#danie yells at obey me!

[danieyells]

I wrote this lil drabble like. Two years ago, back when I was still in the ObM fandom. Turns out I never posted it! I think it's kinda cute/silly and decent, and one of the ObM twitters mentioned the first time Satan encountered a cat, so. Here's a silly story. I don't remember how long ago it was, so canon compliance is virtually non-existent, because I bet I wrote it before I'd read a lot of Devilgrams/they released parts of the story that reveal early stuff.

Tl;dr, here's an old drabble for a fandom I'm no longer in where Satan meets a cat for what's likely the first time.

Lucifer had visited the Devildom on his own time two or three times since the incident his Father had him attend a meeting with the Prince in his place. They'd hit it off quite well and the Archangel found himself asking more and more questions every time he left. This wasn't a bad thing, he found. In fact, the introspection was new and curious. . .but enjoyable. For a demon--no, not for, not despite, but because of it--as a demon, Diavolo had more thoughts and knowledge and awareness of the world than Lucifer had considered there to be. Father had taught them of a black and white world, a good and evil world, when it came to their two opposing kinds. But Diavolo spoke of one of grays, of peace, of unity and progress. One his father had never had them consider.

It made Lucifer think too.

He felt almost like he'd never been allowed to do so before when he did.

But this was only partly about that. No, this wasn't about Diavolo, but in something Diavolo. . .gave him. Or perhaps awakened in him.

Something rude and noisy and hostile, though it started as pouty, grumbly, growly, and huffy.

When Lucifer confessed these negative feelings, his father said they were demonic influence. They weren't allowed in his house. They were bad, designed to make him doubt and hate. They were the enemy.

And so he named them Enemy.

The Enemy started off a question and a feeling of displeasure. The Enemy gradually became a whisper, a growl, a feeling of heat in his head and his heart. More questions, more whispers, then words and scratches, and demands and advice. A feeling, but so strong he had to recognize it as a coexistence.

Because Lucifer was curious. It had something new to say and observations to make. It pointed out things he'd never noticed before. Things that he wasn't sure he liked. (Things he was later certain he disliked.)

The Enemy said to keep it a secret for now. To keep it from Michael, from Mammon, from Asmodeus, Lilith, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Leviathan, even Diavolo.

And especially from Father.

The Enemy lived within him. He couldn't help but fear it. He couldn't help but fear that he couldn't pray it to silence.

Good, said The Enemy. Be afraid, said The Enemy. See how what you knew was all a lie. And as you see and come to know the truth, you won't have anything to fear. We are stronger than the lies. The Enemy told him so.

And he found himself with less fear in his heart and more of something else.

The Enemy called it anger. But Lucifer said it was stronger than mere anger.

Good, said The Enemy. You're learning.

And so they called this feeling in their heart "Wrath".

And The Enemy was louder and stronger when they felt it.

At first only wrath made The Enemy speak. Rarely did it raise its voice for anything else.

But it began to find wrath, even wrath that Lucifer did not feel. Sometimes he felt it when he noticed it. Sometimes he was confused.

There was no reason to push the angels so hard in training. There was no reason to be mad at his brothers and sister for being themaelves, not usually, not to the violent degree that The Enemy wanted him to express.

But all of this is a subject for another day. All of this was not what was happening today. For today Lucifer learned something new about his Enemy.

An outlet could silence the voice and cool down the feeling. Sometimes reason could, and once upon a time so could prayer. But today it was relentless, suddenly and unexpectedly.

'Cat.'

Cat?

There was a cat. Peacefully lounging in the light of the Celestial Sun was a little length of fur and downy wings in the form of an angelic cat. Innocent and minding its own business, it opened clear blue eyes to gaze at the Archangel.

'Cat.'

There were no strays in Father's realm. All creatures, though not all in His image, were His children. The cat felt safe and calm and at peace here. It gave a slow blink of trust, as cats did.

'Cat!!!!!'

Lucifer felt dizzy, The Enemy suddenly burning hot within him. Was it angry? Why? The cat did nothing, wasn't in the way, hadn't made a sound--certainly sometimes The Enemy flew into a rage over a mere existence, but truly the animal was innocent!

Afraid for what was truly something that had done no harm and deserved no trouble, Lucifer began to veer away from it, to avoid it.

The Enemy went ballistic.

'No! You fool! The cat!! The CAT!!!!'

'The cat isn't bothering us. We don't need to bother the cat.'

'Grab the cat, Lucifer. Get the cat!'

'No!' He almost said it aloud, clenching fists to resist what felt like an attempt at seizing control when he began to avoid it. 'You'll do something horrid to it! It wouldn't be the first time! We're leaving the cat alone!'

Not unlike a spoled child being carried away from the candy aisle, the screeching of The Enemy felt as though it could be heard for miles. Usually The Enemy had some sort of reason for things. It was surprisingly, well, reasonable for something that seemed to only feel rage. But this was. . .clawing and wanting for no reason whatsoever. It was more intense than any wrath they'd felt so far.

It was unbearable. Painful, even.

"Alright already!" Lucifer snapped before he clammed up, realizing he'd responded to his internal companion aloud. As he turned around to approach the now confused and somewhat startled feline, he checked his surroundings. Nobody seems to have had heard his cry. Good. 'Fine! We can see the cat! I have enough self control not to let you have your way if you try something. . .unacceptable again.'

The burning calmed down. He could breathe easily again. Taking careful breaths for both if their sakes, Lucifer knelt down beside the cat who had risen to approach him in concern.

'Pet the cat.' The Enemy ordered with a shocking calm. The cat meowed in a friendly and reassuring manner, rubbing against their legs. 'Pet it, Lucifer.'

"I am, I am. . . ." He muttered, reaching for it with uncertainty. It bounced up on its hind legs, little wings fluttering behind it, meeting their hand as they stroked it gently and rubbed its ears. The cat purred and Lucifer sighed, feeling the heat of The Enemy cool. "Happy now?"

Silence.

Lucifer kept petting the cat in confusion, running a large hand down its back and rubbing the bases of its wings.

"Enemy?"

A silence he hadn't heard in a few hundred--maybe even a thousand years. In fact, the heat had fallen away to nearly nothing. He felt. . .at peace. He wasn't even sure he felt The Enemy at all.

It felt like the cat's purring echoed in his head. When it placed a little paw against his chest he wrapped an arm under its rear and scooped it up.

He felt lonely inside his own head. Empty almost. The sudden absence of The Enemy was jarring.

He pet the cat as he carried it home with him, looking around as though expecting to see that part of him outside the confines of his being, though he didn't know what to look for.

His siblings were happy to see him home, worried about his lateness when he'd not said anything about other plans, but were quickly distracted by the offering of a furry friend to play with so long as they stayed outside with it.

The rest of the day, The Enemy was silent and calm.

Aside from that Lucifer felt prompted to give the cat a little wave as Lilith took it to bring out to the garden to give attention alongside her older brothers, whispering to it, "Goodbye. . . ."

A few hundred years later, Lucifer had a particularly bad day with the angel trainees. They were practically steaming. He stormed into Father's house with his report for the day, slamming it onto the desk where the other Archangels were discussing their own days with their subordinates. Lucifer'd been getting more and more quick-tempered lately, his anger lasting more, but they had dismissed it or hushed his concerns that there were perhaps concerns at all. Nonetheless, the head Archangel's wrath was still shocking and noticeable, but before any of them could ask what was wrong, he snapped at Michael, gripping his upper arms a little too tight for comfort,

"Michael, I need you to direct me to the nearest cat, immediately."

He had to admit, some ten thousand years later, Diavolo holding the recently born, newly separated Enemy--now simply Satan--as Lucifer looked at the little welcome gift he'd been given,

He'd started getting tired of cats.

"He's small now," Diavolo admitted, petting the curious rage ball that was Lucifer's 'son,' "But he'll be a great guard for your brothers when he grows up! Or, at least, your home and the Grimoire--I can tell you won't need much defending once you get settled as demons."

The little three-headed puppy was small enough to fit in his pocket(though he had rather large pockets, admittedly) but it was an eagerly welcome gift and a welcome change from his having to seek out cats to relax Satan when they were one. Satan had no problem with other animals but cats were what he cared for most. And having the 'opposing' mammal was somehow very soothing, though he didn't show how odd it felt to no longer be. . .carrying his child? Overwhelmed by Wrath.

"He's perfect." Lucifer gently scooped the puppy up and it panted excitedly. In Diavolo's hold, Satan huffed and lashed his tail, cheeks puffy and claws pressed against Diavolo's strong arms making him laugh. "I'll name him. . .Cerberus."

"Pbbbbbpp!!!!" Satan slapped his little limbs against Diavolo. 'Cerberus? Really? You're naming your dog Spot?'

Or, that's what Lucifer thought would be coming into his head if Satan were still able to share his thoughts that way. Unaccustomed to his new physical form, he couldn't do much in terms of communication for now. He couldn't even walk, so far. He was, for all intents but spiritual and magical, a baby. He could only hope it'd give them time to teach him to be something besides a living negative emotion.

"Is something wrong, Satan? Are you jealous that I named him, but Grandpa named you?" He teased, holding the little demon puppy to the demon baby, watching the more socialized creature lick his personified feelings. Satan at least had already learned not to hit and made a. . .less upset noise than Lucifer anticipated, growling at Lucifer. When the former Archangel leaned in to kiss the child's head, he flinched back in amusement when a pair of clawed hands went straight for him, sharp teeth bared hostilely with a hiss.

"Perhaps he needs more time. I can take care of one--or both--for now, give you time to get settled--"

"There's no need, My Lord." Lucifer insisted, pocketing the puppy and taking Satan into his arms despite that he immediately began to growl, bite, claw, and whip with his tail against him. "I understand I'll have many responsibilities. The sooner I learn to endure them the better."

"If you insist. But I'm always here for you all if you need me. And I'd love to spend some alone time with Satan! He's mine, too, after all!"

Diavolo laughed and grinned at the shy and somewhat annoyed look Lucifer gave him, mirrored almost exactly by Satan. He truly was his wrathful. . .child-clone.

"Mine as in one of my people! But we don't have the familial associations angels do. So it isn't strange if you want to consider me his fathe--"

"Thank you for the gift, Lord Diavolo." He flushed and turned away sharply. Enough of that. "I'll keep it in mind in case of an emergency. But I assure you I'll be a model right hand man and take everything into my own hands. You're busy enough as it is and have already done us enough of a kindness."

He looked to the baby in his hold, writhing and whining.

"You've given me everything. I won't let you down. I'll make sure you don't regret it." A nod, as he departed, bouncing the agitated Satan in his arms. "Say goodbye, Satan."

Satan took in a sharp breath. Rather than make any noise that sounded like a goodbye, he simply screeched and flailed his arms back in the direction they came, startling Lucifer and making Cerberus bark in alarm. Did he want to stay? He'd made Lucifer his rage focus after the Fall, and Lucifer didn't want to admit how lonely it sounded, the idea that perhaps Satan. . .didn't want to be with him. Hated him. (In fact, it was downright anxiety-inducing--but anxiety was a demonic oddity he was still growing used to.)

Or perhaps, based on the soft chuckle of the steward who'd arrived to see them off, Satan had climbed and clawed his way to be able to see behind them and flail his little arms in order to attempt to be given the demonic housecat that Barbatos had carried with him, having had pulled it from someplace it didn't belong in its mousing. Diavolo laughed as well, and the familiar feeling made Lucifer feel less like he'd lost himself, knowing where he was. "You'll have your hands full with Cerberus. Please, if only for the evening."

Seeing Satan's familiar peacefulness, now on a chubby baby face and not disrupting his own feelings due to their connection somehow made Lucifer feel a little okay about it all again. Soft little fingers rubbed the castle cat with expert care and gentleness, petting the familiar, and Lucifer frowned for a moment before nodding and relenting with a sigh. "For the evening."

"Yay!!!" Diavolo scooped Satan up, and, aside from a noise with his mouth, the newform was more concerned by the cat. "Isn't that wonderful, Satan? You get to play with our cats a little longer?"

Satan did a perfect rendition of a cat's meow, purring loudly and contentedly.

The happy quiet was comfortable and reassuring when Satan was no longer a voice in his head. The loneliness felt bearable, knowing he was content. And he had five brothers at home and a new dog to worry over.

He and Satan had been one for well over ten thousand years. Inseparable. In a way, Satan saved them all.

Having had come into being as his 'Enemy,' he'd become something like a precious ally when he was born.

Perhaps they could use some time apart.

[oh-surprise-its-me]

*KICKS DOOR DOWN*

PLEASE WRITE TEACHER!JAMIE AND FIREFIGHTER!ROY!!!!

I have NO CHILL and I'm already in love with the idea.

Like, did they meet because Roy rescued some handsome barely dresses unconscious man and he totally kinda fell in love when he saw those eyes open the first time?

Like.... I just... Me and Jamie need to know 😁

HEHEHE WELCOME HOME BABYYY

I know I’m in love with them too 😭

I’m so sorry I didn’t write exactly what you said but I totally agree…

Also do I know anything about the UK education system? No. Did I google it? No. I’m forcing y’all to live with the American words and style that I use.

-

Uncle Roy!!” Phoebe slams into his legs. Roy bends and kisses the top of her head. “Hey babygirl.” Theres a small cough from behind them. Roy looks over his shoulder at the blond man covered in paint.

“Mr. Kent?” Roy shakes his head. “Roy please. Kent was my father.”

Phoebe gasps, “uncle Roy! This is Mr. Jamie! He let me help the kindergarteners paint today!”

Roy nods, he knew Phoebe was looking forward to this day. “Why aren’t you covered in paint hon?” She bounces over to her locker and pulls out what looks like a big apron. “Mr. Jamie got it for me!”

Jamie flushes slightly and smiles at Roy, “she needed a smock. Saw this one the other day thought she might like it.”

It’s a smock that’s made to look like a bunch of dog faces. He smiles at Jamie, “seems like you’ve got good taste. Thanks for watching her, I got a call right before and it ran long.”

Jamie tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, “cop?” Roy laughs, “firefighter.” Jamie smiles at that he gently taps Roy’s arm, “might have to have you back to do fire safety.”

Roy laughs as Phoe comes back to him. “Sure reach out to the station. We do a lot of outreach.”

Phoebe tugs Roy’s shirt sleeve. “Can we get food?” He laughs and picks her up, “uncle Roy! I’m too big for this!” Jamie laughs from where he’s standing, “I bet no one thinks the kids they see grow are too big.”

Roy smiles at Jamie, “he’s right kiddo.” Phoebe smiles at them, “okay!” Roy laughs and kisses her head. Jamie picks up her backpack, “I’ll carry it to the car for you two?” Roy smiles at him, “thanks.”

They end up outside at Roy’s car. “Go on Phoe get buckled.”

Jamie passes the bag over to Roy and their hands brush. Jamie blushes lightly, “I bet you’ll pick her up again right?” Roy smiles and taps Jamie’s hand, “course I’ll see you again.”

———-

When they got the call of smoke in a kitchen and no one responding to knocks they decided to go.

Roy decides to try one more knock. He bangs on the door. He can hear a yell from inside the house.

“FUCK COMING GODDAMN FIRE.”

The door is ripped open.

Roy can only blink at the naked man with a towel on in front of him. “Mr Tartt?” Jamie blinks at him. “Roy?”

There’s a yell from behind them, “ROY does he know his kitchen is on fire?” Roy spins to look at Dani. Shit right. “Is your kitchen on fire?” Jamie claps and runs back into the room. “Help!”

Roy and Dani take off after him. They end up in the kitchen Roy yanks Jamie back from the sink with the flaming pot in it. “Stay.”

Jamie blinks at him and obeys. Roy sprays the fire with a fire extinguisher. It fizzles out quickly. “Go ahead and tell the guys it’s fine Dani. I’ll ask what happened.” Dani raises an eyebrow but agrees with a nod to Jamie.

“So. What did happen?”

Jamie blushes slightly and shrugs, “you’ll laugh.” Roy tilts his head, “it literally can’t be that bad.” Jamie laughs and gets a bit redder.

“I was going to cook eggs and so I turned it on low. So the oil would heat up. Realized I needed to wash out the hair dye. Ran to the other sink down here. And it burned.”

Roy stares at him. He can’t believe this man teaches children. He takes Jamie’s arm and tugs him over to the table. “Sit. I’m going to explain as to why that was an incredibly fucking stupid idea.”

Jamie blinks. “Can I find pants?” Roy snorts and shakes his head, “you’ll remember this lesson more if we have it right now.” Jamie’s mouth drops open and he twists his hand in the towel, “You’re fucking with me.”

Roy grins and nods. “Go find pants pretty boy. I’ll tell the squad to head back.” Jamie tilts his head, Roy can’t help but think of a puppy. “Okaay does that mean I get to drive you back to the station?” Roy smiles at him again, he nods. Jamie grins at that and dodges into the other room.

Roy has no idea what he just signed up for.

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter ten rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Instead of lying in bed and crying all night, you decided to go out as a venom. You checked the hallway through the peephole in your door before leaving your apartment.

Once you stepped off the elevator, you kept your eyes glued to the floor in case Peter left his apartment as well. Since you weren’t looking up, you ended up smacking into the back of some guy.

“Sorry.” You muttered, still adverting your eyes.

“It’s all good.” He answered. You knew that voice. He turned around and your face lit up.

“Andy!” You exclaimed. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he pulled you into a tight hug. You lifted your legs off the floor and squeezed him as hard as you could. You really needed a hug.

“Hey you.” He laughed, pleasantly surprised that you were happy to see him. “How’s it going?”

“Uh, it’s going.” You faked a smile, not sure what else to tell him. “What are you doing here?”

“Well you’ve been so busy lately that we barely talk.” He said, a little harshly. “I figured I’d come down and surprise you.”

“Really? That’s so nice of you. Thanks for coming.” You squeezed his arm gently and he gave you a bright smile. It was weird. It didn’t affect you like it used to. A gesture like this from Andy would usually keep you up for weeks wondering if it meant he wanted to get back together. He could usually pull you in with the slightest hint of wanting you back. This time, you didn’t feel the pull.

“You alright? Your eyes are glassy.” Andy asked after a few more moments of staring.

“Yeah. Just a fight with my boyfriend. You know how it is.” You shrugged and wiped your eyes with the backs of your hands. You had briefly forgotten about Peter and your fight.

“Right.” Andy said flatly. “I forgot you were seeing someone.”

“This is somebody else.” You clarified. “And he’s my ex-boyfriend actually. We just broke up.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, regretting what you had said. Why would you tell him that? Yeah, you were mad at Peter, but you weren’t going to be mad forever.

“Oh really?” Andy perked up. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“You know, I would really appreciate that.” You answered honestly. “Come on. I’ll show you my apartment.”

You lead Andy back up to your apartment to talk. You knew he wasn’t the right person to air your grievances with, but he was all you had right now. MJ wasn’t answering her phone and you really needed to talk.

You thankfully didn’t see Peter in the hallway as you unlocked your front door and let Andy in. Little did you know, Peter was out on patrol, looking for you.

“So what brings you to New York?” You asked as you got yourself a glass of water. Surely he had other reasons than just visiting you.

“I’ve missed it here. I missed the city, the shops, and you know…you.” Andy said sheepishly. You felt your heart twinge a little at his words. He missed you. And embarrassingly enough, you hadn’t missed him. Not since Peter started taking up all your time, anyway.

“I missed you too.” You lied through a smile.

“No we didn’t.” Venom said telepathically. You shushed her and kept your eyes on Andy.

“So, have you finished up shop here? Can I expect you back in San Francisco soon?” Andy asked as he looked around your apartment. He noticed a lot of framed pictures of you and a certain brown eyed boy.

“Just about.” You answered. “But I’m not sure if I’m ready to head back just yet. I kinda like it here. I’ve set down roots.”

By roots, you meant Peter. You were irrevocably in love with Peter Parker and you wanted to stay in New York to be with him. The longer Andy stayed, the more you wished to talk to Peter and fix things. You didn’t have to go to your flight the next day. You could just go to his apartment and forget your fight ever happened.

“Are you gonna come back for the wedding?” Andy pulled you from your thoughts as he dragged his finger over a picture of you kissing Peters cheek at his graduation. You heard a hint of sadness in his voice, and maybe a little annoyance.

“When is it again?” You asked. All plans about the wedding completely slipped your mind since coming to New York. It was almost funny, this conversation felt so foreign to you. Andy, San Francisco, the wedding. It wasn’t your life anymore.

This was. Peter was.

“August 10th.” Andy reminded you, a little bitter with his tone.

“Shoot. That’s Peters birthday.” You said apologetically.

“Is Peter the one you just broke up with?” Andy almost scoffed.

“Yeah, but like, not forever.” You laughed awkwardly. “I still love him.”

“Who is Peter anyway?” Andy asked abruptly, folding his arms in disdain. “

“Peter is the best.” You gushed, picking up a photo of you and him lying on his bed and blowing some dust off the top. “He’s my neighbor across the hall. I don’t know. We just fell all the way in love. He really understood me and I really understood him. And he makes me want to be a better me. He challenges me, but not in a pushy way, you know?”

“I know.” Andy said quietly, keeping his eyes on you.

“Yeah. He keeps me on my knees.” You shrugged until your face turned a deep red. “I mean toes. He keeps me on my toes.”

Andy’s jaw tightened when you corrected yourself.

“Sounds nice.” Andy said through gritted teeth. He was seething with jealousy and it was evident.

“It is nice. Or, it was. I need to talk to him and fix things. I love that boy with everything.” You said, mostly to yourself. Andy still heard it.

“What about me? Do you still love me?” Andy came up to you suddenly and put one hand on your cheek and the other on your hip. You were surprised by his question, and even more surprised by his actions.

“I had to stop loving you the moment you broke up with me over a job.” You practically scoffed as you moved his hands off of you.

“You’re still upset about that? Come on, Y/n, that was a million years ago.” He whispered, brushing hair away from your forehead. You stubbornly reached up and pushed the hair back in place.

“Yeah, I am.” You said, feeling slightly annoyed. “We were together for two years and then we didn’t speak for six months. So yeah, I’m still a little upset.”

“Why?” He asked idiotically.

“Why?” You raised an eyebrow as you took a step back from him.

“Yea, why?” He shrugged.

“I’m upset because I needed you.” You raised your voice. “I needed you and you weren’t there. You lost me and your job on the same day and I swear, losing the job hurt you more. And while I was begging for jobs and crying myself to sleep, you were off with some other girl, giving her the same ring you said you’d give me.”

This time, you didn’t feel tears coming to your eyes. You only felt pure rage as all the things you wanted to say to Andy for the past year came tumbling out.

“I proposed to her because I loved her. I loved you too.” He defended, getting angry himself.

“You didn’t love me!” You half laughed. “You just wanted to be needed by me. You wanted to keep me small so I’d content at your side the rest of my life.”

“That’s not true.” He scoffed, only increasing your anger.

“It’s not? Then how come you never cared about my work? I never saw you reading my articles or watching my show. You have always been threatened by my success because you knew it exceeded yours.”

“Alright. Maybe I was a little jealous.” He shrugged dismissively. “You were younger than me and had already accomplished more than I had. And you know what? That didn’t sit right with me. I should’ve been the one calling the shots, not you. Am I not allowed to want to feel like a man?”

“You think you’re some kind of man?” You laughed sharply. “You’re just a coward who runs when things get hard. I mean, look at you. Here you are, yelling at your ex girlfriend for making you feel like less of a man. But you know what, Andy? I do not have to apologize for making you feel inferior.”

“Okay, fine. I was out of line.” He admitted. “But don’t tell me you haven’t thought about us getting back together. I know how badly you wanted me back when I first broke up with you.”

“Oh, Andy.” You sighed as you put a hand on his cheek. He smiled at you and wrapped his hand around your wrist, leaning into your touch. You dropped your smile suddenly and pulled your hand away, lowering your voice to deliver the punchline. “That was a million years ago.”

He stepped back when you threw his words back at him.

“I can’t believe you’re still hung up on this.” He shook his head mockingly at you. “It wasn’t that big of a deal. What was I supposed to do? You cost me my job so it cost you our relationship. I’m trying to fix that now. Isn’t that enough?”


“I know what enough looks like.” You took a step towards him and pointed to yourself. “You and your condescension are not it.”

“Y/n, baby, hear me out.” Andy pleaded. He swiftly pulled you into a kiss. You pushed him off and wiped your mouth in the back of your hand.

“You can’t do that. You cannot just kiss me whenever you want. And what about Dani?” You scolded him. Your heart broke for her. She didn’t deserve such an unfaithful man. He looked at you with sad eyes.

“You moving to New York made me realize how much I needed to see you everyday. I broke up with Dani when I realized I couldn’t live without you.” He admitted. “The wedding is off. It’s you that I want Y/n, not her. It’s always been you. You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything when we kissed. Just try again and you’ll see.”

He tried to pull you into for another kiss but Venom came out and snapped at him like a dog, coming dangerously close to his face with her razor sharp teeth. Andy backed away immediately. Venom slinked back towards you and rested on your shoulder, staring Andy down.

“Back up.” Venom growled and Andy obeyed.

“You can’t just kiss me and think everything will be okay. This isn’t some romance movie. This is real life. I’m not going to be the girl who mopes around until the boy who broke her heart comes running back with flowers and a ring. I’m going to be the girl that picks herself back up and kicks his ass out the door. You need to leave. I mean it.” You pointed to the door. Your hand was perfectly still. You had stood your ground and it felt good. Andy nodded solemnly and walked to your door.

“I’m sorry. If it’s worth anything at all, I’m sorry.” He said honestly, giving you one last look.

As soon as Andy opened the door, Peter knocked him out with one punch. You gasped in shock as Andy fell to the floor. You didn’t even realize Peter was in the hallway. You and Peter looked at Andy’s unconscious body and then up at each other. Without saying a word, you rushed towards each other and pulled each other into a passionate kiss.

“I heard every word. I’m so sorry that I doubted you. I love you and I just want to keep you safe.” Peter said against your lips.

“I love you too.” You smiled. “I’m sorry I keep running away when things get hard. I promise, I’ll never run again. You have my word. I’m yours, Peter Parker. Until the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll away.”

Only, that didn’t happen. None of it happened. No matter how much you wanted it to. Andy opened the door and left, leaving you alone in your apartment. You watched as he shut the door, shivering a little at the sound. You didn’t cry when he eft. No, you smiled. A big happy smile. Damn it felt good to move on.

“Thanks babe.” You stroked Venom on her head. “You really had my back. I love you.”

“We love you too but you’re a hypocrite.” Venom answered, making you look at her in confusion.

“What? No I’m not.” You defended.

“You told Andy that he ran away when things got hard.” Venom reminded you. “Is that not what you did to Peter?”

You felt embarrassed at your double standards.

“This is different.” You muttered.

“You’re right. It is different. The difference is you loved Andy but you’re in love with Peter. You have to fight for the people you love. You can’t just walk away.” Venom said, suddenly in a calming and understanding tone.

“Why not? It’s easier.” You said weakly.

“That was before you met us. Now, you have backup.” Venom said and nuzzled into your cheek. You wiped your tears and nuzzled her back. You two were quiet for a moment as she silently comforted you.

“Now go talk to him or we’ll eat your kidney.” Venom said suddenly. You felt your heart stop.

“You wouldn’t.” You said, daringly. You were a little scared she actually would.

You felt a sharp pain in your side that knocked you to your knees. You clutched your stomach as you doubled over in pain

“Did you just eat my kidney?!” You screamed.

“We like to follow through.” Venom said simply.

“Venom!” You exclaimed.

“We’re kidding. We just bit it. Relax. But we will do it for real if you don’t talk to Peter.” Venom argued.

“So I have to talk to Peter or you’ll eat my kidney? Does that sound like a fair ultimatum?” You sassed.”

“Yes. It sounds very fair to us.” Venom replied.

“But Peter didn’t tell us who he really was.” You grumbled. Even you thought it sounded dumb at that point.

“And we didn’t tell Peter who we really were.” Venom reminded you.

“It’s different.” You protested. “He wasn’t hiding the fact that he can turn into an alien with razor sharp claws and teeth.”

“Might I imbue you with some alien knowledge?” Venom asked.

“Please do.” You said sarcastically.

“Peter is a good guy. He had good intentions, Y/n. And we thrive off killing men with bad intentions. So if you apply that to PEMDAS, you can conceivably see that we belong with Peter.” Venom stated. You let out a short laugh. She was making sense…kind of.

“He may be a good guy, but we’re not.” You said, a little sadly. “How many times did he tell us we can’t eat people? He will never accept us the way we are. Why should I ever bother trying to fix things?”

“Because you love him.” Venom answered.

“I do.” You sighed as the picture Andy was touching caught your eye. “I love him enough to let him go.”

“Let him go?”

“Yes.” You made your decision. “There are a million reasons why he and I can’t be together and only one reason why we should. Just because I love him, doesn’t mean I can have him. I’m getting on that plane tomorrow, and you’re not stopping me.”

Meanwhile, Peter had stepped into an elevator with a man who looked incredible familiar on his way back to your floor. He had swung around the city to clear his head and now he was ready to talk to you. The man in the elevator looked visible upset and distraught, and Peter noticed no buttons had been pressed. That meant the man was just riding in the elevator with no place to go. Peter awkwardly stepped forward and pressed the key for the fourth floor. The man noticed it and smirked.

“You going to Y/n’s?” He asked with a wicked look in his eyes. Peter looked at the man in astonishment.

“Yeah. Actually. How’d you know?” Peter asked the stranger. The man looked like he had an idea brewing behind his dark brown eyes.

“I just got back from there. You’re Peter right?” The man asked. Peter was shocked again. He was almost positive he had never met the man.

“Yea. I am.” Peter said wearily. How did this guy know you?

“I’m Andy. Y/n’s ex-boyfriend.” Andy replied with a cocky smirk as he dropped the bomb on Peter. Peters heart fell. Why was he at Y/n’s apartment? Why was he in New York at all?

“Oh, you’re Andy? The guy that broke Y/n’s heart after belittling her for two years?” Peter asked in an innocent tone. He knew what he was doing and Andy seemed to sense it.

“Yea. That’s me.” Andy muttered, no longer feeling cocky. Peter smirked as they rode in silence for a moment.

“What brings you to New York? Y/n told me you moved to San Francisco.” Peter said, desperately wanting to know why Andy was anywhere near you. Peter knew you had forgiven Andy and befriended him, but that didn’t stop him from holding a vendetta against the guy. He broke your heart and he didn’t deserve to ever be in your presence.

“I came to visit her. She’s coming back to San Francisco soon but I missed her too much to wait.” Andy said, attempting to psych Peter out again. They both wanted you and didn’t want the other to have you.

“Right. For the wedding.” Peter said sharply.

“Oh, the weddings off. I actually came here to win Y/n back. And it went pretty well if I do say so myself. But she’s still coming back to San Francisco. Just not for the wedding. She’s moving back to be with me.” Andy lied. Peters heart completely stopped this time. His blood boiled in his body and he looked at Andy with a deadly glare, only just noticing the lipstick, your lipstick, on his lips. So it was true. He had kissed you and now you were moving back to San Francisco, thousands of miles away. Peter felt like there was no air left in the world. He couldn’t see straight at the thought of another man kissing, touching, loving his girl. Andy smirked at Peters reaction. Before Peter could say anything, the elevator doors opened. Peter got out and looked back at Andy with sad eyes. Andy gave him a wicked wave as the doors closed.

Peter slowly turned and walked back to his apartment. He looked at your door and felt tempted to knock. Even though you were the cause of his sadness, you were also the only one he wanted to comfort him. Peter decided against it and went inside. He could hear the sound of you packing your bags, the zippers of your suitcase clinking every now and then. Peter laid in bed with tears rolling down his face, desperately thinking of a way to win you back.

[tickly-trashcan]

Intoxication {Soukoku}

A/N: AAAA DANI HIIII thank you for the request i’m more than happy to write for your parents hehe! I hope you like this one, I had a lot of fun with it (i didn’t proofread though OOP apologies for any errors lmao) and I hope you have a lovely day as well! DRINK YOUR WATER 

Summary: Chuuya drags Dazai home after a night of drinking, and Dazai ends up being a more difficult drunk than Chuuya anticipated.

Word Count: 1.1k (under the cut)

“Chuu-Chuu~ Here comes the Chuu-Chuu train, hehe~” Dazai slurred, Chuuya grumbling as he practically dragged the taller man home. 

They had been out for drinks, but Chuuya had an important mission for the Port Mafia in the morning, so he couldn’t risk being hungover. He also couldn’t cancel on Dazai, he would never hear the end of it. So he had stuck to water that night, and Dazai had decided to take advantage of it and get absolutely shitfaced.

Dazai was normally the one dragging a drunk Chuuya home, and Chuuya was now slightly embarrassed knowing it was this difficult. Although granted, Dazai could normally piggyback Chuuya. Chuuya was shorter than Dazai, so he instead had Dazai’s arm wrapped around his shoulder as he forced him to walk.

“Chuuya~ I love you~” Dazai hummed, giggling before standing up, wobbling a bit as he fell backwards, Chuuya quickly catching him.

“You’re a dumbass, you know that? Don’t try and stand, just… walk, or whatever your legs are doing.”

Dazai chuckled, obeying Chuuya and waddling home with him. Chuuya fumbled with the keys as Dazai whispered suggestive things in his ear, making Chuuya go nearly as red as his hair.

“Shut up! Just get inside!” Chuuya finally got out, opening the door. Dazai had been leaning against it after he had finished flustering his partner, and fell backwards into the entryway, landing with a loud noise. Chuuya grumbled.

He helped Dazai up, but the brunette immediately wrapped his arms around Chuuya’s shoulders, whispering his name before kissing his neck with messy kisses. Chuuya felt his breath catch in his throat as he held onto Dazai, but didn’t push him away. 

Dazai lightly kissed up to the sweet spot right behind Chuuya’s ear, making him melt. He tried to push Dazai away so they could at least get out of the entryway, but Dazai didn’t budge. He kissed all the way down to Chuuya’s collarbone, making him flinch. 

He felt Dazai smirk against his skin, pressing more kisses to Chuuya’s collarbone before he shoved Dazai away.

“Stop kissing me there, it tickles!”

“Ohh~” Dazai said, his tone slightly slurred as he lightly grabbed Chuuya’s hips, directing him away from the entryway and towards the couch. “It tickles~?”

Chuuya tried to back away from Dazai, who had a mischievous grin creeping up his face as he held firmly onto Chuuya’s hips, the sensation causing giggles to bubble in Chuuya’s throat, threatening to burst out.

Chuuya eventually hit the arm of the couch, and Dazai danced his fingers up to Chuuya’s ribs, lightly digging them in and making Chuuya squeak. That single noise was enough to seal Chuuya’s doom, and he felt his stomach flop as Dazai pushed him down onto the couch with a “Wee!” before following him, straddling Chuuya as he yelled.

“Dazai! Get off of me you idiot! Leave me alohohone!”

Chuuya tried to buck Dazai off, but Dazai wasn’t moving. He kneaded Chuuya’s hips lightly, making the redhead positively squeal as he threw his head back, grabbing onto Dazai’s wrists as he squirmed. 

“Fuhuhuck off, Dazai! Stahahap!”

“Is the little Chuu-Chuu train ticklish~? Aww, how cute. Are you gonna give me a Chuu-Chuu?” Dazai teased, his words slurring worse than before as Chuuya whined, kicking his legs behind Dazai as he moved up to Chuuya’s small waist, giving it a firm squeeze as Chuuya wailed.

He let go of Dazai’s wrists and instead pounded his fists into Dazai’s chest, shoving at his face as well, twisting his grin more. Dazai chuckled.

“Chuu-Chuu, your laugh is so intoxicating~ Is that why… I feel so funny?”

“It’s becahahause you’re drunk, dumbahahahass! Now stahahahap!”

“I guess whiskey is pretty intoxicating too, hehe,” Dazai chuckled, scribbling his fingers across Chuuya’s tummy as he squealed, shoving at Dazai’s shoulders as he pinched at his lower tummy.

Chuuya barked out a laugh as his face slowly started to blossom into a shade of pink, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Dazai was ruthless when he was sober, but from previous experience, he probably wouldn’t let up until he fell asleep or got bored since he was drunk. 

Chuuya whined as Dazai changed spots again, now dancing lightly along his ribs as Chuuya clamped his arms down. 

“Dahahahazai! Dazai, no mohohohore!”

“Chuu-Chuu~” He cooed, hiccuping and giggling as he made kissy lips at Chuuya, who was too distracted laughing to notice. Dazai leaned down and started to kiss Chuuya’s neck again, making him gasp and squeal.

“Chuu!” He teased between kisses, lightly nibbling as Chuuya wailed, moving his arms to shove Dazai’s head away, instantly regretting it.

He felt Dazai grin against his skin, and the next moment Dazai had darted his hands under Chuuya’s arms, making Chuuya screech.

“All aboard!” Dazai chuckled, scribbling his fingers under Chuuya’s arms as he arched his back, nearly yelling out cackles as he shook his head frantically.

“STAHAhahap! I’m seheheherious! I’ll kill yohohou! I swehehehear!”

“Till death do us apart, then,” Dazai hummed, making Chuuya wail.

Dazai went back to kissing Chuuya’s neck, occasionally nibbling to make him squeak, Chuuya squealing and cackling as he couldn’t make up his mind on whether to push away Dazai’s head or keep his arms clamped at his sides. Dazai seemed to know this as well, as he wouldn’t relent on either front as Chuuya could do nothing but laugh.

When he would push at Dazai’s head, the underarm tickles would only get worse, and when Chuuya pulled his arms back, Dazai would switch back to gentle nibbling.

Chuuya’s face felt hot from laughing so hard, but he continued to squirm like his life depended on it, much to Dazai’s surprise.

“I cahahan’t! No mohohore, Dazai!” Chuuya wailed through his frantic laughter, scrunching up his shoulders in an attempt to get Dazai away from his neck. Dazai pouted, whining.

“But Chuu-Chuu,” He whined, then yawned. He pulled his hands away from Chuuya, letting himself stretch as he smiled goofily.

“M’tired,” He said groggily, laying down on top of Chuuya and falling dozing off. Chuuya was too busy collecting his breath to even pay attention to the fact that Dazai had fallen asleep on him. When he finally caught his breath and relaxed a little bit, he heard Dazai snore, and started to try and push him off.

“Dazai, you asshole! Get off of me!” He yelled, shoving at Dazai, who only snored, absentmindedly wrapping his arms around Chuuya and pulling him closer.

“Chuuya~” He hummed, and Chuuya sighed in exhaustion. He didn’t want to sleep on the couch, but it looks like he didn’t have much of a choice. As he closed his eyes, he wrapped his own arms across Dazai, holding him tight.

[justplainwhump]

7 - Dany | Games

(Part of the “Shattered Diamonds”- (formerly: “happy”)AU with @ocean-blue-whump)

Dany has been reunited with her kidnapped husband, and it’s not going well.

Dany Canon Masterlist || Sunny Canon Masterlist

[Part 1] [Previous] [Next] || [Masterlist] || [Ao3]

Tagging the Dany and Sunny crew! @ashintheairlikesnow @whumpinggrounds @whumptakesthecake @whumpfessional @winedark-whump @painful-pooch @distinctlywhumpthing @whumping-on-the-ridge @queenofthenoobs @hackles-up @whumping-newbie @just-horrible-things - let us know if you want to be added or removed from this tag list.

CW: kidnapping, referenced pet whump / trafficking (BBU), forced to watch, humiliation, caretaker and whumpee angst.

"Enzo," Dany yells, half out of the chair, but there's a heavy hand on her shoulder and with her hands tied she can't fight it.

Towering over Lorenzo's curled up figure, Ian is looking straight at her, smirking. Waiting.

Shit. She needs to be reasonable. Ian Wilcox is relentless. Dany counts to ten, controls her ragged breathing, focuses on herself. The cheap fabric of the T-shirt and sweatpants they made her change into, to lose any trackers. The metal of the cuffs cutting into her wrists. The bruise on her upper arm, where the driver - Andrey - had grabbed her to lead her here.

She's here. She's strong. She can do this. She can't lose herself in dread now. She has a job to do. That's the only thing she can do for Enzo now.

She cuts his whimpers from his mind, his voice she's so familiar with and yet has never heard so desperate. Forbids herself to look at him writhing on the ground, but meets Ian's gaze instead.

He’s smiling. “So, bitch. If we unlock your cuffs, will you behave?”

Jerkily, she nods.

Ian tilts his head. "Release her."

Andrey's hand leaves her shoulder, and some seconds later with a small click, the cuffs fall off her wrists.

And she obeys. She sits back on the chair and pulls over the laptop computer. It's just herself, doing the job she does every day. Moving illegal goods. She’s good at it. She can do it.

Another man comes in, with a stack of files, and a leering, disgusting glance down at - no, nothing, there's nothing, she can't follow the man's gaze.

Without a word she yanks the files out of his hands and starts flipping through the papers.

There's the files for the pets, Dany skims past these with rising nausea. So many of them. Numbers, designations, photographs. It's making her nauseous. "I don't need these," she mumbles. They know, probably. They just want her to think the one thought she refuses to let take over. That Lorenzo's picture could be on one of these.

No. She's working.

She doesn't find what she needs, though.

"How are... how is the... cargo stored?", she asks carefully.

"Long haul freight boxes", Ian replies. There's a small cry as he yanks Lorenzo back to his knees by his collar. Dany clenches her teeth and looks away, before he can try and meet her gaze. She couldn't live with it. Ian chuckles. "They're called box boys for a reason."

She stares at the bare, windowless wall, eyes following the straight lines of the concrete. "How are they sustained?"

"They're sound asleep. Special container that keeps them warm."

"Do you have freight papers?", she asks. "Cargo declarations?"

Ian sighs. "What do you think you're here for, Hammond?"

"I can... I can get you these, yeah. But..." She frowns, calculating the time frame. "When do you want this shipment to leave?"

"It should be in Rotterdam in ten days."

Her gaze flies back to him. He's serious. Face calm, lightly smiling, while his fingers are playing with Lorenzo's hair. She feels sick. "I hope this isn't a problem."

"It's impossible", Dany breathes. "I don't even have a boat ready, and without the paperwork, it's at least -"

“Are you questioning me?” Ian grips Lorenzo’s hair tightly, drawing a whimper from him. Dany flinches. “Ten days, Danielle. You get the eight pieces of cargo to Rotterdam in ten days, or I’ll be adding another boxie to the list. Hell, he’s even got a collar on already. I think he’ll fit right in with the others. Don’t you agree, Lorenzo?”

“Yes,” he whimpers.

“Yes, what?” The other man asks, the one who can’t stop looking at Lorenzo, the one whose every movement makes Dany’s stomach clench.

Lorenzo’s eyes squeeze shut. “Yes, sir.” 

She wishes Enzo would shut up. She can deal with Ian and his lackeys on a power trip, she can deal with insane pressure, she has turned hopeless situations to her favor more often than not. She can't deal with her husband playing along with their sick game. She can't think, hearing him like this. Like he's already given up. Like she's already lost. She hasn't. They haven't.

"You don't," she mutters. "You don't agree, you don't fit in, Lorenzo, you're not a pet yet and you're not going to be one."

“As long as you cooperate, that will be true.” Ian releases his grip on Lorenzo’s hair. “Ten days. You’ll find a way, if you really want to keep your husband.”

He walks forward and leans on the desk, glaring down at Dany. “Rotterdam. My patience is wearing thin, and I wouldn’t recommend testing me. I can make this so much worse.” He takes a step back, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re the Hammond bitch. So proud of your skills, aren’t you? Figure it out.”

She's pulled a list of the ships at her disposal, their routes, all harbors at the coast. Her eyes are flickering between the lists and the sea charts on the computer screen, while she bites her lip.

Fucking hell. Of course she's right. It's impossible. Two weeks, if she's lucky and cashes in a lot of favors. Twelve days, maybe but that'd border a miracle. Ten days, never.

Ian has been in the business longer than her. He's not an idiot. He must know, too. He's playing her, and she has no idea for what.

"No", she says flatly. "No chance. Fourteen days."

“Well then.” Ian taps his fingers on the desk and turns to the man in the corner. "Adam, why don't you give our good friend Handler Hanford a call? Tell him that we've got a pretty slut on our hands that would fit in perfectly with the white walls at WRU."

Adam grins. "Sure thing, bo-."

"No!" Dany is halfway across the desk, one hand on Ian's arm, the other curled into a fist, before she can think. Before she sees the tiny, knowing smile on his face.

He's playing her.

And she just lost.

[ladydimitrescuspet]

Make Me Feel Better - Chapter 3

ao3 link! fair warning, reader gets spanked, it's not like graphic or anything, but it happens. sorry for the wait, but please enjoy and tell me what you think in my ask box on @homoo-wan-kenobi! and apologies for any grammatical errors!

***

You’d told Angelika that you’d be right back after you went to go check on Natalie. You knocked on her door, hoping that she’d be in there.

"Yes?” She answered when she opened the door. “Oh, Y/N, it’s you! Is everything alright between you and Lady Dimitrescu?” Natalie asked as she let you into the room.

“Everything’s fine.” You said. “I just wanted to make sure you were fine. That she hadn’t done anything to you.”

Natalie gave you a small smile. “I appreciate that, Y/N.”

“I should probably get back.” You said. “But I’m glad you’re okay and I swear I won’t ever ask you to do something like that.” You pulled Natalie in for a hug, holding her for a few minutes before letting go. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.” You said before you exited the room.

As you walked back to Lady Dimitrescu’s chambers you ran into Angelika coming out. “Oh, the Lady wanted me to tell you that she’s gone to speak with Lord Heisenberg and she’ll be up momentarily.” You nodded your head. “And your bath is ready.”

“Thank you.” You replied before you entered to get ready for Lady Dimitrescu’s arrival after her conversation with Heisenberg. Poor man, he was in for it big time with her. And you were right about that.

“Heisenberg,” Alcina started, but he cut her off.

“Listen, Al, before you get all huffy and puffy, let me just say this.” Alcina crossed her arms. “Y/N told me what happened with Daniela, what she said. Did you talk to Daniela at all before you shipped her off to Mother Miranda?” Heisenberg asked.

Alcina shook her head. “I saw no reason to, Heis. She lashed out at Y/N and I simply don’t have time to deal with her behaviour right now. If any one is fit to do so, it’s Mother Miranda.” Alcina replied. “Why? Are you questioning my parenting skills?”

Heisenberg shrugged. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. All I’m saying is that maybe you should’ve talked to your daughter first.” Heisenberg said. “It’s obvious that Daniela feels like you care more about Y/N than you do her and her sisters. And the fact that you sent her away and took Y/N’s side proves that, Al.”

Alcina growled at her brother. “How dare you?!” Alcina practically roared at him. “I appreciate you getting Y/N here safely, but you have no right to talk to me about my daughters. I care for each of them as I care about Y/N. For you to stand there and imply that my daughter lashed out because I am not giving her enough attention is outrageous.” Alcina said in a dangerously calm voice.

Heisenberg gulped. “I know it’s not my place to judge your parenting and I’m not.” Heisenberg said. “But when the girls get back home, just speak to Daniela. Obviously she’s holding some resentment towards Y/N for some reason. She lashed out for a reason, Alcina. And you, you weren’t there for her. I know Y/N needs you, but sometimes you have to tend to your family first.”

“Get out, Heisenberg. Get out right now!” Alcina yelled, her claws extending.

Heisenberg held his hands up. “I’ll go, Al, but talk to Dani before she does something you can’t reverse.” Heisenberg said. "And go easy on the kid, they were just scared, Alcina." He added before walking away from her.

Alcina allowed her claws to retract before letting out a sigh. “Maybe that idiot brother of mine is right,” She mumbled to herself as she headed back upstairs. When she entered the room you were sat on the bed without any clothes on, but wrapped in a blanket. “What do you think you’re doing?” Alcina asked.

“I got cold.” You replied, snuggling deeper into the blanket that you had wrapped around you. Alcina raised her eyebrow and you removed the blanket. “Better?” You asked.

“Much.” She replied before sitting at the vanity. “I see you didn’t listen to my instructions.”

You shrugged. “I didn’t feel like being in ropes tonight, My Lady.” Alcina raised her eyebrow again at you defying her orders to better suit how you were feeling. “May I say something?” You asked and she nodded her head. “I’m worried about Daniela.”

“As you were before you ran away, though you didn’t explicitly say that.” Alcina said. “Heisenberg’s already given me his opinion and told me that I should talk to her.”

You nodded your head. “He’s just concerned about his niece.” You replied. “And I am too. I mean, I’m still hurt by what Daniela said, but I care about her. And this Mother Miranda you sent her to, Heis doesn’t make her out to be a good person.”

“I wouldn’t call Mother Miranda a saint, but she will certainly know how to help Daniela reign in her emotions.” Alcina said. “You needn’t worry yourself with how Mother Miranda works, it’s none of your concern.”

You frowned. “Who even is Mother Miranda, Alcina?” You asked.

Alcina sighed before she met your gaze in the mirror. “That’s an explanation for another day, darling.” Alcina replied. You cocked your head to the side at the reply. “Don’t give me that look. I am very upset you with you and your actions.”

You lowered your head. “I’m s-“ Alcina cut you off.

“I don’t want to hear it, Y/N.” Alcina said before she stood up and made her way over to the bed. “You put not only yourself in danger, but that of your friend, Natalie. If Heisenberg hadn’t found you… Where were you even going?” Alcina asked.

You shook your head. “I don’t know. I just, I got scared.” You replied softly. “I had to get away for a while. I was going to come back in a few days, promise.”

“What were you scared of?” Alcina asked as she crouched down in front of you. “Were you scared of Daniela? Of me?”

You shook your head. “No, not of you, never of you. And Daniela, yes, I am scared of her, but she’s not even here.” You replied.

“Then what, Y/N?” Alcina asked, her voice a bit more firm.

You looked up at her, your lip trembling a bit. “Last night, I had a dream that I was with the people that kidnapped me. And then when Daniela snapped at me, it just made me remember the terrible things they said to me… and I got scared because what if they’re looking for me? I don’t want them to find me.”

Alcina cupped your face in her hands. “So why’d you leave the castle, little one? They’d get you out there in the village, yes, but in here? On my grounds? They wouldn’t dare touch you. Do you understand me?” You nodded your head as best as you could. “You could’ve talked to me about it, you didn’t have to run. Do you know how worried I was about you?” Alcina asked. You nodded your head. “If anything happens to you… I just can’t let that happen.” She let your face go before she went to go get the box from the other night and placed it next to you on the bed.

“What’s that?” You asked.

Alcina grinned. “It’s a surprise.” Alcina replied. “And I’d let you have it, but you haven’t been good for me. In fact, you’ve been very, very bad and Mommy is not happy with you.” You gulped as your heart race picked up. “I see you’ve grown a little scared of what I have planned for you.”

You shook your head. “I’m not scared.” But you both knew that wasn’t true.

“Oh, is that so?” You nodded your head. “Very well then. Shall I let you choose your punishment, hmm?” You nodded your head again albeit hesitantly this time. “By all means, throw some suggestions my way, draga mea.”

“I could clean the castle by myself.” You suggested. Alcina shook her head. “No sex?”

Alcina frowned. “That would be punishment for both you and me, dear. Try again.”

You scratched your head. “I could… you could have your way with me and then, then you could chain me up or, um, put me in the cellar.” You fidgeted with your fingers while you spoke.

Alcina hummed. “It’s an interesting idea, pet.” She said as she leaned down, placing her hands on your thighs. “But first, we’re going to have a little fun. Crop or paddle?”

Your eyes widened at her question. “Wh-what, My Lady?”

Alcina pursed her lips. “You know I don’t like repeating myself. Either you pick one or I do.” She growled out.

“The, um, the cr-crop.” You replied. Alcina grinned as she pushed herself off of you and headed toward her closet. “Will it h-hurt?” You called out to her. She didn’t reply so after a few minutes you called out to her again. “Alcina?”

“Yes, dear?” Alcina replied. Your words caught in your throat when she stepped out of the closet. “Dear, if you’re not going to speak then please let me concentrate in silence, yes?” You gulped before nodding your head and she smiled at you before she went back into the closet.

You let out a deep breath. She looked absolutely gorgeous in the black slip she had on. You didn’t realise she was changing when you had called out to her and the thought made you flush a bit. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t realise she’d come out of the closet until the crack of the crop made you jump.

“Penny for your thoughts, my dear?” You opened your mouth to answer but no words came out causing Alcina to chuckle. “Oh, cat got your tongue, hmm?”

“N-no, My Lady.” You replied. Your face was on fire from when you’d seen her the second time she exited the closet. She’d change from the black slip to a black lacy corset, her stocking connected to her garter belt with suspenders, and a pair of panties that matched her corset. She’d taken her hair down, letting it rest against her shoulder blades. “You look mesmerising, My Lady.”

Alcina hummed as she walked toward you. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere now, soarece mic.” Alcina said before standing right in front of you. “Up.” You obeyed, standing up face to face with her thighs. “You listen so well.” Alcina sat down in the spot that you’d previously occupied before pulling you into her lap.

“I tho-“ You started, but she cut you off.

“Relax, little one.” She cooed. “To answer your question, yes, it will hurt. But don’t worry, Mommy’s going to take good care of you after.” She whispered into the back of your head before pressing a kiss against your head.

“You will, My Lady?” You asked.

“Of course, darling.” She replied. “Now, shall I have you over my knee or would you like to hold onto the wall?” You sat on her lap in silence as she ran the crop over your thigh in a circular motion. “Won’t you answer my question, dear?” She whispered into your ear.

You nodded your head and bit your lip as you thought about which position you wanted to be in. You let out a startled yelp when you felt the crop hit your thigh causing you to cry out an answer to her. “Your knee, My Lady!” Your lip trembled at the sting of the crop, you hadn’t expected her to hit you.

“I told you that it would hurt.” She chided before she pushed you off her lap. “Over my knee. And if you need to help muffle your sounds, you may bite my thigh. I’m not in the mood to take pleasure in your noises.”

You nodded your head before you placed yourself over her knee. You felt her push her other knee against your legs to lock you into place and you braced yourself for the first hit, but it never came. “My Lady?"

Alcina hummed. “I’m just appreciating you for a moment, pet.” The statement caused you to smile and flush a bit.  “How many minutes until the hour, dear?”

“Um,” You started before you turn your head as best as you could to see the clock. “23 minutes, My Lady.” You replied.

Alcina grinned. “Then you will get 23 hits. I don’t want you to count them. I want you to stay still and be good for Mommy. Can you do that for me?” You nodded your head. “Good.” She said before she raised the crop and hit your right cheek causing you to stiffen. “Was that alright, pet?”

“Yes, My Lady, that was fine.” You replied.

She didn’t reply, instead she took her time alternating between both of your cheeks as she hit you with the crop. By the seventh hit, your fingers were digging into the flesh of her thighs as you had your mouth over her thigh to muffle your cries. Alcina made sure to praise you every few hits, proud of how well you were taking your punishment. By the fifteenth hit, you were silently sobbing into her leg, your bottom had gone numb a bit, and your grip on her had tightened. Lucky for you, there were only eight more hits left. But by the time she'd gotten to 23, your body felt like jelly. Your arm was hanging down her leg and your face was pressed into Alcina. You didn't even realise that she'd finished until she sat you up in her arms.

"Hush now, little one, it's over." Alcina said softly as she pressed a kiss to your forehead before wiping away your tears with the pads of her thumbs. You pushed yourself face first into her chest to cry a little more before you allowed yourself to calm down. "Are you alright now, dear?" You nodded your head slightly in response.

Alcina then laid you down on the bed face first and you whispered at the loss of her touch. "I'll be right back, draga mea." She pressed a kiss to your temple before she got up from the bed and headed to the bathroom. When she exited the bathroom you could see something in her hand and noticed that she now donned a black robe. "I'm going to spread this over your bottom to help soothe it." Alcina explained as she sat back down on the bed.

The ointment she out on you was cold at first, but after a while it became quite comforting, making you close your eyes. "So nice." You mumbled out and Alcina chuckled a bit. When she was done she laid down next to you, pulling you back against her.

Alcina ran her hand down your cheek as your breath started to even out. You felt her press a kiss to the back of your neck as her hand came up to you neck. She pressed more kisses to your neck as she held you against her causing you to moan softly. The pleasure of the kisses only lasted a few more seconds before you felt her fangs bit into your neck causing you to scream out in shock.

Alcina drank from you for a moment before she pulled away, her mouth coming up to your ear. Her breath against your ear caused you to shiver. "You're mine." She whispered into your ear. You whimpered when she pushed you onto your back and leaned over you, her hand still choking you a bit. "Do you understand that, draga mea?" You nodded your head as best as you could. Alcina smiled before she leaned down and gave you a kiss, a bloody one to be exact.

When she pulled away, you had blood on your lips and your teeth from when she had pushed her tongue into your mouth. "M-my Lady?" You panted out. Alcina hummed as she pressed more bloody kisses to your neck and chest. "I'm sorry."

Alcina pulled herself away from you and gave you a smile. "I know, little one." Alcina said. "You've been so good for me tonight, I think you deserve a treat. Don't you?" You nodded your head, albeit hesitantly. "It's in the box, go ahead and open it."

You could still feel your blood rolling down your neck as you struggled to sit up. You reached for the box, opening it with shaky hands, gasping when you saw what was in it. You pulled out a black collar with Dimitrescu written on the middle of it, two red roses on each side of the name. The Dimitrescu family crest hung from a ring connected to the collar. You held it in your hands as you looked up at Alcina with wide eyes.

"Do you like it?" You nodded your head. "Splendid. Let me put it on you." You passed the collar to her and allowed her to place it around your neck, making it as tight as possible. "Now, if you ever decide to pull another one of your stupid stunts again, no one will touch you because you're mine." She growled as she tugged on the collar, pulling you closer to her. "Who do you belong to?"

"Y-you, My La-lady. Only y-you." You replied. There was blatant fear in your eyes that pleased Alcina.

Alcina hummed before she attached the collar to a leash. "That's right, darling. You belong to me." She tugged on the leash as she stood up from the bed. "Grab the blanket, pet, you're going to need it." You did as she told you and followed after her as she walked out of the room.

You didn't say anything, but you knew where you were headed. This part of the punishment was inevitable, being put into a cell. "Do I have to?" You asked in a small voice.

Alcina sighed. "I'm afraid so, darling. I wish I didn't have to send you down here, but bad pets need to be thoroughly punished. It'll help you think twice before making bad decisions." Alcina replied. The two of you walked in silence after that, only stopping so she could unlock the door that led to the dungeon. A shiver ran down your spine as you followed her down the stairs, the moaning and growling from the moroaică making you clutch onto the back of Alcina's robe.

"I don't like it down here." You said when the two of you stopped in front of your cell. The cell was customised a bit for you with a small bed and a desk for you to write at. And unlike the other cells, it didn't have bars, but four walls and a door. It was made that way so you wouldn't see anything disturbing and didn't have to worry about creatures being able to come into the cell. When you entered the cell after Alcina unlocked it, you turned to face her. "Please don't leave me down here." You were crying again and you could see the sadness in Alcina's eyes.

Alcina cupped your cheeks and pressed a kiss to your forehead before she straightened herself up. "I'll send one of the girls down here to check on you when they get back." Was all she said before she closed the cell door in your face, locking it.

You stumbled over to the bed, your shoulders rising as you sobbed. Laying down on the bed, you wrapped yourself up in the blanket to provide you with some warmth and comfort. You had no idea how long you would be down here. You pulled your knees up to your chest as you cried and listened to the noises of the creatures outside of your cell, wishing for this part of your punishment would be over, wishing that you'd wake up from this nightmare soon.

[sneksandfish]

Aertha x Satan - Angst || Obey Me!

WARNING! **Descriptive Gore!!!** 

"Satan, you bloody devil, pull yourself together!!!" Aertha screamed at him, holding back to urge to slap him right across the face.

But you know?

She couldn't! Cause one of her hands was cut off because of Lucifer! You see, humans are the devils themselves rather than the actual Satan and Lucifer they proclaim to fear. Humans crave power that they can't claim for themselves. Then when a push comes to a shove, they do everything than can to destroy they create. So when Solomon obtained the grimoire, revealing his true intentions, it was no surprise that the weak are the ones who die.

Aertha witnessed bodies topple over each other one by one. Each MC towering then gone the next day. Hera. Alumi. Amie. Dani. Lex. Danno...she counted each body that laid there before then only bone remained. Their dead eyes hallowed and their bleeding mouths' smiles.

The number of times she threw up in the corner cause of the stench is in a horrifying corner where it dried up against the floor. Aertha refuses to die, and that's what pissed off Solomon to most.

Belphegor surprise attacked Aertha from behind, bringing her down while Beelzebub took her sword from her.

"Let go! I demand you all to let go!!!" She screamed, kicking at the air and missing her targets.

"Let you go? Aertha, what happened to your brave attitude?" Solomon put on gloves then slapped her right across the cheek, "Aertha, it's fine! Isn't it comforting to know the people you loved are going to be around you as you die? Isn't it? This is what every human wants!"

"Against their will?! GO TO HELL SOLOMON!"

Solomon slapped her again, making sure it hurt like hell this time, "We already are in Hell. It's people like you that piss me off the most. I'm sure you want to die cause of the lack of blood."

"Fuck off Solomon," She hissed, writhing in pain from her wrists being held down, "Fuck off!" In one stab, Solomon made sure that Aertha felt the cold blade on her ankle, red fluid gushing out| A loud scream that no one knew it would be that high came out of her mouth and Beel quickly covered her mouth to shush her. 

"Boys, I hope you enjoy your meal thoroughly, make sure not a single crumb is left." Solomon gave Satan Aertha's sword that he took away from her earlier. "Make sure you especially enjoy it the most." He gave Satan two pats on the back then went on his merry way, holding the grimoire close, ignoring the muffled screaming of anger and pain that dulled in the distance.

Beel uncovered his hand and helped Belphie holding down Aertha.

"Guys, guys snap out of it, you wouldn't actually do this."

"But we would Aertha!" Mammon declared proudly.

Leviathan nodded, "I wanted to do this since day one,"

"You're really tasty you know..."

"You should've been dead the moment I killed you the first time,"

"Stop moving you insignificant human. You did nothing cause you humans will always be nothing, you tore our family apart even further."

"My, my...the blood on your skin is far more gorgeous than you ever were..."

Aertha as a last attempt looked at Satan who looked her dead in the eye with a stare she had never seen before, "...Tani please, I want to live, don't let me die like this...You know I love you...right?" She swallowed a sob, "...Right?"

He gave no words but stabbed her in the heart. She coughed up blood and tried to breathe to make her death a little less painful, but how Satan twisted the blade in her chest made it a lot more harder than it should've. Her orbs started to cloud up and Satan pulled out the sword.

"...Do you...really hate me that much..." She mumbled then chuckled, "Damn...then I should've died a lot earlier...what the fuck..."

The brothers watched her body stop twitching in pain and her chest stop heaving in breaths. No memory of her last words were engraved or phased them in the slightest. Belphegor let out a laugh.

"Humans..." He broke Aertha's wrist to make sure she really was dead, "...are really weak after all."  

Slowly but surely, the brothers each took apart Aertha's body to cover up the evidence of what they did, outfits smeared in red and the puddle growing larger and larger. Each one munching on a part of her in silence, yet enjoying how tasty human is. Beel had ripped off a part of her cheek at one point, showing the bone that was underneath it while her eyes stayed in tact.

Satan was munching on her right hand then stopped, feeling an emotion he wasn't supposed to feel. He felt conscious and looked down, seeing the torn thumb close to his mouth. Something inside of him snapped and he let go of everything, scrambling to the closest wall. He saw Aertha's face and how her eyes drooped and clouded to a shade of blue, blood in her mouth and bone visible for anyone to see. He couldn't scream, neither cry, he simply let his eyes drink up the entire scenery before him, feeling a sense of disgust and horror. Sprinting to the exit, he threw up, noticing traces of human bone there and wanted to pass out, feeling delusional.

"...You're...you're kidding me right...This is all just a dream..." He walked back to Aertha and placed a hand on her face, "...This is all a dream...right? Just a realistic one...this isn't true at all... no... not in the slightest..." his eyes looked at everyone who seemed zoned out, yet in ecstasy for the new treat they got. "...You're fucking kidding me....right?"

Satan staggered to stand up from his position, giving a nice kick right into Lucifer's nose, making sure it broke, "ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!" then gave a nice punch to Leviathan, "This...are you for real..."

Satan pulled Aertha's mangled corpse away from his brothers, screaming at them, yelling at them, holding her head close to his chest and bashing his brothers' heads to the floor if needed to get them away from her. His unconscious brothers lay on the floor, heads bleeding lightly, but they'll live from a minor concussion, maybe major for Lucifer.

With two fingers, he shut Aertha's eyes and looked at how distraught she looked when dead. He quietly snickered, then giggled, then laughed, holding her a little closer while her body did rag doll physics. He kept muttering I'm sorry, forgive me, please forgive me, this can't be real, what have we done, i'm so sorry over and over and over again till his voice was hoarse.

Taking her away from the crowd and scenes, refusing to look up at the destroyed Devildom, he found a large grass area that he started to dig up by hand, place her carefully there, trying to make her look peaceful as possible. He then patched it all up, dirt back in the hole and stacked nearby stones for a makeshift grave stone. With field flowers, he pathetically put them there and allowed himself to cry, sitting there while mourning in guilt and many other emotions out there.

"...Do you blame yourself?" Solomon asked right behind Satan. Satan didn't look up and let the dirt be watered by dripping tears and snot.

"...Did you do this?"

Solomon shrugged, walking around the grave, "And?"

Satan rose his head, "...I blame you, you murderer."

//END//

[nelllraiser]

hell’s true north | adam & nell

TIMING: current. LOCATION: hellscape number ??. PARTIES:  @walker-journal & @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: adam follows his compass home. CONTAINS: sibling death (brief references to the bea plot), mass poisoning (from inhospitable domain), parental death mentions.

Vines with the texture of withered leather fingers writhed under Adam’s feet as he stumbled out of a brackish puddle of ichor. Disaster response boots that’d been designed to weather fire, acid, and radiation had eventually yielded before the onslaught of otherworldly environs. Now the ragged soles barely clung to his feet, wrapped tight with bloody strips of bloody demon hide. The most cutting edge kevlar, environment-resistant tactical gear, breathing apparatuses, and deadly military firearms had been gradually ravaged into uselessness by universes full of chemicals and alternative laws of physics that Earthly science had never imagined. As the tactics, preparation, and martial science Adam had once relied on was stripped away in the nonstop battles with demonic flora and fauna, the title of Hunter had become brutally literal. 

Adam spelunked through caverns that formed from the innards of sleeping elder things, scaled cliff sides made of solidified light and shadow, jumped across archipelagos of bone islands floating in stormy skies, climbed up trees the size of skyscrapers whose fruits were embryonic sacks in which monsters gestated, hiked across the savannahs with rolling plains of scalpel-sharp obsidian grass, and tightroped across worlds that were just spider webs of tentacles stretched across abyssal gyres. 

Adam was now a ragged figure where a dauntless soldier had once been, the shreds of his tactical uniform stitched together with leather and pieces of chitin. Once the olympics-ready peak of health, the footballer’s veins were stained with dark lines across his skin and he stumbled across the landscape of grasping roots and tide pools of black blood. His breathing was shallow treks through world after world had wracked the Hunter’s body with alien toxins that even the mutant’s regeneration was failing to fight off. Adam’s vision was blurred with the edges and everything muscle in his battered body begged to just lay down in darkness. 

But the compass in Adam’s hand pointed the way across the hellscape of fire, floating islands of tentacled flesh, and geometric monoliths to old gods that's already sunk into dreaming torpor long before humankind had discovered fire. Adam fought back agony and followed the compass needles across the poisoned land. 

Everything had blurred together by now. Nell couldn’t even clearly remember how she’d gotten to this realm, just that she’d fallen through far too many holes in the ground, off cliff sides, or out of sky-hanging oceans to even begin to remember what world this was. The red skies she’d originally arrived under were long gone, barely a memory after all the worlds that had followed, and all the attacks she'd scrambled to come out of in one piece. Though perhaps calling herself one piece was being generous when she’d resorted to packing the missing chunks of her flesh with whatever she could find that didn’t instantly sting and burn at her open wounds. She didn’t know how long it had been since she’d slept, time still immeasurable in places like these— just that she hadn’t done it since the baykok’s attack. The lack of sleep meant she hadn’t been able to replenish a single shining grain of her magic after she’d been quite literally drained and fed from, her body having nothing but sheer determination to keep her wavering feet from falling out beneath her. 

Something was the very definition of fundamentally wrong with this world in terms of survivability. Nell could feel it in the way each breath felt sharper than the last, and the ugly coughs that had her spitting up black specks on the palms of her hands. None of the places she’d seen could have been described as friendly, but this one felt like it was digging her foot deeper into the grave with every second she stayed. She needed to find a way out if she wanted to make it another hour. Nell was far past the point of finding a way back to White Crest, ready to settle for a hellscape that wasn’t killing the witch with every inhale of her lungs, and go from there if she could manage to last that long. How long had she lasted already? How much longer could she last? She’d always been a fighter, refusing to go down without taking at least a part of her attacker with her. But how could she carve out a piece of a world? How was she meant to rage against an entire realm? Maybe sometimes there was simply nothing to fight against, the hand of Fate snuffing out her life whether she liked it or not. 

And yet she kept walking, limping along as the injury on her leg oozed with some otherworldly infection that promised to kill her if this air didn’t. There was no direction, no plan, just the foolish hope that she’d stumble into a place where she could properly breathe. She walked until she could barely make out a figure on the horizon, squinting her eyes against the bright green and dingy brown of this place while she wondered if this would be the final creature to kill her. But the figure grew closer, and despite her best judgement an uncontrollable wave of hope flooded her chest. “Adam?” she dared to utter, even though she knew it was far too good to be true. Nell and the hellscape had done this before in the form of a tikbalang sending her astray with the perfect illusion of her hunter. “We’re doing this again?” she asked the air in a tone that was resigned to the disappointment of finding another falsehood, the high instantly giving way to a low. “What is it? Another tikbalang?” But this Adam was different. He looked sickly, and past the point of battered— like he’d already knocked on death’s door only for death to tell him to come back in ten or so minutes. They’d call him when they were ready. Why would an illusion-caster show her this? 

Hallucinations had become ever more common as toxic environs and constant otherworldly stimuli wore down Adam’s nervous system. 

Sometimes it was dad, gently reminding him of past lessons as Adam fought his way through nightmarish creatures and tried to find his way through landscapes only possible in other realities. Other times it was James or Terry, come to chat idly about football and girls as Adam trekked across wastelands whose sloping yet flat contours didn’t obey the rules of time and space. Dave gruffly reminded him about knots and the perils of marine warfare as Adam journeyed through rivers that flowed up into the sky and seas of sentint poison. Regan gave pointers on splinting a broken arm with a demon’s bones all while primly reminding him she wasn’t that kind of doctor. Orion nervously recounted facts about obscure demon types as Adam ducked claws and spines while trying to find a weak point. Ariana punched Adam in the arm and reminded him to buck up and put on a tough grin when everything was just pain. Athena gave advice on slowing the poison’s spread through his body with her mixture of tenderness and steel. Kaden brusquely correctly Adam on his stances as the younger Hunter’s limbs trembled with neurological damage, before reminding him to stay alive. Mina kept him vigilant, pointing out dangerous movements and sounds even when every fiber of Adam’s body wanted to sink into oblivion. Morgan spoke gently to him when the horror became too much, her hand on his shaking shoulders when the mental strain of glimpsing elder things sent Adam into seizuring convulsions. Dani reminded him of duty and their ancestral oaths with a concerned smile when ancient deceivers whispered in Adam’s brain, offering easy miracles in his moments of weakness. Luce yelled at him to get the fuck back up and fight when Adam could barely stand and death’s release drew close. Beatrice demanded that Adam remember who he’d come her for, when poisoned dreams threatened to swallow reality entirely. 

So this was not the first time Adam’d met Nell and had to hold back tears when stabbing yet another shapeshifter to death or felt crushing emptiness when it turned out he’d only embraced only empty air. 

Adam looked down at the compass needle, pointing unerringly forward. 

“Hey Nell,” Adam rasped through cracked lips, taking a green stone with a hole through its center from a cord around his neck. He held out the Adder Stone in one hand, gory knife clutched in the other. “When’d you give this to me?” 

Nell looked to the Adder Stone held in Adam’s hand, her solemn resignation to the illusion disrupted by the flickering of uncertainty in her eyes. The compass was a new addition as well, though she recognized the daffodil bloom she’d carefully laid into the face of it, the magic and flowers they’d made together under a full moon. “But I didn’t- I was gonna give you that after the date,” she mumbled, already chiding herself for how easily a couple of emotional trinkets could sway her mind towards what the demon world wanted her to see. But the compass wasn’t what he was asking about. The Adder Stone. Of course she remembered when she’d given it to him- the first of many things she’d gifted in an attempt to keep him safe. 

“After Bea- after we...brought her back.” Nell had masqueraded the gift as a thanks for Adam’s help in bringing her sister back from the ether, but the truth had gone deeper than that. “I said it was for helping protect my family. But I just- the carachs had just given you those visions, and the somnivore thing wasn’t that far off.” It’d been nearly a year ago that she’d delivered the stone, nearly five months after their first meeting at the Ring, and by then she’d already gotten soft for him. “You were hurting and- I didn’t want you to hurt.” Taking the Adder Stone between her fingers, she swallowed hard as she held it before her face, already dreading the moment he’d disappear before her eyes. The motion sent her into a brief coughing fit, the heaves long and loud as her lungs desperately tried to dispel the poison in her system. At the end of it she finally raised the stone’s center to her eye, knowing this vision and her willingness to linger with even a false Adam had already shaved precious moments off the stopwatch that was ticking down the seconds until the poison got the best of her. “Let’s just- let’s get this over with.” It was silly, and she shouldn’t have said it knowing he was nothing more than an exhaustion or demon induced delusion. But she couldn’t help herself as the next words whispered from her lips, trying to find a moment of peace in a land that had never known it. “I miss you. I’ll miss you.”

Finally Nell looked through the stone’s center, still surprised at how solid it felt in her hands, wondering if that was another lie to be chalked up to feeling dead on her feet. Except Adam didn’t fade from view, didn’t disappear into nothingness as she locked her gaze onto his familiar and brown eyes. She gasped, still hardly believing it but reaching out nonetheless, letting the Adder Stone thump unceremoniously against his chest while its cord slackened and her hand found a gentle resting place alongside his cheek. Warmth. Perhaps a little too warm, as if he were running a fever. But there was the unmistakable feeling of life beneath her fingertips, and she didn’t hesitate a moment longer to close the space between them, slipping her other hand into his. Her knees grew even more unsteady, either from shock, barely having the energy to hold herself upright, or both— and for a moment she rested a little more weight against him than she probably should have considering his state. But it was impossible for her not to sink into the first safe place she’d found since the onychorror had snatched her. She’d finally found a place where she was safe in the hellhole. A place where she’d always been safe to crumble, to relieve her walls of their nearly ever-present duties. A place where she knew it was safe to fall because he’d never once stumbled when it came to catching her. “How- How did you- you’re real? Please- either this is a really good mindfuck or-” Or Tate had made good on his deal, and managed to get her hastily doctored sigil back to White Crest. Was it possible something had actually gone right? Had gone so right as to bring the man she loved to her side?

Adam let the knife fall from his hand onto the writhing ground and put his arms around Nell. There was a moment of tenseness, of resigned expectation. But she didn’t turn to mist, slip right through him, or boil up into some hungry thing. Tidal waves of relief and shock at something too impossibly good to be true collided in Adam’s chest. Nell was solid, real. Just a moment Adam couldn’t feel the heat of the burning sky or the poisons of alien worlds killing him cell by cell. 

“I’m real,” Adam assured holding her tight with what strength was left in him. “I’m really here.” He entwined the fingers of their free hands. “I don’t want any other life except one with you in it,” the Hunter confessed, wasting precious water as the tears slid down his bloody and battered face. 

“So uh...here I am.” 

Nell could feel her own tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, an avalanche of relief washing over her near-ravaged spirit, almost still waiting for this moment to break in a way that left her spinning. But the moment never came, and Adam was breathtakingly solid within her arms. For a long breath she savored the peace he brought, like a salve over an open wound. She wanted to bury herself against him, to hide from the world around them and pretend like it didn’t exist, but the fear that he’d disappear if she so much as looked away from his gaze was too great, afraid to even blink lest the break in their eye contact be the blip of time needed for him to dissipate from under her hands. 

She could feel her pulse gain a few extra beats while Adam made his declaration, heart in her throat while she ran his words on repeat through her mind. It was wrong. So wrong that such beautiful words should have to be uttered in a world as ugly as this one, spoken between the gasping breaths of a dying pair. Nell had always known that loving Adam wouldn’t be easy between his constant brushes with death, and the conditioning that often made him feel the need to put humanity’s welfare before anything else in his life. She’d done it nevertheless, having made peace with the fact that maybe he wouldn’t ever wholly be her’s, a part of him always belonging only to his mission. The pieces of him she’d been given had been more than enough. But that didn’t mean his admission didn’t tug at her heart, didn’t make it soar in a way that made a fluttering bloom in chest that had nothing to do with the poisonous air slowly killing her.

“Here you are,” Nell finally managed to repeat in wonder. Hadn’t he been the one trying to convince her to leave him behind should the demon apocalypse commence? He'd told her that she was a part of humanity’s hope for survival, that she should abandon him for the sake of the world. It was his own words that made her know the gravity of him choosing to come for her, to potentially sacrifice one of humanity’s hopes in the form of himself by searching for her in the endless worlds. And that was enough to keep her voice steady and sincere while she spoke. “I don’t want a life without you either.”

Part of Nell wanted to be upset with him, to scold him for being so foolish with his own life by following her into the portal, but she couldn’t manage to speak the words through the temporary moment of solace they’d found in the middle of hell— unwilling to break it. Unfortunately there was something else that needed to be said that would do just as good a job at shattering their moment of quiet. Something she couldn’t ignore. “There’s...something else I need to tell you.” Let her hold onto this shining feeling for just a few more seconds before she brought them back to reality.

Adam had grown up with the knowledge that his life wasn’t his own. It belonged to humanity’s destiny, a merciless idol that generations upon generations of his family had been sacrificed to appease. The abnegation of the self had been soothing in a way, it’d made him brave in a way. It doesn’t hurt to suffer and risk your life again and again if it isn’t truly yours to lose. He tried to never deceive the women in his life. Nobody deserved to be given only part of someone to love. 

Mom and dad had loved each other intensely, and Adam had seen the aftermath after the needs of humanity had demanded yet another sacrifice. At the time he’d thought he’d learned a lesson from Esther Walker’s sorrow, and was determined to never hurt someone the way his father had. 

But after three years of complete radio silence, Adam had spoken with mom and learned too late that he'd gotten it all wrong. As he’d grown, so had she, and neither mother or son were the same broken people that’d parted at Gehena 19. 

Penelope was a person he shouldn’t have loved. She practiced demonology, the very art that’d fucked up the world in the first place. She’d participated in human trafficking and slavery. She’d performed ritual human sacrifice. She’d hunted down bounties without any concern for morality or a higher cause. She aided and abetted supernatural criminals simply because of her personal feelings. When these actions reaped consequences, Nell responded with personal wrath and revenge rather than seeking resolution, splintering tragedy into ever more fractals of repercussion. 

Basically, by every standard he’d been raised to believe in, Penelope Vural was evil, and if she hadn’t been born human Adam would’ve been obligated to kill her. 

But that’s not what happened. At first it’d just been that she was a useful ally. Next it'd just been typical horndog Adam, thinking with the head in his trousers rather than one on his shoulders again. Physical attraction and wary partnership had explained things for only so long however. She was brave, self-sacrificing, vivacious, and free to act according to passion and her free will in a way Adam had never dared to be. Eventually Adam was sharing things with her that he’d never dreamed of telling anyone else. 

He wasn’t supposed to care about someone like Nell, to give her so much of what belonged to the mission. Adam could only love someone also sworn to fight the same war, no one else could understand the sacrifices necessary and what’d inevitably come sooner rather than later. Adam had been introduced to Huntresses his age with the unspoken understanding that eventually he’d find someone to fight alongside and raise children with to pass the sacred charge onto the next generation. 

Adam had drank, partied, and screwed his way into forgetting for a while. Until suddenly, he ended up loving the wrong person, someone who wanted Adam for just himself, war be damned. 

It wasn’t the right thing. 

But what if he just….did y’know?

What he just loved Nell like she deserved without holding back, fight for his own humanity for a change?

Adam just wished he'd had the courage to take that plunge earlier. 

Adam looked parted the embrace slightly so that he could meet her gaze  “What is it Nell?” 

Nell hadn’t planned to fall for Adam Walker, hadn’t even entirely noticed how close she’d let him get until she’d felt like she was on the edge of losing him, delivering the news that August Thompson had died a death far from peaceful— that Adam’s hand had been directly involved in the spellcaster’s demise. Of course she’d known he was one of the people she’d trusted most, one of the only people she’d ever let see her stripped to the core while he’d held her after Bea’s death. It was why she’d asked him to help in the first place. But she hadn’t realized just how much there was to lose until she was standing on the precipice. She’d been convinced that it would be the end, that she’d managed to ruin something before even really letting it begin, and that he wouldn't come back. It turned out she didn't need to worry about him coming back, because he’d never left in the first place. And he kept not leaving, something that had been rare in the life of a witch who had an overzealous temper and a reckless streak a mile wide. 

So when he’d done things others might condemn or draw the line at— killed a werewolf in cold blood, admitted his own bloodlust beneath a full moon, gone on a murder spree fueled by the same moon, considered a demon pact, left her on read in the middle of feeling as if she were about to lose him...there’d been no choice of whether or not she’d grant him the same loyalty, to stay with him just as he’d stayed with her. She’d just wanted him to come home. And he always had. Even now, after fighting his way through literal hell, he’d come home.

Selfishly putting off her bad news for one moment longer, she let months of feeling the sun on her face when he smiled fill her soul, holding onto that feeling as she tried to find the words for what she wanted to say. What needed to be said if they didn’t make it out of this hellscape, and what she should have said much sooner despite being scared. She’d been worried about what he might say in reply, always thinking of that part of himself that she knew he felt he couldn’t give, not sure if she wanted to hear the ‘I’m sorry, but’ that she might get in response. But the man who’d dived into hell for her deserved to hear it, and she wasn’t scared anymore. “You know I love you, right?” He didn’t need to say it back, she’d finally realized that while he’d been walking towards her, knowing loving words could never speak as loudly as his actions had. “I just wanted you to know,” she assured him, letting him know she didn’t need to hear it in return. It wouldn’t change anything. 

Now for the less charming of her news. “Not to...instantly bring the mood down but...the other thing I needed to tell you…” Nell glanced over her shoulder, as if the soul-snatching creature would be there even now as she divulged news of it. “There’s a...slaugh. I think it’s been following me.” Adam would know what it meant, that such creatures only went after those who were generally mere hours from dying, waiting to devour their souls. Nell had glimpsed it as she kept rubbing elbows with death in the hellscape, the being momentarily coming into focus while she’d barely escaped a demon encounter with her life still intact. The creatures were nearly as good at predicting death as banshees were.

Adam followed her gaze towards the burning horizon where plasma storms corrustated in lightning rainbows over living plains of crawling flesh. Slaugh were vultures of the spirit world. As a kid he’d been terrified of the invisible presences that set off his Hunter senses whenever there was a clash between militia forces around the Levant. It’d felt like a blizzard of dark wings, choking him with claustrophobia on empty arid plains covered in bodies shredded by shrapnel.

Mom had assured her son he wasn’t crazy. He could just feel the demons glutted humanity’s senseless wars against itself.  

Adam‘s mind went back to Regan’s prophecy and felt an iron dread settle in his stomach, adding bittersweetness to the joy and relief coursing through his enervated body. 

Adam let the future go and drew Nell close against him again, just letting this moment exist for as long as hell allowed. “We’ll figure it out when we get back to Earth ,” he murmured.

The tension in Nell’s shoulders melted as Adam pulled her back, savoring their togetherness for as long as she could, feeling true hope for the first time since...she wasn’t actually certain how long it had been, not even knowing how many days she’d been stuck in these hell-worlds. She drew a long breath while she was pressed against him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze to assure herself that he was still here- still real even though it seemed impossible that he was. When they got back to Earth. It seemed like a far off hope, like shooting for the moon without any of that bullshit optimism of landing among the stars. “Then you can tell me the plan when we find a place that’s not suffocating us.” He wouldn’t have come without one, right? It was one thing to condemn himself to death, and she wouldn’t be entirely surprised given his generally self-sacrificing nature, whether that had been taught, was natural, or a combination of the two. But it was another entirely to forfeit the life of her as well by diving in without an extraction plan. He wouldn’t have risked the person he was saving.

The slaugh was worrisome enough as an omen of death, but there’d been more to consider when it’s eating of souls was brought into play. Nell still wasn’t all that sure whether she’d want to be raised from the dead in the first place should she perish in the next twenty-four hours, but if the slaugh ate her soul...she wouldn’t have a choice to begin with. You couldn’t raise a body without a soul. 

Again Nell fell silent while she drank in as much as this as she could, the dread in her stomach a constant reminder of how far there still was to go. But with Adam- at least she stood a chance. With Adam they could at least sleep, taking varied watches. And then maybe some of her magic would come back and Adam could heal, and then...well then they’d at least have a fighting chance together, always stronger together. Nell used her fragile strength to bring herself to the tips of her toes, trying to press a gentle kiss to his black-veined cheek before feathering across his lips. “We’ll figure it out when we get back to Earth,” she echoed, recognizing it as another promise they could hold between them. They’d go back to Earth together in the same way they’d fought the dolorphage, the way they’d faced an unknown future beneath the full moon all those months ago, and the same way they’d taken on a demon cult and lived to tell the tale— always together.

[flowerpowell]

Unexpected (Drake x MC)

PART ELEVEN

A/N: Another chapter, yaaay! I thought since it wasnt uploading for weeks, I should post two chapters in a week, so I scheduled this one too. I hope it’s okay! As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts about it! And also I am so happy you all liked Dani! She’s like my baby and I’m so happy youre loving her character! Characters belong to Pixelberry (except for my OCs)

Rating: M (mentions of emotional abuse/manipulation, suggestiveness)

Word count: 2870

Tagging: @gardeningourmet​ @delightfullypinkglitter​ @hopefulmoonobject​ @desireepow-1986​ @dcbbw​ @kingliam2019​ @the-soot-sprite​ @mskaneko​ @thequeenofcronuts​ @dr-ethanjramsey​ @badchoicesposts​ @burnsoslow​ @annekebbphotography​ @alesana45​ @addictedtodrakefanfic​ @walkerduchess​ @ao719​ @texaskitten30​ @lodberg​ @cordonianroyalty​ @emichelle​ @siriusxxvideos​ @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​ @samihatuli​ @choices-lurker​ @i-miss-trr​ @drxkewalker​ @nikkis1983​ @innerpostmentality​ @msjr0119​ @bascmve01​ @mind-reader1​ @edgiestwinter​ @drakesensworld​ @queenjilian​ @princessleac1​ @saivilo​ @yukinagato2012​ ♥

“Are you sure it’s gonna work?” Liam asked when Dani was setting up the table.

“I am! Riley loves cooking too much to pass and she’s always softer when she’s cooking. It’s a perfect plan!”

For the past few days since their deal, Liam and Dani kept in touch, exchanging ideas for how to bring Riley and Drake together. When she told him about her plan, Liam immediately agreed and bought all the necessary things.

“So how exactly this is going to work? We call them to come to the kitchen?”

“No, look,” Dani started gesticulating when explaning and Liam thought it was the most adorable thing he ever saw. Pull it together man, she’s only here for a few weeks. “You call Drake saying you found something important and need him and Riley to see it. They come here and will be informed by someone that they should come here. They will come to this,” Dani motioned the table, “and Riley will hate that because I set the table in the way she hates it. Also, the dish that will be served is overcooked because I know Riley wouldn’t eat it but also because I’m bad at cooking. She’ll hate it but just as she will be about to go full on Gordon Ramsey, she’ll see all these ingredients laying here, exactly what she needs to make pasta à la Nana, her favorite dish. She hasn’t made it since Nana died but because I decorated this kitchen so cozy with all these candles and the music you picked is so nostalgic, she’ll do it and Drake will help her. Riley once told me she always dreamed about a man who would cook with her so I know she will fall in love, I mean, admit she is in love because let’s be real, they are so in love. Ta-daaam!” She finished and Liam chuckled. She looked a little crazy as she was talking about all those steps but for some reason he found it cute.

“They’re gonna kill us when they realize what we did.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “But Riley’s my sister so she won’t do anything to me.”

“And I have immunity so Drake can’t touch me either. Okay, let’s do this,” Liam pulled out his phone and called Drake.

“Hello? Drake, yes, it’s Liam, are you busy?” He asked and looked at Dani shaking her head. “What?” he mouthed and she whispered, “He has to come even if he’s busy!”

“You know what, it doesn’t matter if you’re busy or not, you need to come,” Liam quickly added before Drake could reply. “Yes, it’s urgent. I know it’s very late but it’s important. And it can’t wait. You and Riley need to see it as soon as possible,” he looked at Dani again and she showed him two thumbs up.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting. Please, hurry.” Liam hung up and turned to Dani. “They’re coming.”

“Eeek, that’s so exciting! We need to hide somewhere before they find us! Does Bastien know what he’s doing?”

“He does and he can’t believe he agreed to help us set these two up,” Liam chuckled. He still remembered his guard’s face when he told him about that top secret mission.

He led Dani to one of the guest rooms that were the closest to the kitchen.

“I hope you don’t mind but I brought some snacks for us in case we get hungry. And some cider made from our apples,” he motioned the table with the food prepared for them.

“Man, you really do like your apples!” Dani laughed trying to hide her nervousness. Even though, Liam acted like a normal person she still felt that wall between them, the wall reminding her of his status and her inferiority. She smiled as he poured them cider and handed one glass to her.

Maybe I can pretend we’re equal for a few hours, just this once.

~~~~

“Liam?! Liam! Where are you?” Drake called out as he entered his friend’s office.

“Maybe he’s in his room?” Riley suggested.

“I don’t think so, Liam never invites anyone to his bedroom so he’s not there for sure. Something is weird though, the whole palace seems... empty.”

“Do you think something happened?”

“No but--”

“Ah, Drake, lady Riley, there you are.”

“Bastien! What’s going on? Where’s Liam?”

“In the kitchen. I got instructions to tell you to go to the kitchen,” Bastien said, his face not expressing anything.

“Kitchen? If he found another apple tea for me to test out I’m gonna kill him,” Riley groaned. Drake took her hand and led her to the kitchen.

“Maybe something bad happened to him, maybe he was--” he stopped seeing the candles and the table set for two. “--preparing this all along.”

“Coral roses, my sister’s favorite,” Riley smelled the flowers on the table. “My sister was helping him.”

“I can’t believe they made me leave the house so late,” Drake groaned looking around.

“And what exactly did you have planned? Whiskey drinking? Watching football? Bartie’s with Madeliene and Barthelemy and Bianca is staying with them,” Riley rolled her eyes. Despite being mad at her sister and Liam she found the situation to be quite funny.

“Don’t tell me you’re okay with it,” he narrowed his eyes and she shrugged.

“Oh, no, they are going to pay but for now, I’m happy I don’t have to cook dinner for tonight. Let’s see what they—what on Earth is that?!” She raised her voice when she took a look at what was inside the pot.

“What? Did they put rats in it?”

“Worse, look! It’s severly overcooked! And not seasoned enough,” Riley spit out the food back to the pot before throwing its content to the trash can. She looked around and noticed fresh ingredients.

“Maybe I can cook something? From these things I could make...” she examined all the products before realizing it, “Pasta à la Nana.”

“What? The one you couldn’t make for years?” Drake asked noticing Riley had tears in her eyes. “Let’s just order something, you don’t have to make it.”

“No... I-I can do it. I just need someone to help me because this is a job for two,” she sniffed as she wiped a tear from her eye.

“Riley...”

“No, really. I think it’s time to finally make it again. I think... I think Nana would want that.”

~~~~

“Okay, my turn! Never have I ever had a sleepover at friend’s house.”

“I did spent a few days in Texas at Drake’s when I was still a Prince, does it count?” Liam asked and took a swig of cider when Dani nodded.

“You never had a sleepover?”

“Nope. My father wouldn’t allow,” she laughed but Liam could hear the saddness in it.

“What was your childhood like?” he asked, studying her face.

“Normal, I think. My parents aren’t monster or whatever everyone thinks they are. They took us on trips, to the cinema, for ice cream, they were just very demanding. Well, only my father and only to me. Riley could always do whatever she wanted because they didn’t pay too much attention to her,” she drank a little cider before continuing. “When I was ten I already spoke two foreign languages because instead of meeting with my friends like Riley did, I was stuck at home with a tutor stuying languages. My childhood was good but it didn’t feel like a childhood, if that makes sense.”

“Wow. Only two? When I was ten I already spoke three,” Liam shoved her playfully. “My father was very demanding too. Even though I was the spare it was me who obeyed him, not my brother. He never cared about any rules.”

“Ugh, our fathers suck. Am I allowed to say that about a King?” she asked him and he laughed.

“I’ll allow it.”

“You know what sucks the most?” she asked as she emptied the glass and poured some more cider, “Everyone, including my sister, thinks I had it better. She thinks that at least they loved me, they cared about me and paid for my education. And yes, it’s true but I feel like I had to work for their love, you know what I mean? I had to be their perfect daughter because if I wasn’t, our family would fall apart. I never did what I wanted, never did anything crazy that most people my age would.”

“You never rebelled?” Liam asked remembering his little rebellions. If running to the maze for hide and seek counted as rebellion. He never was good at it, not as good as Leo.

“I did once. I... My father wanted to me to apply for law school. I didn’t want it but I couldn’t argue with my father. So I just... didn’t send the documents on time. When my father found out, it was the worst time of my life. He didn’t scream or anything. He just said he was disappointed because he wanted the best for me and I didn’t appreciate him. The next day my mom told me he was in hospital with severe depression. She yelled at me for ruining my father’s health. I was a mess and I didn’t know what to do. Riley’s younger than me and I didn’t want to bother her with it so I applied for finance even though I hate everything math-related. I went to hospital and I cried in front of my father, apologizing to him and telling him I applied to college. The next day he was back home and told me to never disobey him like that again. And I never did. It was a terrible experience.”

“But that’s manipulation! How could he--” Liam bit his lip before he’d say something he would regret. He heard something about Riley’s parents from Drake but hearing that from Danielle made him sick. Neither Riley, nor Dani deserved such parents. “I’m really sorry. My father was awful but he pales in comparison to yours.”

“I got used to it. Trying my best not to irritate him. I’m working in a bank where he wanted me to work, bringing the money and we’re good.”

“I’m sorry,” Liam repeated and raised his glass. “To problematic childhood, bad fathers and living a life designed by parents!”

Dani laughed as she clinked glasses with Liam. He understood her, which was new to her.

To unexpected allies, she thought to herself. I’d drink to that.

~~~~

“Drake, no, you have to be gentle,” Riley took Drake’s hand and moved it slowly as he was stirring the sauce. “Circular moves, gently, just like that. The other hand holds the pot, good.”

She took some ingredients from the table and started adding to the sauce. “Keep on stirring slowly, I’ll be adding these pinch by pinch so it blends nicely.”

Drake nodded as he kept stirring. There was something special about them cooking together, being so close. It was nothing like Drake knew before, most of the food he made was quick and simple. That pasta was taking ages to make but for some reason he enjoyed each step.

“Okay, now be careful cause I’ll be adding pear puree.”

“I never thought pear and tomatoes would go together,” he noticed.

“Me neither. Nana told me she came up with it when she was pregnant and craved tomatoes and pears. The secret is, you need to caramelize the pears before mashing it and the sweetness goes super well with the tomato. And then Parmesan gives it a bit saltiness but we add it at the end so it’s not too overbearing.”

“You’re really good at this,” Drake turned to her, realizing they were only two or three inches apart. “And you really love it.”

“Well, yeah,” Riley said quietly, “thanks to Nana. She taught me everything.”

“Can I try it?”

Riley nodded and quickly took a spoonful of the sauce and topped it with the cheese before feeding it to Drake. She looked at him, at his mouth, as he was swallowing. “Good?”

“I’ve never eaten anything as good. You have a real talent, Riley. I’m really happy you’ll have your own restaurant soon, you deserve it.”

“Thank you but if you’d rather keep the bar, it’s fine,” she said, surprised with herself. Why did she care more about Drake than about her dream?

“It’s yours, Riley. You’ll prove everyone who never believed in you once the restaurant will become the most famous one in the world,” the certainity in his voice made her shiver. Did he really believe in her or was he just nice? She looked at him as he took a spoonful of sauce, added Parmesan, just like she taught him, and brought to her mouth. She parted her lips and felt that familiar taste, the one that reminded her of her Nana, of home, of love. It was perfect.

“Can’t you see how amazing you are?” Drake whispered and without thinking, Riley stood on her toes and kissed him. He dropped the spoon, and brought her closer to him, deepening the kiss. She put her arms around his neck, trying to bring him even closer but it wasn’t enough. She needed more, more of him, more of that, more.

They were kissing like crazy, like they were waiting their whole life for that moment. Drake pinned her to the stove, knocking out a few plates that fell on the floor and broke. He moved to kissing her neck as she moaned, running her hands through his hair. He pulled back for a second as he realized they were still in the palace.

“Let’s go home,” he rasped and she nodded, kissing him again as they slowly exited the kitchen, locked in a kiss.

~~~~

“I’m not kidding! My mom did tell me to get a plastic surgery once,” Dani laughed as she drank cider.

“What? Why would you need it?”

“She said my boobs were too small.”

“But there’s nothing wrong with your--” Liam composed himself trying not to think about it, “I’m sorry, that’s definitely not anything a daughter would want to hear.”

“Well, she said they were too small and making me unattractive,” she shrugged and realized what she just said. To the King of Cordonia. “Oh my goose, I’m sorry I’m taking about my boobs to you.”

“Goose? Your grandma really loved animals, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, a lot,” Dani answered, relieved Liam changed the topic. “Should we check on Riley and Drake? It’s almost midnight.”

Liam nodded and they tiptoed to the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible. Liam peeked from behind the door to see if they were still inside but the kitchen was empty.

“Drake? Riley?” he called out but no one answered.

“They made the pasta!” Dani took the pot from the counter and tried a little. “So good!”

“Why didn’t they eat it? I’ll leave it in the fridge so they can take it tomorrow,” Liam offered.

“I think they went straight for the dessert,” she giggled and Liam blushed.

“Well, mission accomplished. I’ll be heading home then.”

“I’ll have my driver drive you back to the hotel.”

“Thanks. And thank you for helping me arrange this and for the snacks and cider. And for letting me rant about my parents.”

“Hey, Danielle,” he asked when she was about to leave, “Would you like to come here in the morning? I would like to show you something.”

“I’d love to,” she smiled and left. Liam looked after her until she disappeared completely. He sat down on a chair and put his head in his hands. He needed to stop, whatever that little feeling he had, before it would be too late. Danielle was leaving soon and besides he already lost his chance at love. It was time to stop dreaming and face the reality. He sighed as he decided him and Danielle must remain friends. Now, it was only his heart that needed to follow through with that decision.

~~~~

Drake and Riley were kissing as they entered the cabin, barely closing the door. Drake picked up Riley and brought her into the bedroom, not stopping kissing her even for a moment. He laid her on the bed, his eyes searching hers, looking for something and she nodded, silently answering his question. He pulled off her dress and his shirt.

“Are you sure? I know it’s your--”

“I am,” she silenced him with a kiss and pulled him close to her. It wasn’t the time to pretend she didn’t like him when every inch of her body and soul needed him. It was the time to face the truth.

And the truth was, she was falling in love with Drake Walker.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

What if one of the Joans were more sarcastic and snarky? Like, she stills obey and wince when you yell at her, but she WILL give you a reason to yell. So like Jealous!Jane is yelling at her and being crazy and Joan just sings "Why you so obsessed with me?" (And then stutters like a little pussy when Jane tells her to repeat)

God, I wish that one of the Joan’s were like that because that sounds AMAZING. I’m waiting for the day a Joan appears that I can project my anger issues onto, because Katy, Arlene, and Dani all look too soft-spoken for that. And the other current Joan’s don’t interest me.

[prodigal-imagines]

Punishment - Malcolm Bright -

Cute Little Sociopath asked: "Can I get some sub!Malcolm and his dominant girlfriend? I was thinking like Malcolm throws himself into danger and his girlfriend/dom finds out and punishes him."

Warning: Choking, smut, dirty dirty dirty smut, public sex

You were pissed to say the least. Like proper infuriated seeing red and smoke coming from your ears. Gil had just called you, your boyfriend, Malcolm fucking Bright, has gone and gotten himself hurt, almost crushed to death in a tunnel, blinding following a serial killer without even thinking about what could happen to him. Typical Malcolm. 

So here you were, on your way to the police station to pick him up, making the half hour drive in less than seven, and knowing Gil, he wouldn’t have told Malcolm who was on their way to take him home, just let him sit and wonder if Gil really was the type of person to tell his protective, caring, girlfriend that he went looking for trouble after promising he no longer would. 

Gil really was that type of person.

You pulled in front of the station, and got out of the car, slamming the door harder than you should have, not like you cared at the moment. You took the stairs two at a time, and made your way through the building, the people around you not daring to get in your way. Dani and JT were across the way, watching Malcolm and Gil in Gil’s office, but quickly scattered after you shot them a look, before stopping in front of the door. Malcolm hasn’t seen you yet, but Gil did. Gil’s voice slows to a halt before you throw the door open, standing in the doorway with your arms crossed.

You watched with mild satisfaction as all of the color in Malcolm’s face drained, suddenly looking like he was in more pain seeing you here than his ribs. He opens his mouth to say something- “Babe-”

“Gil, leave us.” you cut him off, not looking away from him. Gil doesn’t need to be told twice, sheepishly leaving his office, closing the door behind him as he does. You walk around Malcolm like a predator observing their prey, shutting the office blinds as you went, no doubt to the disdain of his partners outside. Malcolm chooses not to speak, probably for the better, before you stop in front of him, perching yourself on top of Gil’s desk, surprisingly graceful considering how angry you were.

You roll a bit of your hair between your fingers, not saying a word, just watching Malcolm. He didn’t need you to yell, he knew just by looking at you. He knew he was wrong when Gil was yelling at him, you knew it didn’t need repeating. He refused to look away, instead sending you a pleading look, eyes wide with desperation and pain.

You hop off the desk, before walking around him, sliding his button up off his shoulders, tossing it to the side. Malcolm’s breath hitches, as you reach down and rid him of his belt, choosing to instead grab his wrists and secure them behind him in the chair with the belt. He grunts from the force, subconsciously pulling against the restraints. “Y/N...”

You run your hands through his hair, surprisingly gentle, before reaching the base, using the strands to pull his head back towards you harshly, as he hisses in pain. “You aren’t allowed to talk” You reply, your lips barely grazing his ear, and Malcolm clenches his fists, but doesn’t make a sound. “You know the rules,” you continue, your voice deep but barely audible, just loud enough to send shivers down his spine. “How many times do I have to punish you before you stay out of trouble?” Your hand holding his hair lets go, but he stays tilted back, eyes shut. You run your hand over his jaw, fingertips ghosting, before reaching his neck, where you press your palm, light but heavy enough to cause his breath to hitch. 

He pulls against the restraints and you know its not to get you to stop. “Answer me, Malcolm.” You state, pressing a bit harder.

“Baby, I’m sorry” He moans out, tilting his head back farther, exposing his neck even more, submitting himself to you even more. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his neck, causing a strangled sound to fall from his mouth, the more you work on leaving a bruise. “I want to touch you-” he breaths out, and you suddenly stop, and he’s hyper-aware of your touch no longer there. He opens his eyes to see you sitting on Gil’s desk again, the stoic look in your eyes chilling him to the bone. 

“You don’t get what you want.” You reply. “Look at what you did to yourself today.” You gesture toward his bandages. “That is not reward behavior.” 

“What is my punishment, darling?” He replies, his voice soft and submissive. 

You smile, dark and sultry, before sliding off the desk, his belt in your left hand. It’s then he realize he wasn’t restrained anymore and lets his arms fall, watching you toss it to the side. “Stand up.” You command, and he immediately jumps up, and you rest a hand on his collarbone, and for a moment he watches the anger melt from your eyes, relief that he’s alive setting in for a second. 

But then it’s gone, and you’re pulling him towards you, and finally he’s kissing you, and he can’t control himself anymore. He presses his body closer to you, biting your lip as you groan against him. He walks you backwards until your back hits a wall, and his hand on your waist, pressing against him, his lips trailing down your neck, sucking on the spot right above your collarbone, relishing in the feeling of your nails digging into his shoulder.

Things start to get messy, the two of you rushing to free enough layers from each other, your one leg up over his waist while he grinds against you, savoring feeling how wet you were getting against his cock, groaning at how close he was already. You grab his hand as he slowly slides his cock into you and guide it to your neck, forcing him to press against it, and his hips thrust forward roughly at the action and you toss your head back. He presses harder and can feel your wetness dripping down your thigh as a response. “Fuck me, Malcolm.” You breath out, he presses harder in response. “Fuck me as hard as you want - but you can’t cum until I say so” 

He groans, grinding against you slowly, knowing if he went full force he wouldn’t last long. “Fuck me, Malcolm.” You repeat, more stern this time, and he obeys, pulling his cock almost all the way out of your dripping heat before slamming back against you, rapidly setting a pace, gripping your thigh tightly, guaranteeing there to be marks tomorrow. You start panting, mewing around him, clawing at his back, which just eggs him on more. He suddenly stops, releasing you from the wall, before pulling you towards him, towards Gil’s desk. He knocks a majority of things to the floor, before bending you down over it, gathering your hair in one of his hands, pulling your head back as he slams into you again, causing you to cry out in everything but pain. 

He can feel his orgasm building, almost hitting him like a wave in the ocean, but he goes faster, fucking into you until your panting his name like a mantra, knowing the only way he can get his release was if you reached yours first. So he releases your hair, using one hand to raise your hips just a little bit, stopping when he hears you cry out, and start shaking from the pleasure. 

He uses the other hand to rub your ass, and you’re almost too gone from the pleasure to realize what he’s doing until- 

A loud smack echos around the small office and you barely register the sting, but that sent you over the edge, moaning his name you cum around him, hard, nearly blacking out from the pleasure. He fucks you through it, his thrusts getting erratic, his own orgasm approaching. He’s so close, he can almost feel himself about to let go when all of a sudden it disappeared.

You were in front of him, panting heavily, one hand tightly wrapped around the base of his cock and he whines. “You’re being punished remember?” Your voice is cold, but it turns Malcolm on even more. You take a step back from him, adjusting yourself. “Get yourself cleaned up, I’m taking you home.” He stares at you blankly, unable to think in his stupor. You repeat yourself, and he snaps out of it, rushing to get dressed. You leave him alone in the office, walking out to your car. He’s close behind you.

You take the long way home, your hand wrapped around his cock the entire time, slowly jerking him off, stopping every time Malcolm was ready to cum.

You came five times that night. Malcolm didn’t cum until you had your fifth.  

[danieyells]

IN THIS HOUSE WE LOVE THIRTEEN

lmao saying you have bad taste for having solomon as a teacher aisbdgdks

Thirteen wants to be left tf alone apparently. Too bad we will Not Be Doing That. You must suffer our love ma'am.

[thenicenamesaretaken]

Long is the Night

This is my first @badthingshappenbingo​ card fic and I’m super excited!

Fandom: Prodigal Son

Characters: Gil and Malcolm

Prompt: an angsty fic where Gil and Malcolm get kidnapped, Malcolm gets whumped and Gil can't do anything about it,”  (thanks for the idea, @malcolmwhumply​)

Square: You Said You’d Let Them Go

Tags: Beatings, Drowning, Suffocating, general helplessness and angst, creepy bad guy.

BIG THANKS to @2am-euphoria​, @sonshineandshowers​, and @whumpybliss​ for beta-ing for me!

Find on AO3 here.

Enjoy!

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” Malcolm asked as Gil pulled into the half-filled parking lot of an Italian restaurant.

He’d insisted on accompanying the older man to meet with a possible source with information about their current case.  A woman had called their tip line, ensuring them that she had information and more importantly photographs that would allow them to put their suspects away for a very long time.  But she’d insisted on meeting with Gil one-on-one, afraid of potential repercussions if it was discovered that she’d talked to the police.  This case had been a difficult one involving two teenagers who’d been murdered, possibly as part of a gang initiation.  Their suspects were smart, part of an organization that excelled at covering their tracks and keeping their hands clean, using thugs and proxies to do their dirty work.  This woman’s photographs would provide them with the concrete evidence they needed to finally pin down the two men they had in police custody.

No one had been happy with the idea of Gil going alone, and Malcolm had finally persuaded Gil to take him along under two conditions: Malcolm would wait in the car until Gil met the woman and ensured that she would be okay with Malcolm joining them.  JT had also stipulated that if he or Dani hadn’t heard from them within an hour of arriving at the restaurant, they’d be sending in the cavalry.

Gil drove past the restaurant once before pulling in, checking for anything that was immediately suspicious.  From what he could see from the road nothing seemed off, and Gil pulled in on their next pass.

Gil turned to face Malcolm.  “It’s going to be fine, Bright.  There are too many people here for anyone to pull anything, and I don’t want to spook her.  Let Dani and JT know we made it, wait for my text, and stay in the car.”

Malcolm opened his mouth, clearly wanting to argue, but he refrained. He slumped sullenly in the passenger seat like a child, and pulled out his phone to contact the others.

Gil made sure his badge and gun were both well hidden by shirt and coat before exiting the car. Despite the reassurance he’d left Malcolm with, his eyes scanned the surrounding area warily as he headed towards the entrance.

He knew he’d made a mistake as soon as he walked inside.  There was no hostess, and the dining room was empty, save for three men sitting casually at a table, and two men who’d been waiting for him by the door, guns already drawn. They quickly divested him of his own side arm and cell phone without saying a word.

“What is this?” Gil asked, turning to look at each of them. His question received no response, only the force of heavy hands on his shoulders as they pushed him further into the building.

“Ah, Lieutenant Arroyo. So good of you to join us,” a deceptively smooth voice finally broke the silence as a tall, handsome, middle-aged man strode out of the kitchen.

Gil recognized him as a man only known as Santos, who the NYPD suspected had ties to their current case. the man who pulled the strings of a bigger operation whilst hiding in the  background as charges slid off of him like water. 

“Santos, why am I not surprised?” Gil replied, his tone even, almost bored.  “What’s your play here?  I know you’re not stupid enough to kill a cop.”

“I just want to talk, Lieutenant,” Santos replied in a lightly accented voice, spreading his hands innocently.

Gil noticed that the thugs’ vice grip on his shoulders had disappeared, although the two men still closely flanked him.

“Why don’t you join me in the kitchen?  It's a much more... intimate setting for a discussion such as this,” Santos suggested with an almost friendly smile.

Gil didn’t buy it for a second.  He’d jailed two of Santos’ known associates and suspected that Santos had orchestrated this in a desperate attempt at ensuring their release.

The man on his left urged him forward with a sharp nudge, and Gil obliged.  He had no doubt that Santos--or rather, one of Santos’ thugs--wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him if he tried anything. It was possible that this was just an attempt at intimidation, a power play for Santos, demonstrating how easily he could get at someone like a police lieutenant.  All Gil had to do was keep this ‘conversation’ going for an hour, and then backup would arrive.  

Santos took a seat at a small table with two chairs which had been placed in an open corner of the kitchen, beckoning for Gil to join him.  There were two glasses of what Gil guessed to be wine on the table and a decanter, sitting in ice.

“Come on, Santos, don’t waste my time with pleasantries.  What do you want?”

Santos sat back comfortably, taking a sip of his wine.

“Are you always in such a rush, Lieutenant?  Pity.  But, you’re right, best to get down to business.  I need a simple favor.  I need you to, how would you say... lose some items related to this case you’re working on.  Individually, they are nothing.  But eventually, they’ll become something, and I need them gone before that happens.”

Gil scoffed.  “You’re telling me we have the evidence we need to break this case already, and you want me to get rid of it?  I don’t think so.  Besides, it's not possible.  I can’t just make evidence disappear.”

Santos sighed, full of dramatic disappointment.  “Lieutenant, I’d really prefer to keep this conversation friendly.  This doesn’t have to be difficult.  Make a phone call, tell them whatever they want to hear, have these items brought here, and you go on your way.  Nothing unsavory needs to happen.”

Gil stared at him hard.  “And if I don’t?  You’ll assault a police officer?  Kill me?  Like I said, you aren’t that stupid.  So how about this, you let me go now, and I won’t send every officer at my disposal down to arrest you.”

Santos chuckled.  “Arrest me for what, Lieutenant?  I’ve done nothing wrong.  Whatever these other men have done, well, that’s out of my control.  According to the cameras here, you and I are just having a nice chat and no one has laid a finger on you.  In fact, you’re free to go at any time.  But I wouldn’t, if I were you.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because, Lieutenant Arroyo, while I have no intention of letting these men harm you, I cannot say the same is true for him,” Santos explained, jerking his head towards the rear of the kitchen as he spoke.

Gil’s stomach dropped, and for the first time he noticed a third, metal chair, sitting alone in the middle of the kitchen.  The rear door opened and two men entered, dragging a struggling Malcolm between them.

Malcolm was dwarfed by two men holding tight to one of his arms, propelling him into the kitchen, easily ignoring his attempts at breaking free from their grips.  His upper lip was split, blood already seeping into a cloth gag wedged between his teeth.

Gil began to rise from his seat, his hands curling into tight fists, only to be pushed forcefully back down by a thug who’d been standing behind his chair.  He turned to Santos with a snarl as the other man began to speak once more.

“I was worried that you would actually obey my associate’s instructions to come alone, which would have made this negotiation much more difficult.  But, as we suspected, it seems you couldn’t resist bringing someone along.  And, I have to say, I’m pleased by your choice.  Your young friend here will be quite fun to break.”

The two men shoved Malcolm into the empty chair and began tying his wrists down to its arms while he looked wildly around the room, taking in every detail.  His eyes finally found Gil’s, and though Gil could see his own fear reflected in Malcolm’s, that damned stubborn determination of his was also shining through.  He continued to struggle uselessly, his speech unintelligible from behind the gag. Gil had no doubt that whatever he was saying was more likely to get him into trouble than to help the situation.

Malcolm saw his opportunity when the thugs moved to tie his ankles to the chair and raised his legs in a sharp kick to one of their shoulders, though it accomplished nothing besides earning him a sharp slap across the face.

Gil growled when the man hit Malcolm, but his anger at the slap was nothing compared to the fury that rose in him at what came next.

As soon as they’d finished securing Malcolm to the chair, one of the men stood and punched him square in the jaw, his head jerking to the side with the impact, and Malcolm groaned loudly enough to be heard through his gag.

Gil shot up, fast enough to make it to his feet before strong hands wrapped around his biceps, holding him back from taking out the man who’d struck Malcolm.

“Santos, you bastard!  Call them off!”  

Santos gave a wry chuckle.  “I don’t think I will.  Besides, like I said before, I haven’t told them to do anything.  My hands are clean here.  There’s only one thing that will make them stop… call your lackeys, and have them deliver the items I’ve requested.”

As Santos was speaking, Malcolm’s abuser delivered another blow to his face, followed up by a sharp jab to the stomach that had Malcolm doubling over, gasping for breath, an effort hampered by the gag.  The man fisted a hand in Malcolm’s hair, pulling his head up and forcing Malcolm to sit upright once more while the second thug prepared to strike again.  Malcolm’s eyes widened and he began yelling incoherently once more, struggling against the ropes holding him down.  The thug gave his head a vicious shake and muttered ‘bad boy’ at Malcolm as if he were a dog.

Gil clenched his jaw so hard it hurt. His teeth ground together as he watched, helpless as Malcolm was struck once more, the profiler’s eyes losing focus as his head rocked with the punch.  Malcolm sobbed, a broken, heartbreaking sound and Gil couldn’t take it anymore, feeling tears forming in his own eyes as Malcolm looked at him--something he’d been avoiding so far, and Gil knew he was trying to be strong--despair visible in his wide, frightened eyes.

“Stop, stop!!” Gil cried out, voice cracking, desperate to make the beating end.  “I told you- I told you I can’t just make a call like that.  I don’t have that authority, no one does.  There are going to be questions, it's not as easy as just grabbing evidence and making it disappear!” he said, trying desperately to reason with Santos, and hopefully buy some more time as well.  He hated to think of it, but if Malcolm could endure past the hour mark they’d be okay.

Santos had remained impassive up to that point, watching the beating as he sat slouched in his chair, a predatory gleam in his eyes which brightened whenever Malcolm let loose another ragged groan or drawn out moan.  He was enjoying the younger man’s suffering, that much was clear.  At Gil’s protest he finally turned away from the men in front of him, pursing his lips as he released a disappointed sigh.

“Tut, tut, Lieutenant.  Such a flimsy excuse.  If you’re determined enough, anything is possible.  You’re the boss; tell them what they need to hear to ensure they do what you’re telling them to do.  That’s all there is to it.”  He waved his hand negligently and Malcolm’s abusers turned back to their work.

The gag in Malcolm’s mouth had soaked up the blood from his split lip, and he had a cut on one cheekbone, as well as another just above the opposite eyebrow that was dripping blood into his swollen eye.  He was still leaning forward, his breath a pained wheeze, bent over as much as his captors would allow, though they pulled him upright once more in order to continue their assault.

The thug hit hard and fast, four blows in quick succession before a fifth that was so strong it sent Malcolm toppling backwards in his chair, his back hitting the ground hard and audibly forcing the air from his lungs. Without a moment's hesitation the man delivered a sharp kick to Malcolm's ribs, striking solidly with the tip of his shoe. 

"You fucking piece of shit!" Gil screamed in impotent rage, pulling desperately against the unwavering hold his captors had on his arms, watching as Malcolm's whole body tensed, bowing up from the floor and away from the kick as he moaned, low and long and desperate. After what felt like ages, his chest rose in an attempt to inhale once more.  Suddenly, Malcolm began to twist violently, limbs pulling desperately against his restraints and Gil thought for a heart stopping moment that he was having a seizure.  Then he saw Malcolm's eyes were wide and panicked and that he was shaking his head back and forth furiously. Gil could hear a choking, gurgling noise escaping from around the gag and realized something else was wrong.

"He's choking. Pick him up, please, he's going to suffocate!" Gil yelled, his eyes desperate as he looked towards Santos.  One of the thugs moved to lift the chair but Santos stopped him.

"Wait! Let him choke. Arroyo knows what he has to do to make it stop."

Gil screamed out curses, struggling desperately against his captors, managing to get one arm free, but not for long.  He looked back at Malcolm.

Tears were streaming from the younger man’s eyes as his struggles grew increasingly weaker.

“Fine, fine I’ll do it, I’ll do it just please pick him up, get that gag out of his mouth, please,” Gil begged, sagging in his captors grip, desperate to save Malcolm before it was too late.

Santos nodded and his thugs lifted Malcolm’s chair, one of them cutting the gag while the other freed his hands and feet.  Malcolm fell to the floor, retching and spitting out gobs of blood and spit before finally gasping for air, choking and wheezing, his breaths ragged and broken.  

“Malcolm, Malcolm thank god.  Thank god,” Gil repeated over and over again as he watched Malcolm breath once more.

“Now, Lieutenant Arroyo.  You have a phone call to make.  Once you do, Malcolm goes free.  I’ll even arrange for an ambulance to arrive after we drop him off.  Here’s a list of the items I want, and the address where I want them delivered.  Once I get them, you go free as well.  It's as simple as that.”

Santos handed him a piece of paper and his phone.  “On speaker, if you please,” he said, voicing it as a request though Gil knew he had no choice.  He glanced at the clock--the hour mark had come and gone, which meant that Dani and JT should be preparing to come get them.  He only hoped that contacting them now, with an obviously suspicious request, no matter how well he worded it, wouldn’t stop them from coming.  He dialled JT’s number and took a moment to check on Malcolm as the phone rang, reassuring himself that the kid was still breathing.  He was--laying on the floor on one side, head pillowed on an outstretched arm, eyes closed.  Gil wasn’t sure if he was conscious, but he could see his chest rise and fall, and that was good enough for now.

“Gil, man, there you are.  Everything alright?” JT asked as soon as he answered the phone.

“Yeah, great.  Look I need you to run an errand for me, all right?  I’m going to text you a list of some stuff we picked up at the crime scene, and an address.  I need you to meet me there with the items so I can compare them to this new tip we got,” Gil lied, searching for any sort of explanation that would sound remotely reasonable, to Santos if not to JT.

There was a pregnant pause on the other end, just a bit too long to be natural before JT replied.  “Sure thing, boss.  I’m on it.  Want me to text you when I’m on my way?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.  Thanks JT.  See you soon,” Gil replied before ending the call.

He typed out a message, Santos looking over his shoulder as he did so, ensuring he didn’t sneak any warnings or hints into the text.  Gil could only hope that JT would know better, that his easy capitulation to the request was a sign that he had no intention of doing any such thing and that they’d continue on with the original plan.  And he hoped that, when the cavalry arrived, he and Malcolm wouldn’t be the first casualties.

“There, it’s done.  Now let Malcolm go,” Gil demanded as he hit the send button.

***

Malcolm was familiar with fear. He experienced it regularly, on an almost nightly basis, for most of his life. But the primal terror that overtook his mind as he lay on the floor, choking to death on his own blood and spit was worse than any fear he'd experienced before and robbed him of the ability to think about anything but the basic need to breathe.

He was in pain, had been since they'd thrown the first punch. It had grown exponentially with each strike, starting in his face and spreading till it pounded in his skull and ached in his abdomen with every breath.  But pain was familiar too, he could endure pain.  Then his tormentor reigned down strike after strike in quick succession, rocking his body back against the chair until he struck hard enough to send Malcolm backwards onto the floor.  The impact was a shock, knocking the breath from his body and he only just managed to hold his head up enough to keep it from smacking hard against the tile.  Stars filled his vision as he gazed up at the white ceiling, but he didn’t even have time to process what had happened before one of the men kicked him viciously in the ribs, forcing out whatever breath he’d had left in his lungs.  

For a moment he couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, his body rigid in pain and shock.  Finally he recovered enough to suck in a breath, only to find himself choking, his mouth having filled with blood and spit, the gag, already soaked, preventing him from clearing his throat and airway.

He panicked, mindless terror taking over as he struggled to get free, to get the gag loose, trying to scream for help but only choking more.  No help came, they left him there and he could feel himself weakening, vision darkening, tears streaming down his face as he felt consciousness slip away.

Something shifted, suddenly, and then his mouth was clear of the gag and he was free, falling forward onto the floor and spitting up blood all over tile in front of him and finally, finally breathing.  He heard his name, Gil’s voice and Santos’s and the word free. He nearly sobbed in relief when he realized it was over, unsure of how much more he could take.  He drifted in and out of consciousness,  brief snatches of conversation reaching his ears before pain and exhaustion sent him under, floating in darkness once more.

He heard his name again--since when did Gil call him Malcolm?  He couldn’t focus, coherent thoughts slipping in and out of his mind like water.

“Bring him here,” he heard the man in the chair… Santos?... Order.  

One of the nearby thugs shoved the tip of his shoe into Malcolm’s shoulder, pushing him onto his back before both men lifted him upright with hands hooked under his armpits and half dragged, half carried him across the floor, setting him on his knees in front of Gil and Santos.  Malcolm managed to stay upright, catching himself on one hand when he started to topple over before righting himself, head down, one arm wrapped protectively around his midsection.  Kneeling was hard, requiring far more concentration than it should, but it kept him from slipping back into the darkness once more.

Gil dropped to his knees in front of him, gently cupping his face in one hand to lift his head, pushing back the hair that had fallen with the other, but even those light touches felt like sandpaper against Malcolm’s abused skin and he winced.

“Hey, Bright, you with me?” Gil asked softly, ducking his head down to meet Malcolm’s eyes.

Gil’s face was an unfocused blur and it took Malcolm several moments to focus, blinking rapidly as he struggled to clear the fog that was clouding his mind.

“Hey, Gil.  Having fun yet?” he murmured quietly.

Gil made a choking sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh.  “Thought I told you to stay in the car,” he chided gently.

“I did,” Malcolm protested weakly.  “They made me get out.  They were… waiting… for you to go inside.” he explained, his sentence broken by a wheezing cough as his throat began to burn with the effort of speaking.  He leaned to the side slightly, turning his head to spit out more blood and spit.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Gil said softly.  “I’m sorry I let it go this far.  You’re gonna get out of here though, alright?”

Malcolm nodded weakly, almost smiling till it pulled at the split in his lip, causing him to frown instead, eyes falling closed as he tried to hide his discomfort from Gil.

“This is very touching, but it's time to move things along,” Santos interjected, startling Malcolm who only then realized he’d been watching their interaction the entire time.  Santos had an interest in suffering that was disturbing in its intensity, like he was soaking up every detail--each expression and sound--and storing them for later.  He’d noticed it at the very start of this whole thing when he was still coherent enough to be observant.  Santos had watched Malcolm being beat with an avid pleasure, and Malcolm saw the same look in his eyes now as he studied him and Gil as they knelt before him on the floor.

Malcolm glanced behind Gil as a sudden movement caught his attention, and his eyes grew wide.  It was the only warning he could manage before Gil was grabbed from behind and pulled to his feet, then pushed back down into his chair and held there by strong hands on his shoulders and wrists.

“Santos, what is this?” Gil growled out.  “I gave you what you wanted, now let. Malcolm. Go.”

“I don’t think I’m going to,” Santos replied, stepping over to where Malcolm knelt, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking back, forcing Malcolm’s head back so far that he was pulled off balance, held up only by Santos’ hold.  

Malcolm cried out, reaching up to grab onto Santos’s arm to relieve some of the pressure on his scalp, the effort of holding himself up straining his already aching abdomen, enough to make him pant with the effort.  

“He’s important to you, isn’t he?” Santos continued, giving Gil a sidelong glance.  “He’s not just a colleague or a fellow brother in arms.  Almost like family…. Or… lovers, maybe?  Are you into younger men, Lieutenant?” Santos suggested with a lewd wink and a laugh.

Gil snarled, jaw visibly clenched with rage, but he didn’t answer, only repeated “let him go.”

“And seperate the two of you, when you’re obviously so close?  Now that would be cruel.  No, I think we’ll keep dear Malcolm right here.  Have some more fun with him.  You know, you took someone very close to me when you arrested my brother, so it only seems fair that I do the same.”  

Santos started walking, pulling Malcolm across the floor by his hair. Malcolm cried out in shock and pain, bringing both hands up to grab Santos's wrist and pull himself up to relieve the strain on his scalp, his legs kicking out uselessly as he tried to get his feet under him. 

Gil screamed, angrier than Malcolm had ever seen him before as he fought hard against the men holding him and swore, “Dammit Santos, you said you’d let him go!  We had a deal!”

Santos finally released his grip on Malcolm’s hair, throwing him to the floor in front of the chair once more. He curled into the fetal position, instinctively protecting his head and midsection as best he could from whatever was going to come next.  Santos just laughed as he walked away, somewhere behind him and out of his line of sight.  

“You know, I don’t usually get my hands dirty with this sort of thing,” Santos mused, and Malcolm heard the squeak of a faucet handle and water running as he continued, “I prefer to watch, you see.  But there’s something about you, Malcolm; something special that makes it hard to keep my distance.”

He walked back over to Malcolm and squatted on his haunches in front of him, drying his hands on a towel as he looked Malcolm over, a predatory glint in his eyes that made Malcolm shudder and wrap his arms more tightly around his head when he saw it.  Santos sighed, shoulders slumping in resignation as he rose to his feet once more, dropping the towel and walking back towards his chair by the table as he muttered “not this time.”

Malcolm relaxed slightly, uncurling into a less defensive position as he tried not to think about what Santos could be planning next.  It didn’t work--he realized he could still hear water running, and he felt his heart rate accelerate as dread started to build low in his gut.  He rolled over with a grunt, searching for the source of the sound, eyes falling on a utility sink along the wall.  He looked back at Santos in horror, shaking his head with a whimper as the fresh memories of nearly choking to death came flooding back over him.

Santos’ smile grew wider as he watched the realisation dawning on Malcolm’s face.  He turned to Gil and said, “It was so touching to see your concern for your friend earlier when you thought he might be dying.  I quite enjoyed it, and I think I’d like to see if we can’t recreate that moment once more.”

The thugs from earlier stepped into Malcolm’s view, and he scrambled to escape as they reached for him, twisting away sharply only to receive a sharp kick to his stomach that had him doubling over and retching.  It left him unable to fight and barely able to breathe as they picked him up, dragging him towards the nearly full sink.

“No! No, shit, let me go!” Malcolm gasped out between pained breaths.  He twisted in their arms, getting his feet under him and pushing back, trying whatever he could to break free, but nothing worked.  

He could hear Gil yelling behind him, cursing and pleading in equal parts, even offering himself in Malcolm’s place.  “You said you’d let him go!” he repeated.  “This doesn’t have to go any farther, just let him go!”

Santos held up his hand as Malcolm’s captors positioned him in front of the sink.  They’d twisted his arms back, hands holding tight to his shoulders and elbows as they waited for further instruction.

“Release my brother from custody, and I’ll let you both walk away,” Santos offered Gil.

Gil stilled and Malcolm could see the terror on his face as he gave the only answer he could, voice low and desperate.  “Santos, I can’t do that, I don’t have the authority.”

“I know,” Santos replied with a small smirk.  Then he turned, and nodded to the men holding Malcolm.

One of the men fisted a hand in his hair and forced his head down, while the other held his upper body suspended over the sink and their combined strength was too much for Malcolm to counter.   They easily kept him off-balance and defenseless--not their first rodeo, Malcolm guessed.  

He knew what was coming, and tried to keep the panic at bay.  He sucked in a breath while he still could, telling himself to relax, trying to slow his heart rate as they forced his head underwater.  Just wait, he told himself, you can hold your breath for over a minute, just wait.  

Despite his efforts it only took moments for his survival instincts to kick in.  His back started cramping from the awkward position he was being held in and the strain on his shoulders from having his arms pulled back.  The pain and the feeling of being held down, forced to stay submerged caused the panic to surge because he needed to breathe and he couldn’t.  

He didn’t want to fight, he tried to stay still and calm; he didn’t want Gil to have to witness his panic.  His body jerked once, a purely natural reaction, but he clamped down hard on the impulse to struggle, determined to stay strong.  It didn’t work; the burning in his lungs intensified and instinct took over as rational thought gave way to panic.  He twisted his head, jerking his shoulders, feet scrambling against the floor as he tried to push up but nothing was working and he couldn’t get free and they were trying to kill him like this, not just torture him and it wasn’t ever going to end… Dark spots clouded his vision as he began to lose consciousness.  His panic increased with the realization that passing out meant he’d drown for sure, but his struggles were growing weaker as he started to slip into the darkness.

They pulled him up a second after his body went limp in their grips, the sudden motion enough to wake him up.  He gasped for air, choking on water when he inhaled just a little too soon.  There was a loud roar in his ears and he was too tired to open his eyes.  All he could focus on was breathing--in and out, in and out.  As the roar in his ears dulled, the sounds of Gil’s screaming filtered into his awareness, and Malcolm began to shake as helpless anger filled him for what both he and Gil were being forced to endure.

“Again,” Santos ordered, and Malcolm sobbed, the sound broken and pathetic even to his own ears.

They didn’t hesitate, lifting him and forcing his head underwater once more before he could even react, repeating the same process. He started to struggle immediately but with no effect, and though they pulled him up much sooner than the first time it still felt like an eternity.  

And then they did it again.

Malcolm didn’t remember them pulling him out the third time.  He woke up to sharp stinging pain spreading across his face and realized dully that he’d been slapped.  He was on his knees, held upright by one strong hand still wrapped around his upper arm as his ragged breaths shook his entire frame.  He forced his eyes open, struggling to get his bearings, praying it was over because he couldn’t take anymore.

His vision was blurry, but he could see Gil; his face was a mask of helpless agony. He was no longer screaming, just staring desperately back at Malcolm, slumped in defeat with tears flowing down his cheeks, looking just as broken as Malcolm felt.  

“Again,” Santos ordered, and Malcolm crumbled.

“No-o,” he moaned.  “Please no more, please,” he whispered over and over again as they pulled him up again.

Suddenly, the lights went out, plunging them into an immediate darkness as complete silence fell over the room.  The men holding Malcolm dropped him as they reached for the guns on their hips, but they were too slow.  Bright pinpoints of light suddenly filled the room as the doors burst open, breaking through the silence as a dozen cops moved into the room from both sides, yelling at Santos and his men to ‘drop it’ and ‘get down.’  One of the men standing over Malcolm reached for him, pulling his gun, ready to use Malcolm as his human shield.  He was shot dead as soon as his weapon cleared its holster.

It only took moments and happened too fast for Malcolm to comprehend in his broken state, he simply lay on the floor, drawing one arm up to shield his head in an attempt to shield himself from the confusion.  

He felt hands on his face and flinched away, crying out and swatting them away weakly.

“Malcolm, it’s okay, it’s me, it’s Gil,” he heard, and finally realized that Gil had made it to his side despite the chaos filling the room.  He was crouched next to him, warm fingers pressed against the pulse point in his neck while he brushed sodden hair back from Malcolm’s face.  “Hang in there, kid, alright?  You’re safe now.  I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he soothed, repeating the words over and over.  

Malcolm frowned in confusion, eyes glancing wildly around the room as his sluggish brain tried to catch up with reality.  “Wha-?”

Gil shushed him, sitting next to him and lifting Malcolm’s head gently into his lap as he continued to reassure him that everything was okay.  Someone approached them and began to speak quietly to Gil.  It took Malcolm a moment to recognize Dani’s soft voice, filled with concern as she knelt down next to them.  “Ambulance is 5 minutes out, Bright.  Just hang in there, okay?” she urged.

Malcolm nodded, eyes slipping closed.  He felt himself drifting off once more but he didn’t have the energy to fight it, secure in the knowledge that he was safe--their team had come for them, and Gil was watching over him, and that was enough.

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever - Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Peter Parker x venom!reader

Warnings: mentions of self harm

Masterlist

Once you stepped off the elevator, you kept your eyes glued to the floor in case Peter took the stairs to meet you in the lobby. You looked up smacking into the back of some guy.

“Sorry.” You muttered.

“It’s all good.” He answered. You knew that voice. He turned around and your face lit up.

“Andy!” You exclaimed. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he pulled you into a tight hug. You lifted your legs off the floor and squeezed him as hard as you could. You needed a hug.

“Hello Miss New York City reporter. How’s the article coming?” Andy asked when he set you down.

“Forget my article, what are you doing here?” You asked him. You would’ve remembered him telling you he was going to visit.

“Well you’ve been so busy lately that we barely talk. I figured I’d come down and surprise you.” Andy said.

“Really? That’s so nice of you.” You gushed. You squeezed his arm gently and he gave you a fin smile. It was weird. It didn’t affect you like it used to. A gesture like this from Andy would usually keep you up for weeks wondering if it meant he wanted to get back together. He could usually pull you in with the slightest hint of wanting you back. This time, you didn’t feel the pull.

“You alright? Your eyes are glassy.” Andy asked after a few more moments of staring.

“Yeah. Just a fight with the boyfriend. You know how it is.” You shrugged and wiped your eyes with the backs of your hands. You had briefly forgotten about Peter.

“Boyfriend?” Andy asked. He put his hands in his pockets and looked down at his feet. “I didn’t realize you had a boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend actually. We just broke up.” You blurted. Why would you tell him that? Yea you were mad at Peter, but you weren’t going to be mad forever.

“Oh really?” Andy perked up. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“You know, I really would. Come on. I’ll show you my apartment.” You said as you nodded towards the elevators. Andy followed you and you made small talk on the way up.

You thankfully didn’t see Peter in the hallway and led Andy inside. Little did you know, Peter was out on patrol, looking for you.

“So what brings you to New York?” You asked. Surely he had other reasons than just visiting you.

“You know. I’ve missed it here. I missed the city, the shops, and you know…you.” Andy said sheepishly. You felt your heart glow a little at his words. He missed you. And embarrassingly enough, you hadn’t really missed him. Not since Peter started taking up all your time. You smiled shyly at him.

“I missed you to.” You said.

“No we didn’t.” Venom said telepathically. You shushed her and kept your eyes on Andy.

“So, have you finished up shop here? Can I expect you back in San Francisco soon?” Andy asked as he looked around your apartment. He noticed a lot of framed pictures of you and a certain brown eyed boy.

“Just about. I had my final interview today. But I’m not sure if I’m ready to head back just yet. I kinda like it here. I’ve set down roots.” You told him. By roots, you meant Peter. You were irrevocably in love with Peter Parker and you wanted to stay in New York to be with him, forever if you could. The longer Andy stayed, the more you wished to talk to Peter and fix things. Why did you always have to ruin things when they were good?

“Are you gonna come back for the wedding?” Andy asked, dragging his finger over a picture of you kissing Peters cheek at his graduation. You heard a hint of sadness in his voice.

“When is it again?” You asked. All plans about the wedding completely slipped your mind. It was funny, this conversation felt so foreign to you. Andy, San Francisco, the wedding. It wasn’t your life anymore. This was. Peter was.

“August 10th.” Andy reminded.

“Shoot. That’s Peters birthday.” You said apologetically.

“Is Peter the one you just broke up with?” Andy almost scoffed.

“Yea, but like, not forever. I still love him.” You said quietly. It felt weird talking about this with someone who was nearly your husband.

“Who is Peter anyway?” Andy asked abruptly, folding his arms in disdain.

“Peter is the best.” You gushed, picking up a photo of you and him lying on his bed and blowing some dust off the top. “He’s my neighbor across the hall. I don’t know. We just fell all the way in love. It was crazy. It was like I heard wedding bells every time he looked at me. He really understood me and I really understood him. And he makes me want to be a better me. He challenges me, but not in a pushy way, you know?”

“I know.” Andy said quietly.

“Yea. He keeps me on my knees.” You said. Your face turned a deep red. “I mean toes. He keeps me on my toes.” You corrected yourself. Andy’s jaw tightened.

“Sounds nice.” Andy said through gritted teeth. He was seething with jealousy.

“It is nice.” You agreed. “Or, it was. I need to talk to him and fix things. I love that boy with everything.” You said, mostly to yourself. Andy still heard it.

“What about me? Do you still love me?” Andy came up to you suddenly and put one hand on your cheek and the other on your hip. You were surprised by his question, and even more surprised by his actions. You gulped nervously and felt uneasy for the second time that day.

“I had to stop loving you the moment you took back my engagement ring and walked out the door.” You stated, almost angrily.

“You’re still upset about that? Come on, Y/n, that was a million years ago.” He whispered, brushing hair away from your forehead. You stubbornly reached up and pushed the hair back in place.

“Yea. I am.” You said, feeling slightly annoyed. “We were going to get married and then we didn’t speak for six months. So yea, I’m still upset.”

“Why?” He asked idiotically.

“Why?” You laughed awkwardly. You took a step back from him. Was he serious?

“Yea, why?” He shrugged.

“I’m upset because I needed you. I needed you and you weren’t there. And while I was swallowing bottles of pills and crying myself to sleep, you were off with some other girl, giving her the same ring you gave me.” You yelled. This time, you didn’t feel tears coming to your eyes. You only felt pure rage as all the things you wanted to say to Andy for the past year came tumbling out.

“I proposed to her because I loved her. I loved you too.” He defended, getting angry himself.

“You have to stop proposing to people!” You half laughed. “You proposed to me the second I graduated high school and you proposed to Dani less than a year after we broke up. Who does that? Does marriage mean anything to you?” You screamed.

“Yes.” He stated. You were in a full screaming match now.

“Does it? Because I don’t think it does. Have you ever read wedding vows, Andy? They promise lifelong commitment to one person. One. In sickness and in health, in good times and in bad. Well we went through a bad time. But were you committed to me? No.” You laughed sadly. “You left. You left the moment things got hard. What if we were already married when I cost you your job? Would you have divorced me? Or would you have been a man and realized that your relationship took precedent to your job? You lost me and your job on the same day and I swear, losing the job hurt you more.” You were in tears now. Not sad ones. Tears of liberation. “But what about me? I lost my job too! And you, all at once. But I didn’t give that job a second thought. But you, I spent over a year mourning you. Trying to replace you and get you out of my head. Trying to pick up the pieces you dropped. And you know what? I did it. I didn’t replace you though. I found someone better. I found Peter. And Peter doesn’t walk away when things get difficult. You know what Peter does? He runs towards them. And he makes sure the people around him are safe and protected. You didn’t protect me from anything Andy. You broke me when you left me. You took an already broken person and broke them even more. I was nothing but dust, and you didn’t even care.” Your voice cracked at the end.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal. What was I supposed to do? You cost me my job so it cost you our relationship. I’m trying to fix that now. Isn’t that enough?” He yelled back. He took a step closer to you with every word. You could see beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Not that big of a deal? Andy, I tried to kill myself! I lost you, my job, my home, my career, everything! I had nothing and you knew that. You knew that!” You shouted desperately. “I was already such a broken person. You have to be patient with people like me. But you weren’t. You just took everything and left. You can’t fix anything. I already fixed myself. So no, it’s not enough. You are not enough for me. You need to leave.” You stated, pointing towards the door.

“Y/n, baby, hear me out.” Andy said. He swiftly pulled you into a kiss. You pushed him off and wiped your mouth in the back of your hand.

“You can’t do that. You cannot just kiss me whenever you want. And what about Dani?” You scolded him. Your heart broke for her. She didn’t deserve such an unfaithful man. He looked at you with sad eyes.

“You moving to New York made me realize how much I needed to see you everyday. I broke up with Dani when I realized I couldn’t live without you. It’s you that I want Y/n, not her. It’s always been you. You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything when we kissed. Just try again and you’ll see.”

He tried to pull you into for another kiss but Venom came out and snapped at him like a dog, coming dangerously close to his face with her razor sharp teeth. Andy backed away immediately. Venom slinked back towards you and rested on your shoulder, staring Andy down.

“Back up.” Venom growled. Andy obeyed.

“You can’t just kiss me and think everything will be okay. This isn’t some romance movie. This is real life. I’m not going to be the girl who mopes around until the boy who broke her heart comes running back with flowers and a ring. I’m going to be the girl that picks herself back up and kicks his ass out the door. You need to leave. I mean it.” You pointed to the door again. Your hand was perfectly still. You had stood your ground and it felt good. Andy nodded solemnly and walked to your door.

“I’m sorry. If it’s worth anything at all, I’m sorry.” He said honestly, giving you one last look.

As soon as Andy opened the door, Peter knocked him out with one punch. You gasped in shock as Andy fell to the floor. You didn’t even realize Peter was in the hallway. You and Peter looked at Andy’s unconscious body and then up at each other. Without saying a word, you rushed towards each other and pulled each other into a passionate kiss.

“I heard every word. I’m so sorry that I doubted you. I love you and I just want to keep you safe.” Peter said against your lips.

“I love you too. I’m sorry I keep running away when things get hard. I promise, I’ll never run again. You have my word. I’m yours, Peter Parker. Until the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll away.” You said. Peters eyes lit up in joy as he kissed you again.

Only, that didn’t happen. None of it happened. No matter how much you wanted it to. Andy opened the door and then left. You watched as he shut the door. You didn’t cry when he eft. No, you smiled. A big happy smile. Damn it felt good to be a bad ass bitch.

“Thanks babe. You really had my back. I love you.” You said to Venom once the door shut.

“I love you too but you’re a hypocrite.” Venom said back. You looked at her in confusion.

“What? No I’m not.” You defended.

“You told Andy that he just walked away when things got hard. Is that not what you did to Peter? Twice?” Venom asked. You felt embarrassed at your double standards.

“This is different.” You muttered.

“You’re right. It is different. The difference is you loved Andy but you’re in love with Peter. You have to fight for the people you love. You can’t just walk away.” Venom said, suddenly in a calming and understanding tone. You felt tears welling up in your eyes.

“Why not? It’s easier. Everyone I had to fight for, I lost the battle.” You said weakly. Tears ran down your cheeks in fast streams.

“That was before you met us. And we won’t let you lose again.” Venom said and nuzzled into your cheek. You wiped your tears and nuzzled her back. You two were quiet for a moment as she silently comforted you.

“Now go talk to him or we’ll eat your kidney.” Venom said suddenly. You felt your heart stop.

“You wouldn’t.” You said, daringly. You were a little scared she actually would.

You felt a sharp pain in your side that knocked you to your knees. You clutched your stomach as you doubled over in pain.

“Did you just eat my kidney?!” You screamed.

“We like to follow through.” Venom said simply.

“Venom!” You exclaimed.

“We’re kidding. We just bit it. Relax. But we will do it for real if you don’t talk to Peter.” Venom argued.

“So I have to talk to Peter or you’ll eat my kidney? Does that sound like a fair ultimatum?” You sassed.

“Yes. It sounds very fair to us.” Venom replied.

“But Peter didn’t believe in us.” You grumbled. Even you thought it sounded dumb at that point.

“Peter does believe in us. But he wants to keep us safe more than anything else. Do you know why that is?” Venom asked in a way that meant she already knew the answer.

“Why?” You asked coyly.

“Because his dumb ass loves your dumb ass. Not matter how many times you push him away, he will come back. Remember how we mate for life? I think he does too. And it’s us, Y/n. He wants to spend his life with us.” Venom answered. You knew she was right.

“Why would he want that? I don’t want to spend our life with me.” You scoffed.

“Might I imbue you with some alien knowledge?” Venom asked.

“Please do.” You said sarcastically.

“We love your dumb ass too. And we want to keep you safe just as much as Peter does. He had good intentions, Y/n. And we thrive off killing men with bad intentions. And if you apply that to PEMDAS, you can conceivably see that we belong with Peter.” Venom stated. You let out a short laugh. She was making sense…kind of.

“Fine. I’ll talk to Peter. Just, don’t eat my kidney okay?”

Meanwhile, Peter had stepped into an elevator with a man who looked incredible familiar. The man looked visible upset and distraught. He was about to get off the elevator when he noticed Peters face. Peter awkwardly stepped forward and pressed the key for the fourth floor. The man noticed it and smirked.

“You going to Y/n’s?” The man asked with a wicked look in his eyes. Peter looked at the man in astonishment.

“Yeah. Actually. How’d you know?” Peter asked the stranger. The man looked like he had an idea brewing behind his dark brown eyes.

“I just got back from there. You’re Peter right?” The man asked. Peter was shocked again. He was almost positive he had never met the man.

“Yea. I am.” Peter said wearily. How did this guy know you?

“I’m Andy. Y/n’s ex-fiancée.” Andy replied with a cocky smirk as he dropped the bomb on Peter. Peters heart fell. Why was he at Y/n’s apartment? Why was he in New York at all?

“Oh you’re Andy? The guy that broke Y/n’s heart and nearly drove her to suicide?” Peter asked in an innocent tone. He knew what he was doing and Andy seemed to sense it.

“Yea. That’s me.” Andy muttered, no longer feeling cocky. Peter smirked as they rode in silence for a moment.

“What brings you to New York? Y/n told me you moved to San Francisco.” Peter said, desperately wanting to know why Andy was anywhere near you. Peter knew you had forgiven Andy and befriended him, but that didn’t stop him from holding a vendetta against the guy. He broke your heart and he didn’t deserve to ever be in your presence.

“I came to visit her. She’s coming back to San Francisco soon but I missed her too much to wait.” Andy said, attempting to psych Peter out again. They both wanted you and didn’t want the other to have you.

“Right. For the wedding.” Peter said sharply.

“Oh, the weddings off. I actually came here to win Y/n back. And it went pretty well if I do say so myself. But she’s still coming back to San Francisco. Just not for the wedding. She’s moving back to be with me.” Andy lied. Peters heart completely stopped this time. His blood boiled in his body and he looked at Andy with a deadly glare, only just noticing the lipstick, your lipstick, on his lips. So it was true. He had kissed you and now you were moving back to San Francisco, thousands of miles away. Peter felt like there was no air left in the world. He couldn’t see straight at the thought of another man kissing, touching, loving his girl. Andy smirked at Peters reaction. Before Peter could say anything, the elevator doors opened. Peter got out and looked back at Andy with sad eyes. Andy gave him a wicked wave as the doors closed.

Peter slowly turned and walked back to his apartment. He looked at your door and felt tempted to knock. Even though you were the cause of his sadness, you were also the only one he wanted to comfort him. Peter decided against it and went inside.

At midnight, you swung to the top of the Oscorp building and landed in a crouched position. You wore your suit and tied your hair in a loose ponytail. You felt a mixture of nerves and excitement in your stomach. This wouldn’t be your first fight, but it would be your biggest. And the stakes were higher than your battle with Carlton Drake. You scanned the skyline but didn’t see Carnage anywhere.

You suddenly heard the sound of something slamming down on the pavement behind you.

“Venom! Are you ready to dance?” Carnage growled. You bared your teeth and took out your claws.

“Let’s do this, bitch.” You growled.

Tag List 🏷

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[kittenshift-17]

Your earlier Arya reblogs earlier just reminded me of how much I am obsessed w your Gendrya works. The way you write them (and everything else really) is just *chef's kiss*

Thanks, I was actually reading those posts and thinking those bad boys (Gendrya fics) need some revisions and that my newer (unpublihsed) stuff featuring Arya needs some edits because the show Arya vs the book Arya are vastly different people, and I confess that while I adore Maisie to death (seriously, even her name is freakin adorable) the extroverted, bubbly, friendly, blurt-out-everything-that-pops-into-her-head, half a boy/half a wolf cub version of the girl is the one I fell for. 

I’ma do me a re-read of the novels (maybe just her parts and those of Ned, the Hound, Sansa, and the others I like alot, and revise my way of writing her a little. I want that girl back, even if the badass assassin is fun.

Like, imagine this stone cold assassin, but who’s super bubbly and will just walk up to anyone and ask them uuncomfortable questions or offer to be their friend, but like, she can kill you with her eyes closed and she won’t even flinch. Like, this is a girl you want as your friend. She’s totes a Hufflepuff, if you ask me. Loyal. Just. Hard working. Willing to fight to the death for those she loves.

All that said, the point of the List thorughout the series is supposed to be the list of people Arya plans to kill, but you think about it, everyone is on it because they were a dick, right? Like Joff’s a twat, lies, get Lady and Micah killed, and then call for Ned’s head instead of granting mercy, and so he goes on the list. Cersei has Ned arrested, Sansa imprisoned, and Arya hunted, along witht Roberts bastards being hunted, so on the list she goes. The Hound goes on the list for killing Micah and blindly obeying the crown when he has the skills and power to stand up for what’s right, but doesn’t. Meryn Trant for killing Syrio. Polliver and the Mountain for torturing peopel at Harrenhal. Melisandre, Thoros, and Beric Dondarrion for trading Gendry for gold. Walder Frey for the Red Wedding, etc.

Like, this tiny child is foisted into a lifetime of fear and death and murder all because people were dicks to the ones she cares about and she festers this hatred for them, but she’s still a good person, at her core. Like, she only wants to hurt the ones who hurt her, or who hurt her family. She doesn’t enjoy killing for the sake of killing and she doesn’t like causing pain. She yells at the Hound for stealing, and for abusing people, and generally is always on the lookout to add people to her “pack” even if they’re not her blood. 

And I’m getting off track and waxing poetic about Arya Stark, but goddamn it, she’s one of the most complex female characters I’ve run across in a long time and D&D did her a disservice by turning her into some automonton ice-killer with no feelings.Sansa has her moments, and Dany’s got her own complexities that boggle the mind and all three of them got screwed over by D&D, but Arya was supposed to be more that what they made her, and yeah, okay, in the novels she’s still in Braavos training to be Facelss because George is actually the slowest writer on the planet and gets way too off topic (and I say this as... you know... me. Look at me go, lobbing boulders from this glass house of mine), but I do think that the whole point of the list, and the revisiting of the “pack survives” train of thought and Arya’s continued bubbliness in the books despite everything is a way better portrayal of her and I’m really looking forward to seeing where he takes it, so the man better not die before we get our end, or goddamn it, I will dedicate my life to fanfic that gives her a damn ending that makes me happy (who am I kidding, I’m gonna do that anyway), but the point is I love her and she’s my favourite, and... and...

I just have a lot of feelings about this, okay. 

[ammapreker]

• • •   content warnings for death, murder (stabbing), hazing, stalking, brief mention of an eating disorder (in the emily’s description)

[ cheer request ]

• • •   inspired by dare me

b a c k s t o r y ,

• • •   when the new cheer coach (the colette) arrives freshly accused of murder on the local podcast, this team of collegiate athletes finds that they all have something to prove — to themselves and to their new coach who seems intent on burning down the structure that they’ve known for years. the beth had been top girl since her admission onto the squad, power radiating from her the moment she’d stepped onto the mat. along with her trusted lieutenants, she ruled on high, targeting the weakest links and newcomers with hazing rituals long held dear. under her tyranny, all seemed well — until the colette knocked her off her pedestal and put her half-sister, the tacy, on top. • • •   in the aftermath, the beth grew obsessive, insisting to the eight top members of the squad that they all take up housing in seven devils — where many of the girls have families in the town right beside hastings college — to better spy on their new tyrant, the supposed murderer. • • •   four months later, the beth is found mysteriously killed. • • •   after their last game of the season, the girls headed to the lake to celebrate, suppressing the growing tensions between them all. hours into the event and the beth gathered them round, her yells echoing and prying everyone from their spots to her side. she threatened them, telling them that she planned to leak it all — photos and videos of their hazing, the truth behind all the lies. loyalty is earned, she told them, and all you bitches are unworthy. some amongst them took this to mean that their devotion to the colette had led her to this decision; others, having stolen moments with the beth earlier in the night, knew better. • • •   the rampage that follows leaves violence slipping through their fingertips. it’s addictive, almost a relief for the wrath and terror to unravel in the face of their friend, their tormentor, their queen. palms push against flesh as nails summon blood to the surface. the scarlet decimates whatever sense they’ve retained and releases the inner demons crawling inside of them. this moment becomes something they’re incapable of stopping. • • •   there’s something dangerous about the boredom of teenage girls. • • •   a knife they’d been using to pop open bottles winds up in the emily’s hands and she shoves it into the beth. after a moment of stunned silence, the beth runs off into the woods. the addy and the riri follow and find her leaning against a tree trunk. noting the shallow breaths from the body, the addy tells the riri to go and clean up the scene and says she’ll do the same here. the riri obeys; the addy stays and watches the beth slowly die. afterwards, they call the colette — if anyone knows how to clean up a crime scene, it’s coach.

r e q u i r e m e n t s ,

as far as requirements go, all the girls should be enrolled in hastings college (in the town of elmwood right next door to seven devils) and be part of the cheerleading squad. the age ranges are fairly set in stone, just because i feel that they make the most sense with the hierarchy. face claims are completely open, though i would prefer that the faces portraying the addy and the riri be women of color. cheerleaders outside of this are also more than welcome, but they will have absolutely no knowledge of the events behind the beth’s death. if you have any additional questions, please feel free to reply or dm me @ megan#1831! all the roles are under the cut because this got too long Oops. 

p l a y e r s ,

sophia carlisle & 26 & the colette & simay barlas & written by adele the new cheer coach who arrived at the beginning of the fall semester, just after she’d been accused of committing a murder on a popular local podcast. found all the girls except the beth mirroring her (and enjoyed it) and took a special interest in the addy. was called after the murder and helped the girls clean up the crime scene. julia riley & 22 & the beth & deceased the former top girl of the hastings cheer squad, the beth could bring her girls together as easily as she could tear them apart. she was in love with the addy and her antagonism with the coach stems from the colette taking away the parts of herself she valued most: her position and her lieutenant. her destructive behavior in the aftermath of losing control can be explained by one simple fact: she never suffers alone. perhaps she is now. first last & 21-22 & the addy & face claim & open the lieutenant, supposedly loyal to the beth but secretly wanted to be on top; the two had a codependent relationship that turned dark whenever the addy’s gaze fell elsewhere. obsessed with the colette, which ignited an argument between her and the beth earlier in the night. keeping the fact that the beth was still alive a secret, but suspects the riri might know. first last & 21-22 & the riri & face claim & reserved for che the third who knows infinitely more than she lets on. replaced the addy as the beth’s party friend whenever she and the beth were on the outs. became the addy’s lieutenant in the aftermath. superstitious, believes the beth’s ghost might be haunting them. amity bell & 21 & the emily & lily-rose depp & written by megan the fourth lieutenant. developed an eating disorder after the colette became coach after the beth’s vocal comments at practice. a “fixer” who was delirious when she pushed the knife into the beth’s stomach. spent the night muttering “i fixed it” under her breath. fractured in the aftermath. first last & 18-21 & the tacy & face claim & reserved for aria the beth’s half-sister who the colette put as top girl to dethrone the beth. hated her sister and made the whole team aware of it. lost her spot as top girl after an injury that the beth encouraged. first last & age & the mindy & face claim & reserved for katie codependent with the cori. one of the killer bases on the squad. the supposed voice of reason. spends her days rationalizing what happened to the rest of the squad so that no one wigs out and spills. spends her nights too terrified to sleep. first last & age & the cori & face claim & reserved for devon codependent with the mindy. one of the killer bases on the squad. the quieter of the two, and far more wrathful. speaks a little too loudly about how the beth “deserved what she got” for anyone’s comfort. first last & age & original (1) & face claim & open original (1) stalked the beth since orientation. joined the team to get closer to the beth and was always jealous of her relationship with the addy. the beth discovered the truth about her just before the beth announced that all their secrets would be revealed. put the knife in the emily’s hand. talia bloom & 19 & original (2) & kristine froseth & written by dani the beth and the addy used to torment original (2) relentlessly. original (2) orchestrated the worst of the hazing, including an incident where a swim in the lake in midwinter resulted in one of the girls getting hypothermia. her family money hushed it up, but the video on the beth’s phone would have started it all up again. started the violence against the beth.