in MedBay when you weren’t,” Corpse said. You gaped a little at how easy it was for him to manipulate the situation, it was almost scary.

Ash argued as the other players began to agree and discuss among themselves. You smiled in success at the text on the screen.

Ash has been ejected.

You split up this time, and while you hadn’t really spoken during the game, you kind of missed Corpse’s astronaut next to yours, and you said that to your chat. “Haha, our colours did look cute together, I agree.”

Any previous trepidation you had had disappeared as soon as you had heard his voice; and you realised how much you had missed him. You would simply just need to deal with your feelings; they would go away eventually anyway. You just hoped it wasn’t too late for you to start again with him.

You walked to MedBay with Skyunno, making small talk as you did.

“I’m glad to see you playing with us, it’s been a little while,” he said and you felt bad that you would have to kill him. As you turned towards him, ready to kill as he did his task, Jack walked in. You mouthed oops at the cam.

“What’s going on here?” Jack asked, suspicion in his voice.

“I was just saying how nice it was to have YN here,” Sykunno replied. You stood and faked your task, watching the green bar fill as you did. It would be too risky to kill here.

“Ah yeah, Corpse has been asking after you constantly,” Jack said. You blinked at the response, it had caught you off guard.

“Oh?” you replied simply. You mentally shrugged it off. Of course he would have asked about you, you were friends, that was all.

DEAD BODY REPORTED

“Felix was dead in Reactor,” Corpse announced. “Oh Corpse, you’re taking a risk here” you said to your chat.

“I was in MedBay with Jack and Sykunno,” you replied, smiling as they agreed. “Where were you Ash?”

She sighed sadly. “I was in Labs, but I was doing a task, I swear!” You all agreed quickly that Ash would be the next voted out.

“2 to go,” you said triumphantly. “I thought I was gonna drag Corpse down, but it’s going okay!”

The round started again and you could feel yourself getting tired. Hopefully this wouldn’t be too much longer to finish the game.

You circled round Corpse a few times, hoping that he would understand your signal. Luckily he did, and you both vented to Decontamination where Skyunno and Jack were. The room had already started to emit steam, making it extremely easy for you both to vent unnoticed and kill them both.

You grinned at the Victory message that flashed up.

“Good game guys!” you said. The others congratulated you and Corpse on your win and you smiled at the sound of your names together. You had it bad.

“It was all YN,” Corpse said.

“Pfft you ssh being humble, it was all you,” you replied, taking your hair out of your ponytail and running your hand through it.

“Your hair looks nice,” Corpse commented and your eyes widened. Your heart started to beat a little quicker. How long had he been watching your stream?

“It’s bad to watch someone’s stream without telling them,” you replied, making a show of pouting for the camera.

He laughed a little. “What can I say, I’m a bad guy,” he said, singing the last words. You laughed at the sudden Billie Eilish.

“Guys, either play another game, or get a room,” Felix interrupted. You blushed a little and rolled your eyes, the chat going crazy from the corner of your eye.

“And that’s my cue to exit,” you said, yawning. “Bye guys, have a good night!” You wished everyone and your chat goodnight before closing the stream and leaning back in your chat. You couldn’t believe Corpse had been watching you. You hadn’t said anything too incriminating, but still.

You prepared for bed, settling back into the softness of your pillows as you grabbed your phone - a terrible habit you really needed to stop.

Corpse: Can I call you?

You gulped at the message that appeared on your screen, a gnawing feeling of nervous clung to your throat as you typed yes. His name came up almost instantaneously and your hand shook as you pressed to accept the call.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even while your heart beat erratically in your chest.

“It was nice playing with you again,” he commented.

You sat up a little as you held the phone against your ear. “Did you call me to tell me that?”

“I haven’t spoken to you in a while.”

You sighed a little. “Yeah, I’ve been a bit busy, sorry - “

“You’re lying to me and I don’t know why,” he replied. You had never heard his voice like that before; so angry and hurt. You tapped your foot against your mattress as you thought what to say.

“I -”

“Did I do something?” he asked. You had been so selfish; blocking him out to avoid being hurt, but you hadn’t thought about his feelings. He was more popular than you were, you had assumed he would be fine, that he wouldn’t care if you were around or not.

“No, you didn’t do anything, I swear -”

“Then what? Because I thought we were friends, close friends and then suddenly you pretty much disappear. But you’re still streaming with other people. It’s pretty shitty of you.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek and looked up, the sting of tears threatening to fall. “It was really shitty of me, I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” he asked. “Please just tell me.”

“I don’t know what I’m meant to say,” you replied softly.

“What do you want to say?”

You blinked, the anticipation of unspoken words caught in your throat, making it hard to swallow. The taste of them was bitter on your tongue. “I...I have feelings for you.”

There. You had said it. There was no taking it back now, and you felt like your heart was about to shatter with every single second of silence that passed. You could hear him swallow on the other end of the phone. “Are you saying you’re in love with me?”

You bit your lip, taking in the meaning of the question he had asked. It wasn’t something you had thought of, you hadn’t conceptualised your feelings for him, not put them in a box labelled love or anything. “I don’t know. I feel something for you. And it kinda sucks being your friend and having those feelings. So I pulled away.”

“Why does it suck?”

You laughed bitterly. “Why wouldn’t it? Feeling something for someone that doesn’t feel the same is fucking shitty.”

“I asked you to flirt with me YN -”

“Yeah, for fun,” you interrupted.

“No, I said for fun, but really I just wanted you to,” he replied. “I feel something for you too. How could I not? Has anything I’ve ever said to you sounded like it was just for fun?” You smiled at his response, your heart no longer on the fit of breaking, but suddenly doing flips and soaring through your chest, radiating warmth through your body.

“Oh,” you said, your brain was overloaded with thoughts, and was apparently no longer capable of coherent sentences.

“Oh? That’s a great response, thanks,” he teased, but you could tell he was smiling as he spoke.

“I wasn’t expecting you to say that, I don’t really know what to say honestly,” you replied.

“Well, baby, how about you say yes to a date?” he asked.

“Yes.”

[difx-writes]

Wildest Dreams - In the Death of the Night

Masterlist

After turning 10 and losing her soulmate, Marinette would imagine how Damian Wayne would be.

Would he be tall or short? Did he have blond hair or brown or did he dyed it? Would he be shy or have a bold personality? Perhaps he was an artistic soul, a poet, a writer? Or would he be a baker like her parents? Why did his last name change?

The wonders and questions took over her mind for days with no end.

On good days, she imagined how he would interact with her friends, how her parents would take him in as their own son, how he would fit into her life.

She liked to talk to him, pretending there, alive, with her. She asked his opinion on what to wear, how she should do her hair, what colors with go well with the design. He was her voice of reason. Talking to "Damian" brought a smile to her face, even when she knew she was deluding herself.

On bad days, she pretended he was right there with her, comforting her, encouraging her, whispering that everything would be alright... Sometimes it worked and she felt better the next days but most times she felt bitter, she felt robbed of a future where he was in her life.

The realization that the person she was supposed to share her soul with was no longer alive, that his death was painful, gruesome, and... lonely... It always ended with her taking a few days to prevent a breakdown...

When she turned 13, Hawkmoth appeared and Marinette became Ladybug, the hero of Paris.

Soon after, Marinette stopped talking with "Damian", she couldn't afford to wonder about him anymore. She couldn't afford the bliss of her own delusions. She couldn't afford to let herself grief and fall pray to Hawkmoth's manipulation.

As she couldn't fail Paris and its citizens, Damian Wayne mostly disappeared from her life.

But there were days when her “friends” demanded a lot from her, akumas were too violent and draining and everything was just too much, those the godawful days.

On godawful days she wished Damian was there to take her away to a place she could feel she belonged. Away from everything to a place she could call a home.

_______

Most nights Damian recalls a voice talking to him during the time he was dead.

His soulmate, he supposed, talked to him regularly, she started her day asking his opinion on her outfit for the day, when at home she would tell him how her day went, what she did with her friends, what she learned in class, etc...

At first, Damian was pretty much annoyed that he couldn't "rest in peace" with all the noise pollution but after a few weeks, he slowly started to tolerate her talking to him.

Unfortunately, he couldn't talk to her nor see her very clearly so it was a pleasant surprise when Marinette would ask his opinion to make a decision, she always picked what he chooses.

Perhaps it was their bond that allowed her to know what he was thinking without actually hearing each other's thoughts. Or maybe they were more in sync with one another. Most likely it was pure luck on her part. (Him being dead is enough proof of how bad his luck was.)

In the months he was dead, Damian learned a grand lot Marinette. He liked how she made him feel he wasn't alone, like how her voice calmed him when he remembered the family he left behind in his death. Marinette was his only lighthouse in the vast void of the afterlife

_______

Impotent, despair, and hopeless.

That's how Damian felt every time Marinette had to relive his death. He hated it so much. She didn't deserve that and it broke his heart every damn time.

Why did he have to die? Why did it have to be in such a painful way? Why did she have to feel it on repeat over and over and over again? Was it a twisted way the universe tried to make them reunited? If they can't find each other in life, then they can be together in death? That isn't right!

But it always hurts more when she wakes up and talks to him. Wondering if he was happy and in peace, in wherever place he ended up.

He was there but she didn't know.

He felt sick.

After being revived, Damian felt an immense sense of loss. Sure, he was kinda happy to reunite with his family and grateful for being alive again, but he missed her.

It was difficult to readjust to being alive again, it was crystal clear that Damian Wayne wasn't okay. What hurts him the most was how her name turned into a scar on his wrist.

During the day paranoia settled in making him always on high alert, lashing out when it got too much for him.

In the night, he couldn't sleep properly as a feeling of unease latched onto his every nerve and when he did sleep, nightmares plagued him.

Damian tried to calm down in various ways, but ultimately it was Marinette's voice that soothed him and lulled him to sleep.

It quickly became a habit to replay their one-sided conversations as he tries to fall asleep.

He went over what Marinette Dupain-Cheng spoke to him time and time again as to engrave her voice in his mind. Unfortunately, her voice was fading away, every time he recalled it, he hear his own voice.

At least some memories remained, which was relieving for Damian, even when important ones like what language she spoke or the name of her school were completely wiped out.

He never told his family his experience while he was dead, he guesses Jason was the most likely to know about it but he never brought it up to anyone, so Damian did the same.

Now he was lying in bed, remembering about the time Marinette tried embroidery for the first time.

She started by searching up what she wanted it to be and after much talking, she chose a Robin, Damian smile at the eagerness he felt for her to chose it. It was a fun day, with her making comments here and there about the work, he wishes he could see it.

A knock woke him up of his thoughts, Alfred emerging from the door.

"Master Damian, I'm here to inform you a guest will be joining us for tomorrow's dinner."

"Whose guest?" He didn't really feel like dealing with new people.

"It's Master Jason's guest."

Damian groans, perhaps he could go visit Kent.

"It would be in your best interest to participate, Master Damian." Alfred gave him a look.

He sighed, definitely can't miss tomorrow or he'll have to face Pennyworth.

So, I've written another chapter while listening to a sad song on repeat :') I know it doesn’t really connect to the last chapter but I wasn’t feeling okay and didn’t know how to continue from where I left off.

I hope y’all enjoyed this and have a nice day!

P.S.: The taglist is temporarily closed as some tags aren't working. Again, I'm very sorry if I missed anyone. If you no longer want to be tagged please hit me up.

Taglist:

@thestressmademedoit @moonlightstar64 @dast218 @moonystars14 @buticaaba @urbanpineapplefarmer @thedragonbug  @little-lady-bird @an-actual-changeling @ladybug-182 @ash-amg @g-arya @nnon-it-up @hateswifi @maribat-is-lifeblood @kikooaaaaaa @jessigurl-design @vixen-uchiha @acoursedprophetwithasmothie @snow-leopard-777 @theatreandcomicfreak @zalladane @fusser90 @finallyaniguana @danielslilangel @dreamykitty25 @corabeth11 @ellymae21 @books-and-left-behind-journals @hetalia-lover-is-here @dorkus-minimus @magic-miraculous @waywardpeachgardenshark @darkthunder1589 @jaggedheart11 @daminettes @todaylillypads @schrodingers25 @pheonixashtree @mikantsume @eliza-bich @miraculous-simmer7 @goblinwhoships @fidget-eep @rosalineandrosemary @lunarwolfspn @more-or-less-human-i-guess @aestheticnpoetic @amayakans @abrx2002 @karategirl119 @agentofscifi @flower-and-drawing @itsmeevie01 @suddenly-i-kin-oikawa @ii-fox-demon @thatonecroc @dawnwave16 @bigpicklebananatree @violentbisexualprophecywriter @scribblinggraveyard @heaven428 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ravennightingaleandavatempus @chylou34 @silvergold-swirl @magictragic-world @snowstar1016 @heldtogetherbysafetypins @awkwardoneout @novicevoice @thenillabean @bookishdork13 @laurcad123 @thezestywalru @k-poplunardreams @coloursforyourportrait @fandomsaremylifeline @goddessofthewestwind @captainmac6 @chocolatecatstheron @princessanimeangel11 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @ur-beautiful-when-u-smile @batlover1303 @softlysobbingpostendgame @justconfusedperiod @clumsy-owl-4178 @bluesimani @iwritelikeimrunningoutoftime @kokotaru @totalyasexual @professionalfangirl1738 @nitholites @zestyzealot @pawsitivelymiraculous @autiegirlshit @raz-b-rose @thanks-captain-obvious @emilytopaz @nightstarblue @2confused-2doanything @niknak-3 @blackroserelina @fortunatelyoptimisticdeer @ira-sairain @pepelachanel @naimena @iloveitwhen @disneyfoxuniverse @ur-average-reader @lylshyt @jerusalemandolives @anonymously-odd @southamericanghotamite @a-star-with-a-human-name @we-want-mini-mini @literallytryingmybestbutok @alenee13 @animegirlweeb @our-preciousss @prudencerika @byronsacademics @ivymala07 @shamefullove @susiej1118 @technicallyburninggarden @sentimentalcrap @ertyzeta @tomanyfandomsonmymind @starmist19 @synnesstra @nokia75 @swiftie-miraculer13 @solideogloria172 @a-door-into-my-mind @road-work-ahead123 @madking-warqueen @caseoftheblues @buginetye @ihavehomeworkbutistillhere @i-wanna-go-to-outerspace @insane-fangirl-of-everything @ultimatetornshipper @chaoticstarworld @adrestar @wolf-for-life @blacktea-ba @pinkk-sheep @autiegirlshit @chocolateherringtacofan @blackroserelina @samopotahto @blur-of-colours @stainedglassm @redbullgivescaswings @khneltea @amigotasbien @sdg-demachera @alyssadeliv @greatcatblaze @raesofmoonlight @galla02006 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @novaloptr @qualitypeacepainter @solangelo252 @unnamed2357 @thespianlesb @mildlydeadly @yuriyuhitsu @hewantedbeefintheparkinglot @literaryhiraeth @luna025 @henie04 @trashesa @castle-bookworms-world

[beewithknee]

weight does not equal beauty

asher hurt/comfort

You sat on the edge of your couch, frowning as your thighs splayed out underneath you. Today people have been especially rude, offering you diet tips and an assortment of other things. You didn’t think you looked too bad but you had gained a little weight. Sure, bringing chubby wasn't a bad thing but… if random strangers had noticed then surely Asher had too.

Was he just staying silent so he didn’t hurt your feelings? What if he hated the way you looked?

Self deprecating thoughts crashed over each other, blending into a toxic mess of self doubt and insecurity. Standing up, you sighed at the way your thighs touched.

Fuck.

Walking into the bedroom, you stood in front of your full length mirror, scanning your body for imperfections. Too many, was what you decided. As you stood there, heart twisting painfully and eyes glistening, you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

‘You’d look so much better if you lost some weight’

‘Surely your partner can’t be happy with all this chub’

‘Don’t you wanna please your man?’

Chuckled sentences like that broke your heart, they pierced the ironclad walls you’d built up and completely shattered your self esteem. “Babe! I’m home, where are you?” Asher’s cheerful voice called out through the apartment. You desperately wished you could’ve put on a pair of his sweatpants, but life hated you so that was a no-go. “Hey Ash, how was work?” You smiled, hiding your watery eyes. Laughing he ran full speed and wrapped you up in the tightest hug known to man. “Eh, but my day is better now that i’ve got the most beautiful thing in this world in my arms” He smirked, he’d never get sick of complimenting you and watching the way your cheeks would light up. “I am not the most beautiful thing but I missed you too.” You denied, trying to hide the insecurity in a laugh. After knowing you for 3 years, Asher could instantly see through your bullshit. Concern flooded his face and he scanned you up and down, making sure you weren’t hurt physically. “What happened, babe?” Asher sighed, leading you over to the couch. You hesitated to sit down, but did it anyway knowing it’d be more suspicious if you didn’t. “Nothing, I'm just tired.” You lied through your teeth. Granted, you hated lying to your lover but if it saved him having to deal with your bullshit, you’d do it. “Mhm right. I thought we agreed we wouldn’t lie to each other, even if it didn’t seem like a big deal.” He backed you into a metaphorical corner, his words trapped you and you knew he was right but you couldn’t let me see the plague that rested just behind your eyes, he couldn’t see the ache that kept a grasp on your entire body. “Babe, please talk to me. Y’know I’ll never judge you.” He admitted honestly, crouching in front of you. Averting your eyes, you caught a glimpse of your thighs and the way they bulged out beside you. Catching a pathetic sob in your throat, you breathed in deeply. “You don’t have to pretend you don’t see it y’know. It’s fucking obvious” You barked out, voice rough and words venomous. you weren’t angry at Asher, no, he hadn’t done anything wrong. You were mad at yourself for letting it get this far. Furrowing his eyebrows, he replied “See what? What are you talking about?“ The beta was genuinely confused. You looked fine, the house was fine. Nothing had changed, or so he thought. “ME! The weight I’ve gained, the way my stomach sticks out and… and how my thighs are fucking huge.” You choked out, tears getting caught in your throat as you slightly yelled. Asher’s entire body went slightly slack, thank god it wasn’t anything serious. “Baby. Hey, look at me.” He requested, voice soft and tone gentle, he just wanted to see those beautiful eyes he fell for. Complying reluctantly, you met his brown ones, his face was a simple smile but his eyes showed as though he’d just seen his favourite statue at a museum. “Your weight will fluctuate, it’s not a constant thing. It’s okay if you don’t like what weight you’re at right now, but please don’t ever think that I will ever think you’re ugly. Weight is a tricky thing. We can see if we can lose weight in a healthy way. But if you like how you are, don’t change it. I adore how you look, you are so fucking hot, you make me wanna ravish you 24/7” He stated blankly before bursting out with laughed at your flushed face. “But if others can see then surely you’ve noticed too. I mean… it’s kinda obvious” You sighed, slapping your skin. Asher caught your hands, bringing them into his own. He leaned down and kissed each of your thighs, letting his eyes meet as he did. Breath hitching in your throat you smiled slightly. “I adore you. How you look does not matter as much as you think it does. I am so hopelessly in love with you that you have no idea. I’m going to marry you. I promise, not today but someday. And other people's opinions on their own, it is not fact, it's their conceited, sad little way of making them feel better, okay?” Nodding, you leaned down and kissed his forehead. He did always know how to make you feel better. “Good, now… let me lay between those thighs?” He asked shyly. Laughing, you

spread your legs and let him climb between them. Asher let out a content hum, turning his head and kissing one of your thighs. He passed you the remote and smiled as you kissed him softly.

“I love you babe. All of you.” He smiled.

“I love you too.”

[yayeetsonny]

Always Tell The Truth Part 2 ~ USWNT x Reader

Okay so if you haven’t read the first part of this, which I will put here. Always tell the truth part 1 I suggest you do that, otherwise this one will make no sense. Also sorry... again for being gone so long. I hope you guys didn’t miss me too much. :)

-N

Previously...

“Those bruises, Y/N, where’d you get them?” 

“I. Don’t. Know.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fine then, don’t believe me. First Alex, then Christen and now you. This is just great, my teammates think I’m a liar. Well I’m not and I’m telling you the truth.”

I brushed by her and stormed out of the room, now determined to avoid my teammates so they’d stop asking questions and questioning my honesty.

“I’m not a liar. I don’t know where I got the bruises, I don’t know why they won’t believe me.”

Present

After I stormed out of the room I share with Ali I ran... yes literally ran out of the hotel and out into the street. Well okay it was more like the sidewalk but whatever, I’m going for dramatic story telling here. I was angry, hurt and confused as to why my teammates couldn’t just believe me. I’ve never lied to them before, not ever. If something was going on I would have told them. And I genuinely have no clue where these bruises came from, I don’t remember hurting myself badly in practices or games and I don’t do any other crazy activities that would warrant the sudden appearance of severe looking injuries. I knew I just needed to clear my head so I started walking in a random direction hoping to get my thoughts together.

After a while I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and knew it was probably one of my teammates looking for me so I ignored it. My phone stopped ringing only for a short time before it stared up again. This went on for several long minutes before it finally stopped. After each attempt from whoever was trying reach me there was a separate single vibrate indicating they left a message. I felt a little guilty for disappearing and probably worrying everyone but they shouldn’t have assumed or accused me of lying. Thinking they finally got the message that I didn’t want to speak to them I continued walking god knows where trying to think of what to say when I finally decided to go back. I was really deep in thought, trying to remember if and when I got the bruises. Obviously they don’t just appear like magic. They have to be caused by something, but... what? All the sudden I was hit with a vague memory

“Huh?... Wha- where am I?”

“You fell asleep on the couch dear. Don’t you remember? It was really adorable actually. My mom said super sweetly.

That’s weird, she’s never overly sweet with me, like ever.

“No, I don’t remember doing that.”

I looked around and the tv was on, which is also rare. It was playing a random comedy movie. Comedy? My parents don’t even like comedy movies.

“Oh well you did. Right after dinner, you dragged your feet over to the couch and was out like a light before we knew it.” She said casually.

My dad waltzed in like everything was totally normal. What the fuck is going on. Why don’t I even remember eating dinner? How long have I been here? Why does my body hurt so much?

I came back to the present feeling slightly uneasy. I remembered now a little bit of what happened when I got to my parents house and a little bit of what happened after I woke up from my nap. They managed to convince me everything was fine after that and I left assuming they were telling me the truth because I was too tired and too annoyed to argue. But the more I thought about it the more I wondered just how much of what they said is true. Why were there huge gaps in my time with them? And why do I get the feeling that the weird gut feeling I have isn’t a coincidence? I got lost in thought again but it was peaceful this time and quiet which I was relishing in.

Unfortunately the peace and quiet only lasted for a few minutes when I started to get what I assumed were dozens of texts. I finally got fed up and decided to silence my phone completely. When I unlocked it I saw a glimpse of some of the worried texts from the team. They all pretty much said the same thing;

“Y/N please come back. I’m sorry for saying I didn’t believe you. I’m just concerned about you. I want to talk and I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. Just please come back.”- Ali

“Hey kid, heard what happened. Wanna talk?”- T

“Y/n where are you? I heard what happened and that you left?? please come back, we’re worried.”- Christen

“Bruh what the hell? let’s talk?”- Ash

“where r u?”- Mal

“It’s not safe for you to be out by yourself. Ali told us about the other bruises. Whatever this is we’ll help you. We’re gonna start searching for you if you don’t get your ass back here soon. We love you.”- Alex

And it went on like that as every single member of the team texted me some variation of that and the voicemails they all left were much the same. I started to feel more guilty but let my anger keep me from replying to them. They can stew a little longer.

Meanwhile back at the Hotel...

CHRISTEN PRO//

“Okay, so tell us exactly what happened.”

“I saw the bruises when she was changing, which I happened to walk in on. I don’t think she was expecting me. I asked her what happened and she said that nothing had happened and I asked her about the bruises I saw on her arm, shoulder and spine and she continued to tell me she has no idea where they came from. I told her I didn’t believe her and then she got upset and she just... left.”

“Just like that? She didn’t say where she was going?”

“No, she was so angry she just stormed out and when I tried to follow after her she was already gone.”

“And she’s still not answering her phone. Damnit kid come on, where are you?”

“She’s not safe out there on her own, we have to go look for her.”

“And how are we supposed to find her when she doesn’t have her location on and is doing everything she can’t to ignore us?”

“I have no idea but we have to try.”

“We will, but we should give her a little more time. It’s possible she’s just around the corner cooling off. She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

“You’re right.”

“Guys I hate to steer us back into more serious topics but shouldn’t we be talking about the bruises she has that started all of this?”

“What do you guys think they’re from?” Megan asked.

“I want to believe her when she says she doesn’t know but I mean how can you just not know about bruises as severe as those?” Ash said.

“I mean... I’ve had some pretty bad ones I don’t remember getting from anywhere.” Mal said off-handily.

I saw some of the rest of the team nod silently, indicating that they too had, had the same thing happen to them. And I had to admit that I had my fair share of bumps and bruises that I couldn’t explain because they just seemed to appear but I was still concerned for our youngest teammate as it was getting pretty late and it was already dark outside.

“Oh god, you don’t think it’s her parents do you?” Tobin asked no one in particular.

We all paused for a moment to process what she was implying and I know we were silently hoping, praying that they wouldn’t do that to her. That they wouldn’t beat their own child.

“No, there’s no way. She’s told us that they love and support her and that even though they aren’t around much they still care about her.”

“Right, you’re right.”

“It has to be them though, I mean there’s no other explanation. She didn’t have them before or after practice right?” Alex asked.

“No, she didn’t.” Lindsey said solemnly.

“Do you really think parents can just flip a switch? Just like that? Be caring and supportive one minute and violent then next?”

“It’s possible.”

“No, just don’t even go there. I refuse to believe they would do that.”

“We would have seen the bruises if she had them before, since we all change in the same locker room together for practices and games remember?” I said

“Fuck. When I get my hands on them I swear to god...”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence because Y/n walked into the dining hall where we were all gathered.

“Get your hands on who?” She asked quietly

“Kid...”

“Y/n holy shit, thank god.”

“And she lives!... not the time? Got it.”

“Y/N... we need to talk.”

“Why? There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t know what Ali told you, but I don’t know where these fucking bruises came from okay? I don’t know. I’m sorry, I know that probably isn’t what you wanted to hear but it’s the truth. If you don’t believe me that’s fine but i’m not talking about it anymore.”

“Sweetie please just hear us out okay? We’re worried about you and getting defensive about them isn’t helping your case.” I said, trying to reach out for her but she backed away from me.

“Defensive? I’m just upset because you all still don’t seem to get it.”

“We want to get it, please just talk to us.”

“No.”

“Y/N, please just...”

“No! Okay, just no. I said we weren’t talking about it again and that’s final. What happened to “I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.” Huh, Ali? Good to know that was complete bullshit.”

“I’m sorry baby, please believe me, we just...”

“Oh believe you? For what? You clearly still don’t believe me so why should I give you that courtesy? You know what, this is all just fucking stupid anyways. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

And with that she disappeared up to the room she’s sharing with Ali. Leaving us all more confused and concerned than ever.

“Well... that went well.”

“Shut up Emily, so not the time.”

//End

Okay so yes that is yet another cliffhanger of sorts, I’m sorry but I thought that was a good place to end it. Just know that Y/N genuinely doesn’t remember a lot of what’s going on, just like she says. Her parents are definitely sus asf.

I’m actually writing part 3 rn so that should be up within the next day or so. I know I keep disappearing but my life is totally a mess rn lol. I’m back now tho and am excited to finally get to all the requests I have. Im so sorry for those waiting I haven’t forgotten. Promise.

-N

//

Not edited.

[firebird-legacy]

You know I have to: Hunter

*steepling my fingers as i spin around in my chair like a cartoon villain* i’ve been expecting you. (hiiiiii <3)

Ask Game

Favorite thing about them:

Among the many, many things I find awesome about Hunter, one thing that’s always stuck out to me is the passionate streak constantly present in his character. Ironically, I’d argue he’s one of the most human-like characters in the agent story—unlike your colleagues in Intelligence, who hold emotion at arms length and behave as machines, or even some of your companions, a few of which choose to live life without a care or concern for others (stares at Kaliyo), Hunter is extremely invested in his cause, the state of the galaxy, and in the agent. And in the end, his genuine interest in the agent (regardless of nature) is the catalyst for the downfall of the Cabal.

Least favorite thing about them:

As for a least favorite… tbh there’s no singular thing I could think of. Even his reprehensible actions and (at times) downright cruelty play very important parts in developing his character. I suppose I very much dislike some of the interpretations of him I’ve seen, though this just boils down to differing opinions. OH—the stupid “identity reveal” at the end of the story. It sucks. It was done so badly. (He’s… he’s trans, guys. That’s all there is to it.)

Favorite line: (I have several. I am indecisive)

“I tried to behave for the SIS—but for you and me? Let’s be bad.”

(Agent: “You’re not just playing. You’re really worried about me.”) “Who else can I whisper sweet things to? Do you know what it’s like to have no identity? No one in the galaxy who can control you? It’s terrifying and wonderful. If you live to see Imperial Intelligence die… that’s me giving you a taste of freedom.”

“No way out anymore. I dreamed about this. You and me—tearing each other apart!”

“Goodbye, love. Don’t ever let them stop you.”

BrOTP:

Not exactly a brOTP, but I did find his interactions with the SIS team to be interesting, particularly with Ardun Kothe. Kothe said he thought Hunter was a good man. I wonder if Hunter thought well of him.

OTP:

Merrow. Or Merrow and Theron. I will not explain myself (actually if given the slightest reason I WILL because I never shut up).

NOTP:

… Women. Your honor that is a gay man

Random headcanon:

I’ve always had this headcanon that he’s good at cooking.

Unpopular opinion:

Strictly speaking, he’s not exactly a terrible person, or at least might not have been on his own. The Star Cabal made him what he is. Where does more blame lie—the morally corrupt cult, or the child who was raised to know nothing else?

Song I associate with them:

I was able to narrow down a much larger playlist to… still a whole five songs. HELP

Curses - The Crane Wives

Ashes, ashes, dust to dust | The devil's after both of us | Lay my curses out to rest | Make a mercy out of me

Danger To Myself - The Unlikely Candidates

'Cause I was founded | In a bed of liars | Walking the streets someone before me set on fire | And after all this | This love I borrowed | I'm waiting on the day you don't want me tomorrow

Feed The Machine - Poor Man’s Poison

I said, "Hey (hey), you (you), feed the machine | Bring them all back down to their knees | There's no time to waste | Remind the slaves | They ain't gonna make it out alive today"

Liar - The Arcadian Wild

I am the host of this hostility | I’m the master magician that makes you believe | I’m real, I’m not fake, but in reality | I’m a lying man | My life’s become this grand game of deception | My mind’s ignored all my heart’s good intentions | We all feel this tension | We all have our own illusions

This Is Love - Air Traffic Controller

You're no good, you're no good | You could kill me and you should | I'm an idiot for thinking | This was anything but blood | On the wall, on the couch | On the corner of my mouth | You must like being the victim | You've done nothing to get out

Favorite picture of them:

I… have a love hate relationship with swtor models. I actually don’t love how Hunter looks in game. I like how he looks in my brain. HOWEVER this here is one of my FAVORITE pieces of fanart, the colors and lighting and shapes are soo so fun and I am obsessed with the dynamic posing of the third photo!!

[doveypink]

the one i left behind [technoblade imagine]

summary: you recount the moments leading up to your death. genre: angst words: 5.3k warnings: death, (past) abusive relationships, swearing, general violence a/n: i've been working on this one for a long time. i hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i did writing it!!

[ part two: come and find me ]

Freezing. I was absolutely freezing.

The brisk wind was sharp, leaving pinpricks of its icy touch upon my skin. I could have sworn there was snow, but when my eyes finally cracked open to peer around me, there was only the burning blaze of the sun and lush fields surrounding me. I turned my head to the side lazily, feeling the grass tickle my cheek. My body felt stiff and I stretched my arms out as though clasping the sky between my fingers, and my muscles loosened as I lifted myself from the ground. How long had I been laying there? Time seemed to escape me as I tried to recollect myself. I was just tired, that was all; if I went home now, I’m sure I would remember again. I would make myself a big meal, as well, something hot to melt away my chill, even though I didn’t seem to feel any ounce of hunger within me.

I walked in the direction of a place I couldn’t quite remember, attempting to turn the preceding events over in my mind. The only thing I could seem to recall was the smell of something burning, a bright flash of light, a big bang — fireworks, an image of creation and destruction all at once. It was almost as though I had never existed before this moment, lying in a bed of flowers, untouched by the calloused hands of the living.

I walked through the field, reaching out to pick a single flower from the blades of grass—a blood-red carnation—when I noticed that the shade of my skin had lost its warmth. Where it once had the flushed undertone of my blood, it was now ashen with the impression of death. I flinched, suddenly shivering as my cold bones once again made themselves known. A thought occurred to me, a memory that had slipped my mind in my haze: I only had one life left. 

And I lost it.

Without thinking, my feet began to glide over the earth, kicking up dirt and pebbles as I ran. If I had lost my last life, something awful must have happened. What was it? I tried to pull the memories from the vault in my mind, but it seemed to be locked. All that was left were the shadows under the door, the footsteps in the distance, the keyhole that could only provide a glimpse into a scene.

I smelled it, then, the same scent that I recalled upon waking up, though fainter: something hot and burnt. Up ahead, there was a wisp of smoke floating above the trees, and I hurried towards them. The ground became blackened with scorch marks and, among the ruins of a building I could no longer recognize, I caught sight of blood. My heart sank, and with a start, I realized that there was a crater full of rubble and fires that had long been burning. I stepped through the debris, stumbling over broken doors, shards of glass, golden goblets and picture frames; dozens of signs of life all buried in ash and smoke, melted into a haunting image of destruction. Nothing was recognizable, but I knew what this place was: L’Manburg. Or, more accurately, what was left of it.

I searched the ruins of the country, cringing at the blood streaked debris and discarded weapons and armor that lay haphazardly among the wreckage. I circled the edge of the massive crater, unable to step much further into the space due to its depth. I looked down at the scorched land and moved out, surveying the surrounding area. 

Upon noticing the remnants of a building—someone’s house, maybe? It was too far gone to make out—I felt compelled to search what was left of the structure. I wasn’t sure what drew me to suddenly climb through burnt wood and broken cobblestone; some part of me felt as though I would find an answer to all my questions, a sign, anything to point me in the right direction. I felt desperate to find something to satisfy the tug in my cold heart. My freezing hands sifted through the mess, shoving away rubble and pushing through the debris until my hands were covered in dirt and bruised from the digging. My hands suddenly found something smooth and dense, and my searching became frantic as I pushed through the ruins to find what I had been unknowingly searching for: my bow. I tugged it out from under stone and dirt, running my fingers down the edge of the smooth silver. It remained unmarked despite the destruction surrounding it, the curve of its limbs untarnished and shining brilliantly in the evening light. I searched some more and discovered the hard shell of my arrow quiver and a number of silver-tipped arrows still inside. I stood and slung the quiver over my shoulder with my bow in hand, feeling almost complete with the items on my person. 

The wind picked up and blew through my hair, insisting that I look further. I stepped into the wreckage of the building, an unsettled feeling rising in the pit of my stomach. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of red against pale grey stone; I turned, staring at the scene before me with wide, horrified eyes.

A short distance from where my bow was found, there was a violent splatter of crimson against the rubble. It looked like a balloon full of paint had popped, streaking the cold stones with a sickeningly bright shade of red. Among the drying mess, there was a flurry of scorch marks strewn across the area, a minor crater digging into the earth where the scene lay. I realized what this all was, my hands trembling as I clutched my bow. 

I had died here.

I screwed my eyes shut, plagued with a sudden onslaught of memories that I no longer wished for. Falling to my knees, I held my head in my hands and shook violently, my head pounding with a torrential rain of scenes flashing in my mind. All I could do was be swept away in the flood.

* * * * *

“Are you still mad at me?”

I blinked at Techno with an arrow in hand, sharpening its tip and inspecting the edge. I was mad at him, but I didn’t feel like giving him an answer. If he had to ask, he already knew; we were both smart enough to understand each other like that. He sighed when I wordlessly turned my gaze back to my arrow, stepping towards me and plucking it from my grasp. I jumped up, prepared to steal it back. “Hey—!”

“You know why I had to do this. Don’t get mad at me,” Techno said, his voice low and serious. 

I crossed my arms and frowned. “Right. You have to team with Dream just to blow up a country. You definitely couldn’t have done it on your own or, I don’t know, with me to help, yeah? Because the great Technoblade is always right—”

“We have common interests—”

“And I hate being interrupted.”

Techno went silent after I snapped at him, adjusting his cape while I gritted my teeth. “I thought you hated him,” I said slowly, “and I hated him too. You know what he did, you know how it hurt me, and you still…” I trailed off, feeling suddenly exhausted—exhausted from fighting, exhausted from chasing a peace I could never have. 

Techno placed a gentle hand on my shoulder—a gesture he rarely used, and reserved for me—and met my eyes. “Just this once,” he said. “I still owe him a debt, but this will be the end. It’s within our reach.”

“I could die,” I said plainly. This made Techno pause, his entire body freezing over like a lake in winter, so I pushed further. “I could die. I could lose my last life, and I gladly will for what we’re doing, because I believe in this. I know we haven’t always been right, but I know that this is. I hate that you let Dream in, and I’m going to be angry. I deserve to be angry.”

“You’re not going to die,” he said with certainty. “Not when I’m there.” 

I couldn’t tell if Techno was trying to reassure me or himself with his words, but either way, the weight of the possibilities made my stomach turn with anxiety. “You can’t be so sure. I’m not exactly as talented as you are at everything,” I countered.

“Don’t say that,” Techno insisted, his tone full of frustrated reassurement. “I won’t ever let anything bad happen to you. Never again. And hey,” he started, poking my cheek, “you’re more than capable of handling yourself, anyway. You couldn’t die even if you wanted to.”

“I think you have too much confidence in me, Techno.”

“Cut that sentence 3 words short and I’ll consider agreeing with you.”

I sighed, finally letting myself crack a small smile. “I’m still mad at you, but I trust you. Only out of pity though—I know you couldn’t last a day without me around.”

Techno grinned, his sharp-toothed grin melting the ice as he returned my arrow. “Good thing it’ll never come to that.”

I shook my head, twirling the arrow in my hand while I inspected it silently. Techno turned away to prepare his own weapons, leaving me alone with the aftermath of our conversation. 

My anger had been redirected with my friend’s words of reassurance, now colliding with my resentment for Dream. Even though I did have faith in Techno, I still feared the possibility of Dream playing a trick on us. I sharpened my arrow and considered my choices: I follow Techno’s lead and go along with Dream’s help, or I take matters into my own hands. I finished up with my arrows, placing them neatly into my quiver as I prayed that the latter wouldn’t have to occur.

I already knew well enough that war was brutal.

With a deep, tired sigh, I leaned back and recalled a time not so long ago—just a few years at most—when I wasn’t resentful of Dream. We were friends, once, and I’ll admit that I admired him; I bitterly wondered what would have happened if I had ever found the courage to tell him just how much I adored him, but the thought made some long forgotten part of me ache, prickling my heart with thorns. It was shameful of me to wonder what could have been, even more so to speak it; there was a reason why only Techno knew, and there was a reason why his decision made my blood bubble over in frustration and betrayal. 

I considered the moment I caught Dream shifting, edging away from his former self as his own hubris overtook him, rotting his soul as something else took form. He had always treated me as an equal, and he charmed me with his kind words and gentle gaze. I couldn’t begin to understand how suddenly he was so cruel to me, taking me by surprise when his usual soft tone became sharp and grating, tearing me apart from the inside out. I had only ever been supportive of him, even when he did things I couldn’t agree with; even when his friends turned their backs on him; even when I found myself seeking his approval at every turn despite his cruelty. Nothing I did could ever seem to be enough.

The first time I was separated from Dream was after Techno captured me, initially planning to use me as leverage against his rival to put an end to the government. After finding me, though, he must have seen what I couldn’t: the hollowness that Dream had left behind. The anarchist took pity on me, if you could even call it that; mostly, Techno shook me awake from the nightmare I had been living and made me realize the extent of Dream’s manipulation. I felt dirty for a long while after my realization, plagued with the sense that I would never feel safe or whole again. A part of me still felt that way, even, but at least I had the sense now to not seek out the shadows when they beckoned me over.

Technoblade was a surprisingly good friend through it all. It was him who helped me become myself again, but he would always argue that it was my own doing. He frustrated me sometimes with his monotonous tone and his thirst for anarchy, but at the end of the day, I could never stay mad at him; Techno had a good heart, and his honesty and dedication to his morals was enough to convince me. Even through my fog of anger at his teaming with Dream, even when I questioned whether this was a good idea, a sensible part of me knew that this was nothing like what Dream had done to me. Techno didn’t hide his nature as Dream did, and I could trust him in that.

A knock on the cabin door brought me out of my thoughts. I heard Techno’s footsteps as he stepped back into the room, a knife in hand. “Do you know who it is?” he questioned, scrutinizing the door when I shook my head in response. I stood from my chair and followed behind Techno, who peeked out the window and let out a tired sigh before swinging the door open.

“Hello, Dream. What are you doing at my house?” my friend deadpanned.

Dream lowered his grinning mask, his own lips drawn back into a polite smile. “Oh, just checking in before tomorrow. I wanted to see if you needed anything.”

“You could have sent a message first,” Techno replied, tapping the messenger device on his wrist. “I don’t really appreciate unwanted guests.”

“I figured it wouldn’t be much of a problem since we’re on the same side now. And I tend to find surprise visits are a lot more… Insightful,” Dream mused. His eyes peeked over Techno’s shoulder to meet mine and I stiffened, standing straighter. Dream, perceptive as usual, smiled wider, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners before he spoke to me in a soft voice. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

A cold hand gripped my heart, the blood pulsing in my ear drums. I hated him; I hated that he hardly had to speak for me to begin to crumble. I attempted to reply in a steady voice despite the slight tremor that shook me. “Yeah, it has.”

Before Dream could say anything else, Techno stepped up as though to shield me. “You know, we have everything we need here. You should probably make sure your things are sorted, though,” he announced. 

Dream’s smile faltered for half a second before returning. “Hm, I think you’re right. Just remember to give me the signal,” he said, beginning to turn away from the door. Dream hesitated, giving me one last look before he addressed me, his words kind, though laced with a cold, haunting tone. “I’ve missed you. Good luck tomorrow.”

It wasn’t until Techno had shut the door and confirmed that Dream had left that I allowed myself to breathe. I hadn’t even realized that I was holding my breath in the first place; I felt lightheaded and weary as Techno sat me down and asked if I was alright. I nodded, watching the worried man cross the room to fetch me a glass of water. With a shudder, I took in the sight of the floorboards and listened to my friend rummaging around the kitchen. My stomach churned and my mind flashed with sudden clarity about what I would have to do.

I was going to kill Dream.

The following day felt like a blur. Every motion leading up to the total destruction of L’Manburg was like a sharp jab of a paintbrush, a swipe across a canvas already drenched in paint. There was a picture here, some greater meaning when you stepped away from it all, but in the midst of things, it didn’t quite matter. All Techno cared about was erasing the country for good and keeping us alive; all I wanted was to get the day over with.

I had spent the entire night trying to decide whether it was truly a good idea for me to go after Dream or leave him be. A part of me felt that it was a terrible idea, a decision that would only serve to lead me to certain death; still, another part of me wanted closure. I didn’t think of myself as anything special compared to Techno, Phil, or even Dream himself when it came to combat skills, but the truth was that I was more than capable of holding my own in battle. I had been through my fair share of wars, and the experience in addition to training with Techno led me to become a skilled warrior of my own. As I considered it, I found myself realizing with a newfound confidence that I had the strength to take down Dream all on my own if I wanted to. My only question was how I would go about this.

The answer came surprisingly soon.

Techno and I had been doing well against L’Manburg’s defense—there was only a scare when Sapnap came close to taking one of Techno’s lives during a fight, but I had stepped in with a nicely timed arrow to his head, which made our enemy disappear into a cloud of smoke as his life was lost. Techno and I chugged some invisibility potion, courtesy of Phil, and hid around a building to watch everyone fight off the withers while we healed ourselves.

“What’s taking him so long? We’ve been at it for—” Techno glanced at his watch, “—thirty minutes! And here I thought Dream was all about punctuality,” my friend griped, taking a bite out of an apple.

“I’m not surprised. Of course he would choose today to take his sweet time,” I assessed, thumping my head against the brick building. “He’s probably going over his plans to sacrifice us next as we speak.”

“We are not getting sacrificed.”

“You never know,” I hummed. “It’s not a bad thing to be cautious, is it?”

Techno snorted. “Well, I suppose not. We’ve survived this long, though, so I have a good feeling about this.”

I nodded, peering in the direction of my friend. We couldn’t see each other due to the potion, but if I focused hard enough, I could catch a shift in the light that alerted me of his position. I felt a sudden urgency within me—some calling to spill my fears, inky and black, before I choked. “I need you to do me a favor,” I blurted.

I watched the light shift and turn. “What? What’s going on?” Techno wondered.

“If something happens to me, if I lose my last life,” I began in a serious tone, “don’t look back.”

“I… don’t understand. What are you saying? You won’t—”

“Techno, if I die, you carry straight through with the plan. Don’t come for my things, don’t try to help me, just go. Please. Can you promise me that?”

The light shimmered slowly, hesitantly. “Of course you choose now to drop that on me,” Techno muttered bitterly, but I could hear the underlying hurt. “I can never say no to you, though, can I?”

“It is your best trait,” I joked, though there was a heaviness in my voice.

The shift in the light leaned back as Techno sighed. “Alright, fine. It won’t come to that, but I’ll do it. I promise.”

“Thank you. For everything,” I confessed, stressing the importance of all that he’s done for me in my reply. 

Before Techno could reply, a resounding boom went off nearby. Dirt and debris flew past us as plumes of gray smoke shrouded our sight. Between the clouds of smoke, I could see a flash of bright green and a bone-white mask.

“He’s here,” Techno mumbled next to me. “Let’s get moving.”

The pair of us sprinted across the land, dodging at the sight of explosives and attacking enemies under the guise of our invisibility. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Dream dropping TNT from the tops of buildings and hurling them at every patch of land in his vicinity. By the time he was finished, I knew there would be nothing left.

The invisibility began to wear off shortly after that, and I watched as Techno’s vibrant red cape began to fade back into view. I followed my friend from a short distance until I realized that Dream was completely distracted in his efforts to destroy the nation. As Techno veered down one path, I caught him by the arm. “I’m heading the other way,” I said.

Techno immediately began to protest. “No, you’re not. Don’t be stupid.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You were the one worried about losing your last life, and now you’re trying to split? We have to stick together.”

“I’ll be quick. You won’t even know I’m gone,” I reasoned, already turning to leave. “I promise I’ll be back.”

Techno frowned, but eventually his shoulders became less tense as he reluctantly decided to let me go. I gave him a nod of thanks before hurrying off to a building that hadn’t yet been destroyed. Fortunately for me, the citizens seemed to have cleared out, so no one was there to intervene as I leapt over crumbling buildings and the charred remains of the nation. My heart raced in my chest and I clutched my bow tightly in my hand. It would all be over soon enough, I thought, and I would be the one to end it all. 

I reached a building that hadn’t been completely damaged from the TNT and scaled the wall. My fingers were wedged into the grooves of the brick until I reached the ledge at the very top, tugging myself up and throwing my legs over the side. I huffed and looked up to watch Dream, practically gliding on air as he hurled explosives at the ground without remorse. I squinted and realized through the haze of smoke and ash that he had nearly hit bedrock, yet he continued to demolish the same area of land. It was like he wanted to blow a hole straight through the ground, so deep that he’d be able to see the other side. 

I shook away the nervous shudder that ran down my spine and instead raised my bow to aim while Dream was distracted. I glared at the back of his head and lined my sight to him, the familiarity of the motion sending a sort of ease through my tense muscles.

It was an easy shot. I could do it.

I drew a deep breath and held it while I drew my arrow back, pulling the string taut. With a slow sigh, I released.

My arrow soared above the destruction, seeming to transcend the rules of time and space. The light made the metallic edge glimmer as though a star was shooting across the expanse of land, bright and beautiful and destructive all at once. 

Dream was still turned away as the arrow launched towards him, and for a moment I felt sure that I had succeeded in my efforts. Right before the arrow was able to lodge itself in his head, though, Dream ducked, and the arrow flew past his head. He rose again to stand straight and turned slowly to face me, the blank eyed smile on his mask mocking me. My blood turned to ice in my veins and I frantically drew another arrow to fire, this time pointed at his heart. 

Before I could release the arrow, Dream held up a stick of dynamite and pelted it right next to the building I stood on. It was close enough that I took damage and fell back as the earth shook around me. My head smacked against the roof and I groaned at the dizzy shock that sparked against my skull. I lay there, my head pounding, focused on the rumble that rattled my bones as I tried to regain my bearings. 

By the time I had struggled onto my knees, Dream was hovering over me. I glared up at him for one silent moment before snatching my bow and striking his mask, which cracked and shattered to the ground. He stumbled back and I took my chance to load an arrow, but my head was still pounding, my coordination thrown off by the blow I had taken. Dream took advantage of my weakness and kicked the bow out of my hands, where it skidded across the roof and over the edge. I had made a feeble attempt to catch it before it tipped over, but I was too late.

Dream caught a fistful of my hair, yanking me backwards, and I growled, an animalistic sound that scratched my throat as I dragged my feet and struggled in his grasp. I kicked up dirt and clawed at the pale hands that trapped me, yelping when my captor shoved me to my knees. I must have looked ridiculous, like a child throwing a tantrum, as I thrashed and screamed to try and get away. “This is what happens to anyone who doesn’t follow my orders. You really thought you were smart enough to turn on me?” Dream laughed darkly, tightening his grip even as I scratched streaks of red into his skin. “You’re pathetic. I almost feel bad for you.”

“Fuck you,” I spat, attempting to jerk away, but Dream’s grip was unbreakable.

“I hope you’re not this rude to Technoblade. Where is he, by the way?” I struggled while Dream called out for my friend, who I watched sprint towards us between exploding buildings and smoke.

“Dream, what is this?” Techno heaved, meeting us on the building. 

The man in question nodded his head towards me, a warrior bloodied and brought to my knees. “I think it’s about time I used that favor,” he said coldly.

My heart sank to the pit of my stomach, and I felt my body begin to numb with fear. If I wasn’t sure of it before, I was now; this was the end for me. 

It was almost laughable, the irony of this situation; the promises to keep each other safe that I had made with my best friend—the only friend I had left—were tearing apart at the seams. 

“Maybe you should rethink this before you do something you’ll regret, Dream,” Techno threatened.

“Oh, I won’t be regretting anything. But you might.” Dream gestured with his free hand towards the bundle of fireworks in Techno’s hand. “Kill them.”

The situation was eerily similar to another from so long ago in this very nation—when Techno was ordered by Schlatt to kill Tubbo. I could see the realization in his eyes, the acknowledgment of the parallels, the regret and anger and so much fear. I had never seen him so scared, but he remained stubborn. “I won’t do that,” he replied.

Dream’s grip tightened as he jerked my head forward for emphasis. “Listen, Technoblade, you’re going to kill your little friend here because you owe it to me. If you choose not to, I’ll just take them for myself so I can do it instead. You probably wouldn’t want that, though—I won’t be so kind. Oh, and don’t even think about trying to kill me instead. One of you was already stupid enough to try.”

“This isn’t what I meant when I said I’d do you a favor.”

“Isn’t it, though? Look around, Techno. The only reason this is happening right now is because Tommy betrayed you. He could have chosen you, he could have stayed on your side, but he didn’t. This is the consequence, right? And this—,” I yelped as Dream snatched me and held me up as evidence, “—is what happens when I’m betrayed. You all agreed to help me, and now my trust is broken. So pick up a fucking weapon and do me a favor.”

My friend stood frozen as he tried to calculate some way out of this, but I knew I had ruined any chances of a better life for us. It was my actions that were about to get me killed, by the only person who ever truly loved me, nonetheless.

“Do it,” I told Techno. “Please, just get it over with.”

Technoblade looked down at me, his eyes full of hurt as his brows furrowed. “No. You’re crazy, why would I do that? I made you a promise—”

“So did I. But there’s nothing else to do. I fucked it up, so I’m asking you to do this. Not for him, for me,” I pleaded, painfully aware of the grip Dream had on my hair. “I’d rather it be you. No one but you.”

I watched as Techno’s face contorted into a woeful expression. The guilt was bubbling over in the pit of my stomach, an all-consuming feeling that made me sick with sorrow for what I was asking him to do. We were one and the same, him and I, a pair of lonely people made better with the other around. I would miss him and, even if he never chose to admit it, I knew he would miss me too. I could only hope that my absence wouldn’t destroy him. 

Slowly, Techno raised the firework launcher as he pointed it at my head. “You know, I always had a soft spot for you.”

My smile was regretful and watery; I prayed that he could hear my apologies without having to speak them out loud. I prayed even more that he could hear my unspoken words of gratitude, the unfinished symphony that was our friendship. “You’re the only person who ever knew me.”

Behind me, Dream groaned in annoyance. “Shut up with the monologues and get it over with,” he griped. With a harsh shove, the tip of the fireworks were pressed against my forehead. I bit my tongue, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth as I tried not to seem too meager in my final moments. Dream dropped me to my knees as he escaped the line of fire, now peering over Techno’s shoulder in waiting. I watched my friend’s hands shake, the light tremble of his finger as it hovered over the trigger. I wanted to give him some sort of reassurance, but how could I? How do you ease the heart of someone forced to kill their friend?

With a shaky, mournful sigh, Techno looked down on me, his knuckles white as he gripped the weapon. “I’m sorry,” he said. 

I squeezed my eyes shut with tears running hot over my cheeks, trying to recall a better picture in my mind. I thought of when I first met Techno, brainwashed and broken, a person slowly made whole again. I thought of the softness in his eyes even as he yelled at me over some mistake I had made. I thought of the nights he spent hunched over his desk writing about anything until I threw a blanket at him and dragged him into his bed. I thought of the mornings we would wake up early on a day of traveling just to catch the sunrise. I could have seen it a thousand times, and still, nothing would have ever compared to him; no amount of wealth or glory could even come close to making me feel as elated as he did. Techno was, without a doubt in my mind, my soulmate. The universe decided that for us; the sun and the moon and every star in the sky chose to bind us together, and what reason did I have to refuse it? 

My heart ached, jumping as the click of the trigger sounded. There was a bright flash, a pop, an explosion of color and sound—

Then nothing at all. 

[maddiwrites]

Secret Lives

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: You and JJ never got along so your friends trap the two of you on a boat in the middle of the marsh to work it out. Only it doesn’t go as planned.

Note: Hi guys! This is my first writing piece. I tried not to do a two parter for my first one but it ended up being so long. Sorry! I would love to hear your feedback so feel free to leave me a message! Part two will be posted soon. Also I have completed a rewrite of the show with a JJ x Routledge sister pairing so keep an eye out for that! Also wanna shout out @skiesofthesketchy​ @malfoyfarms​ @collecting-stories​ because they were some of the first masterlists I read and I loved them and it inspired me to write my own. So thank you!

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Language, angst, very slight mentions of abuse

Part 2

Y/N Y/L/N. That’s you. Or as some like to call you, Hannah Montana. You live the best of both worlds, living it up on Figure Eight and wearing hundred dollar dresses to fancy dinners and parties, sneaking expensive mimosas to brunches with your friends, and getting biweekly mani pedi’s with your sister. Meanwhile, when you’re not rolling around in the luxuries of Kook Life, you’re rolling around in the dirt with your Pogue friends, baking in the sun on a dirty small boat while drinking the cheapest beer one of the boys’ could get their hands on. Most Kooks hated you even when they wanted to be you. And most Pogues didn’t trust you even as they tried getting in your pants.

One of them being JJ Maybank.

Kiara introduced you to her group of friends right after freshman year. The two of you were the black sheep of Kook Academy. Both your families have money, sure. But you weren’t jerks about it. You enjoy a little pampering here and there, but you’re not tone deaf and superficial like the rest of your peers. You were so grateful that your science teacher paired you two together for that year’s science fair. You instantly clicked with the curly brunette and spent most of the class talking about whatever came to mind instead of actually brainstorming project ideas. After working together for months on a science fair project with a shared passion of wanting to help save the environment, Kie finally introduced you to her best friends.

John B and Pope immediately made you feel like one of the group. Sure, they were curious about your life but you never felt like you were being interrogated with questions. They included you on inside jokes and even gave you the nickname ‘Sassy’ after proving to them that you can hold your own in a verbal fight.

Thanks to JJ.

From the start he claimed to never like you. He hated where you were from, who your parents were, and that you never had a job. He hated that you didn’t even have to try to get people to like you. In his eyes, everything was handed to you on silver platter. You had a picture perfect life and all you had to do was bat your eyelashes and show off your pearly white teeth. He couldn’t stand you.

Yet, he was dangerously attracted to you.

He loved the way your hair shined against the setting sun, he loved that you didn’t wear makeup every single day like every other Kook on the island, he loved how your white jean shorts perfectly shaped your curves, and he loved how your temper was as equally as short as his because it made you fighting with him that much hotter.

Last night was no different than every other night with you and your friends. It was quiet, spent around a bonfire in John B’s back yard. You sipped on cheap beer from the can while the smell of JJ’s marijuana smoke wafted through the air. Kie lightly strummed the strings of her ukulele while Pope and JJ bickered about the pros and cons of smoking weed.

This was your family. You had friends on the other side of the island too but you weren’t as close as you were with the Pogues. You would do anything for the people surrounding you. Even JJ. You tried to tell yourself you hated him just as much as he hated you, but you couldn’t help but feel like every other girl on this island, falling for his ocean blue eyes and golden locks. His wit and his charm. His loyalty and protectiveness of his friends. How he looked with his shirt off. How he would wink at you when he caught you staring. You wished you didn’t, but you loved him.

“Hellooo, Y/N?” John B waved his hand in front of your face. You hadn’t even realized you’d been staring.

“I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

John B smirked but didn’t say what he was thinking. He always thought you and JJ were acting dumb when it was clear as day that the two of you were attracted to each other. He always caught you two staring at one another when the other wasn’t looking. You two would always ask about the other person when they weren’t there even if it was just to throw a sharp jab behind their back.

“I asked you what you were up to this weekend.”

“Oh,” You shrugged. “Probably run some errands, babysit my neighbor’s kids...”

Just like Hannah Montana, you also lived a secret life. Your life wasn’t as perfect as everyone thought it was, but you’d never admit to it. Your mother would be crushed, your friends would find you stupid and pathetic, and you would hate yourself even more than you already did.

“Good. Sunday we’re going to check out the surfing competition on Seasill Beach. JJ’s trying to qualify for it next year.”

Your smile immediately dropped. “Sunday. Oh.”

“Already got a spa day planned, Princess?” JJ smirked from across the way.

“I, uh,” You tried your best to fake a grin. “I’m sorry. I can’t go. I already have plans.”

You held you breath as you waited for someone to respond. This was the third time this month you flaked on your friends without a good explanation. You never knew what to tell them, only that you had plans. You were afraid if you said anything else, they’d find out you were lying.

“Again?” Kie stopped playing her ukulele to look at you. “Seriously. Is there some secret boy we should know about or something?”

You scoffed. “No.”

You felt the most guilty lying to Kie. After all she was your best friend. The one you were supposed to be able to share everything with, even the stuff you couldn’t tell your parents.

“Kie’s right. You bailed on us last week last minute too,” Pope said.

You opened your mouth to say something, but your head wasn’t working fast enough to come up with a lie.

“We all knew this day would come.” JJ’s smirk was gone. He flicked the butt of his joint into the fire and claps off the ash from his hands. “Hannah Montana dips her toes into the wild life. She feels free and independent long enough to decide she’d rather go back to her cookie cutter life and live with all the privilege that daddy has to offer.”

The word ‘daddy’ physically made you flinch. Your eyes narrowed in a tight glare as you dug your fingernails into the palm of your hand, hating that this was the way JJ thought of you.

“J...” John B tried to warn him but JJ didn’t listen.

“No, seriously.” JJ stood up. “I bet the reason she’s not telling us what all her ‘plans’ are is because she knows you’ll all be disappointed. Me? Well, I couldn’t care less whether you hung out with us or not. In fact, I’ve been praying for it. So tell us, Y/N, what are you doing that you won’t tell us? If it’s not some dude, then maybe you decided you’d rather be a Kook. Are you going to fancy lunches and riding yachts across the ocean? Maybe you’re spitting in the faces of the people who work to make your life easier. Maybe -”

“JJ!” Kie yelled.

You stood up, your vision turning red and your skin going hot. Usually you could take JJ’s insults. You were use to JJ throwing your family’s money in your face, trying to make you feel bad for something you can’t control, but this was too much. Because now he was calling you out on your loyalty to your friends. And he was so far from the truth.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” You said. The other three stood up when you took a step in JJ’s direction. John B stood close to you. He didn’t know what you were going to do, but he’s never heard your voice so low and threatening in a long time. The other time was with a Kook who was giving JJ shit. Ironically. “For me to just leave.”

“I didn’t stutter, did I?”

“Well I hate to break it to you, but I’m not going anywhere. In fact, because I’m such a nice friends, I’m going to give you some free advice. First, the last thing you want to question me about is my loyalty to the people who’s lives I would put before my own. Second, I would suggest removing that stick up your ass because it seems like your way too uptight to handle it.”

JJ glared at you and didn’t move to respond. A part of you was surprised he didn’t have anything to come back with and the other part of you was relieved.

The thick tension between you and your friends was suffocating. Your night had been effectively ruined by a simple question. But the sad part is, you didn’t even know who to blame. JJ, or the other man causing most of your guilt and grief.

“Y/N/N...” Kie tried stopping you as you gathered your stuff to leave.

“I’m out of here.”

You stormed out of the backyard and into your car. There was only so much you could take until you broke. And you were not going to give JJ Maybank the satisfaction of seeing you break.

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

You couldn’t fall asleep last night. JJ’s words kept replaying in your head like a bad song stuck on replay. You wanted to hate him. You wanted to blame him for not trusting you. But instead, you hated yourself. Because you’re the reason he can’t trust you. Cause you have secrets you don’t want shared.

Your thumb hovered over his contact. Not JJ’s. The man who’s made your life a living hell for the last sixteen years. You wanted to scream and cry and slap him in his face. But instead, you stayed frozen in fear. Like the little pathetic girl he says you are. And you hated yourself more for proving him right.

Your attention was taken away when someone busted through your bedroom door out of breath. Kie immediately went to your drawers and pulled out the first bathing suit she could find and threw it at you.

“Kie -”

“We need to go,” She said. “Get dressed.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Pope and John B ran out of gas doing grocery runs for Heyward. We need to get them with the HMS Pogue.”

“Where’s JJ? Why can’t he help you?”

“He’s working,” Kie said quickly. “Come on.”

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

You and Kie found Heyward’s boat stranded in the middle of the marsh like Kie said it would be. John B and Pope were waiting for you on the back and thanking you both for coming to help. You hold the gas as they helped you onto the boat. They directed you to the tank while they helped Kie.

As soon as you made your way to the front of the boat, you heard the engine of the Pogue rev and take off. You dropped the gasoline gallon and sprinted to the back of the boat where they left you. John B and Pope waved back to you as Kie drove them back to the Chataeu.

“What the hell?” You yelled at them to come back.

“You and JJ need to work your shit out!” John B yelled back to you.

“What...” You mumbled to yourself before you heard the sound of heavy footsteps running towards you. You gasp in surprise when a sweaty JJ passed you to glare at the boat that’s getting smaller and smaller by the second.

“What the fuck?” He screamed.

“There’s food and blankets in the cabin!” Pope yelled back.

“We’ll come get you in the morning,” Kie said.

You clenched your teeth together with frustration. JJ looked just as pissed off and small part of you was disappointed with that. He turned around, cursing to himself and hitting random shit in his way.

This was going to be a long day.

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

After four hours, you and JJ still hadn’t spoken to each other. He took over the cabin while you laid out on the back of the boat. Your head was running with different thoughts. Should you try to make up with JJ? Should you just continue to ignore him? Should you tell him why you can’t go to the surfing competition tomorrow?

You didn’t know what to do but you knew you couldn’t sit here in silence anymore.

You reluctantly stood in front of him with crossed arms. He was smoking a blunt and looking out into the setting sun. If you were friends, you would take a picture of him right now. The pink sky painted his skin perfectly.

“What?” He said without looking at you.

“Seriously?” You raised one brow. “We’re asked to do one thing on this boat and that’s all you have to say?”

“I’m not sorry for what I said last night.”

“Neither am I.”

“Fine.”

You rolled your eyes. The problem with both of you was that you’re both stubborn. But if the problem with JJ couldn’t be fixed today, you didn’t know how much longer you would be able to put up with his rude remarks and assumptions about you.

“What the hell is your problem?” You said.

“My problem?”

“Yeah. Your problem. You’ve been treating me like shit ever since Kie introduced me to you. What could I have possibly done to make you hate me so goddamn much?”

JJ shook his head in annoyance. “I’m not doing this.”

He got up and walked to the back of the boat where you were sulking not even five minutes ago. You followed him like the stubborn person you were and you continued to grill him.

“I’ve tried so hard to be your friend. I’ve bought you drugs, I’ve even done yours and JB’s laundry. I put in a good word to the tourons who ask about you at boneyard parties. I laugh at your jokes, even when they’re about my friends. I try so hard to be on your good side and you still want nothing to do with me!”

“Because you’re a Kook!”

“So?”

“You have everything. Money, family, friends, a future. I don’t trust you because I don’t know what the hell you want with us. What do we possibly have that you can’t get on Figure Eight? Hm? Are you trying to prove a point to your mom that you don’t need her? You trying to prove to your dad that you’re a tough girl and don’t need his money or protection to keep you safe? Huh?”

“You know what your problem is? You don’t listen! I’ve told you time and time again that I don’t care about any of those things. I hang out with you guys because you are my friends. I have a good time when I’m with you. Why is that so hard for you to get?”

JJ scoffed. “Please. You don’t think I see you constantly checking your cell phone? Making sure no one can see who you’re texting? If we’re such good friends, why won’t you tell us what you’re doing tomorrow? You always have ‘other plans’ and then you never tell us what they are.”

“Because that’s none of your business!”

“If my friends are going to get hurt because of some lying bitch then it is my business!”

You were breathing so heavily, you were basically panting. Your blood felt like it was boiling under your skin and your head felt fuzzy with lack of thoughts. You didn’t know what to say, truly lost for words.

JJ took another step closer to you. You’re so close to him, you can feel his breath on your face and see every mark on his skin. You never knew he had a scar right above his brow or a freckle under his ear. He smelled like weed and sun sunscreen and his breath like mint. Had you not been fired up with rage, you would have thought he looked hot and maybe even made a move.

But now it was the last thing you wanted to do.

“I’m sick and tired of you spoiled brats getting everything you want. You’re nothing but a spoiled rich kid who doesn’t even know the kind of privilege she has if it hit her in the face. You can’t relate to anything we have to go through. You don’t have to get dirt underneath your fingernails to make a buck. You don’t have to wonder where your next meal is coming from. You wouldn’t last a week on the Cut because you’ve never known what it’s been like to live the life we do!”

“You don’t know anything about me!” You snapped. The heart in your chest felt like it was being shredded to pieces by a rapid wolf. You felt like you were being torn apart one by one with each insult he threw in your face. Little did he know, he was wrong.

“I know enough to never want to see you again. I will never accept you into our group of friends. Don’t you get that? So you can stop playing the nice girl act around me and go back to Sarah Cameron and the other Kooks that you still hang out with despite knowing everything they’ve done to us. To Kie!”

Bringing up the fight between Kie and Sarah was a low blow and JJ knew it. It was something you always struggled with because you continued to be friends with both of them separately. At first, they were both mad at you but then accepted your friendship when they came around to loving the idea that you would fight for both of them. You tried getting them to talk and make up, but both of them refused. Maybe you should just stick them on a boat in the middle of nowhere and force them to work it out.

Although, clearly your experience with it wasn’t going so well.

“That’s not fair.”

“Yeah, well life’s not fair sweet heart. But you wouldn’t know about that.”

You thought the fight last night was bad. But this one took the icing off the cake. You wished so desperately that Kie had just trapped you both in a locked room, so at least you had the chance to break out and run away from the darkness that was clouding around you.

You were most upset that this was how JJ thought of you. You didn’t know if you would have the same devastating reaction if someone else had said these things to you. You wanted so badly to be friends with the blonde Pogue. You saw the way he interacted with his friends and you wanted to be a part of that small circle so badly, you would almost do anything to be in it.

But you didn’t think you could last another second of being belittled and tormented with JJ’s outspoken feelings towards you. You wished there was a rewind button so you could go back to bed and hopefully never wake up and you’d lock your door so Kie couldn’t break in.

You swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall and admit your defeat. You wanted to find the nearest corner and crawl into it and escape the murderous glare of JJ Maybank. JJ was wrong. You didn’t have everything. Because in this moment, you still wanted him. And you were just realizing that you never will.

“You judge me by the surface. You’ve never once tried to get to know me. You don’t ask. You just assume that I’m like every other kid on Figure Eight. You don’t know where I’ve came from. What I’ve been through. What I live with. You don’t know my plans for the future or my hobbies or even my favorite color because you didn’t ask!” Adrenaline pushes through your veins like a wave of energy. You’ve never felt so powerful but so small in your life.

“All right. So tell me,” JJ said. “Tell me whatever story you can think of that will change my mind about you.”

You paused, standing there face to face with someone who will never accept you. You were suddenly overcome with so many emotions you didn’t know which one to choose from. Anger, sorrow, fear, confusion, shame.

You couldn’t believe you even thought about telling JJ your story. A story that you haven’t even told Kie. The story about how you were actually born and raised on the far end of the south side. How your dad use to abuse your mother right in front of you before she managed to escape when you were eight. For six months you lived in her car before she got a job as a housekeeper at a cheap motel used mostly for hookers and their cliental. Her employer let you live rent free if your mom accepted a cheaper pay check. During one of her shifts, your mother ran right into Andrew Y/L/N. No, he wasn’t one of the hooker’s clients. He was actually on the property looking to buy out the place. Even though he was a Kook, he looked through the housekeeper’s uniform into my mom’s heart and loved everything about her. He took her on a couple dates, then less than a year later, married her. You changed your last name to his because you didn’t want any relation to your father anymore. You thought the man was scum and deserved to rot in hell for everything he put your mom through. You hated him and even wished for him to die. Sometimes you even thought about doing it yourself. But then you saw him again. At a gas station in the middle of The Cut. You couldn’t believe he recognized you and you were even more shocked he had the audacity to talk to you. And you listened. He told you how sorry he was. How he never meant to hurt your mom. How he missed his baby girl and wanted to be in her life again. You fell for every word because a part of you you didn’t know existed missed having a biological dad.

That was your biggest mistake.

He didn’t change. He was still the same bastard he was eight years ago, using violence and threats with people much weaker than him to get what he wanted. He loved guilting you with your new luxuries. How you now had everything right under your fingertips after you left him to wither away with nothing. He said you owed him. Because you were his daughter and you were supposed to love him unconditionally. And you fell for it every time. He never hurt you like he hurt your mom. A few slaps here and there but nothing to leave a mark to get your mother questioning.

So now you were trapped - trapped in his world and in his life. Using your own money that you actually worked for, little did JJ know, to pay for his bills, his drugs, and sometimes, even his bail.

You didn’t tell anyone about this secret life because you didn’t want anyone to make you feel any more pathetic and weak than you already felt. And most importantly, you didn’t want to hurt your mother by telling her you’ve been supporting the one person she’s been trying to protect you from.

And you were about to risk that by telling someone who probably still wouldn’t care about you even after hearing what you had to say. You are who you are. If JJ didn’t like you now, he shouldn’t like you after telling him your story, anyway.

“No.” You shook your head.

“No?” JJ scoffed. “I’m finally asking you tell me something and you’re saying no?”

“Because you don’t care, JJ! Not really. You think knowing my sob story is going to get you to like me? I don’t need a pity friendship. I am who I am because of shit I’ve had to overcome. And this is me now. So if you don’t like it, then fine. We’ll do it your way and call it quits.” JJ didn’t say anything as you turned around to find somewhere to pass out in hopes of getting morning to come faster.

You found a blanket deep into the cabin and pulled it over your body, shielding yourself away from the world. You hoped the darkness would sweep through your head so you wouldn’t be plagued with torturous thoughts about your past or what’s going to happen to tomorrow. You cried - you cried because even after JJ ripped into your like a zoo animal, he still hated you.

JJ was wrong. You didn’t have everything. Because you didn’t have him.

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

Surprisingly, the sun rose sooner than you expected it to. Sleeping on the swaying boat wasn’t as awful as you thought it was going to be. In fact, it was kind of peaceful with the stars above you and the sound of moving water right under you.

The morning wasn’t so calming. You were slapped in the face with memories of the night before. Your stomach twisted at the thought of being face to face with JJ again. You knew what you had to do and thinking about it made you sick and depressed.

You pushed yourself up and checked the time on the radio. 8:03. Anxiety instantly flooded through you. You only had two hours to get home to be ready in time to run ‘errands’ with your dad.

You looked out to the back of the boat where JJ was looking into the horizon, probably waiting for your friends to come.

Fresh set of tears pricked your eyes at what’s to come. You loved your friends and you even loved JJ. But you couldn’t stay with the Pogues. You didn’t want to make JJ any more uncomfortable than he already was and you were afraid the constant fighting would push your friends further apart. You didn’t want to be the reason for that.

You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders and walked next to JJ. Without a word, you looked out in the same direction he was looking and admired the morning sun.

Surprisingly, JJ was the first one to speak. He looked at you and instantly felt guilty all over again. He tossed and turned all night contemplating on whether he should wake you up to apologize or just wait until morning. He knew he wasn’t being fair. You’ve done nothing but tried to earn his trust since day one. You accepted him for all his flaws and he couldn’t do the same for you. Yeah there was the phone thing and not telling the others what you’re up to, but it wasn’t like you were constantly in his business. If you see him with unexplained bruises, you don’t pester him about it. If he comes back to the Chateau in a pissy mood and blames it on a fight with his dad, you try to make him forget about it with a distraction instead of making him tell you what the fight was about. Why couldn’t he give you the same respect?

Truth was he wasn’t so much worried about his friends getting hurt as he was getting hurt. He liked you more than a friend should which would make your departure from your friends that much more heartbreaking for him. He never felt this way over a girl, let a lone a Kook and he tried so desperately to hate you. But it didn’t work. Instead, it made him feel like the biggest asshole in the world. He wanted to fix what he broke. He told himself he still had time left. His friends weren’t back yet to get him.

“Listen, Y/N -”

“It’s fine, J,” You sniffled. This time you couldn’t stop the tears from running down your cheeks. You tried blinking them away which only made them fall faster. You hated crying in front of people. Your dad always said it was a sign of weakness and you believed him. You wouldn’t be surprised if JJ laughed in your face right now and called you a loser. “It’s done.”

“What are you talking about?”

JJ’s heart physically broke when he saw your tears. He had never seen you cry. Not even out of joy. He couldn’t believe he was the cause of this. That he had made someone as beautiful and as kind as you actually feel bad about herself. He wished he could take back time and start over. He wished he gave her a chance from the beginning. He wished it wasn’t too late.

You both looked up when you heard the engine of the HMS Pogue. In the distance, you could hear your friends laughing and calling out to you, not yet realizing their plan went to shit. You had to make this quick.

“The last thing I want is to get between you and your friends. You don’t have to worry about me hurting anyone, especially Kie. I’ll back off.” You said, making JJ’s brows furrowed in confusion and his heart raced with worry. “I’m giving you what you want. I’ll stay out of your life.”

JJ couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe he drove you to do the one thing he actually never wanted you to do. “Wait. You’re leaving?”

You looked JJ in the eyes and he wished you didn’t. Because for the first time, he didn’t see the light behind your eyes or the little crinkle in the corner when you smiled. They were dull and lifeless, making him sick to his stomach.

“I didn’t stutter. Did I?” You used his words from the other night and it felt like a stab in the heart to JJ.

JJ was left speechless which almost never happens. He wished he could say something, anything, to make you feel differently, to tell you he was wrong and sorry. But nothing came out. He could barely breathe.

“Hey you crazy kids,” Kie’s voice pierces the air, jokingly and airy. If only she knew that wasn’t how you were feeling.

“Missing a key or something?” John B joked alongside her.

“You should have called us sooner!” Pope added.

When the boat came closer to yours, they finally got a look at the two of you. They were shocked to see you silently crying and looking like all the life had been sucked out of you. JJ looked mad but they couldn’t tell whether he was mad at you or them or himself.

The three of them went sick with anxiety, suddenly wondering if this was a bad idea. Kie tried to get you make eye contact, but you wouldn’t look at her. You couldn’t look at any of them - afraid you might actually break completely if you did.

“Y/N/N...” Kie said softly.

“You guys okay?” John B asked wearily.

JJ helped Pope tie The Pogue to Heyward’s boat and hopped on right after. Pope traded spots with JJ and came up beside you and stood there awkwardly. He didn’t know what to do either.

You looked up at him before he could come up something probably stupid to ask. “Can you drop me off please?”

Pope glanced back at his friends and nodded. “Uh, sure. John B will probably get you there faster though if you -”

“No, it’s okay,” You said. You didn’t think you’d be able to handle being in an enclosed space with JJ for another minute. You just wanted to go home and forget the past two years ever happened. “I’ll stay here.”

Pope shrugged at his friends when you trudged back into the cabin and curled yourself into the corner. You didn’t know what the next few weeks would be like, but you hoped they go better than the last twenty four hours did.

[pan-fangirl-345]

He’s Faking It

Summary: You’re Bakugou’s girlfriend, kind of. You’re his fake girlfriend, or so you think.What happens when your jealousy gets the better of you?

A/N: I promise it’s not as angsty as I’m making it seem. I hope? I don’t know man I wrote this at like, two in the morning. It’s fluffy at the end I promise.

He's faking it.

You had to remind yourself of that as Bakugou took your hand.

"(Y/F/N) is my girlfriend," he said, just as he had for the last three months.

It was a lie though. He was just pretending to be your boyfriend to get the girls off his back.

He's faking it.

As a third year, Bakugou was much more popular than he had been in his first year. There were always girls confessing to him and writing him letters.

It had gotten to the point where he couldn't go anywhere without a girl following him, trying to get him to go out with her.

At first he had been letting them down easy, but it had started to get worse the more he turned them down. The more he turned them down the higher the pedestal they put him on got, the more they wanted him.

He had finally had enough three months ago when you had gone out together for groceries and a group of girls had tried to talk him into go to their dorms with them.

Bakugou had walked over to where you were looking at milk, wrapped an arm around your waist and said, "I already have a girlfriend."

You had been so confused, and then you had seen the girls and understood what he had been silently asking you to do.

He's faking it.

"Are these old friends of yours love?" you had asked, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

The girls had left, and the confessions had slowed.

It hadn't even changed things too much other than you spent a little more time being touchy with the ash blond.

He would sometimes pull you into his lap when your friends were hanging out in the common room, he would back hug you more than he normally did, he showed up at your dorm crying when he had nightmares so he could sleep with you.

You had slipped into the role of 'Bakugou's girlfriend' easily, taken the teasing of the rest of the Bakusquad, taken the hurtful comments made by the other girls that you went to school with, and handled the pain of having to pretend to be his girlfriend when you wanted to be the real thing.

He's faking it.

You had been in love with Bakugou since your first year, but you had known it wouldn't go anywhere. You weren't a good fit for him, even if he had thought of you like that.

You had become a member of the Bakusquad because of Mina. She had befriended you and invited you to their game night.

Bakugou hadn't even realized you were there until you won the first, second, third, and fourth rounds of Mario Kart, knocking him down a few pegs.

And here you were now, watching as another girl walked away with tears in her eyes and an unopened letter.

You could sympathize with a lot of them, if you weren't friends with him, you would be one of the girls Bakugou was turning down.

But you were his friend and you had known from the very beginning that he wouldn't accept your confession, so you hadn't bothered.

But sometimes you forgot what your role was.

Times like this.

You and the squad had gone clubbing on one of your rare weekends off.

You had gone to get Bakugou and the others another drink.

When you caught sight of the table, there was a girl in Bakugou's lap.

His hands were on her hips, and he was smiling up at her before he caught sight of you.

"Oh shit, she's pissed," Hanta muttered, following Bakugou's line of sight.

You set the drinks down, turning to the girl.

Now that you saw her up close you realized she was a few years older than you, and much prettier.

"Would you mind getting off my boyfriend's lap?" you inquired softly.

"Oh shit, she's really pissed!" Denki whispered, moving so he was shielded by Eijirou, who was watching with a pale face.

Before Bakugou could say anything you looked him in the eyes and said, "I'm going back to the dorms."

You were hot, had a headache, and had had one too many shots. The pounding music wasn't helping your forming headache, and the constant press of bodies was becoming uncomfortable as you made your way towards the exit.

It wasn't until you were two blocks away from the club and had cleared your lungs and head that you realized what you had done.

"Oh shit," you whispered, tearing a hand through your hair.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

You had just given yourself away in the worst way possible.

He's faking it.

But you weren't.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," you whispered, tears starting to sting your eyes as you hurried towards the dorms, regretting the heels you had decided on wearing.

There was no saving this, was there? There was no going back from this.

They were going to know. He was going to tell them and then it would be middle school all over again.

Fuck.

He's faking it.

But he didn't know that you weren't. 

Or he hadn't until just now.

As soon as you stepped foot into the dorm building the heels were off and you were in the elevator heading for your floor.

"(Y/F/N)? Where are-?" Izuku cut himself off when he saw your face. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"I fucked up," you whimpered. "I fucked up so bad. Bakugou- I- he-" 

You stopped, realizing you were blubbering.

You darted for your room, slamming the door shut, locking it.

People were knocking on your door, asking for entry, they were asking what was wrong, but you didn't really hear them.

You had ruined everything tonight.

Luckily, you would just have to wait until graduation, then you could forget everything about it.

The only problem was that it was still months away, and you still had to go to classes with every member of the squad.

A small sob escaped your mouth, which opened the floodgates.

You sobbed as everything from the past three months spilled over the dam that you had built inside yourself.

You hated crying, everyone knew that. Very few people had ever seen you cry.

Izuku and Shouto had seen you break bones without shedding a tear.

You had never cried in front of the Bakusquad, never. You had always waited until you were by yourself, and it had been quick and quiet tears.

"(Y/F/N)! (Y/F/N), open up!" Bakugou snapped, pounding on your door.

"G-Go away Ba-Bakugou!" you shouted, swiping at your face angrily even though you knew that he couldn't see through the doors.

"C'mon baby, let me in, please," Bakugou murmured, tapping on the door this time.

Baby? Why is he pet naming me now?

"What do you want? To mock me?" you snapped, walking over to the door, throwing it open. "Trust me Bakugou, I'm humiliated enough as it is right now."

Bakugou brushed past you into your room and you sighed, letting your lip tremble for a little bit before you attempted to pull yourself together, turning to him.

"Before you say anything," you began when you saw his open mouth, "I need to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I have no right to be jealous. You should've been allowed to go home with her. You were clearly into her and she was into you and I was- am- a scapegoat. I mean, it's not like I'm actually your girlfriend or anything."

"Baby, what are you talking about?" Bakugou asked, reaching for you. "Scapegoat? You had every right to be jealous. Of course you're my girlfriend! Who told you otherwise?"

"You can drop the act," you snapped.

"Have . . . have you been crying? Baby, I am so sorry, I-" Bakugou stopped when he saw the shaking of your shoulders. "Baby?"

You let out a wet laugh, tears streaming down your face as you looked at him.

"Are you really so worried about someone hearing you that you're lying to my face?" you asked, crossing your arms across your chest. "What happened to not lying?"

"Baby, what are you talking about?" Bakugou asked, reaching out again.

You lurched back, away from him.

The hurt look in his eyes made your stomach roil, but you had been feeling like that for three months.

"Stop calling me baby," you snarled. "There is no one else in this fucking room Bakugou! You can drop the act. I'm not your girlfriend. The thing in the store was a lie. I was just a ploy to get the confessions to stop and then we just kept the act up!"

"Baby, are you feeling okay?"

"What did I say about the baby thing?" you snapped, tearing a hand through your hair.

"Baby," now he was just doing it on purpose. "I asked you out."

"What are you talking about?" you asked, brows furrowing.

"After the store incident, I asked you out on a date," Bakugou said.

You blinked at him, swiping at your eyes again.

"Like I said, you just wanted to keep the act up," you whimpered, hating yourself more than him at this point.

"(Y/F/N), we've been together for three months, you know that right?" Bakugou asked, voice soft.

"And those three months were a lie!" you cried, throwing your hands up. "You were using me to keep the confessions away and I let you. God, I'm as pathetic as everyone keeps saying."

"Baby, who's been telling you you're pathetic?" Bakugou asked, getting that dark look in his eyes.

"All those girls, my parents, you."

"Baby, I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to say those things to you," he said, wincing. "And those girls are just jealous. Baby, you are beautiful, and strong, and you have one of the most beautiful smiles I've ever seen. 

"Look, I love you (Y/F/N) and I've been in love with you since I met you. I was drunk tonight, and I thought that girl was you. That's not an excuse but . . . baby, what do you think has been happening for the last three months?"

"You needed to get the confessions to stop so you asked me to pretend to be your girlfriend and we've kept the act up for the last three months until it was safe for you to 'break up' with me after graduation."

"Baby," Bakugou sighed, tearing a hand through his hair. "Is that really what you thought was happening?"

"That's what's been happening. I don't know why you're trying to-"

You don't know when he leaned in, how he got in front of you so fast, but suddenly his lips were on yours and his hands were cupping your face gently and he was blushing as red as Kirishima's hair.

He had kissed you a lot in the last three months, little pecks on the cheek, forehead kisses, kisses to the nape of your neck when he was sleepy, but he had never kissed you like this.

He had never kissed you fully on the mouth like he was now.

It was messy- you were surprised god damnit- and there was way too much teeth, but . . . he was kissing you.

Against every instinct telling you to pull away, against every little voice in your head telling you not to, you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back.

He made a small noise of approval, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer against him.

When you pulled away to breathe, he followed you.

You giggled, laying your forehead against his.

"There's that smile," he murmured, rubbing his nose against yours.

"So . . . you actually wanted me to be your girlfriend?" you inquired, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"'Course I did," Bakugou told you. Then he grinned, "I can't believe you thought I was asking you to pretend to be my girlfriend. You thought I was pretending to be a complete simp for you for three months!"

"Sh-Shut up!" you moaned, burying your face in his neck, face hot from embarrassment. "I just- I didn't think you'd be interest in me like that."

"Like what baby?"

"Like this. I didn't think you'd ever have room for a woman in your life, let alone someone like me," you answered. "I'm still processing the fact that you kissed me."

“I’m sorry, I should’ve made things clearer,” he murmured, toying with your hair.

“Ya think?” you asked, laughing.

“Can I make it up to you?” Bakugou inquired.

“I mean, knowing I’m not a fake girlfriend is pretty good as is,” you teased.

“Wait, is that why Shitty Deku and Half-and-Half looked like they wanted to murder my ass on the way up here?”

“Probably, I was a mess when I got back,” you confessed, telling him about it as he swayed you back and forth.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, burying his face in your neck. “I should’ve clarified. Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Because I thought we were on the same page. I didn’t think it would hurt as much as it did. And pretending to be your girlfriend was good enough since I couldn’t be the real thing.”

“But you were the real thing,” he reminded you.

“I didn’t know that though,” you replied, smiling at him.

“It’s too late for this shit,” he muttered. “Come back to my room with me. We’re kind of drunk, I have a headache, and I want to sleep.”

He wiped at the mascara that had started to run under your eyes.

“Okay, just let me snag some-”

“You can just take something from me,” Bakugou told you, leading you into the hallway.

“Are you sure? I know you can be-”

He gave you a look and you chuckled, biting your lip.

“Alright then, you’re sure,” you murmured.

“I’m really sorry that you went three months thinking that I was just pretending to be in love with you,” Bakugou said when you got to his room.

“Bakugou, it’s okay, I should’ve just asked,” you replied.

“Katsuki,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Call me Katsuki.”

“Are you sure?”

He gave you another look.

“I just wanted to make sure that you were okay with it,” you murmured, toying with your hair.

“I wouldn’t be telling you to do it if I wasn’t sure,” he told you.

“Okay.”

He nodded, wrapping his arms around you again.

“Clingy,” you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I love you,” he declared.

“I love you too.”

“Then shut up and strip.”

He realized what he said as soon as it left his mouth and he flushed bright red.

“If you wanted me to wear your clothes Katsuki, you could’ve just asked,” you replied, smiling at him.

He sputtered a little bit, shaking his head.

“You’re so easy to fluster, Katsuki.”

He sputtered so more before he stormed over to his dresser, tossing some clothes at you.

“Just change,” he hissed, face still red.

“Not with you staring at me,” you hissed, motioning for him to turn around.

He rolled his eyes, but did as he was told, turning around.

“Stupid dress,” you hissed, shimmying out of it, kicking it to the side as you pulled the shirt on over your head, hauling the pants up. “Jesus Katsuki, how long are your legs?”

“Can I turn around?”

“Yeah, you’re good,” you muttered, tying the pants off so they didn’t fall off.

The shirt fell half-way down your thighs, and you had to pull the pants up to just below your bra to get them to stay up.

“They look good on you,” he murmured.

“Drunk Katsuki is a sappy Katsuki I see,” you teased, making him grumble.

“Can’t I appreciate my girlfriend?”

“You can, but you don’t tend to do it so vocally.”

“Let’s just go to bed dumbass,” he muttered.

“Alright Katsuki.”

As soon as you laid down next to him, he had his arms around you, your legs tangled together, and your head against his chest.

“I love you Katsuki.”

“I love you too (Y/F/N).”

A/N: I have no idea where this came from or why it’s so bad, forgive me for putting it out onto the internet.

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

Prompts no 25, 27, 31 angst and non happy ending because I'm a little sad

The affair

Dialogue prompt 31- I want you to list every lie you ever told me.. then I'll forgive you | I hope whoever you are, you're doing better now. My apologies for bringing it out pretty late.

TW- ANGST | Harry loved him, only till fire burned.

Prompt 25 | prompt 27

It could have been love.

Or perhaps it was love until the arson had lasted and the land got buried in the ashes. Maybe it was love, until the fire remained burning, and the air had stated vanishing and soon it died.

He always knew he thought love was a transaction, to get something back in return for what you deposit in, he never believed in it but was Draco swooned. He let himself take the fall hoping that maybe harry would save him. He knew what he was getting into but too fooled was he to believe that love changes people, he held onto the false hope. He assumed, he believed in himself that maybe, just maybe after everything Harry had been through, after everything he fought for, maybe he'd like to not face change anymore. That maybe after everything, he deserved to be loved and deserve to love. That maybe he too felt that there was none who understood him better than Draco like he did, only he should've known.

But once learnt the hard way, draco didn't know how many loses more could he take. Maybe he felt as though he owed it to harry, that perhaps harry was his last shot at love, no matter what happened. Even with the ever consuming lies building up in the relationship that had been going on for 3 years. But Draco would lie to himself if he said he was happy anymore. He used to be, but he hadn't felt the little comfort in the physical affection or more than a chaste kiss in the past few months and he was afraid. Afraid that his inner voice was right.

" I think he's cheating on me " Draco numbly spoke to pansy as he drank his cold coffee

" oh hone-"

" I knew it " Draco interjected.

Pansy gave him a pity look but oh she knew too. She knew he was cheating. The lies Harry had fed only worked a little.

" how do you know ?" Pansy asked, holding a little of Draco's hand in a comforting touch over the table.

" he told me he'd be at the office yesterday. I went to drop him something but he wasn't there. He had left hours ago " Draco replied blankly stating at pansy drawing circles on the upper side of his hand

" but you can't be sure " pansy sighed.

Draco hummed, deciding to not further talk about it.

Perhaps days went by, Draco had stopped counting, he has stopped looking at the calender when their anniversary passed as a forgotten date. Perhaps weeks since Harry tried to come home and cuddle with Draco. And maybe month too when they last went on a date.

Why was Draco doing this to himself? Fear.

He watched as the light, the spark, the fire diminish in Harry's eyes for Draco but a new one was born each day he left for work, like he had something to look forward to. He felt it in Harry's soft light chaste touches that they weren't a secret, private anymore, they were of Someone else too. He even smelled the perfume of another one on Harry's shirt. Yet he rested in fear, fear he'd never be loved again. Because even if everything, harry still was his boyfriend, by tag but he was.. it was all in the labels. But He didn't even come to Draco's work party.

" why don't you leave him ?" Blaise had asked. Draco only shrugged, yawning.

" do you even sleep anymore?" Blaise tried asking again. Draco shrugged once again. He had lost count of hours he slept too.

But alone in the night, sitting on a bed in loneliness even with the body next to him, he cried relentlessly in silent sobs. He would bite his palm to keep the muffles inside as he'd stare at the man he'd once loved, become Lost. He missed the harry who'd kiss him before sleeping or who'd whisper good night or the one's who dragged draco to shower with him or the harry who'd visit between works to take him out for lunch.. he missed the harry that was only his own and not shared as a public property.

________________________

He sat alone on the table of a family dinner as his father for first In a while looked at Draco in pity sitting next to an empty chair, reserved for his love who never showed up.

" we should start. He must be stuck with something " Draco Whispered.

Narcissa hesitantly nodded, helping serve the dinner and the family ate in low Whispers and soft chews.

And then perhaps as if an old friend has knocked his door, Draco was met with the young boy who loved Harry in his rivalry,who stood for what was right, for what wasn't just to him, one who believed that if love existed he'd never settle for less. Slamming the door shut, Draco instead of disapparating, stumbled back home with one bottle of whiskey he couldn't even drink because of the drowning heart that yearned sobriety.

" where were you ?" Harry has asked sitting on the sofa, watching TV at midnight when draco had stumbled back home.

But draco didn't respond, placed the bottle on the counter top, only little drunk, unknown tears smeared across his face.

" I asked you a question Draco, where were you ?" Harry sternly asked as he turned around to watch Draco

" are you fucking drunk ?' harry was perhaps disgusted but it only made Draco laugh. A mock.

" do you ask your other boy that too ?"

" what- what other boy ?" But harry was a bad liar.

Draco sniffed in as he walked forwards, collapsed on the couch next to Harry's and stared blankly out of the window, tears immediately blurring his vision.

" it was my parents anniversary today? Do you remember ? I told you a day before yesterday to be there, even sent a memo ? Did you receive ?" Draco asked, his legs shaking.

" oh- see I kept thinking I was forgetting something. I'm so sorry babe-"

" don't-call-me-that" Draco sneered

" what is the matter with you ?" Harry asked thoroughly offended

But Draco only exhaled a shaky breath, his hands contributing to the shakiness and he finally landed his eyes upon the man he had lost.

" was I not enough ?" His voice broke as he asked, staring into Harry's lost face

" what are you even on about-"

" your affair harry. Your bloody affair " Draco raised his voice so as to be stern, confident that be wasn't lying.

" what ? I don't have any affair. I'm offended that you even think that Draco. After everything we've been through-"

"bullshit " Draco snapped

" you think I can't see it Harry ? I can sense it across an entire room if you're there or not, don't you think I wouldn't know that the man I loved is not just Mine anymore ?"

" you're being ridiculous " harry rolled his eyes.

Draco gave Harry a weak smile before he went on " do you remember the last time you told me you loved me ?"

Harry frowned as he thought upon until the realisation hit " i- I didn't realize -"

" I don't blame you " Draco shook his head " I can't even if I Want to. Perhaps I am infact not enough.. perhaps I've failed to be who you wanted me to be. I don't blame you harry, I don't-"

" Draco, there's nothing going-"

" what's his name ?" Draco interjected

" there's no one "

" does he make you happy ?" Draco asked weakly

" Draco, there isn't-"

" does he kiss better than I do ?" Draco asked, his voice breaking.

Harry sighed " I'm not cheating Draco "

" then when did you fall out of love with me ?" Draco asked

Harry stared at Draco long enough to see the pain turning to mocking numbness " I never did "

" liar " Draco sneered as he looked away, not even bringing his hands up to wipe his tears.

" I love you Draco-"

" liar " Draco suddenly raised his voice " you're a pathetic liar " he sobbed

" all this time I tried to forgive you in my head but I only need to ask one thing, what did I do to deserve this ?" Draco sobbed

Harry's face filled with pity as he closed distance between them to wipe Draco's tears away but he jerked his hands away.

" I didn't mean for it to happen " harry finally said as he looked down at his feets, as though he was disgusted in himself.

Draco looked at harry attentively " how long ?"

" Draco-"

" how long harry ?" Draco asked sniffing

" 5 months " harry replied. It should not have been a blow, not have hurt this bad, because Draco already knew but he did. Tears rapidly burning his face as pathetic sobs left his lips and he looked away as if he couldn't bear to look at harry.

" it meant nothing to me Draco-"

" it doesn't matter " Draco interjected, heaving for a long breath

" no I mean it Draco, it didn't mean anything "

" if it didn't mean anything then why were you with him tonight instead of me ?"

But in hopes of trying to fix things, harry couldn't formulate an answer without hurting Draco.

" I really loved you harry, I still do and I hate myself for it but I will let you go "

" Draco Don't-"

" I have loved you enough but in hopes of trying to keep you close, I have made you runaway from me and that's no one's but my own fault. Perhaps I loved you too much or too little but neither of it was enough to make you stay " Draco cried in silent tears.

" don't say that Draco. Please. I still love you. I never stopped. I'll leave him for you. I only love you. It was a mistake Draco. I promise it won't happen again. I'm sorry Draco, please, please forgive me " harry begged

Draco offered Harry a little smile before he took Harry's hands in how own, locking their finger's together and kissing his knuckles.

" I Want you to list every lie you ever told. Then maybe I'll forgive you "

And in that sweetness Draco left Harry more broken than he had ever felt. Filled with regret he had never felt. Pain he had long forgotten. Misery and sorrow he had said good-bye too. But it was in his sweetness harry had loved him and it was in his sweetness he had lost him. That night when Draco went away, with no response, he never came back again and harry was left alone.

It could have been love, or perhaps it was, only until the night was young and the sun had not risen.

Till the mortal fire had burnt.

It's basically midnight thoughts.

300 followers appreciation dialogue prompt requests open.

( ps. I reached 400 tho )