#i saw this forever ago and never realized it was mob

[hoe4hotchner]

Unpaid Balance

Pairing: Debt collector!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Words: 5k

Warnings: 18+, dark nature, the mob, Spencer is evil in a weirdly sexual way, hair yanking, maybe it counts a little as waterboarding reader's head is submerged in water for a second or two, fingering, kissing? Dom/sub dynamic, Sex is there but not described that well, Teasing, Hunter x prey dynamic, fear, fainting.

I think that's it but let me know if I missed something.

A/N: I'M BACK BITCHES!!!! I made myself so feral writing this, what the fuck. Also, Rossi makes an apperance :)

"You can't hide from me forever! There's nowhere to run." His voice echoed through the nearly empty warehouse, a chilling reminder of the footsteps that drew closer with every passing second. You regretted sneaking in here, realizing too late that hiding from him was the worst decision you could have made. His taunting voice carried a sinister edge, and you could almost picture the smirk tugging at his lips. All of this because you answered your phone this morning. You kicked yourself mentally for being so stupid, you knew better, but now wasn’t the time for that. You needed to find a way out of here.

It all started this morning. You knew time was running out. The stack of letters piling up in the mail painted a grim picture, one you desperately wished you could escape. The bank had sold your debt weeks ago to the most notorious collectors in the city, and how you'd managed to stay off their radar for this long was a mystery. But the moment your phone rang, dread settled in your stomach—you knew you’d messed up royally when you mindlessly answered the call.

"Ah, Miss (L/N), I'm glad to reach you finally." His voice was smooth, almost soothing, the kind of voice you could listen to for hours if the circumstances differed. But this wasn't a podcast, and Spencer Reid was far from a comforting presence. There was an unsettling familiarity in his tone, despite never having met him before. You knew exactly who he was and that was the problem.

"Well, If that's how you'd like to play-" You quickly cut off the call, knowing fully well that you were in deep trouble now. If only the bank had sold your files to anyone else, you would've been able to survive, but this was truly the worst outcome you could think of. Not even five minutes passed by before the buzzer rang. Panic surged through you, your heart racing faster than you thought possible. You felt sick, your vision blurring as his words echoed in your mind. It had to be him at the door.

With no time to waste, you bolted for the fire escape, scrambling down and out onto the street. You ran, pushing yourself to move faster, not daring to look back. But curiosity got the better of you. You glanced over your shoulder and there he was—Spencer, standing calmly at the end of the street, hands in his pockets, his black suit making him look even more imposing. He was too calm, given your desperate flight. He gave you a slight nod before getting into his car as if this were all just a game to him. Panic surged again, and you kept running, taking the first turn you saw, desperately trying to shake him off your tail.

Somehow the streets seemed empty, almost too empty, something was wrong and you knew it. Your steps echoed through the streets as you made your way further and further away from him, or so you hoped. Despite the sun brightly lighting up the sky, each step you took seemed to guide you further and further into darkness.

The sound of a car door slamming yanked your attention, and you knew instantly that Spencer was close. His disapproving tutting echoed down the street, a harsh reminder of your failed escape. Spinning around, you spotted his towering shadow cast ominously against the building at the next street corner. Without a second thought, you darted back the way you came, barely dodging an oncoming car. There was no time to heed the rules of the road—stopping could mean getting caught, and you weren't about to lose everything without a fight. Determination surged through you as you sprinted down the street, your heart pounding with every step.

Somehow, you found yourself in a narrow alley with no way out except to retrace your steps. Just when you thought you were done for, the sound of footsteps drew closer again. As if answering a desperate prayer, you spotted a tiny opening in the wall, partially obscured by wooden planks. It looked like a tight squeeze, but it was your only chance. You dashed toward the gap and threw yourself behind a dumpster, clawing your way through the narrow space. The rough edges of the broken planks scratched at your arms, sending stinging pain through your skin. You gave yourself a quick once-over, checking for any serious injuries, before realizing that you’d only traded one danger for another. You had squeezed into one of the abandoned warehouses near the docks, and now you were even more trapped.

You were far from home, no familiarity whatsoever in these corners of the city. The silence was loud, dripping water splattering onto the floor filled your ears as you scanned through the building to find a hiding spot. He couldn't be far away. You had a hunch that Spencer knew this city better than you, wondering just how many people had been in your situation before. How many people have experienced the sheer amount of fear that his voice shocked your system with?

Despite being nearly empty, there were still a few scattered remnants of activity: old wooden crates piled in one corner, a rusted metal shelving unit leaning precariously against a wall, and a cluster of large, dusty tarps draped over what looked like abandoned machinery.

Behind the crates, there was just enough space to squeeze into a narrow gap, shielded from view by the stacked boxes. The shelves, though unstable, provided a potential hiding spot if you were careful not to make a sound—one wrong move, and the whole thing could come crashing down over you. The tarps were the most tempting option, covering enough ground to allow you to slip beneath them and blend into the shadows they cast, but they blocked your vision. Each hiding spot had its risks, but they were your best chance to stay hidden in this desolate place.

You decided on the crates, quickly squeezing into the narrow gap behind them. The smell of dust and old wood filled your nostrils as you settled into the shadows, your heart pounding in your chest. You could just barely see through the slats in the crates, giving you a limited view of the warehouse floor.

Moments later, a figure appeared in the dim light of what must've been the main entrance to the building. He strolled in with a casual confidence that sent a chill down your spine, his silhouette tall and imposing. As he moved further into the warehouse, he began to whistle—a slow, haunting melody that echoed off the walls. The sound was unnervingly cheerful, completely at odds with the tension that crackled in the air.

"You can't hide from me forever! There's nowhere to run." His voice echoed through the nearly empty warehouse, a chilling reminder of the footsteps that drew closer with every passing second.

You held your breath, trying to stay as still as possible, peering through the slats to keep an eye on him. The melody continued like a twisted lullaby, it made your skin crawl. Spencer’s head swiveled slightly as if he was listening for any hint of movement, his pace unhurried as he drew closer to the crates.

Every instinct screamed at you to stay hidden, to remain perfectly still, but the fear gnawing at you was almost unbearable. Spencer’s whistling filled the empty space, making the warehouse seem even more desolate, even more inescapable.

Your muscles ached from staying so still, but you forced yourself to remain motionless, watching Spencer’s every move through the slats in the crates. His whistling continued, the eerie melody twisting in your mind. You tried to control your breathing, to keep it slow and quiet, but fear had a way of making even the smallest actions feel impossible.

Just as you shifted slightly to ease the tension in your legs, your foot brushed against a loose piece of wood. The small creak it made seemed deafening in the silence, and your heart skipped a beat as Spencer’s whistling abruptly stopped. The sudden quiet was more terrifying than the sound itself.

Spencer paused mid-step, his head tilting slightly as if he’d heard something. You could see his eyes narrowing, his focus sharp as he scanned the warehouse. You held your breath, praying he would dismiss the noise as just the old building settling. But instead, he started moving again, slower this time, his eyes sweeping the area around the crates.

Then, just as you thought he might pass by, Spencer suddenly changed direction, heading toward a spot where you couldn’t see him through the slats. Panic surged through you—if you couldn’t see him, you couldn’t anticipate his next move. You strained to hear, but the warehouse was filled with overpowering silence, your heartbeat thudding loudly in your ears.

You remained frozen, every nerve on edge, until suddenly you felt a hand seize a fistful of your hair. Pain shot through your scalp as your head was yanked back, forcing you to look up. There he was, his face inches from yours, his eyes dark and filled with a twisted amusement. The smirk you had dreaded seeing was there, curling at the corner of his lips as he stared down at you, triumphant.

“Found you,” he whispered, his voice low and menacing, sending a fresh wave of terror through your body.

Your breath hitched in your throat, panic flooding your senses, overwhelming every rational thought. The room began to spin, the edges of your vision blurring as the reality of your situation closed in on you. Spencer’s grip tightened, his smirk deepening as he watched the fear consume you.

Your heart pounded erratically, each beat growing fainter as a cold sweat broke out across your skin. The world around you faded, the warehouse and Spencer’s terrifying presence becoming distant, shadowy shapes. You could hear his voice, low and mocking, but it sounded far away as if submerged underwater.

Then, all at once, the fear became too much. Your body couldn’t take it anymore. Darkness crept in from the edges of your vision, and before you could register what was happening, your eyes rolled back, and everything went black.

“Guess it’s time for you to meet the boss,” he murmured, his words laced with cruel amusement as you started slipping. The last thing you felt was the cold, unforgiving floor as your body slumped forward, unconscious, completely at the mercy of the man who had hunted you down.

You were jolted awake by the sudden, shocking cold of your head being plunged into a bucket of water. Panic surged through you as you flailed, gasping for air when you were finally pulled out, only to be hoisted off the floor by two large men. Your body was weak, limbs heavy from fear and exhaustion, as they dragged you across the room. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear your vision, but the disorientation lingered.

When your eyes finally focused, you found yourself in a dimly lit office. The centerpiece of the room was a massive wooden desk, polished to a dark sheen. Behind it sat Rossi, the mob boss, lounging in a big leather chair that looked close to a throne. He was idly playing with the rings on his fingers, twisting them around as if deep in thought, though his cold eyes were fixed on you. His presence was commanding, exuding power with every casual movement. He leaned back, observing you with cold, calculating eyes.

Spencer was there too, standing behind the desk, his eyes not on Rossi but on you. He seemed relaxed, casually admiring the various knick-knacks that decorated the shelves behind the boss. But something was unsettling in the way his gaze kept drifting back to you, lingering a little too long. His dark eyes were filled with a growing hunger, a lust that made your skin crawl. As he licked his lips, you could feel his desire radiating off him in waves, and it made your stomach turn.

Rossi’s voice cut through the tension in the room, smooth and authoritative. He spoke about the debt you owed, laying out macabre options for repayment, each more horrifying than the last. His tone was casual, almost bored as if he were discussing mundane business rather than your fate. But despite his nonchalant demeanor, Rossi was not one to miss anything. He noticed the way Spencer's gaze was fixed on you, the way his lips curled in anticipation.

Without breaking his stride, Rossi’s sharp eyes flicked to the two henchmen holding you. “Take her away,” he ordered, his voice calm but commanding. “Lock her up in the back room.”

The henchmen didn’t hesitate, dragging you out of the office and down a dark corridor. Fear absorbed you as you realized what was coming next. As they pulled you further away, the last thing you heard was Rossi’s voice, low and authoritative, addressing Spencer.

“She’s all yours, boy.”

The words echoed in your mind as the door slammed shut behind you, leaving you alone in the cold, dimly lit room, with only the sound of your rough breathing to keep you company.

What felt like hours had passed since you were thrown into the dim, cold room. The only light came from a small, grimy window high up on the wall, barely large enough to squeeze through. Desperation gnawed at you as the reality of your situation set in. You couldn’t just sit here and wait for whatever plans Spencer had in store for you.

With renewed determination, you climbed onto the rickety table beneath the window and started pounding on the glass with your fists. The sound echoed in the small space, but the window refused to give. Frustration and fear fueled your efforts, each strike harder than the last until your hands ached and your hope began to weaken.

Then, just as you were about to strike again, a voice, smooth and taunting, cut through the silence. “You really think that’s going to work?”

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as you turned to see Spencer standing in the doorway. He leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with that same unsettling, predatory gaze. His presence filled the room with an oppressive weight, and your heart sank as you realized how long he might have been standing there, silently observing.

Your eyes flicked to the open door behind him, Spencer instinctively followed your gaze, as you calculated the distance, wondering if you could make a run for it. But before you could move, Spencer’s lips curled into a knowing smirk.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, his tone laced with dark amusement. “The guards are right outside. You wouldn’t get two steps before they'd drag you back.”

He stepped inside the room, locking the door behind him with a soft click that sent a shiver down your spine. The sound was final, cutting off any last hope of escape. Spencer’s eyes were fixed on you as he slowly closed the distance between you, each step deliberate, predatory.

When he was close enough, he reached out and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His grip was firm, fingers digging into your skin just enough to make you flinch. His face was so close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, and the power in his eyes was almost painful.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he whispered, his voice low and dangerous, as if savoring every word. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, a mockingly tender gesture that only made the situation more terrifying. “You belong to me now.”

Until now, your fear and the dim lighting through the streets had kept his features in shadow, but with him this close, every detail became starkly clear.

He was tall, standing over you with an imposing presence that seemed to fill the entire room. His brown eyes, sharp and intense, locked onto yours with an unsettling focus. There was a calculating glint in those eyes as if he was dissecting every aspect of your fear and desperation. His stubble was neatly groomed, giving him a rugged, but carefully maintained look. It was clear that he put thought into his appearance, despite the rough edge it conveyed.

His hair was curly, styled in a way that looked effortlessly messy but was clearly intended to appear that way. It was a deliberate disarray, a chaotic yet tidy arrangement that only added to his imposing aura. The overall effect was one of calculated carelessness—a style that spoke of someone who was both meticulous and unapologetically confident.

You found yourself unable to look away, forced to take in every detail of his face as he studied you with that predatory smirk. The harsh lines of his stubble, the casual sweep of his curls, the sharpness in his gaze—it all added up to a man who was in control, a man who was used to getting what he wanted. The realization of how meticulously he crafted his appearance only heightened your sense of dread. This was not just a random enforcer; he was someone who took pride in his role, someone who thrived on the power he held over others.

"I… I'm not scared of you." You stuttered, although your heart was racing. You tried to appear in control of the situation, yet you weren't.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “You know,” he murmured, his voice a low, teasing purr, “it’s not just about fear. There’s something else I can sense.”

You shivered at his words, the combination of his tone and the physical closeness making your pulse race. Spencer’s thumb brushed lightly over your lips, the touch surprisingly gentle yet filled with a predatory intent. He knew exactly how to push your buttons, to make you squirm without ever laying a hand on you.

His lips curled into a smirk as he continued, his voice a seductive whisper. “It’s almost like you’re enjoying the attention. Isn’t that interesting?”

Your face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and confusion, the intense gaze from his eyes only amplifying your discomfort. His teasing manner was almost more torturous than if he had been more overt. The way he spoke made it clear he was playing a game, one where your emotional reactions were the reward.

Spencer leaned back slightly, giving you a moment of peace before leaning in again, his face close enough that you could see the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. “Don’t worry,” he said softly, almost sympathetically, “this is just the beginning. I’m not going to make this easy for you.”

He stepped back, still holding your chin firmly but allowing you some space. The smirk on his face was unmistakable—he was reveling in the control he had over you. The room seemed to close in as you were left to process his words, the heat in your cheeks a testament to the psychological game he was playing.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your neck. “You’re so easy to read,” he whispered, his voice low and seductive. “I can see the way you react to every little touch, every word.”

His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path from your chin down to your collarbone, each movement designed to provoke. The sensation was both electric and maddening, his touch lingering just long enough to drive you wild. He seemed to take pleasure in your reactions, savoring the way you tensed and shivered under his touch.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his voice a tantalizing tease. The question was rhetorical, meant to deepen your sense of helplessness. His eyes remained locked on yours, studying every flicker of emotion that crossed your face.

Spencer’s touch moved to your shoulders, his fingers grazing the skin with a feathery lightness that was almost unbearable. He was so close that you could feel the heat from his body, a constant reminder of the command he held over you.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he continued to speak in that same low, seductive tone. “You’re not going to get any relief from me unless you let me see exactly what I want to see. Until then, I’ll just keep playing.”

Spencer’s smirk widened as he continued to test the boundaries of your resolve. His fingers, which had been exploring the more exposed areas of your skin, moved with deliberate intent. He leaned in closer, the heat of his breath mingling with the growing sense of vulnerability you felt.

His hand drifted lower, and you felt a jolt of anxiety as his fingers brushed against the waistband of your pants. The touch was teasing, a reminder of how completely he had taken control of the situation. His movements were slow and calculated, each brush against your skin designed to provoke a reaction.

You flinched as his hand inched past the waistband, the action crossing a boundary that made your heart race. Spencer’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he felt the fabric of your underwear beneath his fingertips, his touch both maddeningly faint and unsettlingly deliberate.

“Just a little closer,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dark amusement. “I want to see how much you can take.”

The sensation was overwhelming, creating a surge of conflicting emotions—fear, discomfort, and a desperate need for relief. Spencer seemed to revel in the control he had, his touch a constant reminder of how he could manipulate your reactions.

His hand lingered just enough to make you squirm, every brush of his fingers designed to heighten your sense of exposure. He maintained a close proximity, his face only inches from yours, ensuring that you were fully aware of his dominance.

As he continued his teasing exploration, his gaze never left yours, studying your reactions with a predatory focus. The psychological impact of his actions was evident in the way he played with your sense of control, leaving you trapped in a whirlwind of emotions and tension.

Without warning, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a fierce, demanding kiss. His kiss was insistent, a claim that spoke of his control and authority. His lips moved over yours with a fierce hunger, as if he was trying to consume every part of you. The kiss was both intense and electrifying, a physical manifestation of the power he held over you.

You felt a mix of helplessness and intrigue as his kiss deepened, his dominance apparent in the way he controlled the pace and intensity. His hands roamed over your body with an assertive confidence, making it clear that he was in charge of this moment. The kiss left you breathless, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer force of his passion.

But as the kiss continued, something shifted in Spencer’s demeanor. His initial control and dominance seemed to give way to a more primal urgency. He pulled back abruptly, his breath ragged, eyes dark with a mix of frustration and desire.

In a sudden, almost desperate motion, Spencer seized you by the waist and threw you onto the bed behind him. The movement was rough, almost as if he couldn’t contain the intensity of his emotions any longer. You landed on the bed with a jolt, the impact leaving you momentarily stunned.

Spencer stood over you, his chest heaving, the earlier dominance in his gaze replaced by a raw, unrestrained desire. He looked down at you with a mixture of frustration and need, his body tense as he tried to regain control of the situation. The shift from controlled passion to uncontrollable urgency was palpable, leaving both of you in silence, the air thick with unspoken tension and the aftermath of the intense kiss.

He undressed with a practiced ease, his gaze never leaving you. The room was filled with a tense silence as he removed his shirt, then his belt, his movements methodical yet charged with an underlying urgency. His actions were slow and deliberate, each piece of clothing discarded adding to the intensity of the moment.

As he finished undressing, Spencer’s gaze remained locked on you, a mix of desire and dominance evident in his eyes. He approached the bed with a purposeful stride, his confidence unmistakable. The sight of him, now fully exposed and moving with a mix of control and raw desire, only heightened the tension in the room.

Spencer crawled onto the bed, his movements predatory and deliberate. He positioned himself above you, his body pressing down with a commanding presence. His touch was firm but carefully controlled as he began to undress you. His fingers moved with skilled ease, undoing buttons and slipping fabric from your body with a mix of precision and urgency.

Each movement was calculated to assert his dominance, his hands brushing over your skin with a mix of intent and intimacy. His eyes were focused, studying your reactions as he worked, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he took in the effect of his actions.

Despite the forcefulness of the moment, there was a clear sense of control in Spencer’s actions. He took his time, savoring the power he held over you, ensuring that every touch and movement was calculated to maintain his dominance.

“You look incredible,” Spencer murmured, his voice a low, sultry growl. His fingertips traced a deliberate path from your collarbone down to the edge of your waist. “Absolutely breathtaking.” He moaned.

“Spencer…” you began, your voice barely a whisper. “What are you—”

Before you could finish, Spencer silenced you with a fierce, demanding kiss. His lips moved against yours with a heated haste, his hands roaming over your body with a mixture of tenderness and assertiveness. His touch was electric, sending waves of sensation through you as he explored every curve.

When he pulled back, his gaze was intense, almost searching.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “I need to hear it.” Your heart pounded as you met his gaze, the vulnerability of the moment making it difficult to find the right words.

“I want… I want you,” you finally managed, your voice trembling with a mix of desire and fear. Tears threatened to fall from the mix of confusing emotions.

Spencer’s smirk widened, a satisfied glint in his eyes. “Good,” he said, his tone laced with satisfaction.

You responded to his touch, your body arching and shifting beneath him. The room seemed to vibrate with the intensity of your connection, each movement and kiss amplifying the sensation of being completely and utterly desired.

When Spencer finally eased himself into you, his movements were measured and deliberate. He looked down at you, his expression a mix of passion and concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and filled with genuine care. You nodded slowly unable to form any words, your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

He began to move with a steady rhythm, each thrust deep and deliberate. His eyes never left yours, studying every flicker of emotion that crossed your face. “You feel incredible,” he said, his voice a husky whisper. “I’m never going to get tired of this.”

As the rhythm between you and Spencer grew more intense, the room seemed to pulse with the energy of your shared experience. Every touch, every kiss, and every movement was charged with a profound sense of connection and desire. The air was thick with anticipation, and the world outside felt like it had faded into a distant echo.

Spencer’s movements became more urgent, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he watched your every reaction. His hands gripped your body with a mix of tenderness and need, guiding you through the waves of pleasure that were building with each passing second.

“Look at me,” Spencer said, his voice a low, commanding whisper.

You locked eyes with him, the intensity of his gaze mirroring the intensity of your emotions. The pressure inside you grew, a rising tide of sensation that made it hard to focus on anything but the overwhelming pleasure. Your breaths came faster, each gasp and moan a testament to the climax that was building.

With a final, deep thrust, the release hit you like a tidal wave. The pleasure surged through you, a powerful crescendo that left you gasping and trembling. Your body arched in response, the intensity of the moment overwhelming your senses. Spencer’s grip tightened as he held you close, his own release following closely behind.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, his voice soft as he pulled you into his embrace. You nodded.

As the room settled into a quieter, more intimate atmosphere, Spencer's intense gaze remained fixed on you. His breathing was heavy, but his demeanor shifted slightly, a subtle return to the commanding presence he had exhibited earlier.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes still smoldering with a mix of satisfaction and dominance. “Good,” he said, his voice a low, throaty rumble. “I’m glad you enjoyed that.”

You looked up at him, your breaths coming in soft, shaky gasps. The intensity of the moment was still fresh in your mind, but Spencer’s words brought a new layer of complexity to the encounter. His smirk held a touch of the predatory edge that had marked his earlier actions.

“Because,” Spencer continued, his voice taking on a more authoritative tone, “you still have a lot of debt to pay.”

His words hung in the air, their impact as sharp as the bite of his earlier touches. The shift in his tone was stark, the reminder of your precarious situation a jarring contrast to the intimacy you had just shared. It was clear that, despite the physical and emotional connection between you, the underlying reality of your debt and his control over you was never far from his mind.

“You think this is over?” he asked with a chuckle, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied your reaction. “This was just part one of the payment. You owe more than that.”

The reality of his words hit you with a mix of dread and resignation. The pleasure you had experienced seemed to clash with the reminder of your situation. Spencer’s dominance was evident not only in his actions but in the way he asserted his control over your circumstances once again.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “I’m going to make sure you understand exactly what it means to be in debt to me,” he whispered. “This is just the beginning.”

Thumbs up to you for making it this far ;)

[lovethatmakingcoffee]

Part 1

Forever 

Sorry this took so long, Forever. This is a pro-Forever post so be quiet.

Not to be parasocial or anything… but…

So it seems that cancellation always wins. No matter what you have done, how bad it is or if it was even real. In Forever's situation, it was real, but the internet in pure predictable internet fashion hyped it up way more than it needed to be. From what we have honestly gathered from Forever predicament, is that he had tweets long ago that were involved primarily with a group of friends. Those tweets were disturbing and gross in nature and were directed at young girl(s) allegedly around the age of 14 to 16. There was an obvious upset from a third party who called him out on it and he apologized/resolved the situation 7 to 8 years ago. 

So! We know that this was resolved 7 to 8 years ago. We know the girl(s) involved do not want to get involved and do not see themselves as victim(s). Because if they did and didn’t get justice for it 7 to 8 years ago, they would have seen this blow up or have heard about it from those who reached out in concern and have taken advantage of the social media mob that was going after him. Either take advantage in getting their justice that they must have always desired and for some reason never got or to perhaps get it widely known enough to tear him down in some sort of way or perhaps sue/get him arrested. And they could get him arrested if they wanted to. If the age of consent in Brazil is 14, then they could always get him on some other charges. It’s not that hard. There are always loopholes. 

But they didn’t. They didn’t go after him, making me quickly realize that they do not see themselves as victims. They were not hurt in this situation and they would at least be in their early twenties by now and be able to realize with more life experience and awareness if they were hurt by something in their youth. Maybe they didn’t feel hurt at age 14, but in their early twenties they should be able to recognize if that situation was traumatic for them. But they haven’t said it was. It wasn’t traumatic. They don’t see themselves as victims so they aren’t. Even in their twenties they do not see that time in their life as something that was dangerous for them. And they don’t want to be involved and they don’t hate Forever. 

I saw the response from one of the girls. The main girl it would appear. And would also appear that twitter has twisted her words in an uncreative way. What I understood is that when she said she got to know Forever closer than the other Minecraft youtubers and that they went ‘out’, meant that they went out to hang out, because earlier in her statement, she said that. That she ‘hung out’ with Forever. Then later said she ‘went out’ further on in the statement. From what I could gather, this ‘went out’ or ‘hanging out’ were of the fan meet and greets. She said she had family members and adults with her every time, telling us that she had adult supervision, like most teenagers would have when meeting an adult creator that they admire. She also gave the years of when she met him and to me this wouldn’t make sense if these were time periods when they were dating or hooking up. If it was one day or so every few years, then how does that even work if it’s dating or hooking up? Why wouldn’t she say that she met up with him for extended periods of time and not just a day or so out of a certain number of years? She also said she had more ‘proof’ of these claims, to me meaning that she had evidence of the exact dates and places but probably didn’t want to dox herself or something cause this is the internet she is addressing. 

Also, also, if she meant that they were dating, why wouldn’t she just say that? That they ‘dated’, instead of ‘went out’ or ‘hung out.’ Some people who claim to be Portuguese said that the way she said it was supposed to be interpreted as intimate, but right now I am definitely taking everything every social media user says with a grain of salt. Especially since I have already encountered a few people who have claimed some very contradicting things which I will explain later. And I doubt since she didn’t want to be involved in the first place that she won’t reiterate what she meant since I understand her hesitation in making any statements on Twitter or other social media platforms. She may never clear up what she said, but she doesn’t have to and I don’t expect that of her. From what I could understand of what she stated, this is what she meant. That they were really just friends.

She is obviously not a professional and some of her words were left to interpretation. Making them vague and a tad unclear, but like I said, she’s not a professional. She won’t say things perfectly nor has a PR team to help her correct things. And if people go after her too for whatever reason, she doesn’t owe an explanation or an apology for anything or anybody. She didn’t even have to make a statement. In fact, demanding an apology on a victimless act seems all too entitled. And the idea of apology videos for something that has already been resolved is stupid.

And lastly, she asked not to attack Forever or others involved. And if she has resentment towards him, that would be a rather counter intuitive move. Cause she obviously appears to be a person who doesn’t want to be involved at all and if she wanted to be the victim, she could be. Hell, I would usually if not always side with the female victim if there was one. But she doesn’t see herself in that role so in turn I will not see her as a victim. 

From what I could deduct about her announcement, she clearly seems to hold no ill will to Forever except for when he displayed a few texts in his video that they exchanged that looked to me like ‘greetings’ and ‘meet ups.’ They were pretty casual and yes, the man probably should have had gotten her permission on those first, but it’s not like they were nudes or sexting. Which is what I feared. They were simple conversation starters. But I understand her displeasure in them being put online, just out of the sheer anxiety she must be receiving with this sea of anonymous twitter freaks hounding her for information. So I get her hesitation about the messages, even if it was a smaller thing then I feared. And yes, Forever should have gotten her permission to post them if he hadn’t.

Though at this point, it doesn’t matter what Forever does because the internet already views him with rage-colored glasses. And it is difficult to shake that off. He could save a hundred orphans from a burning building tomorrow and the internet will find a way to view him negatively since they strictly see him in this light.

But going back to the girl, she clearly does not see herself as a victim. Meaning, that the 'lovely' internet has gone ahead and categorized the girls into the victim position even though the ‘victims’ themselves would disagree with that stance. And then the internet has so graciously put Forever in the 'abuser/groomer/bad guy' position even though there are technically no victims to speak of. There were girls but no victims. The girls say they weren’t victims, so why don’t we believe them? I swear, give it a week and the internet will cancel the girls next for their stances and beliefs on this, holy shit the irony.

And again, I reaffirm, she is at the age to publicly tear him apart if she wants to. She should be able to understand the full weight of the situation, yet she chooses not to cancel him and asks to please not attack him or others. And that she didn’t want their past to upend his career. It sounds stereotypical but also genuine. So I shall believe her when she says nothing happened between them. I believe both her and Forever when they say this. 

Her and Forever were once and now at the same age, where a third party brought their attention to this situation, and both have agreed that this moment in their lives is not what the internet is making it out to be. That they we’re not in a pedo scenario.

But it was just too easy to put him in the pedo position. Him being a man and all. It was quite simple. And it was so easy to spark up the social media mob with key words like pedo, racist, transphobe, Nazi, blah blah blah. The internet likes to pick one if not usually all of those words when they are trying to cancel someone. And it appears, every time, that they are successful. No matter who the person is or what they have done. It is for the most part easy to cancel someone. 

Everyone showed that twitter anti who leaked the tweets how easy it was. How easy it was to get someone you don’t like offline. And everyone was so focused on what the tweets had to say, that they didn’t question the twitter user’s intentions. Most would say they did it to uncover a pedophile and to give justice to the victims by allowing awareness of the pedo's crimes so everyone will know who he truly is and that he was secretly a bad guy all along! But the fun contradictions that takes that all apart, is that there aren’t any victims. None came up and clearly said they were the victim. 

There was no justice. So no one was helped in this situation. These tweets didn’t help anyone and just hurt everyone involved. Everyone is saying that these tweets hurt them, that what Forever did hurt them. And that’s where I draw the line in the sand cause no, Forever didn’t hurt anyone. He didn’t hurt you or me or those girls. He said stupid shit in his early twenties that yeah if I had known him personally back then, I would have shattered his teeth in for being such a dumbass or ghosted his ass, but in the end, he didn’t hurt anyone. It was this random twitter user who hurt everyone. They exposed all of this that was resolved several years ago and hurt everyone by doing so. Forever, the girls who didn’t want to be exposed in any sense of the word or involved, the QSMP, you, and me.

So that leads me to ask why they did it? What were their actual intentions? No one seemed to really be asking this in the past couple of weeks. Why did they up-earth this information? Why post it now at the height of Forever's popularity when everyone online was saying how much they loved him and how he is the heart of the server and were begging for him to come back to the QSMP? Why did this anti go straight to social media instead of doing the right thing and reach out to those girls first and ask if they were ok and if they wanted this to happen? If they wanted this information to be leaked? But no, they selfishly went on twitter first and posted the leaked tweets. Not caring or considering how that would affect anyone or anything and just wanting to cause pain. And the internet gave them exactly what they wanted. They kicked Forever off the QSMP, got him labeled as a pedo, and hurt everybody. Which is honestly such bullshit.

When I saw what was happening, my first reaction to most bullshit isn’t sadness or grief, but anger. I was pissed when I saw the internet trying to cancel Forever. For multiple reasons. First and foremost because I thought it was so hypocritical that people were singing his praise and begging for him to return to the QSMP not hours prior, and then the second that stuff got leaked, everyone and I mean EVERYONE went like "oh it’s time to cancel Forever o clock." "I never liked him anyways" "he betrayed us!" "How could he do something so awful?" Which was honestly the fastest 180 I have ever seen in my whole life. They didn’t even question if these tweets were real and maybe they were generated by ai or photoshopped. They were so ready to cancel Forever before he even made his first vod addressing it. The internet left no breathing room.

And even when he made his first vod hours after, it was too late. It didn’t matter what he said or how he said it, he could have done anything at all, the internet already labeled him as guilty. They slammed his neck on the social media guillotine. I believe he could have done the most proper apology video known to man and it wouldn’t have mattered. He could have been calm, cool and collected as he professionally addressed the situation, but that wouldn’t have mattered either. He could have had actual physical evidence showing that he is not in fact a pedophile straight away and guess what? It-Wouldn’t-Have-Mattered! There were those who sparked this drama on purpose and were lying in wait for his video response to drop so they could angle it with him being the bad guy in some way.

The internet was ready to take him apart and choke him out. Mere minutes after the tweets were posted. And I agree, his vod addressing things was a bit hotheaded, but haven’t you all watched this guy for the past few months? He is hotheaded. And frankly, I would be pissed too if some rando online unearthed part of my life that I grew out of. Like- he is obviously not that guy anymore. He isn’t an incel weirdo, and I’m going to say it again and again: He is not a pedophile.

I mean, I hope Forever actually finds this guy and sues his ass. If not for himself then for other creators. It was said that this jerk was also targeting Pac and other members of the QSMP, so like- who wants this asshole around? He isn’t some whistleblower or anything, he was some anti who hated Forever and wanted him gone, and got what he wished for. And you know what? Just like how those girls could have sued or charged Forever through loopholes, ten bucks says Forever could do the same with this guy. Which go for it, my dude. That anti is going to go after someone else one day. Possibly more QSMP members. They could go after Phil or Quackity himself, posting something real or fake to get them canceled. If Forever wants to be the one who bites back, I encourage him to do so. Cause I wanna bite back. Let me at em. Let me at em.

But also, I must say I was disturbed by the internet's readiness to cancel someone so quickly. How gung-ho they were to dogpile him. And I do theorize many of these dog pilers were Forever antis who could have been in the know to fan the flames of this cancellation the moment these tweets were leaked. But that's just a theory I can’t prove. Though what also bothered me was how so many just stayed quiet. I assume in the fear of being labeled as a pedophile supporter. Afraid to say anything against the crowd less they are accused and labeled as a fellow pedophile or an idiot. But I couldn't care less. Feel free. Cancel me. I don’t have much to lose, nor could I care if you tried. I don’t have much going on anyway, so good luck. 

But yes, I know there are those who agree with me, not everyone thinks Forever is a pedo. So Forever if you see this, know that there are those who see through this antis’ intentions/charade and will still gladly support you and your endeavors, some are just not so bold enough to speak up about it, but I am cause I'm rabid and pissed. I won't go on twitter too much because that place is a minefield and I think sustaining an argument on there is too hard and not worth it cause you have to post your argument bit by bit and I’m a working adult so I don’t have time for that. Nor will I pay premium anything. I give my money to no one. 

But I have been speaking up on other platforms and my intention why? …Well, it’s because firstly this is dumb, and secondly this is wrong, and thirdly I had the worst year of my life in 2023. The people I thought I could trust turned out to be very bad people and whoopee, I got deported. It’s a long story but I will save you the details. But just so you know, the reason I will defend you with all my blood, sweat, and tears is because the QSMP was one of the few things that lightened up my day. And you were my favorite part of the QSMP and I think nobody did it like you.

You did such fascinating lore and you and your character were so interesting, I couldn't take my eyes off of you. Your avatar was so fun to draw and I'm not going to stop drawing your character because of this. You are haha funny Brazilian man, but you are also so much more than that. You are smart and creative. You have genuine heart when taking care of your friends and the eggs. And I hope you find happiness after this turmoil. I hope you can pick yourself back up again after this cancellation because you deserve way more than what these so called 'fans' have given you. 

You have obviously grown into a fine respectable man ever since you posted those nasty tweets from several years ago and I am proud to see that you have changed. Not many people ever change and it is nice to see that you have done so for the better. That you recognized your mistakes, apologized all those years ago then improved yourself. I think that’s very commendable and not many are willing to put in the effort. It’s just a shame that the internet won’t let you change and grow up. Once something happens, they forever cement that into your personality when you are obviously so much more than your past faults. You are not that person anymore! But even though I have known you for only a short while, I can see that you are a good person with a good heart and if others can’t see that then so be it.

And since you have heart, well... I don’t know if I should say this next part, but I will so sorry if it’s true. But I think you warned your friends to unfollow you, didn't you? Or at least, there was a mutual discussion and agreement. So they wouldn't get caught in the crosshairs. And you told Quackity to remove you so the QSMP wouldn’t suffer. Or you both agreed that your removal was for the best. I at least theorize that’s what you did. I don’t know how well the other QSMP members have taken your tweets, I assume some are as mad at you as those twitter users, but I think statistically not all of them hate you. I have no way of proving it, but the only way I can tell is that yes, they quietly banned and unfollowed you. Yes, they removed you from QSMP but they haven’t made any videos going like "I hate Forever and this is why." It could be some sort of contractual thing on why they aren’t openly addressing their supposed disgust, but I sincerely think this is the case. And I don’t want your friends to be targeted too in case it is, but if it is I think it’s a bit of a shame. That if they actually disagree with the masses they won’t speak up and let you take the fall. Even if it’s per your request, it still seems awful and personally makes me sick. That everyone is just allowing for you to be labelled as a pedo. I mean- your girlfriend and family are being harassed and those female fans are being bothered. I just can’t fully see why the QSMP members would stay still at such disgusting behavior from the masses, especially if they disagree otherwise. I think it’s unfair and goes against everything that the QSMP represents. It’s supposed to represent people coming together and community, isn’t it? Right? Well what a lonesome community it has become. 

Forever, this part of the message isn’t more so for you but for Quackity and co. Questioning if what I theorize is true, you are really going to let your friend take the fall for your server, reputation, and money? 

Frankly, ouch.

But I get it. If this is Forever protecting everything you guys built together then I understand. Especially since it seemed more than just a cancellation on Forever and more like an attempted mass cancellation on the entire QSMP server and all of its members. Because just think, everyone. If they accepted Forever back into the fold and even made an argument saying everything I said or more, the internet would still tear them apart. Everything they worked for could possibly go down the drain, OR so QSMP and co may fear it would. I know there are others who have seen through the antis’ intentions, recognizing who Forever is as a person, and understood the QSMP's decision with removing him. But that doesn’t change the fact that this is entirely unfair, will hinder the QSMP because Imma be real, after taking everything that I already said into consideration and just looking at this now as a technical aspect of what makes up the QSMP, Forever was the one bringing up the best lore. 

And I mean it. The eggs are cute and wholesome, and many creators have made some interesting lore with the shipping and plot, but Forever’s was just so compelling. Brunim and Philza, Ninho, the Presidency, the Happy Pill Arc, the Nether, the Infection, Eve. It was all so riveting that I was on the edge of my seat! I will claim without a shadow of a doubt that my man made the best content and I will stay firm on that judgment. And personally I think the QSMP will become lacking without his presence. And just the fact that they might have let him go over something that is wrong and they might have secretly disagreed with it if they weren’t so susceptible to the loud majority’s favor… ugh, it just stings.

Just knowing that my guy has grown and is kind and funny and that incel punk is not who he is anymore, yet he is still dragged by the past and accused of one of the worst things ever! With no ‘victims’ backing up that accusation! Is just plain fucking revolting!

AND lastly, letting go of Forever doesn’t stop the QSMP from being cancelled in the future. You all have just bought yourself more time until the inevitable. At this very moment, it would appear that a wave of different types of hate and negativity has washed over the QSMP, targeting tons of different members in different ways. None so impactful as Forever’s cancellation, but it could get that bad for others.

It has already been proven that there are people out there who will go through great lengths to get rid of one of the best members on your team. So they will individually attack every single member no matter who they are, bringing up past dirt or making something up. And then more successful cancellations will ensue. It doesn’t matter who it is, it could be Wilbur who was on tour all year, he will be an easy target cause he's a musician and attractive so it will be simple to accuse him of having relations with any number of female fans. Etoiles has been cancelled once already so he could easily be targeted again. They can even go after Quackity saying he met with a younger girl than Forever did, because woohoo the big outrage was that at least one of the fans was 14 years old and that is also the age of consent in Brazil. Meaning if he was a pedophile, he could get away with hooking up with this female fan since it would have been legal. And everyone online would be justifiably cancelling him for the ick factor alone. Cause I will speak on everyone’s behalf that is twisted and gross, Brazil. But guess what? Come on, guess? Guess what the age of consent is in Mexico?  ~12~ So look out, Quackity. Because these cancellers will cancel you whether anything is real or not and so many will jump on that bandwagon alongside side them. So please. Do look out for yourself.

But what I am saying that it is so easy to unfairly cancel someone on social media. Any one of the QSMP members will be next and if more and more of you drop because of it or have to be removed because of it, then there will be no more QSMP members left. No more QSMP community. No one left to defend each other because everyone was busy defending themselves to 'protect' their friends from being dragged down with them. Even if you lose some viewership or a lot, you should stick together. Because that’s what the QSMP is all about. And you are a lot stronger in numbers than you are alone. You will get labeled as the pedo server or whatever by assholes, but at least you didn’t discard your friends over twitter masses that just frankly don’t matter.

Also, fyi, I think it’s statistically improbable for everyone on the QSMP to be creeps. Maybe one or two is believable. But everyone is a racist, transphobe, pedo, blah blah blah whatever? I press X to doubt. And even now. Even with the one being so strongly accused, I still don’t believe Forever is Pedo Monster. Not at all. Especially with everything I have pointed out today.

And speaking of the masses, I believe some of you think this and deep down some of you agree that what I have said is all true. Even if you feel hurt by it, I think you can sense that this was all too convenient and was very malicious from the start. And honestly, now that these trolls have been given a foot to stand on and power, things will most likely just get worse. Or maybe not, who knows! But I’m saying it’s highly likely.

Though to scold some of you who have been making contradictory statements, I read the tweet Forever liked and made a whole essay about it! If you really read it, he wasn’t liking it because the thread maker said that "young girls are mature for their age” so that means pedophile is okay. That’s not what they meant at all! In fact, that statement was completely taken out of context. The thread maker said there are studies arguing with that statement "young girls are mature for their age" and then the thread maker immediately noted "But that’s a damaging mindset." They did not agree with pedophilia and was taking a more calculative approach about why this situation was happening. And that’s why Forever liked it. Not because both him and the thread maker believed dating 14-year-old girls was ok. He's not that stupid. Just stupid people took it out of context to fan the flames and people took what they said at face value without reading the thread.

Here is the English version of said post that I translated with google translate-https://lovethatmakingcoffee.tumblr.com/post/739870595768090624/lumilla-lopes-ludylops-post-about-forever-in

And here is my deduction of said post if any of you have difficulty reading- https://lovethatmakingcoffee.tumblr.com/post/739017633425473536/and-then-she-said-that-type-of-mentality-hurts#notes

So to highlight this long-winded post, no I don’t think Forever is a pedophile, I don’t think there is a victim, and I do think that anti twitter user needs to face me in the front of an Arby’s so I can show them fist one and fist two.

I will not respond to any of the replies that will come from this post because I follow the number one rule of the internet and that is "To not feed the trolls".

And yes, if you do annoy me, I will block you. I could care less.

I will never delete any of my art that I made of Forever and have saved as much lore from with wiki as I could in case QSMP just wants to get rid of it one day. I also have seen lots of people get rid of or censor their Forever art, so like a panicking Greek fleeing from the burning Library of Alexandria, I am saving as much art as I can and keeping them on my phone. I don't know what I am going to do with it, but it won't be lost to deletion or censorship.

I won’t really be able to follow you, Forever, because I don’t speak Portuguese. But I hope wherever you venture to will be fun and you will be happy, you haha funny Brazilian man.

(I don’t think there was any other way I could have written this where I probably won’t get hate. This was long and took many days to write, and I CERTAINLY don’t have a PR team looking this over, so like Forever, no matter how perfect I respond, some troll will bite at my fingers. So yep.)

[ase-trollplays]

When Everything Is Gone

It felt strange being back in their old stomping grounds after half a sweep away. From the outside, things looked as good as they ever did, but Amprus knew these streets, these people, the atmosphere. They knew this place as though they lived their whole life there, so the change was felt in an instant.

Something was very, very wrong.

The first thing they noticed were the hemoanons in suits that walked the streets and ran the businesses. The second thing was the lack of Marked. Not a single troll could be found with a black band on their horns, a stark contrast to the city they remembered. There even seemed to be less people around now. Businesses they used to frequent were gone, and the number of hiveless trolls was concerning considering how rare a sight it used to be.

They spent the whole night investigating and taking notice of all the changes and problems they saw. Some things were an improvement such as the soup kitchen and the hiveless shelter, both of which were packed with desperate trolls. However, they couldn't abide the multitude of other issues. The entire city's vibes were off, and they needed answers. As soon as daylight broke, they made their way to a familiar apartment complex to talk with an old friend.

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

A young rustblood, one Vallen Shonee, sits in the living room of his apartment with his gecko-frog lusus sleeping in its enclosure. He's in the middle of taking apart the tv remote when you throw open the front door and stomp your way in. He jolts and drops the remote on the floor before giving you a glare.

"Knock knock! Who is it? It's me, Amprus! Oh cool, come right in," he deadpans and stands up from the couch. "Nice pajamas, by the way. You're a little early for the sleepover, though."

You march up to him and grab him by the collar so you can force him down to your eye level. He yelps and shoves you off of him. "Easy, killer! Since when can't you take a joke?"

"What the hell is going on around here!?" you demand as he smooths out his shirt.

"I was minding my business and you busted in and assaulted me!"

"Not that, you idiot! The city! Everything's wrong!"

"How do you not know? You practically live here. ... No, wait. You... You died sweeps ago. You're dead," Vallen said as he looked down at them. He placed a hand on his head as realization clicked in his mind. "You're dead, so... I--"

"You're dreaming. This is a dream. I'm really here, though. TLDR ghost powers," you tell him impatiently. He sits back down on the couch, gathers the remote pieces, and resumes dismantling it. He lets out a big, long sigh as he thinks about what to say next.

"The Grey Mob took over," he finally says after what feels like forever. Your eyes widen at that, and your confusion and shock is quickly converted to anger and disbelief. You slap the remote out of his hands and once again grab him by the collar. This time he doesn't fight you.

"What do you mean the Grey Mob took over!? Who let that happen?? Who's the idiot who let them in!!" you question as you give him a few hard shakes. He doesn't even look at you, which just pisses you off more. You shake him even harder to get some kind of reaction out of him. "Well!!?"

"We didn't have a choice," he weakly admits. "We were getting attacked on all sides by highblood gangs every week. People were scared, and we were struggling to keep up.

"The first time one of them showed up offering to help, we sent them packing. Told them we know how to take care of our own, and we don't need them. The next week, a gang of clowns came. We lost a lot of Marked and residents. They nearly demolished us.

"When the Grey Mob came back a second time, we were against the wall. We wouldn't survive another attack, and everyone was terrified. We were desperate, so we agreed to an alliance."

You slowly release him as you process everything, but your deep glare never falters. Something doesn't sound right. Highblood attacks were never that frequent, and the mob just happened to show up and offer to help? There's no such thing as a good mob. They wouldn't offer unless they were getting something out of it.

"... I bet those fuckers planned this. They sent all those highbloods here to--"

"Yeah, we know. It didn't take that long to figure out something was sus," Vallen interrupted. "We didn't realize it right away, but after those purples came and the mob sent someone again, we got the message."

"So you knew this was a setup, and you still let them in!? What's the matter with you!?" you shout in anger. Vallen finally breaks from his despondence and shoots up from the couch to push you hard enough that you stumble backwards onto your ass.

"What were we supposed to do, Amprus!? Let the city get taken over and destroyed!? Let everyone living here get killed?! It was death or compliance, so we chose what would keep us and everyone else alive!!" he roars at you. You hate that he's probably right, but you refuse to believe there wasn't some other third option. You sit on the floor stewing in your unbridled frustration stubbornly refusing to answer.

After several moments of uncomfortable silence, Vallen calms down enough to speak.

"It didn't start out this bad. They were actually pretty helpful. They set up a money lending place that helped people afford having their hives and businesses repaired and rebuilt, and the rates were good. They did community outreach like the soup kitchen and the hiveless shelter to help people get back on their feet. Even did renovation projects," he explains as he once again takes a seat on the couch, though he doesn't bother fussing with the remote anymore.

"Then they started pressuring the businesses to give them protection money. The places that refused got their reputations trashed and ended up going under. Then underground casinos started popping up, and the people who couldn't pay their debt were forced to work for them until it was resolved."

"What happened to the Marked? There's no one with a band on their horns anymore, at least not any I could find," you ask. You want to believe there's still some of them holed up somewhere, but the way Vallen sighs and holds his head in his hands says otherwise.

"The Marked are gone, Amprus. They starved us out. Anyone who supported us got hit with penalties, and their businesses wouldn't help us. Eventually we disbanded. Some of them left the city altogether," he explained sadly. The disappointment in his voice is so heavy and thick you swear you can feel it settle on your skin like a blanket. This can't be how it ends.

"... So that's it, then. We just lied down and let them take our city from us. Leriot would never settle for this shit," you curse and pick yourself up off the floor. Another sigh from Vallen as he looks back at you tells you you're not going to like what he says next.

"You're right. He didn't. That's why they got rid of him."

The words form a heavy boulder in the pit of your stomach, and all you can do is stare back at him searching for some kind of sign or tell in his expression to let you know that the worst didn't happen. You find nothing of the sort, and you start feeling anxiety creep in.

"What do you mean they got rid of him?" you ask almost pleadingly as your voice wavers. He looks at you incredulously.

"What do you think it means when the mob gets rid of someone?" he deadpans, and the pit in your stomach drops.

"When...?" You can feel the corners of your eyes start to sting and your jaw lock up, and he looks at you hesitantly as if not telling you would spare your feelings. Your eyes sting more as small tears start to form. Your patience is hair thin. "When did they kill him??"

"Six perigees ago. He was rallying the last Marked to run the mob out and take back the city. They found him frozen to death in an industrial freezer. The door was tampered with so it wouldn't open from the inside. Corpse cutter said he was in there at least two nights. Everyone that was backing him either abandoned the plan or had 'accidental' deaths of their own. ... I'm sorry, Amprus."

You're silent for a few moments. Then a few minutes. Leriot is dead. The Marked is gone. The city belongs to the Grey Mob. Everything's ruined. If you could die a second time, you probably would from heartbreak. Your second home is dead, and you couldn't even be here to fight for it.

You only snap out of it when you feel Vallen wrap his arms around you in a hug. Proud as ever, you refused to show vulnerability in front of him. With a hard shove, you break the hug.

"Where did you bury him?"

[sinner-as-saint]

Just A Little Too Much.

(Dark) Mob!Steve Rogers x Innocent!Reader AU

Run-through: You met Steve after your parents got divorced. He was your mom’s ‘special friend’, and you soon began living at his place, along with your mom. You were just 18 and a half then, and Steve became the only man you looked up to after you learnt that your father was sent to prison for unknown reasons. Soon, Steve became the only family you had after your mother started going away on even more trips for work, then came the time where she stopped coming home altogether. But that was alright, because you had Steve. You were his Princess, and he often told you that you needed no one else but him. He would do anything for you, he loved you - perhaps just a little too much. 

Themes: innocent!reader, manipulation, dark!steve, smut, fluff

You woke up from your nap with a faint smile on, feeling a pair of lips leaving soft, warm kisses all over your cheek. 

Steve. 

You immediately felt so warm just knowing he was here; his powerful scent wrapping around you, making you feel safe. 

“Wake up, Princess.” He murmured. “It’s your birthday, you can’t be napping.” He said it like it was the most ridiculous thing one could do. 

You heard Steve’s voice, and felt his beard trail after his lips all over your face. You opened your eyes, giggling and realizing that you had fallen asleep on the couch in your bedroom. You looked up to find Steve above you, his strong arm placed on the back of the couch as he bent over slightly to look down at you with his pretty blue eyes. He was dressed in one of his many expensive, well-tailored suits which gave away that he had just finished some call or video conference regarding work. 

“Hi Stevie.” 

His soft gaze roamed your body. “Hi Princess. Come on wake up, you don’t wanna sleep all day.” 

You smiled up at him. “Yes I do.” You said, making him raise his eyebrows at you; smirking. “It’s my birthday, I can nap all day if I want to.” You did make a fair point, he had to admit. 

His smirk morphed into a gentle, calming smile as he reached out to caress your cheek softly. “But I miss you.” 

You shrugged, lazily. “Sounds like a personal problem to me.” 

His lips parted in fake surprise. “Is that so?” 

The moment you saw his hands reaching out towards you, you knew he was planning to tickle you till you ran out of breath and begged him to stop. So you shot up and slipped from his grasp, running away as fast as you could; giggling uncontrollably. 

Steve chased you, chuckling each time you escaped his grasp. “Come here, Princess. You can’t run from me, you know that.” He chased you around the room, watched you as you jumped over the coffee table, the pouf and just as you were about to run into the walk-in closet Steve managed to grab your hand and tackled you down on the bed. 

He had you trapped, giggling and squirming under him. He was a happy man as he looked down at you, pinning your wrists down on the bed above your head, his face so close to yours that he was certain you and him were sharing the same breath. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. 

You eventually stopped fighting and squirming. You looked up at him and smiled as big as you could. You stared up at him and saw the man who was your everything. 

Steve was your everything. Your family was… absent. Steve said none of them cared about you as much as he did. Steve also said that your father was not a good man, and that’s why he was locked up in jail. You never asked why, or what he did to deserve such punishment, but Steve said that it wasn’t important for you to know so you let it go. Your mom was not here either, she was always out of the country, working. Steve said your mom made work her priority over you, but that was okay too because you had Steve. And he was all you need. 

Steve looked down at you, admiring how pretty his Princess was. When he first saw you around four years ago, he knew he had to protect you forever. You were too precious, too innocent for this world. He couldn’t just stand there and watch this world corrupt you in any way, so he kept you close. He did what he had to in order to keep you under his roof and protection all the time. He made sure you’d never have to worry about anything, ever. 

“Hi Princess.” He murmured again, still on top of you. You gave him a smile which always melted his heart ever since day one. You owned him, and you probably had no idea about all the things he was willing to do for you. 

“Hi Stevie.” To you, he had always been Stevie - your best friend, your family, your protector - your everything. You don’t know where everyone went, or why everyone gradually disappeared from your life once you met Steve. But you had him, and he was all you needed. 

“Happy Birthday.” He whispered, wishing you for the fifth time since this morning when you woke up in his arms. Steve leaned down to kiss the side of your mouth. 

You relished his touch. Steve always made you feel good just by being there, and having all his attention on you was all you ever wanted. You giggled as he kissed his way down your neck. “Thank you.” 

He hummed as he kissed along the neckline of the dress you were wearing. “Did you like your gift, Princess?” Steve asked, kissing along the top of your breasts. 

You let out a quiet gasp of pleasure as you felt him gently nip at your skin. You nodded, “I did. Thank you, Stevie.” You whispered, getting lost in the way he made you feel. You thought of the gift he had given you this morning, it was currently parked in the twelve-car garage of the house, sitting there with a pretty, red bow on top of it. It was your shiny, new dream car. 

“We can go on a drive later, if you want.” He murmured against your skin, one of his hands releasing your wrists, lowering to undo the buttons at the front of your dress. 

You shivered as you felt the warm, slow touches of his lips and fingertips all at the same time. He was always so gentle with you and always so mean to others. He always said that was because you were his precious Princess and other people meant nothing to him. 

A drive with Stevie sounded amazing. Only, he’s always working these days. Would he even have the time? “We could. But then what about work?” 

He froze for a moment, hearing the hint of sadness and uncertainty in your tone. He hated it. He hated that he had been so engrossed in work this past week that you noticed he wasn’t spending enough time with you. 

Steve pulled away and looked up at you. “I’ve been too busy with work lately, haven’t I?” He asked, knowing the answer. The little, sad nod you gave him made his heart hurt. “Aww…” he cooed, reaching up to kiss your nose, “I’m sorry, Princess.” He murmured against your skin and pulled away to look into your eyes again. “How about this, you have me all to yourself for the whole day today and the upcoming week? Sounds good?” 

He didn’t care about how much that would affect the many people who worked for him, all he knew was that his Princess needed him and he would do anything to make her happy. 

You smiled brightly. “Perfect!” 

He chuckled before leaning in to kiss your lips. Slow and gentle at first, before growing more and more needy for you. He pressed his body against yours, allowing you to feel the urgency of his need. You gasped into the heated kiss as you felt his hardness in between your legs. Steve shoved his tongue past your lips, tasting you, stroking the inside of your mouth. You whined when you felt him roll his hips against yours. 

You felt warm, burning with need just as much as he was. And he knew. 

You shivered in pleasure as you felt him kiss his way down your body again, unbuttoning your dress with impatience, his need overpowering his entire being. He needed you, needed to taste you and have you come undone on his tongue, he needed your taste embedded in his brain, not wanting to risk ever forgetting it. 

Steve kissed down the middle of your breasts, down till your belly button and stopped at the waistband of your light pink, lace panties, which matched the bra and the dress you wore. Wanting to tease you just a little, he stuck his tongue out and licked along the edge of your underwear before licking up and down your wet, clothed core. 

He watched you squirm on the bed. Smirking devilishly, he kissed along your inner thigh just to mess with you a little more. He could tell you were slowly giving into the haze of pleasure which washed over you even though he had barely touched you yet. 

“Stevie…” you whispered, closing your eyes and tipping your head back as he nibbled along the soft skin on your inner thigh. “Please…” 

He had to give in. His cock twitched in his pants, straining against the zipper at the sound of your soft moans and pleas. 

He pulled your underwear away from your skin and to the side, exposing your dripping wet folds to his hungry eyes. He could tell just by the look of it that your sensitive clit was throbbing. He hummed in satisfaction, “Prettiest little cunt I’ve ever seen…” He whispered more so to himself, reminding himself - not that he would ever forget - that you were his. “Spread your legs for me, Princess.” 

You did, just like you did everything he asked. You parted your legs then supported yourself up on your elbows, watching him. Steve once mentioned that he liked it when you watched him as he pleasured you. 

You let out a moan the moment his mouth touched you. His lips moved along your wet folds as his tongue teased your entrance. His beard scratched your sensitive skin, as your arousal spread all over his mouth. 

“You taste so sweet, Princess.” You watched how Steve closed his eyes, savouring your taste. You were a moaning mess in no time, your whole body electrified at his touch. “Like strawberries and honey.” He moaned at your taste alone, humping against the bed discreetly. He could always fuck you later, but right now was strictly about you. 

Steve moved his hand which was caressing up and down your thigh towards your core. He pushed his two fingers past your entrance and pumped them in and out of you slowly, gradually increasing his pace. He felt your walls clench around his fingers as you moaned louder and louder with each stroke of his fingers against your walls. His mouth moved to your throbbing clit, teasing you further until you felt like you were losing your mind. 

“Stevie…” You struggled to hold back your moans. 

Steve took one look at you and he knew you wouldn’t last much longer. You never could last long under his touch anyways. But he was always more than happy to pleasure his Princess. 

“Are you gonna cum for me, Princess? You can’t hold back from cumming all over my tongue, can you baby?” 

His husky voice made your body throb even more, along with his warm breath fanning your damp skin. You whined in response, dropping down on the bed - your upper body having no strength to hold you up any longer. Steve chuckled. 

“It’s okay, Princess. Cum for me.” He whispered and placed his mouth back on your clit while his fingers pumped in and out of your relentlessly. He noticed the way your legs were shaking slightly. You couldn’t hold the pressure in between your legs anymore so you let go and came violently around his fingers and mouth. 

You moaned out loud, squirming as you came, and Steve lapped up everything you had to offer. He licked each and every drop of your cum as it spilled out of you before kissing his way up your body again. He reached your lips and kissed you deeply. 

You giggled into the kiss. It made Steve smile, he always found it adorable how you were always so giggly after he made you cum. 

Steve pulled away after a while, looking down at your swollen lips and the shine in your eyes. “Want me to order your favorites for your special day? Strawberry and chocolate donuts?” He asked. Those damn donuts were your kryptonite. He often wondered if you loved them more than you loved him. 

You gave it a thought. “Nope.” 

Your answer worried him. And he opened his mouth to ask you why but you spoke up before he could. “Let’s make some cupcakes instead. With strawberry and chocolate icing.” You had missed him so much and you desperately wanted to spend time with him, and what was better than baking together in the kitchen? 

Steve smiled, almost reading your mind. He knew exactly why you had proposed so. He felt a little guilty but quickly pushed those thoughts aside. Then he remembered… 

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Princess,” it sounded like a warning. “You remember what happened the last time we tried to bake something, right?” His voice sent shivers dancing down your back. 

Of course you remembered. It involved a lot of kisses, chocolate ganache and eventually ended with Steve fucking you right there on the kitchen floor. Your face felt really as that memory resurfaced in your head. 

You nodded. “I promise that won’t happen again, Stevie.” You were the one to blame for that, since it was you who kept teasing him in the first place. 

He hummed in your ear, the sound making your body throb again. “We’ll see about that.” He pulled away and stared down at you. “Okay, come on. Let’s go make some cupcakes for my Princess.” 

You jumped out of bed the moment he got off you. He pulled you close again, buttoning your dress for you while you looked up at him like he hung the moon. 

By the time you made it to the kitchen, Steve had already removed his suit jacket and tie. The black button down shirt was doing things to you but he didn’t need to know that yet. It should be illegal for a man to look that good. While you took out all the appliances and utensils you needed for the cupcakes and icing, Steve’s phone vibrated on the counter. 

He grabbed his phone and took a look at who the caller was. You noticed the frown on his face. 

“Who is it Stevie? Is it work?” 

The discontent in your tone didn’t go by unnoticed. But this phone call had to be dealt with. “No, Princess.” Steve stepped closer and kissed your forehead. “It’s… an old friend. I’ll be back in just a minute, okay?” He kissed your lips briefly and left the kitchen. 

You pouted for a moment but then shook it off. 

Steve went as far away from the open kitchen as he could, just to get out of your hearing range. He had to cross the entire living room to answer the call. Bitterly. 

“What?” He spat at the caller. And he was immediately greeted by a sobbing woman. 

“Just let me talk to her, at least please. She’s my-,” 

Steve cut the crying woman off, like he always did. “She’s your nothing! Nothing, you hear me? She’s mine. Only mine. It’s not my fault you’re a terrible mother who doesn’t care about her daughter’s well-being.” 

He heard more sobbing on the phone. “I didn’t do anything, I just-,” 

He cut her off once again. “Stop lying! You tried to take her away from me!” 

The woman raised her voice. “Because I realized that you’re crazy! I regret the day I met you, the day I let you in my life, in her life. You were a big mistake, and now you won’t even let me talk to my daughter?!” Her anger could be heard despite the tears. “You won’t even let me come home, I can’t even step out of this damn place because your men are everywhere!” 

Steve chuckled. Your mother was abroad, not allowed to come anywhere close to you because… because he didn’t like the thought of having to share your love or attention. You were his. You had him, you didn’t need anyone else. 

“You’re in a luxurious house, with everything one can ever need in it. What are you complaining about? You could’ve been dead, you know? I could have had you killed instead if I wanted to, but I didn’t. You should thank me for that.” 

He received a series of swear words as a reply, which only made him smirk wider. 

“It’s her birthday, Steve. Let me talk to her. I won’t tell her anything about this, please.” The woman begged. 

Steve scoffed. “She doesn’t need you. She has me. Now, don’t ever call here again or I’ll make sure you don’t live to see another day.” He ended the call right in the woman’s face. He carelessly tossed his phone on one of the couches as he walked back into the kitchen. 

You were taking out all the ingredients, weighing them on the scale carefully. You had somehow managed to get some flour on your cheek in the process. Steve smiled, his heart melting at the sight of you. So precious, all his. 

He walked over to where you stood and wrapped his arms around your waist, lowering his head to kiss your exposed shoulder. “Hi Princess.” He murmured, softly. 

You smiled. “Hi.” 

“I love you more than anything, Princess. You know that, right?” He placed another kiss on your skin. 

You turned your head to the side a little, smiling, “I know, you tell me everyday. I love you too, Stevie.” 

-

Midway through, while your cupcakes were in the oven and Steve was getting the icing ready, he noticed a slight frown on your face as you sat on the counter not far from him. 

“What is it, Princess?” He placed the bowl down and stared at you, giving you his undivided attention as always. 

“Hmm?” You looked up at him, “Oh, nothing.” You lied. And he caught it immediately. You were never a good liar. 

Steve walked over to you, stepping in between your legs and placing his hands on your thighs, caressing your skin gently. “Don’t lie to me, Princess. Tell me what you’re thinking about.” 

You looked down at your lap, his hands inching higher and higher up your thigh. You wondered if you should bring it up, because it always upset him. But before you could stop yourself, you were blurting out the words, “I was wondering why my mom didn’t call me today. She did last year. You think she forgot my birthday?” 

Steve was upset for a moment, before being clouded by jealousy and possessiveness. He tried smiling to hide it. “You don’t need her. If she cared, she’d be here right now. Don’t you agree, Princess?” 

You nodded, lowering your eyes, but Steve could tell you didn’t agree. 

“Princess, look at me.” He spoke, you looked up. “You don’t need anyone. You have me, right?” 

You nodded again, more firmly. “I know, Stevie but-,” 

You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence. Steve slid his hand into your hair and tugged on it gently to make sure he had your attention. “Because what, huh? Is my love not enough for you? Am I not enough?” His tone was gentle but bitter. His eyes were glossier than before. Anger, jealousy, it all ate him up on the inside. 

You stared into his eyes, your own watering a little. Oh no, you didn’t want to upset him. “You’re my everything, Stevie.” 

Those words shook his entire being, and he released your hair immediately. He looked down for a moment, sighing loudly. He placed his hands on either side of you on the counter, pressing his forehead to your chest. “You’re mine, Princess.” He whispered as your fingers slid into his hair, massaging his scalp to calm him down. It was working. “You’re mine and you don’t need anyone else.” He whispered. “We don’t need anyone.” 

You spoke up immediately, “I know. I don’t need anyone. I have you.” You felt him kiss his way up your neck soon after. 

“But you’re still thinking about your mother, are you not?” He sounded bitter. “She doesn’t care about you, Princess. She never has, neither did your father. They never cared or loved you like I do.” He said softly, but his jealousy was hard to ignore. 

“I know, Stevie.” 

You couldn’t see his face but you knew he was in a bad mood. He eventually said so himself, “You upset me, Princess.” He murmured then resumed kissing your skin. “I do all this for you, buy you what you want, do everything to keep you happy but it seems I’m not enough.” He whispered against your skin and you shivered at his tone. 

“No Stevie, that’s not-,” 

He shut you up by placing his mouth on yours. He kissed you with all he had in him, pouring out all his emotions - the good and the bad. His hands gripped your hips as he kissed you hard and fiercely, not caring that he was biting your lips carelessly. 

You couldn’t help but gasp into the kiss when he swiftly slid you off the counter and set you down on your feet. Steve pulled away and stared into your eyes with love and anger. “I’m all you need, Princess. Why can’t you just accept that?” 

Before you could say something, he turned you around so your front pressed against the edge of the counter and your back to his torso. You gripped the counter as he grabbed your dress on either side and pulled it up until it bunched around your waist. You felt his mouth at the side of your neck; licking and biting and kissing - making your heart race and that intensified when you heard the sound of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

“I’m gonna show you that I’m enough.” He whispered into your ear. “That I’m all you need, because no one is going to love you as much as I do, Princess.” The sincerity and certainly in his voice sent tingles down your spine. 

You felt him lower your underwear until it reached your ankles. Your heart fluttered and raced all at the same time. You could feel him, pressing against you. His hands on either side of your waist as you pressed the palms of your hands against the cold counter. 

You waited for a moment. Then you felt the tip of his cock press against your folds, slowly rubbing up and down; parting the lips at your entrance. “You’re all mine, Princess.” Steve moaned under his breath as he pushed himself slowly inside of you.

Your grip on the counter grew tighter as you steadied yourself for his thrust, knowing it was coming sooner than you thought. Steadily, Steve filled you up; stretching you all the way like he always did. And he had you whimpering in no time. 

“You belong to me.” He murmured, pushing his face into the crook of your neck. Your mind was foggy as he started rocking into you. Slowly at first, then gradually building up his pace. “Say it.” He demanded. “Tell me you belong to me.” 

You felt all of him. Each time he filled you up entirely, the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot, and you moaned out loud each time; your walls clenching around him. 

“I’m yours…” you whispered. Your mind was hazy, by him slamming into you. His thrust was animalistic, and rough. Each time he slammed into you, your front crashed against the counter, achingly. But the pleasure his body brought you made up for that.

“Louder.” He growled. “I didn’t hear you.” He taunted, pulling his face away. His hand flew to your hair and he grabbed a fistful of it, and tugged on it; tipping your head back. “I said louder, Princess.” His voice sounded menacing. 

You whimpered as he pounded into your core. His pelvic bone smacking against your ass each time he thrust into you. “I… I’m yours, Stevie” You said, louder like he wanted. 

The sounds of your skin slapping against one another was downright obscene, and the grunts leaving his mouth was even more sinful. You couldn’t see him, yet you knew he looked absolutely, devilishly handsome with his head thrown back, eyes closed, his lips parted as occasional groans escaped his lips. You could imagine him with the frown of pleasure he always had whenever he fucked you. 

“You better remember that, Princess.” He growled into your ear. “You are mine. I love you, and I am the only one you’re allowed to love back. You hear me?” 

You nodded, moaning as he reached every single sensitive spot inside you. You felt a familiar warmth taking over you, and a pressure building in your lower region. You knew you couldn’t hold it any longer. 

And when your walls clenched violently around him, Steve knew you were close as well.

“You’re gonna cum for me, Princess?” he cooed, his voice laced with lust and desire. Seeing you didn’t reply, he tugged on your hair and tilted your head back a little more. He leaned in to kiss your parted lips before pulling away a few inches to spit into your mouth, then leaned in to kiss your swollen lips again. You moaned wantonly as he did. 

“Cum for me.” He slammed his cock harder into you, and your eyes watered. He felt agonizingly good. It didn’t take much for you to come undone after that. Gushing out around his cock, walls pulsating around him; you came, hard.

He did too. With a few strokes against your walls, he came right after you. “All fucking mine.” His warm load shooting inside you, leaving behind his presence as your body shook against the counter.

Carefully, he pulled out. And smiled, satisfied, as he watched how his cum trickled out of you and past your folds. He adjusted his pants and zipped it up. He pulled your underwear up, then finally fixed your dress. 

He leaned in to kiss your cheek. Your back was still against his torso, and his arms were around you. Unable to trust your own body, your hands gripped the counter still. He nuzzled your neck, kissed your skin and moved his lips to your ear. 

“Now tell me, Princess, do you need anyone else? Anyone at all?” He mumbled. 

You shook your head, still hazy. “No, Stevie. You’re all I need. You’re my everything.” You replied, repeating the same words he constantly told you. “I love you.” 

Steve smiled against your skin. “I love you more, Princess.” He added, “Perhaps a little too much.” He meant what he said. 

He didn’t care how many times he’d have to remind you. He would do it as many times as it took, all for you to realize that you belonged to him. There was no one else. No other love, no one else to turn to, nowhere to run. Just him. 

“Now come on, we have cupcakes to ice.” He kissed your cheek before pulling your trembling body away from the counter. 

You smiled up at him. Your Stevie… How could you ever bother about whether anyone else remembered your birthday or not? Stevie was here for you, and he was all you ever needed. He was your everything. You loved him. Only him. 

[introvertguide]

Abuse of Children Portrayed in Film

I like to use movies as an escape from the harshness of the real world and one of the things that I have learned about in my education is the effects on children when they are mistreated. I have a Masters Degree in Developmental Psychology and one of the hardest classes for me to handle was Abnormal Development in Children and Adolescents. We covered everything from dealing with dyslexia and ADHD to surviving severe abuse and loss at a very early age. We had guest speakers that ranged from people who had escaped genocide as children, to individuals who had been sold into prostitution by their parents, to people who had suffered severe abuse from their parents or guardian. I have heard stories that will stick with me forever and that is nightmare fuel that I don't want to share.

Because of my background education, I take note of the treatment and behavior of children and adolescents in the movies that I watch. There have been many great movies over the years that have depicted the suffering of children and it has always been difficult for me to deal with. There are more well known examples of films that focus on suffering but throw in more of a "sometimes we all suffer, even the children" message that demonstrate that kids aren't immune to great travesties (basically any film about The Holocaust). There are also well known films that show children "coming of age" through hardship (Annie 1982, Oliver! 1968) but end perfectly. There is a more current series of films that focuses entirely on a boy discovering a fantasy world that was robbed from him when his parents were murdered by a tyrant (Harry Potter series). But in this list I want to review some lesser known films that show examples of abuse. Even after all that I have seen and heard, the following list of films have affected me personally for one reason or another. Sometimes the children in these films endure and overcome their situation in the end. Sometimes these children do not survive or sadly remain in their misfortunes. To me, this can make the movie all the more powerful because of the incredible amount of pathos that endangering a child character can add. It can also make it a heart wrenching experience that is painful to watch. Here are some powerful films in which children suffer and the struggle is one of the main plot lines of the movie:

SPOILER WARNING AND VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISORY!!! I AM GOING TO GIVE AWAY THE PLOT TO THESE FILMS AND IT SHOULD GO WITHOUT SAYING THAT SOME OF THE PLOTS ARE DISTURBING!!! EITHER WATCH THE FILM IF YOU DON'T WANT SPOILERS OR CHECK OUT THE FOLLOWING SUMMARIES IF YOU WOULD RATHER JUST HEAR WHAT HAPPENS SO YOU KNOW IF YOU WANT TO WATCH OR NOT!!!

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Sybil (TV Movie) 1976

I just recently saw this film after I had heard of the story in my abnormal development class almost 10 years ago. It is the story of a woman who developed multiple personalities to deal with a childhood in the care of an undiagnosed schizophrenic mother. The movie stars Sally Fields and is based on a true account of Shirley Ardell Mason and her treatment by psychologist Cornelia Wilbur. The acting in the film is overdramatic at times, but it definitely reminded me of some of the actual old videos of Shirley Mason and her sudden strange switches in personality when she was scared or anxious. Dr. Wilbur used hypnosis to actually introduce Mason to her alternate personalities and she was able to recognize her disassociative identity disorder and overcome it. It still hurts me to think that this person was mentally wounded so deeply by her parents that it basically shattered her into pieces in an effort to make sense of things.

Leon: The Professional 1994

I mention this film a lot because it is a heartwarming story of an assassin teaching a young orphan how to murder. It is the breakout role for Natalie Portman and it is just amazing. Leon is a "cleaner" that lives next door to an abusive and addictive family with a troubled girl named Mathilda. The father gets in trouble with the mob and some enforcers come by and slaughter most of the family while Mathilda is getting groceries. She returns during the massacre and realizes what is happening so continues next door and pleads for shelter. Leon takes her in and teachers her the trade and protects her from the men who want to finish her off. The movie was written and directed by Luc Besson and stars Jean Reno, Gary Oldman, and Natalie Portman. The suffering that this girl endures because of her parent's addictions hurts me, yet I have seen and enjoyed this film many times. I recommend watching when in the mood to be deeply affected by the trials of a little girl and the killer who protected her.

Kids 1995

This film came out when I was early in high school and bothered me greatly. It is a story by Harmony Korine, and one of his many attempts to capture the hopeless lives of unmotivated and unsupervised teens. These are young teens having unprotected sex, stealing money to do drugs, and attacking people in the park. I did not really go to these kinds of parties when I was that age (or ever really) and it has bothered me to think that adolescents would partake in this kind of behavior. It is hard for me to believe that these kids had the ability to mentally comprehend the consequences of their actions and some of the characters end up contracting HIV from each other. I would not recommend the film because it is a depressing day in the life that no youth should have.

Gummo 1997

I would not call this a good movie and I wouldn't really recommend it. It is another work by Harmony Korine and really details the depravity that can occur with unsupervised youths living in low socio-economic conditions. This movie is just depressing and motivated me to find something to motivate me into action. I got into both psychology and teaching, which has served me well for the past 20 years. It was this film that showed me how low the bar for quality of life could be, and I guess for that I am thankful. However, I still wouldn't recommend it.

Happiness 1998

This movie I didn't see right away but noticed it at the video store on many occasions. I final watched it when I was about 25 on the recommendation of a friend and one particular storyline greatly disturbed me. It is basically the story of 3 sisters that feel they should be happy and project a face of happiness, yet they are miserable and have horrible lives. One sister in particular is married to a psychiatrist who turns out to be a pedophile that rapes the friends of his young son. At one point rather early on in the movie, this man confesses to his son that he raped the boy's friends and that he would do it again. The son is so confused that he asks his father why he never raped him. It is so disturbing to me because I know the boys that were assaulted will be forever damaged and this boy who was not actually raped will be mentally scarred as well. The fact that there are people in the world that would harm children that way, recognize what they had done, and then know they didn't have the self control to stop themselves from doing it again is horrifying to me.

Lilya 4-Ever 2002

This film is deeply disturbing and I highly recommend never watching it. I will spoil it for you now so you never have to see it if you don't want. A 16-year-old girl named Lilya lives with her mother. The mom gets a boyfriend and the couple move to America and abandons Lilya with a neglectful aunt. The aunt movies into the old apartment of her sister and Lilya is forced to move out and become a prostitute to make money. A boy comes along and convinces her to move to Sweden to escape her life. When they arrive, this boy sells her to a pimp and she becomes a teenage sex slave. She almost escapes, but is then captured and beaten almost to death. She escapes again and this time commits suicide so she won't be recaptured. This movie is awful and changed my mind about giving every film a chance. I wish I could forget this film, but I can't. Perhaps it is just not for me, but this film presentation is definitely an experience that you won't soon forget.

The Kite Runner 2007

I read this book in my twenties and saw the film in my thirties and both affected me greatly. A well-to-do boy and his friend are in a kite battle competition and the friend is beaten and raped when he goes to retrieve a fallen kite. The well-to-do boy denies knowing what happened to his friend (he does know) and basically shames and abandons him. This action haunts the well-to-do boy for the rest of his life. How the boy who was raped is basically falling prey to blaming the victim is heartbreaking, and the lifetime of guilt of the other boy is pitiable. Neither boy was the actual attacker yet they both were the ones that suffered.

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There are many other examples of movies along these lines and could be found if you feel like suffering. I can't say that I would recommend them because they are very difficult to watch. Beyond just dealing with the content, it is rare to find child actors who can actually portray somebody who has truly suffered. The mix of bad acting and a depressing plot can make for a terrible movie going experience. The genre of movie involving suffering does exist, though, and it could be enjoyed (?) by some. Just not generally by me.

[dollslayer]

Botanical Interest - Thorns

Soft!Mob!Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: After dating the notable mobster Steve Rogers for a couple months you think you’ve got him figured out. An altercation in an alley leaves you questioning whether or not that’s true. 

W/C: 1995

Warnings: Violence, angst, fluff, swearing

A/N: Holy smokes! I am completely overwhelmed by the love that the first part to this story has received. Obviously, I couldn’t help myself so I wrote a part 2 also as an entry for @stargazingfangirl18 ‘s 5k soft dark challenge! Using the Mob!Au and the dialogue prompt “Oh, Honey, you weren’t supposed to see that”.

If you want you can check out part one here and my other mob fic here! Cheers!

Botanical Interest Masterlist I Main Masterlist

______________________________ 6pm was fast approaching as you began to close up shop for the day. Steve was here to pick you up for dinner and much to your embarrassment walked in on you having a very difficult conversation argument with a very difficult customer over pricing and promotion. Having run your small business on your own for years you knew how to hold your own but you completely froze when you saw Steve enter the shop out of the corner of your eye. 

“I- listen Mr. Andersen, I appreciate all the business that your venues have given me but I can’t afford a raise in advertising prices right now. I’ve been reliable and trustworthy and I’ve always treated your venues with respect. I’ve never been an issue for you, please don’t raise the rate. Wedding season is coming up and I need the exposure.” 

You tried to bargain with him quietly, hoping the music overhead would prevent Steve from hearing but it was a low volume and a small shop. You’ve only been dating for a couple months. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him, especially not at work. 

Mr. Andersen exhaled sharply. You could tell he was annoyed at you for the pushback. “Look, I’m sorry but we can’t be making exceptions every time a business owner comes groveling.” 

Tears stung your eyes, you really did generate a lot of business through Andersen’s venues. They listed you as one of their recommended vendors to their clients, it’s been huge for you. Knowing that Steve was there made this even worse. “If I’d have known you were going to cry like this I would’ve just done it over email I mean really-”

“That’s enough.” Steve cut him off before he could humiliate you any further. He sent a quick text and shoved his phone back in his pocket before pulling himself to his gull height and squaring his shoulders. “You’ve done enough, now get out.”

A scoff from Andersen and a harsh glare directed towards you and he was on his way out of the building. Steve’s phone vibrated but he didn’t check it. Instead he walked over to you and extended his arm to rub your back. 

“Are you okay? That guy was a total fucking prick to you, you don’t deserve that.” Steve consoled you. He seemed calmer than you expected for having just witnessed something like that. You’ve seen him agitated but never upset. Maybe he was restraining himself for you but it didn’t matter, you appreciate him being there for you. 

“I’m fine, I just need to finish closing up shop and we can get to dinner. Just give me a minute” you said as you began to sweep up. 

“Alright, sweetheart. I’m double parked so I’m gonna go to the car and try to find a space.” You nodded as hummed along to the music. 

____________________________

As Steve left the shop he pulled his phone out and checked his text from Thor ‘we got him’. When Steve heard that man talk to you like that he knew you didn’t want him to threaten Andersen and make the situation worse. You were already on the verge of tears so he decided to ask one of his men to hold Andersen out back where he could have a few words with him. 

Stepping around the corner into the alley behind your shop he took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He needed to be quick so you wouldn’t find out. He didn’t want to upset you further, he just wanted this guy to know that you can’t treat his girl like that. And maybe he could be talked into giving her the advertising for free.

“So you think you can talk to my girl like that huh?” He questioned. Andersen looked like Thor had already punched him once in the process of restraining him. Thor’s hold on Andersen’s arms tightened. 

Andersen was scared, but not scared enough to Steve’s liking. Before Andersen had the opportunity to answer Steve cocked his fist back and launched it directly to Andersen’s jaw. “Shit! I’m sorry, I didn’t know. We’re expanding and we need the money so I have to raise-”

Before the excuse could be finished Steve hit him again. “Stop! Please!” Andersen begged.

Steve chuckled. “No I don’t think I will. I can’t just let people go every time they grovel to me. They’d never learn.” Another punch landed. 

“You’re not gonna raise your prices for her. In fact, you’re gonna call her up in a couple days and apologize by offering her advertising free of charge for all of your venues. Do you understand?” Steve asked coolly. 

Andersen coughed up some blood. “I- I can offer her half price but I can’t just waive the cost like that!”

“Not good enough.” Steve punched him even harder, Andersen was nearly knocked out. Steve thought about the tears that slipped from his girl’s eye and couldn’t stop himself. He struck Andersen one more time with a growl and his head hung limp between his shoulders. Just then he heard the sound of shattering glass behind him and froze, hand still in a fist. 

_____________________________________

Finally done with most of your tasks all you had to do was take out the garbage and empty the vase of leftover stems from bouquets into the dumpster. You opened the back door just in time to see Steve land a brutal punch to Mr. Andersen’s cheekbone. Mr. Andersen’s head fell and it was clear he had been knocked out cold. 

You hadn’t even realized you’d dropped the vase until you felt the shards fall around your feet. You couldn’t look away when Steve looked up at you with wild eyes, you’d never seen him so angry. You felt the way you did the day you met him. Nervous and frozen in place.

His face instantly fell and through his heavy breathing said “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.” He was trying to relax his features as he approached you but you could only take steps back and into the shop like a scared animal being cornered. 

Your heart was hammering in your chest and you couldn’t tell if you were more angry or scared. You held your hands out in front of you and stammered “I’d better.. I need to lock up shop I’ll um, I’ll go”. “Sweetheart wait!” Too late. You shut the back door and locked it behind you. 

You went to your back office and sat down, not even sure where to go from here with this. You two had talked about his work a bit, it wasn’t like it could be avoided forever, you just didn’t think he’d bring it into yours. You weren’t scared of Steve doing something like that to you, you were scared of that look in his eyes. His capability of doing something like that with little thought.

Oh, God, what does this mean for the shop? Mr. Andersen will have you blacklisted. He’ll tell every wedding planner in Brooklyn. Now your heart was hammering for a whole other set of reasons. Too busy spiraling as you thought about it all you didn’t hear the bell of the front door ring. 

A knock on your open office door pulled you out of it and you looked up to find Steve. He wore what looked like a truly regretful expression on his face. You fought the urge to yell at him. You’re an adult, you’re going to talk about this like adults. Let him say his piece. 

He had straightened up, his hands were clean and his jacket was back on. He gave a heavy sigh. “Sweetheart, I don’t even know where to begin. I’m sorry you had to see that side of me, but I want you to know I would never ever do anything like that to you or anyone close to you. I only want what’s best for you.”

“And that’s punching one of my main sources of income?” You snapped. You appreciated the apology but you were getting too worked up in anger thinking about the future of the shop.

He was a little miffed at the outburst and became defensive. “That man disrespected you, disrespected your work. No one talks like that to my girl. That’s how we settle things in my world!” 

“Well you’re not in your mob world right now you’re in mine! And things don’t get handled like that! Do you have any idea the toll that could take on my business? He’s gonna have me blacklisted by the end of the day if he wakes up.” The last words came out a bit broken as you felt more tears build. You were more worried about the business than anything. 

Steve walked around the desk to console you just like he had not twenty minutes ago. He gently put a hand on your forearm. “You’re right. It’s not my world, it wasn’t my call to make and I had no right to react like that. I didn’t even think about that. The way he was talking to you, I just.. I got so mad. You work so hard and you don’t deserve that. Sometimes I forget there’s more than one way to handle things.”

Okay, that went better than expected. This is what made Steve so interesting to you. Steve was funny and sweet and charming as hell, but beyond all that there was this tender heart. He was dangerous but he was also fiercely loyal. He was more than a mobster and he was better than the brute force he used. It’s why you were able to accept that part of him, because it wasn’t his entire life, it didn’t consume him.

“Thank you for saying that,” You said quietly. You looked up to him and could tell that he really did feel bad. “I accept your apology and I appreciate it. But you have to make things right with Mr. Andersen. I’ll pay the new rate but you have to apologize before it’s too late.”

_________________________

Steve was beginning to harbor resentment towards himself for fucking this up for you. Andersen just made him see red, he has such a hard time shutting that part of himself down. You work so hard and care so much there’s just no way he could let that stand. He just hoped to work through it and move on. He really didn’t wanna screw it up.

Steve was much more at ease knowing you accepted his apology. “I won’t like it but I can do that. It’s only fair. Can I make it up to you over dinner? We’ll make a quick stop to the hospital to set things straight with Andersen.” When you shut the door in his face in the alley he had Thor take him to the hospital. He’d call another town car to get home. 

He’ll apologize to Andersen and pay the hospital bill, but you’re not paying the increased rate. No way. Steve will pay him off enough that he won’t be telling anyone about the altercation, either. Win-win in his eyes.

You leaned your head against his shoulder in slight exhaustion and nodded. “Can we forget the reservation? I really want breakfast food right now.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “Of course sweetheart, you wanna get takeout and go back to mine?” He felt you nod. “Yes, please”. 

“Let me just order a car and we’ll be on our way. I’m sorry again, sweetheart, I promise I’m gonna make it right even if that guy’s a douche.” You laughed a little bit and wiped the few tears that stayed in your eyes.

“So.... your girl, huh? Is that like some mob slang term I don’t know about? Are we official?”

A smile graced his lips. “I’d like to be, if you would.” 

You smiled back at him. “I might be persuaded with waffles.” 

[real-bjd-recast-community]

For your enjoyment, after all, it's spooky October! 🎃

Full movie: (eng sub)

The dolls for the movie were "Custom House (AI)", a now defunct company (they closed due to bad comercial management a long time before the first recast), they even had a special order for Mina and Demian, the two main BJD characters in the movie.

They weren't the coolest thing ever sculpted, but it added to the fact that you could literally have a character from the movie.

SPOILERS FROM THIS POINT ON:

This is a good movie with a moderate budget from 2004. Don't expect "Avengers Endgame", that being said, it's a good movie, but has around 3 or 4 underlying plots at the same time and things can get confusing, specially on all that's lost in translation between korean to english.

It's the type of movie you'll have to watch at least twice to get all the simultaneous plots. So if you watched the movie once and didn't got something, come back and read this post.

🎃 AGAIN, LAST CHANCE, SPOILERS FROM THIS POINT ON 🎃

I'll be telling what is going on in the order plots are introduced to the audience.

1st Plot, "the woman in red kimono":

Long ago, a guy falls in love with a woman who wears a red kimono (I know, all the movie, actors and dolls are from South Korea, but for some reason they didn't went down with traditional Korean clothing, and yes, it's a Japanese red kimono, Volks JP was still the main image for BJDs back then, and all BJDs were referred mostly as "japanese dolls", so I guess the story it's supposed to be happening in Japan?).

To prove his love to her, the guy sculpts a 1/1 scale real human sized doll from the woman as a gift to her. - The woman it's overjoyed and start dating the guy. What they didn't knew was that all the love the guy put into making the doll had gave (the doll) life of it's own, and (the doll) was inlove with the guy who created her. - So, (the doll), started hating the woman in the red kimono until one day such woman appeared dead. - No one in the village knew "who was responsible for the murder", so an angry mob blamed the guy dating her and brutally killed him. The guy was beaten to almost death and buried alive on an unmarked grave in the woods, but the doll saw it all and rested on top of the grave wishing only to be with the guy.

A LONG time passed, and a couple (an artist and her husband) found the doll in the woods. As the woman though she could restore the huge human size doll, she brought it back to an abandoned church on the woods (that they had purchased since the church was never finished and turned it into an "art museum" of sorts). - The more the woman worked on the restoration of the doll, the more this vengeful doll took over her, eventually possessing the woman's body entirely.

Now, there's a part of the plot we're not actually explained as to what happened (the woman it's now on a wheelchair and her husband has one eye white? so I guess there was a nasty fight at some point?), but the husband of the woman realized that the doll they found in the woods had possessed his wife, and thought that the only way to "free his wife soul" was to kill her; While the brother of the woman (the now "curator" of the art museum), had made a deal with the doll possessing his sister, as the doll told him she only wanted revenge for the death of the guy she loved and was murdered by the town people long-long ago, finding the real killer and making a doll at the image of the guy so the two could live forever as...a doll couple? I guess?, But that once she had killed all the descendants of the people who had murder the innocent guy all those years ago, the doll promised to leave the body of the "woman/artist/sister/wife". - So having different points of view about how to deal with the situation, the brother of the possessed woman locked up her husband in the basement in an attempt to force him to sculpt the guy-doll from an old picture; and continue to track the descendants of the original killers of the guy who was wrongly accused by the murderer of the woman in the red kimono, as well as the descendant of the actual killer. - The lure was a photoshoot reference for an artist (the woman possessed by the doll) to make new sculptures of BJDs. - Young people who have nothing to do with each other are called to the house/church/"art museum" in the woods for a weekend of pictures. And that is the point where basically the movie starts.

From this point on, we follow the story of "Park Hae-Mi" (a free spirited artist who is a bit too much of a "I don't believe in spiritual things and I'm not careful with anything), the average perv photographer, the cheerful and childish girl obsessed with western stuff, the quiet shy girl who has a doll on her own (we'll be back to that) called "Jung Young-ha", and a guy who actually wasn't invited (as the rest of the crew), called "Lee Tae-seung" who is actually a cop undercover as a model following the strange murder that had occurred in the area (also that descendant of the actual killer of the woman in the red kimono, his grandfather, a cop) - They also get introduced to all by the "curator of the art museum" (the church), called "Choi Jin-Wan", who's actually working for the spirit of the doll who possessed his sister, "the artist".

And the plot develop as expected from that point on, people appear dead, dolls move, undercover cop trying to get evidence, finally only a couple are left (the main protagonist ("Park Hae-Mi") and the (now released from the basement) husband of the woman possessed by the first doll.

2nd Plot, "Mina & Park Hae":

Mina it's first introduced as a shy girl who lives there and wears a red dress with a blouse (long white sleeves). She seems to be trying to get closer to Park Hae recalling they already knew each other, but each time gets "spooked" by someone else around and disappears. - What we later found out it's that the "human Mina" it's a physical manifestation of the spirit of a BJD that Park Hae had as a little girl.

Now, in the setting of the movie, after a human loves a doll or protects it in an act of love, a spirit might enter the doll spontaneously through their glass eyes, and the only way to stop such spirit it's to rip off the head of the doll and then destroy the eyes with something sharp. If a doll that's been manifesting as a human gets his/her/their "doll form" destroyed, they die in human and doll form equally.

Even though if Mina has been working for the evil murder doll that possessed the woman in charge of the house, Mina it's only doing it because she's been fooled to think that if she kills the others, Park Hae will be spared from death. So, while Mina does kills people in some cases, it's only because she thinks it's the only way to keep her former owner safe.

The story between Park Hae and Mina started long ago when Park was a little girl. She was gifted with a BJD (Mina), and one day, while playing in the street, a motorcycle almost run over Mina, so little Park Hae saves her at the last minute, resulting in Park getting her arm severely hurt, with a huge scar for life. In that moment, a spirit looking for love and care enters the doll (Mina), and although they seem inseparable at first, young Park Hae eventually gets tired of Mina because "it's an old doll", and toss Mina out of the window while her mom isn't watching, so Park Hae can ask for "a newer doll" (spoiled brat!).

Mina it's lost about why her human owner doesn't want her anymore, and somehow (not explained by the movie) it's found an brought to the church/art museum, where she'll later on cross paths with Park Hae again, who's now a grown up woman and doesn't even remember that she ever had a doll as a child (thing that hurts Mina's feelings, obviously).

At the end of the movie, although Mina it's mad at Park Hae for ditching her, and was convinced by the other dolls that humans deserve to die (because they'll never love their dolls), as she (Mina) prepares to attack Park Hae, sees the scar on Park's arm from the day she saved her, and turns against the "bad possessed lady doll", who ends up destroying Mina's BJD form, therefore killing her as she faints into nothingness in front of Park Hae.

3rd Plot, "Damien & Jung Young":

As doll, as human, this odd pair of what we can perceive as "siblings" have not much explained on screen time, but are pretty important to comprehend a big deal of the asian ideas about dolls being alive and humans interacting with them don't being always negative (as for western movies from Chucky to Annabelle, "all dolls are necessarily bad").

Damien (the BJD) was (as put in her words) adopted for her (Jung Young) by her father when she was little. This is an asian concept that was popularized in the western by the early 00's, as BJDs weren't seen as a purchase, but as an adoption. - Jung Young and Damien have been together for their whole life, and while all other BJDs in the house hate humans for their own reasons, Demian it's extremely possessive and caring of her human owner (although, sadly, not a match for the other dolls, as he's "killed" defending Jung Young).

During the movie we see Jung Young apparently "hearing" Damien "talk to her" about information she couldn't have known beforehand (like Mina and Park past), and, felling something was not right from the start (and this might be the reason why the other dolls disposed of him). - Although Jung it's seen as "odd" and "shy" (or "extra obsessive careful"), her behavior it's seen as the definition of the ""crazy doll lady"" by the other characters. We must remember that her strong bonding to Damien allowed her to know she (and everyone) were in danger since they arrived at the church/house/art museum. Therefore I really get poor Jung Young trying to get others from shaking Damien like a pillow, or sitting on top of him, and at the same time knowing they're in danger. - There's even a scene where Park Hae "sits" on a bed, hurting a bit Damien legs, although Jung reacts fast. Later on, other dolls in the room attack Jung mentally until she gets a seizure and falls down to the floor, Park sees Damien and pick him up to place him with his (still unconscious) owner, but Damien returns the "you sit on me!" favor by pinching Park in the hand, therefore giving an idea of how intelligent and what sort of personality Demian has when he (or his human) gets wronged.

This might be my favorite two characters from all the movie, and I do feel bad for them. 🥺

🎃 There's a couple more plots, but this are the ones you need to get in order to understand the situation presented in the movie, that ends in the idea of how disposable things are for people, and what might happen if those things had fellings for us, like a twisted version of ToyStory but with BJDs.

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

Dad!Mob!Tom Holland x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x reader, Parker Holland x Charlotte Owens

-Warnings: Language, Blood, Death, Fighting

-Words: 3.6K

Author note: I really love this chapter. I love all the comments and would appreciate nice constructive criticism (please don't butcher my work lol) if you want. Feel free to leave in the comments or message me directly your feelings while reading the chapter :))

Chapter 3: A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

Word: 3.6K

“Haz are you okay mate?” Tom asked, seeing Haz freak out, they were about to land at Heathrow, on their way back from Dublin.

“No, I just heard from my neighbor that Henry never came home last night. With everything that happened yesterday, I’m just worried. I hope he is not lying in a ditch somewhere.” Harrison explained.

“He probably crashed at ours, everything will be ok.” You said as you comforted Haz. Oh boy, were you wrong.

Back at home, Parker awoke to his impending death once you and Tom, his parents’, find out what happened to their beautiful mansion. One party did all this damage. The curtains were torn down, there was red party cups everywhere and all the liquor bottles were displayed on the table. One amazingly epic party did all that.

“Bloody hell! That’s it I’m dead. I’m dead. I will never be allowed to leave this house ever again.” Parker said to himself. Picking up his phone he noticed 4 missed calls from you. Each one had a message and if there was one thing he knew about you is that you only left more harsh and frantic voice messages the more you called.

He only played the most recent one, you sounded really peeved “PARKER JACKSON HOLLAND! Please call me, I’m worried about you. I can’t get in touch with the staff either. I will be home in 20 mins, you better have a good fucking explanation for everything.” Parker’s eyes nearly flew out of his head when he saw that was sent 15 mins ago. Any moment now he would hear the Rolls pulling into the driveway.

The poor kid could only move so fast, he quickly gathered the liquor bottles and threw them into a plastic trash bag along with all the red solo cups that seem to be multiplying. All the meanwhile corralling all the squatters, from last night, who crashed there. He found some people by the pool and others passed out in the dining room. Running like a madman through the house, he caught a glimpse of what would be the reason for his demise. The door to Tom’s office was open. He swore to god he locked it, someone must’ve broken in. They could’ve taken anything, all the information about the mob was stored in that one tastefully decorated room. Parker quickly shut the door and hoped nothing would happen, he couldn’t live with himself if this one stupid party cost his family their livelihood.

“Rosie? Henry? Where are you guys? Mum and dad will be home any minute, I need your help.” Parker called out throughout the house. He didn’t expect Rosie to show up because of their fight last night, but where the fuck was Henry.

You and Tom pulled up along with Harrison in the black Rolls Royce, coming to a screeching halt. You all walked along the cobble stone path to the two large, intimidating front doors. You all simultaneously freaked out when you saw the door was ajar. Tom and Haz pulled out their guns and made it a priority to keep you safe by shoving you behind them. You all had no idea what you could be walking into.

Tom whispered to Haz to split up, Haz took the East Wing while Tom checked the main rooms. Rounding the corner he could her footsteps.

“Darling, stay behind me. I don’t want you getting hurt,” Tom whispered and you nodded in response.

“On the count of 3. 1, 2, 3,” Tom screamed as he jumped out, holding his gun straight ahead. He found his son disheveled, carrying grocery bags filled with empty beer cans and liquor bottles.

“DON’T SHOOT! DON’T SHOOT! Holy fuck! Dad is that you?” Parker screamed, dropping the bags to the ground, glass shattering and raising his hand up in innocence. Scared for his life her quickly caught his breath when he realized who it was.

“Parker, what the hell? Why the fuck was the door opened…. wait? Did you have a party!?!” Tom thundered as he realized what his son did. His voice gradually growing more furious. Parker just stood there with a shameful look on his face.

“Mum, dad. How was Dublin?” Parker sneaked to quickly change the subject.

“Don’t try to get out this, explain now!” You scolded, just as furious as Tom

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did it, I just needed to blow off steam.” “What the fuck do you think a sorry is going to do? I run a fucking mob, Parker. Are you a fucking idiot? Parker, for fucks sake, anyone could have stolen some information from my office or gotten into the gun room. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I’m not that much of a div, I locked your office and I don’t know,” Parker explained.

“You’re not as dumb as I thought. Hope you were smart enough to lock the liquor cellar too,” Tom concluded.

“Yeah…about that,” Parker mumbled as Tom ran off to his liquor room. A loud clash and curse sounded throughout the house when he laid his eyes on his ransacked priceless collection.

“Mum, say something?” Parker pleaded with you as you just stood there in silence.

“2 months. You’re grounded for 2 months. No dates or parties, just school and home. I don’t think you understand how lucky you are that nothing serious happened here.” You said, your voice drenched with disappointment. “I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking about what dad and you asked me and —” Parker whispered as he was soon cut off by Haz walking in.

“Did you find Henry?” Haz interrupted.

“No, I’m going to check upstairs. Will you check on Tom?” Harrison nodded as you ascended the staircase. Making your way through the halls, coming upon Rosie’s room.

“Roo, honey you awake?” You said walking into Rosie’s room

“AHHHH! Oh my fucking god! Rosie!” You screamed at the sight in front of you. Your sweet, slightly bad tempered daughter asleep with a boy in her bed.

“Darling? You alright?” Tom yelled from downstairs after hearing your scream.

“Mum, what are you doing here?” Rosie exclaimed frantically.

“Hi, Y/N.” Henry whispered, praying he wasn’t going to be berated. You were a mother figure to him after his own mother left his father and never looked back. “This is my house and hi Henry. What the fuck is Henry doing here in you bed? What the fuck are you doing here?” You questioned bouncing between the two of them to get some answers.

“I can explain. But, firstly are you gonna tell dad?” Rosie inquired.

“The fact that he is already fuming downstairs, no. Not right now. And please explain, you have 5 seconds, but first you need to get Henry out of here.”

“Thank you mom, I just don’t —.“

“Ehh, eh, eh! Shut it, I’ll deal with you later,” you barked.

“Henry, I suggest you take the window and your dad is looking for you,” you said.

“Shit! Thanks Y/N… I mean Mrs. Holland” Henry said as you shot him a glare.

The moment Henry was in the clear, Tom barged in with his gun in hand. Someone needs to tell this man to put it down. All morning he has been traumatically scarring his kids for life, first with Parker and now Rosie.

“What? Is everyone all right? I heard a scream.” Tom exclaimed out of breath.

“Umm, yeah. I just saw a spider.” You stuttered.

“Oh love, you can kill a man in cold blood but can’t handle an itty bitty spider,” Tom joked as he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“You're afraid of them too, Thomas.” You quipped with a side eye. If looks could kill, yours definitely would.

“And for you missy, you’re grounded along with your brother.” Tom said, looking down on Rosie. “Me? What did I do?” Rosie asked in a high pitched voice. “You attended this party correct? And since this is also your house, you threw it by association. Am I right?” Tom inquired.

“I guess so,” Rosie huffed.

The twin’s exile was worse than they prepared for. Not only were they responsible for cleaning up the entire mess but they were given a list of chores to complete. This was no ordinary list. It was devised by you and Tom along with inputs from the maids and capos.

On it read:

Wash the Rolls

Clean the guns

Reorganize the pantry

Mow the lawn

Re-order all stolen liquor and stock the liquor room

Drain the pool, clean the pool, fill the pool back up again…

The list was never-ending. Each task more pointless than the next. It went on forever. The household staff was happy for their load was to be lessen for a couple weeks, unlike the kids. Harrison even forced Henry to partake in the chores.

The kids were only a couple days into their quarantine and were already going stir crazy. Parker was having withdrawals from Charlotte, missing her even more. The boy was whipped for her, really smitten. They would talk the night away. Some nights never getting any shut eye as their conversations would prolong hours.

Parker couldn’t believe this was where he was now. One night of unadulterated juvenile fun equated to 2 months of misery. Today was Charlotte’s birthday and he was supposed to take her to the London Eye on a surprise birthday trip, but all his plans were ruined the moment his parents came home and grounded his sorry ass.

“I can’t believe your parents grounded you. Assholes.” Charlotte said over the phone, fuming he couldn’t celebrate with her.

“I can’t go babe. I really wish I could but I’m grounded for life remember.” Parker said, the cold shoulder Tom and you had been giving him was killing him.

“Parker its my birthday. You have to come,” Charlotte pleaded

“There’s no chance in hell I’m allowed to leave.”

“Geez you just threw a party, it’s not like you killed someone,” Charlotte added. He might as well have. If he killed someone he wouldn’t be burdened with this punishment, probably praised instead, carrying on the family tradition.

“Just sneak out. Come on, we are all going to this nightclub downtown. It’s gonna be awesome. And I’m such a good girlfriend, I can’t let you miss it.” Charlotte pleaded.

“Alright, Char you wore me down.”

“I knew it. Pick you up at 11 tonight.”

“Park around the block, I’m going to have to climb out my window. Remember my house is like a fortress.” Parker said. He wasn’t lying.

Meanwhile, Tom was in and out of meetings in his office all day. He received one odd phone call in particular from his dad, Dominic Holland. “Hi dad, how are you” Tom said as he picked up the phone.

“I’m fine son, so how did the talk with Parker go. I’m excited to teach him all my mobster tricks,” Dom exclaimed. “Actually dad, he reacted like I did.”

“Oh well, he will come around just like you did” Dom said encouragingly.

“I don’t know if he will. Anyway it wouldn’t be so bad if he had his own path in life.” Tom murmured trying to stick up for his son’s decision.

“Tom, you know what will happen to this family if that happens,” Dom yelled.

“I know dad. I just don’t want him to feel trapped, like you did to me,” Tom exclaimed growing more annoyed by the minute.

“What I did to you got you to where you are today. Your life is thanks to me son and don’t you forget it,” Dom said with a stern, menacing voice.

“Understood sir,” Tom quipped. “Maybe Parker needs a push, in the right direction.” “Dad, I swear to god, don’t fucking do anything. Y/N and I are handling this” Tom yelled. “We’ll see how that turns out” Dom ended the phone call. Leaving Tom frustrated that his father sees him as his own puppet.

The night soon fell and Parker’s plan had been put into motion. He bribed a few of the Tom’s men with his allowance to let him sneak past. He jumped out the window, carefully walked on the roof as to not slip and make any noise. Finally on the ground, he scaled the iron fence to be met with Charlotte’s ice blue eyes. She was dressed in a pink party dress that hugged her figure perfectly.

“Wow princess, you look *chef’s kiss. Happy birthday baby,” Parker said while making his way back to the ground.

“Thanks doll. Now come on, before someone catches us,” she yelled whilst hopping into her silver Mercedes.

Arriving at the nightclub, everything was in full swing for 11 o’clock at night. Parker, Charlotte and her other friends were treated like royalty the moment Parker let his name slip.

“Right this way Mr. Holland and I will have someone bring you a bottle of champagne, on the house of course,” the hostess said as she sat them at their table.

“Oooo fancy, you should drop your name more often,” Charlotte whispered in Parker’s ear.

“Oh it was nothing, love.” Parker said while pouring himself and Charlotte a glass of bubbly. “Seriously Parker, how’d you do this? If I didn’t know any better I’d say your dad owned the club or something,” Charlotte said dumbfounded, causing Parker to choke on his champagne at her remark.

It was amazing what power could do. Having enough power to make your enemies disappear was unimaginable. Parker knew what turning down his father meant. He would have the name and the look of a Holland, but he wouldn’t be one anymore.

How could he give all that up. He enjoyed his cushy lifestyle. Sure it was day after day of worrying about your image but, he felt as though he belonged in that world. How could he go on being a kid for two more years knowing there was a metaphorical expiration date on his life.

He desperately wanted to want to be like them, his family. You, his mother, are the strongest person he knows. Having you in his life keeps him grounded, literally at the moment. Also his dad, Tom is a very loving and amazing father. He was there at all the football games (English football) cheering him on and at the spelling bees, also when he felt his first heartbreak, Tom was there.

Family has been the one constant in his life. Now it was being eclipsed by power, a power that could ruin lives or affect change. Turning his back on his family means they would never get see his future.

No one would be there at his graduation from college or when he first child was born, only Charlotte would be there. The girl he hoped to marry and have his kids. He couldn’t give up his future with her, no way. Parker eyes glanced at her, mesmerized by her beauty. He thought to himself, “This was it. This, she is all I’ll ever need, my princess.”

Most of Parker’s pet names for Charlotte were derived from Tom. He had heard his dad refer to his mother as: princess, queen, doll, darling, love. The list goes on. As long as Parker had his princess he knew he would be ok.

They danced the night away. Song after song. Feeling like the only two people in the room. Getting more drunk as the night progressed and other guests started to fizzle out. Leaving Charlotte and Parker alone on the dance floor.

“Char, I think it’s about time we head home. We are the only people left,”

Parker chuckled.

“Just two more songs please,” she muttered with her head nuzzled by his neck.

“It’s two hours til sunrise!” Parker exclaimed.

“Just a little while longer, I don’t want this moment to end.” “Me neither baby, I want to stay in your arms forever” Parker said. In a moment of love, coupled with champagne and a few tequila shots, Parker whispered, “We should get married.”

“What? Are you serious? Do you mean now or in like 5 years?” Charlotte asked as her voice slowly diminished

“Umm… yes and now. I love you,” Parker murmured. “YES! I will marry you!” Charlotte exclaimed pulling her boyfriend into a deep, passionate kiss. Parker’s dream was coming true and all he had to do was leave his family.

Just then a group of tall, stocky men, all dressed in black, funneled through the door of the club. They didn’t bother with sitting down, they just stood there blocking the only exit.

One of the men spoke up, “Parker Holland? I have a message for you.”

“Can’t it wait til morning, just tell him I’m sorry and he can ground me even longer,” Parker replied thinking the message was from Tom.

“It’s not that kind of message,” all the noise drifted away as the other man drew his gun. Both Charlotte and Parker grew tense at the sight of his pistol.

“Charlotte, get behind me,” Parker whispered, scared for both their lives.

“Boy, it’s not from your daddy,” said the leader of the men. “Do you know who my father is? He will have all of your heads if you so as much lay a finger on me,” Parker responded

“So the girl is up for grabs?” “Charlotte, RUN!” Parker Screamed

“Eh, not so fast. I’m going to enjoy this one.” The guy said, seizing Charlotte in his grip and motioning for this associates to grab Parker. Two arms holding Parker back from protecting Charlotte.

“LET GO OF ME! CHARLOTTE!”

“Why you hanging out this rift raft? I’m sorry but he needs to atone for his mistakes.” “Parker..” Charlotte whimpered.

“Such a pretty girl and such a waste” the man snickered as he pressed the gun into her abdomen. Tears slipped down her face as she felt the cool metal against her.

BANG

It was the shot heard round the room. Everything stood quiet as Charlotte collapsed to the floor. The leader of the men shouted he need a drink. “NOOOOO! ” Parker screamed as he was let go and raced to Charlotte’s side

“Hey, hey, baby look at me. Look at me,” Parker said as tears flooded down his face.

“I’m sorry, we should’ve left.” Charlotte whispered with labored breaths while blood poured out of her wound. “Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Parker cried while rubbing his thumb on her cheek. Blood pooled around them and he could only be focused on one thing, the love of his life dying in his arms. “Parker, it hurts so much,” Charlotte cried. The pain was mind-numbing. Threatening the life inside her.

“I know, love. Just keep your eyes on me love, keep’em open”

“I’m so tired Parker… I want my last words to you to be I love you. I love you ok? So much.” she whispered, then broke into a coughing fit. Blood filling her mouth and running down her chin, scaring Parker.

“Don’t, don’t fucking start that now you, hear me. You’re gonna be fine, we’re gonna get married and have kids and grow old together,” Parker exclaimed as her eyes threatened to shut.

“You said yes, Char. You have to be okay. You said yes. I asked you to marry me and you said yes.” Parker cried as tears refused to stop coming. Charlotte’s eyes growing more and more to a close.

“Please, don’t leave me baby. Charlotte don’t leave me. Don’t fucking close your eyes. You hear me. Don’t.” And with that, the hand Parker held so close to his heart was limp. Her eyes had closed and heart stopped beating. She was gone.

“No! No, no no, hey hey hey, come on, come on baby stay with me. Stay with me please.”

“Wake up, darling. Please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Just come back to me baby. , I need you,” Parker whimpered. He burst into a fit of sobs and hugged her close to his body, not wanting to let her go because then it all became real.

The woman who changed his life, no longer walked this earth. The love of his life was gone. All the bubbling life inside of her, vanished like it had never existed in the first place. Parker’s demeanor flipped like a switch. His sadness became infused with anger, he was out for blood.

“You bastards! Why did you do that? She had nothing to do with this?” Parker thundered as blood coated his knuckles. “I’m sorry kid, but it had to be done” The leader spoke.

In a fit of rage, Parker grabbed the empty champagne bottle and smashed it over one of the guy’s heads, knocking the muscular guy unconscious.

“Big mistake, kid. Thought you were smarter than that.” The leader said as he stood in front of Parker and delivered him a swift punch to the jaw, flooring Parker.

“She really wasn’t enough of a message? Want her death to be in vain?” He spat as he kicked Parker in the stomach.

Several kicks followed, two more to the stomach, one to the groin and one final blow to the head, demobilizing Parker. He laid on the ground coughing up blood, trying to gather enough strength to get home.

He looked once more over to the girl he had loved, lifeless with a whole in stomach, knowing if it weren’t for him she would still be alive. Charlotte was the only thing on his mind as he succumbed to all the pain and everything faded to darkness.

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas Series Masterlist

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort

[thran-duils]

Doll Me Up (P.9)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Nine) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 2,991 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior, drug use

Author’s Note: I apologize if the tags haven’t been working. I was using the new beta editor but I’ve switched back to traditional! BTW, I think I am coming up to the close on the fic soon! Just a head’s up.

Part Eight || Part Ten || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

~A month ago…

You heard someone walk into the living room and you peeked out from your cocoon of blankets you had set up for yourself, curled up on the couch, watching tv. Happy cocked an eyebrow seeing you, his eyes running over the seltzer water and all the blankets.

“Are you okay?” he questioned.

“I don’t feel great,” you said, taking another sip of your water. You wished Tony was home, but he had gone on a business trip. Happy had stayed behind to keep an eye on you. Tony trusted him more than any of his other men to make sure you were kept safe in his absence.

“Do you need to go to the doctor?” Happy asked concerned.

You shrugged, “I’m just nauseous. I don’t think it’s anything serious. I might have eaten something bad.”

Happy did not look convinced. “Tell me if it gets worse. And I’ll get you an appointment.”

Nodding, you picked your water back up and took another drink, hoping the carbonation would help settle your stomach. You did not even bother to tell Tony later around dinner time when he called to check in, brushing it off.

It subsided later in the day and you thought you were in the clear until the next morning – very early, 4:00am – it hit again. Groaning, you could not ignore the swirling and you got out of bed, rubbing at your eyes.

FRIDAY set on the baseboard lights as you walked downstairs to guide your way.

You opened the bag of bread and took a slice out, stuffing it into your mouth as you closed the bag back up. Taking a large bite, you chewed slowly. Maybe you were having acid reflux and the bread would help soak it up.

You meandered, swallowing the first bite, as you approached the door to the patio. You laid your hand on it and it unlocked for you. Stepping outside, you inhaled the fresh air deeply. That made you feel slightly better.

<><><>

In Berlin, Tony’s watch beeped. He looked away from the table where he was having a late lunch with a fellow boss and their crew that was helping him secure capital in the city. FRIDAY was alerting him that Y/N had activated the system to go outside. His face screwed up in confusion, calculating quickly what time it was back home in Malibu. It would be a little after 4:25am.

“Excuse me, would you?” Tony asked and the other boss nodded, taking a drink of their beer. Tony slipped his tablet out of his bag as he left the table.

Walking away from the table, he moved towards the balcony overlooking the city. Holding the tablet up, he accessed the cameras at home, pulling up the outside cameras since she had left to the patio. He was on edge, wondering what the hell she was doing outside so early.

She was just sitting in one of the chairs, eating a piece of bread, which only served to confuse him more. But at least she was there; she had not run off.

He watched her for a few moments before movement by the door caught his eye and he saw Happy step outside.

“Good man,” Tony said under his breath, knowing FRIDAY would have alerted Happy too in the guest room he was in per Tony’s programming. He would have been severely disappointed if Happy had not come outside to check on her.

The two of them were speaking and Tony did not miss the concerned look on Happy’s face.

Suddenly, Y/N jerked forward, vomiting all over the cement, barely missing Happy’s slippers much to Tony’s shock. Was she hung over? That would explain the bread.

Happy came closer and his hand came to her back, steadying her as she leaned over the side of the chair. He was speaking quickly to her and she shook her head, and he shook his right back at her. Tony watched Happy settle her back and hold up a hand to her, before he went back towards the door, leaving her out there.

When he came back out, he had some napkins and some water. She shook her head at the water and he forced it towards her.

“Looks like someone had a little too much fun last night,” Tony said to himself before closing the camera. He had no further reason to be concerned about it; it looked like Happy had it perfectly under control.

Which is why when he had just got sat back down at the table, his cell phone started to ring. The other boss laughed at his expense, making a comment about him being a busy man. Tony apologized and checked his watch, seeing it was Happy. He excused himself again quickly and got up.

“What?” Tony asked. “I just got sat down at the table.”

“I’m gonna make an appointment for Y/N. Where do you want her to go?” Happy cut in immediately.

“What? What for?”

“She doesn’t feel good.”

“Yeah, I saw. Got a good view of that vomit. How much did she have to drink last night?”

“Nothing. She didn’t drink anything,” Happy told him, surprising Tony. “She didn’t feel well yesterday either and I told her to tell me if it got worse. Did she tell you when she spoke to you on the phone last night?”

“No. What do you mean she’s not feeling well?”

“Nausea she said. Maybe she has a stomach bug, I don’t know. But food poisoning doesn’t generally last two days.”

Tony rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Um, just take her to my guy. She’s on my insurance plan. She’s been to him before.”

“Not the ER?”

“You think it’s an ER type of situation?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, throwing up usually isn’t an ER thing but I don’t know.”

“Did she throw up yesterday?”

“No, not that I know of.”

“No other symptoms?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” Tony said to himself more than anything. He pondered on it and tapped the railing as he weighed the options. Something came to him then and he straightened up. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought more about it.

“Boss?”

Shaking his head, Tony cleared his throat, “You know, no. On second thought, no. No doctor or ER.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m heading back tonight. You know, if she starts showing other symptoms, take her to the doctor. My guy. But I think she’ll be fine.”

Happy said slowly, “Um, alright…”

“Morning sickness, Hap. Not to get too excited about it yet but… fits the bill.”

“Oh,” Happy said and Tony could hear the realization peaking in his voice. “Right.”

“So, just keep an eye on her. I’ll be on the plane soon and then I’ll just stop on the way home at the pharmacy. Get a test,” Tony said, feeling lighter about the situation. “Order her some 7-Up or something, soups. Just keep her comfortable for me, yeah?”

“You got it,” Happy confirmed.

<><><>

“We have lunch plans, but Tony is taking forever,” you told Steve as the two of you boarded the elevator to go down further into the building.

Anticipation was nipping at your heels; you had not explored this part of the building yet. Steve had come to speak to Tony but when he was told by Angelica that Tony was busy, he was quick to brush off needing to see him. He just needed to go downstairs to pick something up. You had practically thrown down the magazine you were pretending to read, asking if you could come with. He had been polite and courteous, telling you he would love the company. Angelica looked like she wanted to say something, but you purposely ignored her, walking by and following Steve.

“Oh? Where are you going for lunch?” Steve asked interested.

“This place Pepper suggested. Mario’s. Up in the Bronx.”

“Never been.”

“I trust her opinion. She seems to know what she’s talking about.”

“That she does,” Steve smiled back.

“What are you doing here though?” you inquired, switching gears.

“I need another set of batteries for one of my weapons.”

“You couldn’t go to the store?” you asked confused.

Steve chuckled, throwing you an amused look. “No, they’re special batteries.”

“Oh…”

Steve immediately noticed your embarrassment and he quickly said, “Not like you would know that. That’s something I would think too. But the batteries are special. What you said was logical.”

Logical. Not an adjective you heard attributed to you often. Maybe never.

The elevator door opened, and you hesitated seeing the men standing guard outside it but Steve strode out, unperturbed by them. You followed him, catching up to his long strides.

“Why did you want to come down here though besides Tony taking too long?” Steve asked, eyeing you curiously as the pair of you walked.

“One, I was bored as you can imagine, waiting for him to finish whatever he was doing. And two, Tony didn’t let me see anything except his office or the boardroom since I’ve been here. Said it wasn’t important for me to see it. But I want to.”

“Hmm,” Steve said shooting you a look. “You think you should be down here then?”

“I don’t see why not. I can keep secrets well enough if that’s what everyone is worried about.”

Steve’s lips curled into a soft smile at that, his eyes running over you.

You were taking in all the people working, the technology they were using. It was like the garage back home where Tony worked but far, far more busy. It was a little overwhelming.

Steve was nodding at random people who greeted him in awe. He came to a stop in front of someone though standing behind a desk.

She looked up and smiled, recognizing him on sight. “That was quick, Cap.” He eyes turned to you and she faltered, “And…”

“Y/N. Tony’s wife,” Steve introduced you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you,” she apologized immediately. You took note that her bade said her name was Eva.

“How could you have? I’ve never been down here before,” you said, giving her a small reassuring smile.

She relaxed at your calm demeanor and turned to grab something off the desk behind her. Handing it to Steve, she told him, “So, there’s backups in there too so you don’t need to make another trip so soon.”

“Nice, that’s thoughtful. Thank you,” Steve commented.

“You’re going to want to update your system though. I’ll send you a link to do so on the secure network,” Eva went on explaining.

“Alright, I’ll figure it out.” Steve looked at you and said sheepishly, “Tech isn’t my strong point. I have gotten better though, so there’s hope.”

“I can’t keep up with Tony sometimes and I’ve been around technology my whole life. I mean, my whole house is a giant computer essentially,” you responded. “Could not even begin to explain to you how it works.”

“It’s complicated but it’s helpful right?” Eva asked lightheartedly. You nodded and she said, “I’ll be the first to admit I wouldn’t be able to keep up with how Mr. Stark talks about tech either. Could not even begin to fathom how his brain works. I swear he’s not speaking English sometimes when he’s giving presentations.”

You snorted, as did Steve. “I can attest to that,” Steve agreed. “I just let him lead when it comes to this type of stuff.”

You could relate to that. You let Tony lead in pretty much every facet.

“Same. It’s just easier to stand behind him,” you said. Steve’s brow creased at your comment and you suddenly felt uncomfortable. Trying to draw attention away from it, you gestured at the box. “May I?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve said, handing it over to you.

You opened the box and touched the odd shaped metal. “Definitely doesn’t look like normal batteries.”

“Nope,” Eva agreed.

Steve was looking at you with purpose when you handed the box back to him. His gaze slid to Eva and he asked, “Do you have some time?”

“For what, Mr. Rogers?”

“A small tour. Mrs. Stark hasn’t been able to see around the building because Tony has been busy, and a little explanation of some things down here might scratch her itch?” Steve looked at you for approval. “I mean, if you want that, of course.”

Excitement flared up and you nodded, “Yeah. I probably have time. Especially if there’s things to look at that won’t put me in a ‘we can show you but then we will have to kill you’ type of spot.”

Eva laughed at that. “There’s some of that available, yes.” She gestured past the desk behind her. “Shall we?”

Steve held out his arm to you and you took it appreciatively.

Eva started at a microchip, explaining it had the startings of being able to upload a personality to a robot to mimic a sentient being.

“So, like Vision?” you asked.

“Yes. Like Vision. But definitely nowhere near as advanced or powerful as he is. This is… it would be like a bodyguard for example?”

“A nanny for the baby when you need a break?” Steve joked quietly into your ear. You looked at him perplexed at the admission he knew and his smile fell. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—Tony told the team. I’m sorry if it was still supposed to be a secret?”

You waved it off quickly. “It’s fine. It’s you guys he told. You’re not nobodies.”

Though you did dislike that Tony was being so free with the information. You were only about two months along. He was getting too excited about it too soon whereas you were worried, your pessimism getting the better of you.

“And I’m sure I’ll need a break,” you joked back to Steve and he relaxed as the two of you followed Eva, her pointing things out that she could share.

You were so engrossed in what she was saying you only saw Tony’s reflection in the glass wall behind her at the last second.

You turned your head quickly and said innocently, “You’re done upstairs, then?”

“Rogers,” Tony said tightly, his eyes shooting to your arms intertwined before snapping back to Steve’s face. He looked very suspicious; you knew that look. Jealousy.

“Tony,” Steve returned, and he gracefully let your arm fall. He held up the box, “Thanks for the battery replacement. And the reminder to come grab it. I definitely would have forgotten without it.”

Tony by stepped his last comments. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Sure,” Steve said, tossing Eva a look. He held up the box to her now and said, “Thanks for being so prompt with this. It was helpful. And thanks for the walk.”

<><><>

When they were out of earshot, Tony told him firmly in hushed tones, “I’m not sure why you thought it was appropriate but don’t bring Y/N down here in the future.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know she wasn’t allowed until we were already down here,” Steve said and he saw Tony frown deeply. “She did say you didn’t wanna show her around the building after we came down here and I did ask if she thought she should be down here at all. Figured to just keep her close until we went back upstairs.”

“No, she shouldn’t be down here. I don’t want her knowing anything. Puts her at risk, knowledge. Kidnappings and whatnot.”

“I think being married to you, Tony, is what puts her at risk for that.”

Tony’s closed lipped smile did not reach his eyes; he was not amused with Steve’s quip.

“Regardless, for the future, don’t let the curiosity kill the cat. She’s better off naïve about it. Even if she’s learning on the arm of America’s golden boy.”

Silence ate away at the two of them for a few moments before Steve shrugged, relenting. He said stoically, “Understood.”

“Good,” Tony clipped. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my wife and I have lunch plans and I fear I’ve kept her waiting for far too long.”

Steve shook his head as soon as Tony brushed past him, leaving him by the elevator.

<><><>

You had thanked Eva before telling her she should probably go back to work now that the boss was in the room. She picked up on your joke but did it all the same. You paced slowly, watching carefully as Tony spoke with Steve. They were both tense and you sighed, knowing he was likely cursing Steve for assisting you down here. He really did not want you to know anything about most of his work whether it be here or out on the streets or in the political arena.

He came back to you and you gave him a smile, that he did not return.

“What were you doing down here?” he asked tightly, his hand coming to the small of your back and directing you back towards the elevator where he had left Steve who had already gone back up.

“Looking around,” you told him. “I was bored.”

“Do you not remember me telling you to not go poking around?”

“Yes, but I was curious.”

“It would make me happy if you would listen to me,” Tony said, nodding at one of his workers as he passed. “Don’t you wanna make me happy, kitten?”

“85 percent of the time,” you quipped, trying to get him to smile. But he still did not and your own slowly melted away as he responded.

“I think that sounds about right.”

There was something off about him, but you could not figure out what. You elected to stay quiet the rest of the stride to the elevator. He pressed the button to the elevator to come back down, his fingers on his other hand drawing lazy circles on the small of your back. Every so often though, his fingers dug in slightly and you did your best to not flinch away.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21, @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @kvzctam @farihafangirls, @teenageregression @mrsnegan25 @lilacs-lavender @agustdowney @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @emmariexx

[fanfic-she-wrote]

Imagine being the reincarnation of Dracula's long lost love: Part 9

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

A couple hours later, the flames eventually died out, leaving the castle practically in ruins. You still hadn't moved and Dracula was beginning to lose hope that you would never move again. He picked you up and carried your limp body in his arms as he walked back to the castle. So much of it was burnt and fallen apart. There was a large gaping hole in the cieling where you could see into the sky above. Dracula noticed that it was nearly dawn. He just hoped that the dungeons were still in tact as they made their ways towards them with Henry and Van Helsing clearing the way, pushing aside the charred debris.

At this moment Dracula felt numb. His castle was a heap of burnt rubble and the love of his life was possibly dead forever. Luckily for him when he reached the dungeons it was untouched, not even by the mob. At least that was a good sign. He thought. But not much of one. In a room just off the staircase lay his coffin, it black with plush red lining, and inscribed on the top was his family crest. Henry lifted the lid and Dracula placed you gently inside.

"What do we do now?" Van Helsing asked.

"We wait." Dracula replied, looking down at your lifeless body.

He felt anger once again boiling over inside him. He clutched his fists so tight that his knuckles turned white and his nails cut into his palms.

The tension was so thick in the room you could cut it with a knife. The longer Dracula waited, the more he became angry. Angry that his love had been taken away from him again. Angry that no matter how much he wanted it, he would never find peace not from angry townsfolk, not from Van Helsing, and not even from himself.

Van Helsing watched him carefully, sensing his anger. This anger was different than before. For the first time, he actually felt a little frightened. Dracula could tear him apart like paper if he wanted to. It felt like waiting for a bomb to explode.

Finally it did and like a viper he grabbed Van Helsing by his collar, lifting him a couple inches off the ground. "This is all your fault!! " He growled.

"My fault?! I'm not a monster that goes around killing innocent townsfolk am I?! " Van Helsing choked, trying to pry himself lose, but to no avail.

"Get out before I kill you were you stand!" He hissed, releasing him.

"No, Im staying." Van Helsing refused, fixing his shirt. Dracula stepped toward him, baring his teeth, aiming to kill.

"If she wakes and finds me dead, she will never forgive you. You don't want to risk that do you?" He pointed out, trying to appear calmer than he felt.

Dracula hesitated for a moment. Why did she value his friendship so much? He wondered.

"If she wakes up I will let you go. If not, you better pray for a quick death." Dracula threatened, glaring at him.

"Master, where will you sleep?" Henry asked, changing the conversation.

"I can't sleep. Not now. I'll be fine as long as the sunlight can't find me." He answered.

Dracula bent down beside you and held your hand. It was so cold now. Only a couple hours ago it was warm and soft. It was almost hard to believe it had only been a couple hours, it felt much longer to him.

Henry yawned, unable to stay awake for another second. He took off his coat folding it into a makeshift pillow and rested his head on it against the cold floor. He missed his bed, but that went up in the fire. Stupid townspeople. He thought to himself as he fell asleep.

Van Helsing didn't sleep either, although he wanted to. He couldn't even remember the last time he actually had a good night's sleep. His thoughts kept him up most nights, mostly about creatures of the night, but sometimes his thoughts were of you. Like how cute you were when you crinkled your nose when you were thinking or how you used to laugh when he did something you deemed silly...the little things that made him fall in love with you. If only he had told you how he felt...at least you would have known. He forced tears back, but it was becoming extremely difficult as the hours passed and you didn't wake.

"I love her too you know." Van Helsing confessed.

"What?" Dracula sneered, glaring at him from over his shoulder, but Lawrence paid him no mind.

"Yes...for a long time. I never told her." He said his voice cracking.

"You're a fool!" Dracula scoffed. Van Helsing nodded in agreement.

"I suppose I am. Maybe if I had this never would have happened." He said with a sigh.

Dracula spun around to face him. "What do you mean by that?!" He snarled. Van Helsing got up off the floor where he sat and came face to face with him, staring into his cold, dark eyes.

"I think you know what I mean. If I told her than maybe she would be with me instead of being dead because she fell in love with you!" He accused, finally losing his temper.

"How dare you!" Dracula angrily spat, smacking Van Helsing hard into a wall. "She could never love someone like you!" Van Helsing rubbed his head, feeling dazed. "You're pathetic! Weak! A miserable excuse for a mortal!"

"Am I? I'm not the one that has to hide from the sun or cower in fear of the cross." Lawrence retorted, lifting himself back on his feet. He looked at you and took a deep breath, knowing that you wouldn't have wanted them to fight.

"So much blood has been spilled, Dracula. Haven't you had enough?" He asked, trying to reason with him.

"No. Not till I have spilled yours." He hissed.

"Then I guess we are destined to do this forever." Van Helsing sighed.

"Forever is short in the life of a vampire. But you will never see it. " He swore through gritted teeth.

"I don't want to see forever. I'm tired. I've seen enough death and despair to last several lifetimes. I will eventually die, but there are things that are worse than death." Van Helsing admitted. Dracula's face softened a little as he mulled over his enemy's words in his mind.

"Get. Out." Dracula said, turning away. He didn't want to admit it, but Van Helsing was right. Living forever did feel like a curse. There were many times he wondered what it was like to be really dead. It must be glorious...

"I would like to stay a little while longer..." Van Helsing started to ask, taking a small step toward Dracula.

"Don't push it Dr. Van Helsing. I'm letting you go alive. Don't make me change my mind." Dracula warned.

"May I have one last look at her then?" He asked. Dracula nodded stepping aside. Van Helsing slowly walked up to the coffin and reached inside to touch your hand. It was still cold as ice.

He felt tears well up in his eyes again. "I'm sorry Y/N...for everything. If only it were me in that coffin instead of you. You of all people on this Earth didn't deserve this." He whimpered before placing gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Goodbye."

As you lay there, you tried to call out to them to tell them that you weren't dead, but you couldnt. It felt like there was an invisible force controlling you, preventing you from moving at all. You couldn't even breathe, it was almost like you were drowning and your lungs were being filled to the brim with water. Everything hurt. Wherever you were it was pitch black. You were frightened. If only Vlad or Lawrence could help you, even Henry. You didn't even know why you were here...oh right you're dead. Is this what it was like to be dead?

From the darkness, a small voice said, "Go back."

"We must go back." It implored you, sounding desperate.

"We? Who is we?" You ask. Suddenly, a bright light appeared blinding you. Squinting, you could make out a strange, blurry figure and faint whispering could be heard emanating from within the light. As you looked closer, it became clearer and you realized who it was. It was Dracula. You tried calling out to him once more, but he couldn't hear you. His appearance was different. He looked younger and was significantly less pale. He had longer hair that fell to his shoulders, even his clothes were different. You saw behind him the castle the way it once was, like in your vision. Your heart skipped a beat when he turned to look at you, as though he just noticed you were there. Then you finally felt yourself move, but you weren't in control. It was like you were a puppet being pulled around on strings.

Dracula reached for you, pulling you into his warm embrace, which you gladly welcomed. "My dear Maria, how I've missed you." He said, kissing your cheek. Maria? Who's Maria? You wondered, feeling a twinge of jealousy.

"I've only been gone a few hours Vlad." You said to him.

"But to me it feels like an eternity." He told you, kissing you again. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Without warning, the light flashed again and you found yourself in a church. You did not recognize this place, yet it seemed to familar. Before you stood Vlad and behind him was...Lawrence? No it couldn't be?! It certainly looked like him. The face was the same, but the hair was different. It was only slightly shorter than Dracula's and he was sporting a goatee. He didn't look as happy as your beloved. In fact, he looked extremely bored. Was this a wedding?

You slowly walked up the isle towards them, feeling all eyes on you. You didn't even know who any of these people were. All you knew is that you wanted to get out of there. You glanced up at Vlad and saw how much love glimmered in his eyes and you felt your nerves instantly calm. The room just seemed to fade away and only he mattered. He held out his hand for you, helping you up the last remaining steps.

"You ready, my dear?" He whispered.

"Of course. I can't wait to start my new life with you. " You happily answered.

"As am I."

Then the scene disappeared again much to your disappointment, this time to something a little less happy...this time you found yourself in a duel against Van Helsing. At first you weren't sure if it was a friendly duel, but quickly realized that it very much wasn't. This was a duel that could only have one victor.

"It should have been me on the thrown! All of this should have been mine!" Van Helsing yelled, smashing his sword into yours with a loud clang that rung throughout the great hall. You parried and sent him flying backward with a hard kick.

"The thrown! The castle! You..." He lunged at you once more, but you blocked it and counter attacked. He twisted your blade around his and pulled you close, your faces inches apart.

"You could never have me." You spat, pulling away.

"You wouldn't have had a choice." He retorted with a sickening grin. You could feel the anger building up inside you. With a swift flick of your sword you slashed him in the face, leaving a deep cut in his cheek. He chuckled. You were a fiesty one. Too fiesty for your own good, he thought.

"That's the difference between you and Vlad," You began. "He doesn't tell me what to do."  And with that you swung at him once more, this time breaking his sword in two. You held your sword to his neck.

You caught a glimpse of your reflection in the blade. That's when it dawned on you. You were Maria, Dracula's wife, and you remembered him telling you that you looked like her. It all made sense now. This is why you were having these visions. They are your own memories. Could it be that you and Maria are one in the same?

"Surrender traitor." You hissed, your blade mere inches away from his throat.

"I am no traitor." Van Helsing said.

"Fine then, a coward."

He rolled his eyes."At least I fight my own battles. Where's your beloved now?" He pointed out, looking smug.

"Fixing your mistake. Don't think I don't know what you've done. Vlad might trust you, but I sure as hell don't." You stated, inching your blade closer to his neck.

"And what will he say when he finds out that you've killed me?"

"The truth. He has no reason to doubt me." You answered confidently.

"Well, we'll find out sooner than you think." Confused you followed his eyes over to where Dracula now stood.

"What is this?!" He asked looking at the both of you.

"Vlad, he is a traitor. I caught him giving information to the Turks. He is league with the enemy." You explained. While you were distracted, Van Helsing quickly pulled a small dagger from within his sleeve and slammed it deep into your stomach. You dropped your sword falling to the floor alongside it writhing in pain. Dracula's heart stopped. It felt like time had slowed down as he ran to you and held you in his arms.

"Maria, no..." He let out a small cry, running his hand over your wound.

"I had to do something...I love you Vlad. I told you the day I married you that I would do anything for you." You told him, cupping his cheek.

"Then don't leave me...I can't live without you." He whimpered, sensing the end was coming for you.

"We will meet again, my love." You promised, sealing it with a quick kiss as the life faded from your body.

You could feel everything fading away again as you returned to the darkness. You mind was dizzy from everything you had just witnessed. It all felt so strange...

"Go back." The voice repeated again.

"He needs you. Go back!"

Suddenly, you felt whatever was holding you back had finally released you. Eager to get out of there you ran through the darkness hoping to find a way out. You didn't know where you were running, but you had to try. The darkness seemed endless and just as you were about to give up, the ground gave way below your feet and you finally woke up.

You gasped for air feeling as though you were drowning. You sat up clutching your throat, trying to catch your breath. Why was it so hard to breathe?

"Y/N?! Dracula gasped. He couldn't believe it. You were alive. It worked! It wasn't too late after all!

"Y/N! You're alright! Thank God." Van Helsing sighed in relief, smiling like he never smiled before.

"You!?" You exclaimed, backing away from him, your past memory still fresh in your mind. He looked at you feeling confused and hurt. Before Van Helsing could say anything, Dracula appeared at his side reaching out to you.

You looked over at him, eyes wide. "Vlad...I...I remember." You breathed.

"What?" He asked. "What do you remember?

"Everything."

[t-o-m-hollands]

Summery: Tom is part of the Firm, a fearless London gang. You are at the wrong place at the wrong time.  

Pairing: Tom and y/n.

Word count: 3k

Themes: Mob!Tom, Peaky Blinders inspired, period piece – this is set in 1961, London.

Warnings:  This story will contain themes such as kidnapping, murder, violence and smut. Also a lot of swearing. Also descriptions of injuries. Also alcohol, smoking and mentions of drugs.  this is a +18 story

A/N: This is a relationship that I wouldn’t recommend in real life. Also, the Firm was the name of the Kray twins gang. I was just too lazy to come up with a name of my own.  

READ PART I HERE

READ PART II HERE 

1961, London.

Years later, when you look back on that night, it doesn’t seem real to you. Your memories like snap shots in a photo album. Just still pictures in your mind of the night that would change the course of your life forever.  

Sherry holding court, arms waving animatedly as she tells her guests a funny story. Flash. Mark’s sullen face, uninterested and dull. Flash. Sherry’s wide and panic-stricken eyes as you heard the gunshots. Flash. Tom’s back, aiming his weapon at Mark. Flash. Sherry bloody body on the floor, forever wide eyed. Flash. Your bloodstained hands as you try to save her. Flash.  

Tom’s hand reaching out for yours.  

His hand had felt surprisingly real in yours. Warm and firm and calloused. When he pulled you up to your feet it felt a lot like being dragged back into reality.  

(Once as a child your father had taken you ice skating. Further out on the lake the ice had broken, and a girl had fallen through. Down beneath the surface she went; into the icy cold water. She would have died, had not one of her friends successfully managed to pull her up to the surface again. 

A part of you wonders if this is what she had felt like then.  Icy cold to the bone and struggling for air; feeling as though the ground itself has broken underneath you.)

But Tom wasn’t your friend. In fact, you had just seen him murder a man in cold blood. You could read no signs of remorse or guilt in his face. You knew then, that this was not the first time he had taken a life. It likely wouldn’t be his last either.  

He’d dragged you back to his car and you’d followed him obediently. It never occurred to you to fight him, there was no point. Not only had you seen him fight boys much bigger than himself on the school yard, but he also had a gun. So, you moved after him, feeling numb all over. Thoughts moving slowly in your head, like your head was full of cotton, and your body seemed to move almost of its own accord. He guided you into the passenger seat of a beat up car, before he got into the driver's seat and then you left East Ham behind you.

 *

Now here you are, captive in a dingy apartment in Mile End; with fading wallpaper and windows so dirty you can hardly see the view outside it. 

It’s filthy.   

With gentle hands he’d lead you to the bathroom where he sits you down. With a wet cloth he washes you clean of blood. Squatting in front of you his hands swipe and scrub until you’re free of red stains, though there is nothing to be done about your pink silk dress.  

There is something so tender in the way he touch you, his face so close to yours, a look of deep concentration on his face. You feel like a wounded and frightened deer as he cleans with great care; as if he’s scared you’ll fall apart at the seams. Any moment now 

A funny unwanted thought strikes you then; if you’re the dear, is he the huntsman?

After you’re clean he leads you out to the living room and he ties you up in a chair and asks you if you are comfortable. There’s shame in his voice and all you can do is stare back at him.  

“Are you in pain?” he asks instead.  

That paused you to think. There is nothing physically wrong with you; no cuts or bruises or broken bones. But numbness was evaporating, and panic started to rise like bile in your throat.   

“No” you answer at last.  

He searches your face for a sign of lying. Content that you’re telling the truth he takes a few steps away from you, turns his back to you, drags a hand through his hair.   

“Look, I don’t want to do this but until I have figured out what to do next you’ll have to stay here, alright?”  

No, you want to say. No of course that’s not alright, let me go!

But you’re cleverer than that. Antagonising him is not the way to get out of this alive. You must stay calm, keep your feelings under control. Even more difficult than that; you must make sure that Tom stays calm too.  

He’s sat down on the threadbare sofa, head in his hands, lost in thought.  

And here is where it can all go wrong. If his thoughts move in the direction that he must get rid of you the easy way, you’re done for. However, if you can steer his mind to a trail where you make it out alive then maybe then you have a chance of survival.  

*** 

“Why did you kill Mark Randall?”   

Outside he can hear people laughing, drunks singing and people fighting. From the apartment next door, he can hear a couple’s argument loud and clear. 

Yet your voice, quiet and gentle as it may be, shakes him like the sound of a gun. There’s something so matter of fact in the way you ask the question and Tom almost wants to laugh. Because here you are, tied up to a chair in his apartment, wearing a blood-splattered pink silk dress; having just witnessed the killings of two people, one of whom was your friend. Yet, you’re as calm as can be. Voice even and soft and your head held high.  

And here he is, and his hands are shaking, and he can feel the panic rising like bile in his throat.  

He looks away from you. To look straight at you feels too much like staring straight into the sun and it burns his eyes to see you like this. It feels surreal. Part from the blood you look like a fucking lady, and the contrast to his dirty apartment; a place he avoids most of the time, is bizarre.  

“Mark hadn���t needed to die if he’d just listened and come with me,” he says eventually.   

“You didn’t want to kill him?” You ask, and Tom sighs. He needs to remain in charge of himself, in charge of the situation. He needs to remember his training.  

Remember who he is, and what he’s capable of.  

So, he stands up and walks over to you, with his hands in his pockets and with a put-on air of nonchalance.  

“I’ve never wanted to kill anyone, princess. Especially not shoot them like that. Hasn’t stopped me though” he says and looks you in the eye. “Sometimes we have to do things we don’t like, because they’re necessary.”  

There’s a warning in his words, you both know it. 

“You’re awfully calm about all this” he says and kneels in front of you, looking up at your face, close enough he can see every detail in your face. A strange and unwelcomed image flashes before his eyes; of a knight kneeling in front of the queen, awaiting her judgement. But it is not fitting, the dynamic all wrong. You have no power here, and he sure is no knight. He doesn’t know which role he’s set to play in your story but he doubts it’s the hero.  

 “You’d prefer it if I screamed?” you ask, and he’s impressed, because your voice doesn’t waver. It’s sounds gentle and steady still. But he sees it in your face. There’s fear in your eyes, buried deep.  There’s a gleam of sweat over your forehead, and he’d bet more than this apartment that your heartbeat is beating like a drum right now.  

“God no” he huffs, “just wondering what you're thinking”. He can’t seem to look away from your face and warning words from half a lifetime ago about not looking straight into the sun comes back to him. Warnings that it will blind you.  

“Well, I’ll have to admit, I’m a bit curious about a few things” 

“Such as?” 

“What did you want with someone like Mark Randall?” 

Tom is taken aback at that, it was not a question he had expected. “He hurt one of my friends,” he says, after some hesitation.   

“So you wanted to hurt him back?”  

“No,” he says. “I just needed some information from him.” He doesn’t know why he’s telling you this. Letting you be a witness to a murder is bad enough. Now he’s sharing strictly confidential information with someone outside the Firm. But talking with you delays the moment where he must leave you and tell Fabien about what happened tonight.  

“I knew Mark, he was not clever nor resourceful. I doubt it very much if he’d have any information to give you.” 

He doesn’t know why you’re doing this, but your calmly delivered questions clears his head. He follows your path, like a light in the fog, guiding the way.   “You’re right, but he wasn’t working on his own initiative. He might have had information on his people” 

“You think he’d part with that information?” 

“I’d make him”.  

You go silent for a moment, and he wonders just how scared you are of him right then. He’s still kneeled in front of you, looking up at you, at the eyes he’s admired since he first saw you in school, a million years ago. You blink, and he’s reminded of the fluttering wings of a butterfly.  

“How was your friend attacked?” you ask, and your choice of question surprises him again.  

“Mark shot him in the arm, though the fucker aimed to kill” 

“Were you with him?” You blink again, another fluttering pair of wings, and Tom wonders if this is what it’s like to be hypnotized.   

“No,” he answers, “no he was on his way to meet me, but Mark was waiting for him and attacked”.  

“And how did Mark know your friend was supposed to be there, at that moment?” 

Your question is asked in such a low and gentle voice, and the full meaning of it doesn’t strike him at first,  

But then, 

“I, I don’t know” he confesses, and the realization startles him. 

 The telephone rings. Loudly it screeches from it’s table and Tom feels like he wakes from a trance. He pulls himself away from you slowly to answer it.

“Yeah?” he says, keeping his eye on you as he speaks into the receiver.  

“Fabien wants a report” Harry tells him.  

“On my way” Tom answers, “but Harry?” 

“What?” 

“You and Sam need to get to Mark Randall’s apartment. There’s two bodies to take care of.” 

Silence on the other end of the line.  

“Why didn’t you take care of it immediately?” his brother asks at last.  

“Was called away, alright?” and before Harry can protest he snaps “Just fucking do it, yeah?” and he hangs up.  

Silence fills the apartment, though the street outside continues to roar in drunken songs and fighting cries.   

“I have to go now,” he says, staring down on the telephone, suddenly unable to look at you.  

“What will they do to me once they realize there’s a witness?” you ask, and the question Tom thought would come before all others is asked at last. Truth is he should have gotten rid of you right then and there in East Ham. He shouldn’t have let a witness live.  It was sloppy and just the kind of sentimental bullshit that would end him in a prison cell one day. 

Truth is Fabien will make him kill you himself, probably in the most brutal fashion he can think of, just to make Tom prove that he hasn’t gone soft. That there’s no sentimentality left in him.  

He couldn’t let you go either. Didn’t trust you wouldn’t run straight home to your daddy and tell him everything. It didn't help that you knew Tom in school, knew his full name and would have no problem pointing him out in a line-up. Then he’d end up in prison, or dead, and Fabien would go after you in ways Tom didn’t even dare imagine. Just the thought of what the man is capable of makes him shiver.   

 “I have to go now” he repeats, ignoring your question. “There’s no use in screaming while I’m away. This is not a friendly neighborhood. They won’t come to your rescue.” 

But before he steps out the door he stops in his tracks.  

“You know, you helped me once,” he says, remembering that time you’d protected him from Jamie. 

“And this is how you repay me?” You’re still so fucking calm, even though you both know you’re done for and Tom’s heart beat uncomfortably hard in his chest.  

“You’re alive, aren’t you?” he says, eventually.  

You smile, and it is gentle though it is without humour. “For how long though, Tommy?” 

***

Tom sits in Fabien’s office, a glass of amber-coloured whiskey in his hand and your voice ringing in his ears.  ‘And how did Mark know your friend was supposed to be there?’ 

He had thought about it the entire drive to Fabien's house.  The only solution was this. Someone had told them. Someone had told Jack and his men that Harrison would be walking that street at that time on that night. And the only people who knew about it were the men in the Firm.   

He airs his suspicions to his leader.  

Fabien hums, and inhales from his cigarette. “I see we’ve been thinking along the same lines” he says, blowing out smoke in the air between them. His voice is low and even, his quiet and held back rage evident but controlled. “There’s a traitor in our midst, Tommy.” 

He studies Tom’s face, his cat-like eyes shrewd.   

“I’m going to find out who’s been ratting on us, and why” he continues, voice smooth like velvet.  “And God help the poor bastard once I’ve figured out who it is. However, our only lead was Mark Randall and you tell me you failed to bring him in for questioning and he’s now sinking in the Thames?” 

Tom forces himself to keep eye-contact with his superior, resisting the urge to look away from those penetratingly shrewd eyes. “Yes, guv”.

“You failed.” He confirms, taking a sip of his drink. “That’s very unlike you, Tom. I’m disappointed.” 

To anyone who didn’t know Fabien they might say the man sounded bored, but Tom knew better. The man was boiling underneath the surface. He didn’t need to shout and threaten to make his anger known, it was like a physical presence in the room. “Very disappointed indeed”.

“It won’t happen again,” Tom promises.

“Oh, it better not. I have big plans for you.” he says, and takes another sip from his drink. “Were there any witnesses?”

“No one left alive” Tom lies, and takes a sip from his own drink.

***

A/N: OH MY GOD this one was difficult to write. I had to rewrite it four times and I’m still not too sure about it. Their dynamic is really difficult but hopefully it’ll be easier in parts to come.  

***

taglist: @londonmademedoit  @isthataladybag   @ceexreverse  @daygiowvibe @averyfosterthoughts @applenter @viwihere @youcompletemess @marvelpeters @youngsenpaibaby @duskholland @vanillanestor​ @panicattheeverywherekid​ ​ @primadonnasdream @adorestarkey @johnismyreason @fancybrittrash

[pastpatientlywaitingforimagines]

All The Clouds Ch. 2 | Niall Horan x Reader

Warnings: mild swearing

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: BLACK AND WHITE

“There’ll never be another,”

As soon as you met Niall, you knew you wanted to be a part of his life.

Of course, he had no idea who you were. You were a budding sound engineer hired onto a gigantic tour production and he was… well, he was a rockstar.

All of the boys were charismatic and extremely talented, so it was no surprise that they had risen to fame so quickly. The tour manager, Tom, had pointed them out to you when he was giving you a tour of the production before your first sound check, but you never crossed paths until much later.

“You’ll be working with Annika Wilson and bunking with her as well. She’ll show you exactly what your responsibilities are. If you have any problems, report back to me. Any questions?” Tom asked as he led you to the side of the stage you’d be working from.

“Um, no,” you shrugged, feeling slightly overwhelmed. You weren’t exactly sure how you landed this job, but you also weren’t going to question it.

“Great,” he led you over to a sound station where a blonde woman was organizing cords and microphones, “Annika, this is the newbie I told you about.”

Annika was in her late twenties, tall, and intimidatingly cool. She looked up at you from what she was working on, dropping the cords and tightening her ponytail before reaching out to shake your hand, “welcome to the shit-show.”

You returned her handshake, immediately liking her. Tom shot her a glare but didn’t say anything before walking away. Annika must have had some seriously good job security to be making quips like that in front of the tour manager, you reasoned.

“He didn’t make this show seem like sunshine and rainbows did he?” Annika asked once he was gone, turning back to what she was working on.

“Kinda,” you rocked back awkwardly on your heels, unsure of what you could do.

“It’s not. This whole show is such a mess I’m surprised we manage to hold it together every time we run it. My job is to manage all of the microphones, for the boys and their band. Tom said you have experience sound mixing?”

“Yeah,” you stepped up to the sound board she was standing next to, “I was stage crew at the local concert venue in my hometown.”

“Perfect. We can tag team mixing until you get the hang of it for the show, then we’ll split it up. These,” she pointed to a box on her left, “are the boys microphones. Louis is blue, Harry is green, Liam is red, Zayn is yellow, and Niall is Ireland. Niall also has a headset mic, for when he’s playing the guitar. Since you’re just getting started, you’ll just be responsible for Niall. I can keep tabs on the other boys until you have your feet under you. Sound good?”

It took you a minute to realize she was serious. It was your first day, and she had already assigned you to the most technically complicated band member.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? I don’t trust myself not to mess something up and I don’t want to get fired on my first day.”

Annika laughed brightly, shaking her head, “the best way to learn this stuff is to just do it, two feet first into the deep end. Don’t let the boys scare you. Working with them is the easiest part of the job, they’re really sweet underneath all of the chaos,” she smirked. You weren’t sure how much you believed her, the quick glimpse of them you had seen earlier involved a Segway and being chased by their security guard, Paul. You didn’t get to ask her any further questions before she started introducing you to the rest of the equipment.

The sound board you’d be working with was much like the one you were used to using at your job back home. The difference would be setting it up correctly and breaking it down quickly between shows. Annika kept reassuring you that it would seem less overwhelming the more times you did it, and with the list of upcoming tour dates you’d get lots of practice.

“Here comes trouble,” Annika mumbled to you shortly after sound check officially started. You looked up to the stage and saw all five boys heading your direction. “Boys,” she greeted them when they made it to the sound station, “this is (y/n). Be nice.”

“We’re always nice,” Liam smirked, though the way he winked at you said otherwise.

“Always,” Harry emphasized, taking his microphone from Annika. She rolled her eyes, handing Liam, Louis, and Zayn their mics as well. Instead of giving Niall his microphone, she gave it to you instead, nodding in his direction before going back to chatting with the other boys.

You walked up to him hesitantly, “um, Annika put me in charge of your mics.”

“Did she?” Niall glanced over at your coworker quickly with a lopsided smile.

“Mhmm,” you hummed.

“Well ya know what that means, don’t ya?”

“I don’t think I do.”

“Means we’re friends now.”

“Does it?”

“Absolutely. And you have to promise we’ll stay friends forever.”

“Why would I do that?” you couldn’t be too careful, you had to ask before you accidentally sold your soul. Niall looked a little taken aback by your question, eyes narrowing as he thought out an answer. Finally, he held out his free hand towards you. You cocked your head, but reached out and let him pull you onto the stage.

Normally standing in the middle of a stage made you feel small and insecure. You much rather preferred to be behind the sound booth, away from prying eyes and left to your own devices. Standing there with Niall though, you didn’t feel as small. There were rows upon rows of empty seats, and it was easy to imagine thousands of screaming fans filling the arena. It felt like a rush of electricity running through your veins. Standing up here, you felt like you could do anything.

“This is why,” he said smugly when you finally looked over at him, “this changes your life.”

“I still don’t see why that means I have to promise to stay friends with you though. I’ve know you for all of two minutes.”

“So what?”

“So I’m not promising anything until I know you better.”

Niall considered your offer slowly, dropping your hand to cross his arms, “fine. I’ll convince you, you’ll get it eventually.”

“Good luck with that,” as soon as there was space between you, the stage fright started to catch up to you, “I, um, I should get back to Annika.”

You turned on your heel and practically ran back to the sound board where Annika was waiting.

“He’s great, right?” she asked smugly.

“He’s alright,” you shrugged.

“Wait until you hear him sing,” she moved a slider on the sound board, then gave the boys a thumbs up.

You had to admit, she was right. The boys were amazing. Of course, you had heard some of their music before joining the tour, practically the whole world had at that point, but their live performances were something else. Each one had their own style and sound that melded together in a stylistic way. Their personalities shined through their music and their antics. It was impossible to watch them without a smile on your face.

It would be generous to say you fumbled through your first soundcheck and show, but Annika knew what she was talking about when she said you had to jump feet first into the deep end. Niall was more than forgiving when you dropped his mic while handing it to him during your first show, and completely forgot to bring his handheld when he switched back later that night. With every mishap, he laughed it off and told you that you’d get it next time.

Like Annika, he was also right, and by your third show you had it all figured out. Once you were more confident in your abilities as an employee, you started to enjoy the show as a whole and could spend more time appreciating the work that the boys were doing. Though at first it seemed larger than life, as the tour picked up speed you started noticing things that outsiders wouldn’t have even blinked over.

You finally asked Annika about it when you were leaving your hotel room in a new city to walk to the venue for sound check, “does the band ever get to go out when we go places like this?” It was a beautiful, sunny day and Annika had suggested going out to experience the night life after the show.

She shook her head, “they can’t. They’d be mobbed, fans and paps everywhere. Nobody knows who we are so we can get away with it, but the boys are stuck inside most places. Management doesn’t want them out causing trouble anyways.”

“Why would management care? Plenty of celebrities go out, and if they do get into trouble, isn’t it their management’s job to fix it? Why have management at all otherwise?”

“Not all celebrities are young attractive men that the whole world is obsessed with. You’re right, management is supposed to protect the talent, but here they’re just controlling.The boys are basically prisoners to their management. They can’t leave the hotel, they can’t say or do anything that could be considered scandalous, and they’re extremely overworked. Management has even asked me to turn down Niall’s mic during a show before. Honestly, the boys are great to work with, but the rest of this place is toxic.”

“You didn’t…” you felt a twinge of responsibility for the Irishman who had quickly become your favorite member of One Direction (though you’d never admit that to anyone).

“Of course not, I’d never betray the boys like that. My reputation with them is more important than my reputation with management, and I don’t hide the fact that I like them better than I like their management. That’s how it’s always been and how it always will be. If management decides they have a problem with it, they can fire me,” she shrugged.

Her words stayed with you all through soundcheck, but once the show started you pushed them as far back into your mind as possible. You had to focus on the task at hand.

You were more comfortable around Niall than you had been three weeks ago when you first started. There was an intimacy that you got to have with him every night while passing off microphones and guitars between you that easily fueled a good working relationship. At first it was mostly small talk, a comment here and there about the energy in the room or the water fight Louis and Liam had onstage. Small talk turned into tiny dance parties or riddles, but you didn’t think your relationship was any more complex than that until Niall posed you a question as you traded microphones.

“What’s been goin’ on in your head all night?”

“Just show things,” you brushed him off, not really wanting to talk about it in that moment.

“I can hear the whirring of your gears turning from the other side of the stage, and that’s with my in-ears. Harry’s got the crowd captivated for a minute, what’s wrong?”

“Have you always wanted to be a singer?”

Niall smiled softly, “I wanted t’ be a footballer for a little bit, but yeah, this has always been my dream.”

“What happens when you’re old, then?”

Niall laughed loudly, “old? I’ll still be able to sing when I’m old.”

“Right, but when you’re done touring and performing for millions of people around the world.”

“Well, I’ll just be able to enjoy my life at that point I guess. Maybe I’ll play golf more, have some consistency. I haven’t thought much about it but I’ll get back to you,” he flashed you a bright smile before bouncing back on stage to rejoin the band, leaving you holding his microphone.

Niall didn’t know the weight of your words because of how you phrased your question, but his answer told you everything you needed to know. He wanted consistency, because his life currently didn’t have much of it. He wanted control, and to ‘enjoy his life’. Those were his words. “I’ll just be able to enjoy my life at that point”. You went back to the sound station where Annika was perched on a stool watching the boys, oblivious to the conversation you had just had. You sat next to her, eyes landing on one blonde Irishman who was bouncing all over the stage. His smile said it all, he was living his dream. He was living his dream and having fun while doing it, but at what cost to him and his sanity?

You thought back to a few weeks ago, when you stood in the middle of the stage with him and he asked you to promise you’d stay friends. It meant something to him, and you chose not to do it. Knowing what you knew now, though, it made sense. Management controlled his every move. He was living his dream under somebody else’s thumb, and to fight it he was picking up friends at every turn.

It was the most Niall Horan thing you had ever heard.

If he was going to spend the rest of his career like this, though you really hoped he didn’t, you knew you had to be there to support him through it all. Nobody should have to go through what he was dealing with, and if he was asking for friendship you were going to be the best friend he had ever had.

You waited until the show was over to say anything else to him. As soon as he was in front of you handing you his mic, you plucked up the courage.

“Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah, do you have a minute?” he was still buzzing from the show, skin gleaming in sweat.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t,” you stuck your tongue out at him, earning a laugh. You walked to the wings of the stage, peeking out from behind a wall to see if there were still fans in the audience. You waited until you were sure the coast was clear, then you waved for him to follow.

The stage crew was already breaking down the set, but you were still able to lead Niall to the center of the stage. You stood looking out at the now empty seats, not making eye contact before you spoke.

“You asked me to promise to be your friend.”

“I did.”

“You said I’d get it eventually. It took me a while to figure it out, but you were right, this changes your life. I get it now,” you finally turned to look at him and you were met with a cheeky grin.

“Is this going where I think it’s going?”

You rolled your eyes, “I promise we’ll stay friends.”

Niall whooped loudly, lifting you off your feet in a hug and spinning you around.

“Ew, you’re all sweaty,” you squirmed out of his grasp. He only grinned harder.

“It doesn’t matter. You still have t’ like me, we’re friends for life now.”

“If we’re going to be friends you have to put in effort too, you know. This isn’t a one way street.”

“I know.”

You thought it would be simple, being friends with Niall Horan. You were wrong.

“I promise that I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”

Chapter 3: DEAR PATIENCE Coming April 20th, 2021

[thewritewolf]

What He Deserves

Summary: Not even a week has passed since Hawkmoth was revealed to all the world to be Gabriel Agreste. As Adrien sits in his truly empty house, unable to leave thanks to the crowd of people outside, he wonders if this is what he deserves for not realizing sooner.

But then again, not everyone has the same ideas about what he deserves...

Hello and welcome to another birthday fic! This one is for the ever amazing @leviaana, founder of my favorite discord group, fantastic artist, and occasional candy exchange buddy. She said she likes post-reveal hurt/comfort that turns to fluff and I aim to please!

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Adrien tentatively pulled back the curtains in the second-floor living room and peered outside, across the porch and over the wall that separated him from the outside world.

The news had broken only a couple days ago - only hours after Adrien himself found out. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting at first, but it wasn’t long before the crowd started to form. Some were unquestionably reporters. His years as Chat Noir had made it easy for him to pick them out from a crowd. He even recognized some of their voices, which had long been chasing him for interviews.

Somehow, he didn’t think they were going to be asking him about his favorite flavors or the most interesting akumas now. Although they definitely would be interested in what he knew about Hawkmoth, now that his father had been unmasked.

Which is why he believed the other people in the crowd were here. Some just seemed curious. Others seemed... Angry.  

Maybe that was to be expected. The fall of Hawkmoth was as sudden as it was unexpected. Just another routine akuma attack that had accidentally revealed his base of operations. A quick five on one fight later and the butterfly miraculous was in Ladybug’s hands, a battered Gabriel Agreste was taken into custody, and Adrien Agreste’s life had been left in shambles.

It meant that there wasn’t much closure for anyone - not yet, at least. While people waited for his father’s trial to start, years of building frustration had to find an outlet somewhere.

And who better than the last free, living Agreste?

Thankfully, nothing had happened yet, but the crowd had turned his home into more of a prison than it had ever been while his father was in it and that was an accomplishment all on its own. Without his parents, Nathalie, or even the Gorilla to take up space in the mansion, he had never felt so alone before.

The only company Adrien had Plagg and his own emotions, and neither were doing wonders for his mental health.

“Kid,” Plagg said with a tired voice. They’d had this conversation plenty of times before and Adrien knew they were about to have it again. “None of this was your fault.”

“Yeah?” Adrien closed the curtain just as people started to look his way, plunging the room into darkness once again. “I’ve lived under the same roof as Hawkmoth for years.” Adrien raised his voice and threw his hands over his head. “I’m Chat Noir! If anyone could have found Hawkmoth ages ago, it would be me!” His arms fell limply to his sides once again and he stared dully at his kwami. His voice dropped to just above a whisper. “So why didn’t I?”

Plagg shook his head. “He was good enough to hide it from everyone and he was a recluse, even with you. There’s no way you could have known without doing some serious digging.”

“Maybe…” Adrien stared at a massive family painting, saw the cold and calculating look his father had even then. “Or maybe I just didn’t want to even consider it. Maybe I was having so much fun being Chat… fighting alongside my friends… alongside Marinette, that I just didn’t care.”

“You know that’s not true,” Plagg replied quietly.

“Who knows? That’s probably what they think now. No wonder they haven’t tried to visit since the news broke. They don’t want to be anywhere near me right now, and I can’t blame them.” Adrien put his back to the wall and slid down it, taking a seat on the ground and pulling his knees up to his chest. “I don’t want to be near me right now. No wonder they feel the same way.”

“Kid-”

Whatever Plagg was going to say was cut off when there was a knock at the front door. With how quiet and still the rest of the house was, it sounded as loud as thunder as it echoed in the emptiness. Adrien shot a fearful glance toward his kwami - had people finally stormed the mansion? - but Plagg just shook his head and smirked.

Cautiously but now a little curious, Adrien went down the stairs. He watched the door all the while as soon as it came into view. There was another knock. Not violent or angry. Polite. Familiar. But definitely insistent.

Adrien peeked out the window next to the front door and his eyes widened at the sight of his friends loitering on the other side.

Nino and Alya were chatting as if this was nothing out of the usual. Marching up to Hawkmoth HQ, straight past a future angry mob, just to knock on the front door? Who doesn’t do that on a Friday afternoon, honestly? And there was Chloe, of course, checking her makeup in her compact, looking as fashionably detached from her environment as ever.

And standing right in front of the door, expectantly, happily… was Marinette herself. One hand was holding onto a big duffle bag that was thrown over her shoulder and the other was held at her side as she stared up into the sturdy wood door. There was no doubt in her eyes, no worry that he might not answer. Just complete and patient faith.

How could he even contemplate letting her down?

Adrien opened the door and it was like breaking open the flood gates. The first thing he saw was Marinette’s face, her bright blue eyes looking up at him as they shifted from quiet contemplation to soft affection. Their eyes connected in a moment that lasted forever and he could almost swear that his heart stopped beating as they stared into each other…

“Dude!”

The moment shattered when Nino bodily threw himself over the threshold and collided with Adrien, forcing him to stumble back a few steps or fall down in a heap.

The others quickly followed Nino’s example and soon Adrien was caught at the center of one big group hug. Marinette was the last to join since she paused to close the door. A few seconds into the hug, Adrien realized to his surprise that he was trembling - had he really missed human contact that much over the last few days?

All too soon they each pulled back until they were standing around the foyer, watching him. That’s when he noticed that it wasn’t just Marinette with an overstuffed bag with her. It looked like each of them had packed for a long trip.

Some of his confusion must have shown on his face since Alya grinned and said, “Better get used to having some roommates for a while, blondie. We’re not going anywhere.”

“But how did you get passed the-?”

“She knew the passcode for the gate.” Chloe jerked a thumb at Marinette. “The rest of us glared at the crowd until they gave us some space.”

“But don’t worry ‘bout that, dude!” Nino threw an arm around Adrien’s shoulder. “We’re here to have a chill time. You’ve got the space and we’ve got the fun, so let’s get this party started!”

Nino steered Adrien towards his room and they got started.

‘Bringing the fun’ hadn’t even been close to an exaggeration on Nino’s part. There were video games, movies, board games, all sorts of ways to keep themselves entertained. His room started off as the cold and sterile place that it had been for most of his life. But as the hours ticked past, it slowly changed into something else. Someone would go and grab more pillows. They’d push some couches and chairs together in front of the television. Tables would be pulled together for a huge game. Snacks and drinks were strewn everywhere.

It was chaotic. His room was a mess.

It was the most fun he’d had out of the mask in his life. The house was filled with light and life and love for the first time in years and he had his friends to thank for that. Or, as he slowly realized, Marinette specifically. She was the one who had planned it all, organized them, and got as much entertainment together as possible.

The day gave way to night and they were all camped out in front of his television, lost in a cozy den of blankets and pillows propped up against his couch. They were deep into a movie marathon. It could have been twenty two hundred at night - it could have been four in the morning. Time was meaningless at this point. Almost everyone was asleep, except for him.

Well… him and Marinette.

She was laying right beside him as they shared the same blanket, scooted close to each other as the winter chill began to set in. They weren’t touching, but he could feel her warmth radiating off her. His hand twitched ever so slightly as he yearned to move it just a few centimeters and take her hand in his.

The years had brought them closer together than ever, especially after their identities had gotten revealed to each other. They’d always teetered on the edge of a relationship, but with all the uncertainties of life and the tangled mess of revealed identities, they never could commit.

But now, as he glanced furtively at her, lit only by the pale light of the movie, he wondered…

Then he remembered the reason they were here in the first place and his mood crashed. He didn’t deserve her. He didn’t deserve any of them. He-

“Adrien?”

Her voice was soft - he could barely hear her over the television, even with the audio turned down to a low rumble so their friends wouldn’t be woken by it.

She was waiting on an answer.

“Yeah?”

“We’re all here for you. We love you.” His ears may have heard ‘we’, but his heart had heard the ‘I’ that was hidden beneath it.

She was braver than him. Her hand crossed the short distance between them and she intertwined their fingers.

The television became blurred as tears began to build, clouding his vision. He shook his head as he bit his lips to hold back a sob.

“I don’t- I don’t deserve- After everything-”

“You aren’t your father,” she said quietly but firmly. “You’ve proven yourself so, so much better than that.” Her thumb began to rub against the back of his hand. “We’re not going anywhere.”

She scooted closer to him. His arms wrapped around her waist, with his hands meeting up on her back, pressing her close to him as he buried his face into her shoulder as the tears that he’d been holding back for so long began to fall. He was worried he was holding her too tight, but she didn’t seem to mind at all.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said as she held him back and kissed the crown of his head.

[pearl-blue-musings]

Perchance to Meet pt. 5

...hey...how yall doing??

Pairing: Aizawa Shouta x fem!Reader

Warnings: some angst, assault although slight it’s still there, be careful of the company you keep

Part 6

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sports festival came and went in flash, despite not being able to see as well as he would have liked. Aizawa was incredibly proud of his students, regardless of how unorthodox and rambunctious they all were. Heck, he even found a potential protégé from the general studies course that he couldn’t wait to tell-

Oh that’s right.

The extra key that was thrown at him weighs heavier in his pocket as Present Mic helps him walk away from the sound booth. It’d been two weeks since he’d last seen (Y/n) and heard from her. The man isn’t surprised, he did use all the stops to make her leave, break her in a way that only those close to her had the ability to. Did he mean all the words he had said to her? Hell no. He had been trying to put her first, something new and unfamiliar in his life, but the safety of his students and his job as an underground hero came first. And she knew that. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

He’s doing his best to act like everything is okay, which isn’t hard for the stoic man to do. But those closest to him know how much he’s really hurting. Aizawa figured moving on to the sports festival was not only best for the school but for his students and the well being of others around him. He knew it would be a tough decision; placing the woman he loved more than anything behind his career and livelihood was a choice he never thought he had to make.

He didn’t even hesitate to put his own feelings aside for the good of everyone else. He didn’t hesitate to hurt the one person who fell into life and fit into it so easily; did it like it was nothing.

The tears he doesn’t shed are the most painful ones he feels within his heart. And that feeling will keep nicking at him until he does something or they fade away. He silently hopes for the latter.

**********

It was hard seeing him on every television. The U.A. sport festival was a sight sorely to be missed. (Y/n) knew that he taught class 1-A so it was nice to finally see them, but why couldn’t she had been there with him? Why couldn’t she have been there to support and celebrate his students like she wanted to do? Frustration evident on her face as she quickly turns the tv off in her apartment.

She hears a scoff behind her and remembers that Kona decided to help around the shop that day. “Hun, staring holes into the tv isn’t gonna let him know you’re angry.” She hmphs at her friend and abruptly turns off the screen.

“You’re lucky I invited you up here.”

“I wasn’t gonna let you sit and mope around forever. Not when I know we need to talk about a certain someone who’s been visiting the store almost once a week.”

“Can we not talk about him as I just saw my ex on television?”

Kona laughs and shakes his head, “I mean, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone so…” He eyes his superior smugly, knowing full well that she has considered it. A throw pillow catches his face by surprise as he now tastes cloth and velvet on his tongue. Kona growls at (Y/n) and flicks her off as he moves to her kitchen.

He hears her sigh from the couch as she sinks lower into the cushions. “It’s not like I haven’t thought about it… It’s just,” she pauses as her eyes begin to sting with threatening tears, “Shit.”

Warm tears are falling freely down her face as the hurt settles in again. “Fuck, I’m sorry for crying again,” she feels Kona hug her awkwardly from behind the couch and hears him shush and coo her. It’s hard for him to not want to cry too when he feels the sobs shake her body.

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. You’re hurt, and that’s not okay with me. I honestly didn’t think he would be there…” He trails off trying to gauge her emotional state at the moment. “Fuck, (Y/n) I had no idea you loved him that much, sweetie.”

She merely nods, knowing that’s all she can do at the moment.

“Hey,” he whispers, “why don’t I take some of the load off of you for the next couple of weeks?”

She turns quickly to face him, shock and awe in her eyes. “No Koko you can’t. I’ve got to work here and at the bar and-“

“And I don’t give a shit.” He snapped out that last part to notate his seriousness.  “You’ve worked harder than anyone I know.

“Take a break.”

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

Hizashi Yamada does his best to not show his true and underlying emotions. He’s done his best to keep up his loud persona around his best friend in order to have some sort of normalcy. He knows normalcy won’t ever happen again, not with all the villain attacks and personal life issues that keep showing up. Hizashi can see in those dark pits Aizawa calls eyes that he isn’t okay.

But now that he sees him on television with their principal trying to keep the peace about one of his own students getting kidnapped, it’s more than obvious shit has hit the fan.

The blond knows all too well that his friend won’t open up about his choice to be alone. The choice he made months ago that has affected almost every aspect of his life but won’t readily admit it. Sure, his hero work, teaching, and side lessons with Shinso have been going exceptionally well but he’s not the same man he was a year ago. Hell, even five months ago.

Present Mic is fully aware that the kidnapping of one of his students broke him. Correction, it broke him down further. For his years of teaching experience, Aizawa has never had a student kidnapped and taken from a school sanctioned event, never had to apologize for it on national television, and then going to each students’ home to apologize and ask more of them. His best friend is stressed out, without anyone to go to that isn’t enamored in his world or another hero.

Moving into the mandated school dorms was just another nail into the rickety and unstable mind that was Aizawa Shouta. He’ll never admit to it, but having all these changes happen in such a short time is taking a toll on him. The bags under his eyes have somehow become darker and more bruised. Hizashi isn’t sure of the last time his friend had shaved or properly slept, considering he did what he does best.

The overly tired man throws himself into his job, his students, and his hero work. To anyone on the outside he was back to himself, giving 110%, doing the most for the best outcome and doing it all with his signature stoic face. And he’ll push. He will push and push farther deep into his heart and soul the feelings he wants kept.

That he loves her, that he misses her, that he fucked up… But he will always do what’s right and what’s best for those around him.

When it came time for another break from the norm, Aizawa’s students along with the other first years of U.A., were set to go get ready for their provisional licenses. Even when he ran into Ms. Joke, usually he’d play into their “will they or won’t they” dating banter but couldn’t find it in himself to do it fully. He wanted to focus on his class’s success, fathoming their struggles thus far and understanding how important this all is to them.

He doesn’t mention how he had wanted to do this with (Y/n) but blows that thought away.

It’s for her safety, he thinks, it’s for her safety.

Hizashi knows that Aizawa misses (Y/n) and what she brought to his life without him knowing the full affects of it. He frowns, something rare to occur, as he thinks over the events of the last month or so. Now he’s really hoping that she’ll come back or that Shouta will come to his senses before things take a drastic turn.

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

“Kai, I can’t thank you enough for helping me out and being here. I know you’re not the biggest fan of crowds.”

(Y/n) had been suddenly called to bartend a private party one night, which is not her usual sctick. However when she realized she was called for by name, her mind reeled at who could’ve done this and filled with panic at the thought it might be another stalker. But when she had finished preparing the bar and was met with yellow golden eyes, her mind calmed.

“It’s not just crowds, it’s touching people and their quirks. I know you understand.”

She gives the man a hearty smile as she prepares sets of drinks for his cohorts. The addition of the plague mask was new to her as he had always worn a regular mask upon entering her store. Regardless of that weird nuance about him, (Y/n) continued her duties as a bartender and caregiver. The young woman doesn’t normally close because of her pulling double duty, but when her manager mentioned the extra money in this who was she to say no?

Keeping up with Kai throughout the night kept her sane, despite the strange aura his posse or gang or whatever gave her. She figured it was better to not use her quirk based on the company Kai keeps as a way to save her soul. Kona’s words are still fresh in her mind, despite them being from months ago. Sure, she’s considered Kai Chisaki as a possible rebound, but she didn’t want to hurt someone or be hurt in return. Besides, he told her about Eri, he helped her with both of her business money wise, and was kind; she’s not going to acknowledge the eeriness of personality that she couldn’t get a grip on.

The night presses on and the private party starts to wind down. “Alright friends, it’s 1:45 meaning it is now last call for drinks! Get them before I decide for you and the club closes.” Hoots and hollers are heard after her words which cause her to giggle at their antics. Unbeknownst to her, light gold eyes don’t leave her body. His glove clad hands pick at the fabric of his jacket and gloves as his mind wanders. He knows this woman keeps Eri happy, and if Eri is happy he gets what he wants. He also knows that this club has a back alley that is hidden from most prying eyes and knowing this woman is just a bonus.

Does he have feelings for her? No, he just knows that she is a good pawn in his plan. Which makes things harder as the night comes to an end.

Chisaki takes his mob at the end of the night and leaves the club. They head out to the back where they are meeting a client to exchange a new batch of quirk enhancing blood bullet and quirk eliminating, or balancing in his opinion. He’s proud of this particular batch, Eri was most responsive and useful all because she had some of her favorite books from her favorite person.

It also didn’t hurt that she was more obedient after their run in with some new and upcoming heroes.

The brunet hates waiting. He thinks of ending his clients life as the minutes tick by in the dark of night. His thoughts rub rampant as his impatience grows by the second. He’s suddenly nudged on the shoulder by Hari Kuruno, his only trusted friend, who alerts Kai of the incoming company. The deal goes without a hitch until Kai speaks up.

“You kept me waiting longer than I would’ve liked. A balance must be put in place.”

He then walks up to one of the client’s underlings, and uses his quirk on them. Blood splatters everywhere as his eyes are unchanging and intense. The whole scene is gruesome but Chisaki rationalizes that it is necessary to establish order and punishment.

However, in the midst of that he was unable to hear the back door of the club open and close.

A shrill and disgusted scream is heard by him and his men and they immediately turn toward the source. Golden eyes narrow at the interruption and scowls, if they could be seen, adorned the faces of his cohorts. He can see that the woman he had been keeping tabs on is shaking and conflicted. She’s seen everything, the exchange, the blatant murder; there’s even some blood on her cheeks.

“Chronostasis.”

All he had to do was say that name and (Y/n) suddenly felt immobile and deathly sick. What the fuck did she just see? There’s no way he’s a terrible person, no way… But she can’t deny what she saw. Her eyes dart left to right as she sees and feels no means of escape. A cold gloved hand grips her cheeks and forces her to look at the man who currently holds her fate.

“I, I won’t say anything I swear, just please let me go Kai!”

“That’s Overhaul to you.” He doesn’t even flinch or react to her crying or her huffing, as he continues to hold her face.

“I guess you’ll get your wish, you will be able to see Eri again.”

Darkness envelopes the young woman as she loses consciousness and her body is taken to an undisclosed location.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @kiribaku-queen @cupcake-rogue @shinsouskitten @prk-pyo @therealwalmartjesus -taglist is open-

[pparkerpoetry]

Face Reality (Part 8)

Title: A Touch Too Close to Insanity (and the comfort of a family written in the stars)

Summary: The castle has fallen and so have the skies, but which one of them is the Atlas that keeps it up? Is it the traveler, who carries the burden of what was undone but is forever in his mind, or is it the one that, without, the world would have ended in fire long ago?

or, Ranboo picks up more strays. (ft. family fluff)

- Chapter One  - Chapter Nine

Masterlist

So, Ranboo did his best to make sure that no one was alone for long. He could tell when people needed longer to gather their thoughts, but he made sure to intervene before they spiraled. He made sure to intervene before it was too late. 

_______________

Ranboo didn’t like being alone. He doubted anyone else truly did, either. They might seek out a space of their own, they might avoid contact for a day, but in the end, they came back. The thing was, after all they’d been through, the line between alone and lonely was growing as thin as the good graces of the gods.

Sometimes this extended to people outside of his family, and sometimes, he was late. Not too late, but certainly overdue.

The sun was shining, and Ranboo had woken up with restless limbs. He needed to leave his room, he needed to leave this little hole in the wall. Not permanently, just for a break.

After he yelled out a goodbye to Sam and was answered back several times over, Ranboo took a stroll down memory lane in the form of a thin wood path that was worn and old. There were places where he had to step over rotting planks, and he didn’t entirely trust it, but the buildings that lined it brought him to a different time. He’d changed since then, so had his surroundings, and though he was happy, a part of him wished for simpler times. 

Were they simple? Or was his mind just lying to him? He wasn’t sure anymore.

Ranboo paused at the end of a giant crater, the huge flag set at the bottom still waving. He managed a weak smile, and thought of the times that he hadn’t been a part of. Did the others miss those times? Or was his mind just coming up with reasons to pity himself? He wasn’t sure. He never had been.

He turned when his eyes started watering with the tears he’d never shed back then, and his eyes landed on a castle. The castle, he supposed. Eret’s. The beacons had long since stopped shining, and the walls were crumbling. No maintenance had been kept up, and it showed. It really was a shame that such a beautiful thing had fallen, but so seemed the theme of this story.

His legs moved without him telling them to, bringing him to the entrance. He walked past the towers that once had stood tall and proud, but now bowed to the power of wind and rain. The staircase that brought him to the castle was full of loose stones, and the grass was overgrown. He frowned at the state it was in. Hadn’t Eret been looking after it?

There were holes in the structure, as if there had been smaller explosions, or maybe just a really strong fist. Anger can change people. 

Eyebrows furrowing, he raised a fist to knock on the door. Maybe someone was there.

The door swung open when he brought his hand down. A wave of dust flew into the air, making him cough. When he recovered from his coughing fit, he continued down the hall to the throne room, feeling as if he was intruding.

All signs should’ve pointed to something. That something was wrong, not completely conforming to the rest of the narrative.

Footsteps in the dust that was so thick they could only be recent. Dried drops of red on the stone. The lack of wildlife in the building when the entrance was open. And, if he listened hard enough, the ragged breath that could only be that of an injured human. 

It took a while for Ranboo’s eyes to adjust to the darkness of the throne room. In the pitch black, he could almost see the ghosts of the memories running through the halls, laughter and chatter filling them with painful reminders of times that would never return. All he saw, though, was a crumbling throne. And, on top of it, a crumbling king.

“Eret?” He whispered, scared to get closer.

Eret, if that was who it was anymore, looked up. Their breathing was ragged and pained, their voice low and filled with emotion. “Ranboo?”

Ranboo walked closer, even daring to walk up the slight stairs to the throne to put a hand on Eret’s shoulder. “What happened to you?”

“What didn’t?” The laugh that followed was bitter and grateful at the same time. Bitter at what he’d done, grateful that everything had happened to him and not someone else. “Creepers, skeletons, other mobs. Myself. Time. No one cares about me anymore, Ranboo. The castle is dark. Nothing matters anymore. It used to be so beautiful, Ranboo, and now it’s all dark.”

The castle was dark, but as Ranboo looked into Eret’s eyes, it wasn’t the only thing. “What do you mean? Didn’t you get a fresh start after Dream was imprisoned? Tommy and Tubbo forgave you. They did a long time ago, I think.”

Eret let out a laugh that sounded a touch too close to insanity. She was still hunched over the throne that had stopped being a comfort a long time in the past, a curse remaining from times that had faded. “I was forgiven by everyone. Almost, at least. I was forgiven by everyone that mattered, anyway. I was forgiven by them, yes, but not by myself. And now? I pay the price for what I did.”

Ranboo moved closer, and he could see himself in the reflection. Not just in Eret’s tarnished crown, the metal showing his face and his concern. Not just in their eyes, that looked up at him, hopelessly, begging him silently for a reason to stay alive. Not just in their shaking body that brought him back to the panic room, but in his soul. Eret’s soul was dark and unmoving, a flame gone out. A flame that had once burned so bright that it brought the world down with it.

Maybe they weren’t so different, after all.

The hybrid held out his arms and gathered Eret into a hug, tightening it when his body began to shake with the emotion that years in isolation had kept him from showing.

“Tommy and I used to be so close. He’d make these stupid paper crowns that always got ruined in the rain, but he’d run back inside and make more. He followed me around. I like to think that we were like brothers,” Eret’s voice cracked. “But then I went and ruined it, for a title that was never even real in the first place. And then, in Dream’s cavern, he hid behind me first, and I thought that maybe we’d get back what we had. But I saw him with Techno. Sam. Tubbo. He didn’t need me anymore. I thought that he’d need me just as much as I needed him, but when I plunged a knife into his back, he was the one that healed it when I should’ve. He’d grown up without me, and he would never need me back as much as I needed him. It hurt.”

Ranboo hummed, but stopped when his hand hit something damp. He pulled his hand back and to his horror, blood stained the fingertips. “Eret? Are you alright?”

Eret cackled. “I never was, Ranboo. I never was. They all realized that when they stopped visiting, or they would’ve, if they’d bother to check on me. But they didn’t. I was a whisper in an orchestra of tragedy, and no one heard me. Why would they? Some part of me didn’t want their help anyway. It’d just hurt them- no, me- more.”

Ranboo slowly helped Eret up, trying to remain calm. Trying to hold together a facade that Eret would lean on. Trying to help someone that needed his help more than ever. 

“C’mon, Eret. Let’s go home.” He walked past the dust, trying to kick up as little of it as possible. 

They’d made it pretty far into Sam’s forest before Eret went completely limp. Ranboo tried to not let the panic seep into his bones, but he knew that this was bad. Very, very bad. He set Eret down so that he was peacefully laying on the ground, and he messaged Sam his coordinates.

Hurry. Eret injured.

Sam’s response was swift.

Omw. stay put

It didn’t take long, as Sam was true to his word. Together, they lifted Eret up and managed to get back to Sam’s base, but it took longer than Ranboo would have liked. But then again, he couldn’t be picky.

As much as he wanted to stay, Sam made Ranboo leave the medical room that had been constructed. Sam’s eyes held too much regret to be healthy. Ranboo followed his order.

He walked out to where some of the others were. Tommy and Tubbo immediately went up to him, claiming that Sam had made them stay out of the way and wouldn’t tell them what happened. 

“It’s Eret.” Ranboo started, unsure of how they would take the news. “He’s uh… He’s been alone in the castle. Hasn’t forgiven himself for what happened.” He didn’t elaborate, but Tommy and Tubbo got the implication.

Tommy’s feathers fluffed up. “He’s been alone up there? I thought he’d left.” The unspoken ‘me’ at the end of the sentence echoed through the silence. No one had the courage to mention it. 

Fundy sniffled. “I- me, too.”

Tommy sat down and put a wing around Fundy, wincing a little at the pull on his feathers, but staying. They stayed that way until Sam came in, hair sweaty and hands suspiciously clean, as if he was hiding something.

When Sam walked in, they stood up, asking if Eret was okay.

“He will be,” Sam started, “but not for a while. His wounds need to heal.” He didn’t mention how deep they were. Physical and mental. 

Again, the hidden message was received. They were getting good at family communication, Ranboo mused. 

Eret needed a reminder that he was needed, and if he got it in the form of a fox barreling into his chest and a protective wing around his shoulder the minute he was awake, no one mentioned it. They didn’t need to, Eret was already part of the family. Puffy nearly cried the first time she visited to see him. They’d been old friends from lands that had been forgotten in the minds of many, and they missed each other more than they’d care to admit. Even Niki teared up a little, and offered him a room at their house. 

Eret was needed, and no matter how long it would take to convince them that it was true, they’d be there. No more would their love be lost to time, fated to be the wisps of a ghost wandering through the hall of a dark, abandoned castle with a crumbling throne.

_______________

Though he might not have realized it, Ranboo was gaining the odd little hobby of adopting strays. They were rarely animals, although there was the occasional bird or cat. But, no, they were mostly humans. Or at least, partially. Fundy, Eret, Purpled. It didn’t stop there, though. 

He’d remember the day that he found this particular stray for years after it had passed into the horizon of time, his questions lost to the winds of destiny. Some of them were never answered. 

Ranboo had another one of his itchy fits, which he was starting to think of as his sixth sense of someone in need. It’d been pretty accurate so far, but as he found his way to a gently rolling plains biome, there was nothing in sight. No one in sight. His itch had faded, instead replaced with a heavy feeling in his guts, keeping him there. 

It was towards dusk when something actually happened. The wind picked up and it got chilly, then cold, then freezing. Ranboo stood up and backed away a little, and if he squinted right, he could’ve sworn that the air was blowing in a circle formation.

It was- there, it was getting clearer. 

The colors started next, all purples and blues with hints of green and black. Ranboo realized a beat too late that it looked like a portal and therefore he should get out of the way more- instead, he was thrown down the hill in a tumble by the increasingly strong winds as he barely registered something (someone?) getting pushed out of the portal.

He stopped moving at the bottom of the hill and didn’t even bother getting back up before the winds had gone and all was peaceful again. Then, he climbed the gentle slope again.

He paused when he saw a lump on the peak, and froze more when it turned to look at him.

The brown hair was straggly and grimy, and the eyes told stories that his voice would never bear to tell. Ranboo recognized the hopeless look, but it wouldn’t occur to him until much later that it was the same look that had stared back at him in a water reflection back in the End. 

“Karl?” Ranboo asked incredulously.

Karl lay there, too weak to do anything but sigh in relief. 

Ranboo waited a moment for Karl to catch his breath before asking another question. “Are you okay?” It seemed the easiest of his questions to answer, but Karl still hesitated.

“I am now.”

If Ranboo was waiting for Karl to elaborate, he didn’t. At least, not then, but he did a bit later when he’d gotten the energy to sit up and look up at Ranboo.

“I’m a time traveler. D’you know that?” Ranboo wordlessly shook his head. It wasn’t the oddest thing to happen to him. “I can’t really control it, though. Not completely. I did what I could, though. Interfere to keep the worst things that might happen from actually happening. And, finally, I’m done. I can rest.”

Ranboo thought about that. “You knew I’d go to the End? Why didn’t you stop me?”

Karl hummed. “I actually didn’t. That’s unique to this timeline, but then again, so is this whole family you’ve got going on. There’s fragments of it across times, but nowhere as full and pure as this one.” Karl tried to look at Ranboo again, but flinched at the gaze of a red eye. “This is the best possible outcome, I think. Even if it has its faults.”

“Do you know what I’m going to do next? How do you know what timeline you’re in?” 

Karl looked up at the sky, thinking of a white city and the shining books left there for him. “I just do, uh…”

“Ranboo. My name is Ranboo. I can’t really blame you for forgetting, because it’s me, but… are you sure you’re okay?” The hybrid squinted at the man that still sat on the grass.

The man chuckled. “I like to say so, but… I’m losing myself. I barely remember Quackity, and…” His eyes filled with horror. “Who’s the one with the white headband? The name? Why can’t I remember?”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Ranboo said, sitting down as well. “His name is Sapnap. What else do you not remember?”

So, they sat there until the sun started setting, talking about everything and anything. Ranboo couldn’t help but feel the urge to protect someone who had memory issues like he did, and Karl? Well, Karl knew just what Ranboo had been through and what he would’ve gone through if he hadn’t placed that inconspicuous purple and black book right where Tommy would find it. 

They sat there until the stars showed their beauty, because the pair hadn’t had time to just rest and look at the sky in ages. Ranboo looked over eventually. Karl was looking tired, and if Ranboo was a time-traveling superhero, he would be, too.

“We have an extra room, if you want to rest.”

Karl smiled slightly, the lopsided grin looking odd on a face that had only known sadness and grief for so long. “Thanks, but no. I need to find Sapnap and Quackity. They’ve probably been wondering where I am, and I miss them.”

They both stood up and exchanged a hug. Ranboo sighed. “Well, don’t be a stranger. Bring them to visit sometime, too. You’re always welcome.”

They’d be parting there into opposite directions, but Karl paused to say one last thing. “Y’know, Ranboo? You’re the one thing keeping everything together. Without you, this world burned a long time ago.” Ranboo could see the flames in his eyes, and he knew that Karl wouldn’t lie. Not about that. “Just remember that. You’re important.”

With that, the two turned so their backs faced each other, and Ranboo made his way home. Sam was still up, waiting on him like a typical dad or older brother (he really was a mix of the two depending on who it was, wasn’t he?) would. 

“Where’ve you been, Ranboo?” It was clear Sam was concerned, even though he could’ve messaged any time.

“I was chatting with Karl. Sorry, we got caught up with the conversation.”

Sam visibly sagged with relief. “Alright. That’s fine, I was just-”

“Worried?” Ranboo teased. “Okay, dad.”

It was said in a joking way, but it was the first of many times. The second person to call Sam their dad wasn’t surprising. It was Tommy, of course, said in the midst of a wing-preening session. 

Tommy was purring, for when did he not, when his wings were involved? It just felt so nice-

Fundy laughed as Sam was preening Tommy’s wings. “Look at you! You just melt, awww.” It wasn’t said in a mean way, it was endearing and affectionate. 

Tommy managed to get a hand up to flip Fundy off. “Fuck off, fox boy.” This was said a little more maliciously, but there was no heat behind it. Not when the words were slurred with sleep and happiness.

Our favorite enderman hybrid walked in next, and sat down by Sam to help with Tommy’s wings. They all fought over who would help, but no one bothered to take Ranboo’s place. Sam must’ve touched a part that was particularly sensitive, because Tommy leaned into the touch with a ferocity that knocked Sam down.

“Whoa,” Sam said. “That’s new. You’re getting stronger.”

“Of course I am,” Tommy mumbled, “I am a big-” Ranboo touched his wings again.

“A big what?” Ranboo asked, a grin finding its way onto his face.

“A big m-”

Ranboo touched the wings again, and laughed as Tommy trailed off into another purr.

Sam smiled affectionately. “You’re a big softie, that’s what you are, Tommy. All of you guys are.”

While the others tried to protest, Tommy didn’t bother. He just wanted his wings to be touched more. “Only… Only for you, dad.” He leaned back into Sam and promptly fell asleep, and didn’t even wake up when the room laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

They all had a slumber party in the living room that night to watch a movie, and everyone got to take turns preening and petting Tommy’s wings. Eret looked overjoyed to be allowed to touch them, and at the end of it all, Tommy got distressed that he couldn’t cover everyone with his wings, so everyone crammed together so that he could as they watched a movie. 

“Whose foot is that, digging into my side?” Fundy asked, poking it.

“Mine, stop.” Ranboo said. Then, “Ow, who's pulling my hair?”

“My bad.” Tubbo said. “I can’t see the screen.”

Sam ducked down. “Sorry.”

Puffy and Niki were fine, cuddling at the edges of Tommy’s wings while Eret was curled into the feathers closer to Tommy. Purpled had been apprehensive about joining the group, but Tommy’s distressed trill had convinced him, so he found himself stretched across everyone as he was the last to join.

And, in the middle of the chaos, Tommy purred loud and contentedly, wings stretched across his family. He radiated warmth, and everyone knew he wasn’t even watching the movie in his cuddly euphoria.

Miles away, there was a house with three others, close and safe. Karl smiled as he watched a fireplace crackle, and he knew that finally, he’d done something right. He was safe, and so was everyone else. 

[willowistic22]

Red (Redfinch)

Despite their breakup, Albert still wanted to go see Finch perform in one of his concerts when Race asked him if he wanted to come. This is the perfect chance for them to talk things out again but words aren’t cooperating for either of them. With that, Finch decides to triy a different form of communication.

Words : 5233

Part : -

Warnings : Alcohol, cursing, cigarettes, angst in general

A/N : Woah that’s a crazy word count uhh,,,, hi i’m back with another fic. Another redfinch and for that we stan lol (well idk maybe yall are annoyed by all these redfinch fics but yknow what? i’m thriving off of it) But fr I’ll eventually get into writing other ships but for now have one more redfinch combined with another tswift songs (as you do) this time with Red. Wow we are so surprised who would have thought of redfinch being associated with the song red no we aren’t surprise :D This one specifically exists in my bandsies au. you don’t need to read that first to understand this (i think?) but it wouldn’t hurt if you checked that out as well:) Tbh i can’t decide whether i love it or hate it but at least i like it enough to post it. N ee wayysss enjoy!!

His brain is screaming about how much Albert shouldn’t be doing this. Comprising a list of cons that goes on forever. And although he thinks all of the cons his brain had written is logical, that one pro his heart wrote beside the long list was all it took for Al to say yes. All the cons will be worth suffering through if he finally gets to see Finch again. And maybe it’s for the better since he’s not doing well by distancing himself from the boy.

Unfortunately, the world isn’t black and white. Meaning that even if he did choose to follow what his heart wants, all the horrible feelings will still be there. And with every step he takes, inching closer to the entrance of the building, he’s getting even more terrified by the second. Thankfully, the line for the entrance is going pretty slow which gives time for Albert to calm down.

But it’s not helping. The line is crowded and full of fans, talking excitedly about the band’s awaiting concert inside. For some odd reason, he can only hear the conversations between fans that contain one specific name. He doesn’t hear anyone mentioning Romeo, Elmer, or Jojo’s name. Not even Crutchie, who he’s been told to be the fans’ favorite. Just the name Finch, being repeated all around him. With adoration and excitement lacing the name. The line is delaying the inevitable and the people around him makes him a bit overwhelmed.

“We can still turn around if you want. I’m sure they’ll find a way to give us a refund”

If he’s actually being honest, it was his best friend that got him to come. Race returned to their shared apartment a few weeks ago and rushed to ask Albert if he wanted to go see their friends performing tonight. Race knows about Al and Finch’s break up but it’s worth asking him first. And to his surprise, he said yes.

“No, it’s fine” Albert replied, “I’m fine”

“You’re picking your pimples right now”

“So?”

“It’s one of your nervous habits”

That piece of information really caught Al off guard. He didn’t think a tiny random fact about himself would actually corner him the way Race is doing now. Eyeing Albert through his glasses and raising his eyebrows despite his forehead being mostly covered by his beanie.

“Well… I-” Albert tried to come up with bullshit as fast as he could, “I like to do it on purpose too, alright?! My fingers just... get a little itchy!”

He slowly puts his hands down from previously reaching up to pick his face. And the line is still going slow, one step at a time. It’s not doing any favors for Al.

“Dude, it’s alright if you’re not ready to see him” Race continued, “It takes time, I get it”

“Race, I’ll be fine! How many more times do I have to tell you?” Albert argued, which finally made Race back down. And to make sure it’s no longer gonna be brought up, Al changes the subject, “By the way, where’s Specs and Mike? You said they’re watching too”

“They’re already backstage with the others for...  obvious reasons” Race answered casually, catching on to Albert's intentions to change the subject. “So is Kath, by the way. We’ll meet her in there though”

To that, Albert simply nods. His jittery movements turn into rocking his body on the ball of his feet while digging his lips with his teeth. Race tries to pretend he doesn’t notice, but he does. Albert knows he does. Although he’s glad he’s not bringing it up because it might make it worse.

He’d be lucky to know that he’s not the only one panicking over this. In the dressing room, an aggravated Finch throws his phone to the cushion of the couch after sending the last text to his friend Race. It sounds unlawful for Race to be ‘secretly updating’ Finch on how Albert is actually doing because it’s obviously something Albert doesn’t want to directly tell his ex.

Finch groans, placing his elbow on his armchair to support his head. The room is spinning in his view and he wishes it all to stop. Taking deep and long breaths to stabilize his shaky limbs. A little prayer starts playing in his heart, it follows the tempo of his fast heartbeat.

“He’s here, isn’t he?”

Finch opens his eyes and looks up to meet his bandmate sitting on the couch across from him. He hadn’t even been talking for a good hour because he’s too fixated with the first text Race sent him when he and Al first started making their way to the concert.

“Yeah, he’s in line” Finch replied, looking up to the blond boy who’s holding his bass.

“How are they not being mobbed?” Another voice rang. This time it’s not coming from one of Finch’s bandmates. It’s coming from Race and Albert’s bandmate, sitting next to the shortest member of Finch’s band on the couch.

Specs only ask that because their two bands have a long connecting history and their fanbase tends to be sort of the same in a way. With Specs dating Romeo and Mike dating Jojo, Race and Albert are bound to be recognized and mobbed by at least a few fans. Especially seeing that Albert is Finch’s former lover, although the fans know that as a rumor since the two never publicly addressed it.

“I’m assuming they’re wearing a lot of shit to cover their faces” Another answered, the other VIP of the show alongside Specs, Mike. He’s twirling his drink in his hand while the other keeps Jojo cuddled close to him, “I mean, Al’s head is really fucking bright!”

With the mention of that specific name, Finch sulks back in his armchair with a groan. He covers his face with his hands, hoping it’d make the world just stop for one second. He could hear a loud clean slap echoing the room, followed by overlaps of whispered scolding. If he had to guess, it was Mike who was the one getting slapped and scolded.

“This is a disaster…” Finch exclaimed to himself, still not lifting his face up.

“It doesn’t have to be unless you make it like that” this time a feminine voice spoke up. A voice he recognized to belong to Kath.

Finch hears footsteps approaching him. He feels the motion of someone softly kneeling down in front of him. His hands were gently pried open and he was met with Kath’s friendly smile.

“It takes time, but you gotta trust the process”

It’s not necessarily the words he needed to hear right now, but it still warms his heart to hear his friend still being there for him despite the sticky situation he has gotten them into.

Everything would’ve been just fine if Finch hadn’t been so pushy and upset over Albert’s decision. He was the one that decided to put his music career on hold to go get that engineering degree, which frankly seems pretty useless. Finch was so dirty for pulling the ‘you’re being selfish’ card at him when it’s not even his band at all. Race, Specs, Mike, Ike, and even their manager Denton were very supportive about his decision to get that degree. Heck, all their friends were! But not Finch. His boyfriend at the time. He argued like he secretly knew how the others felt about Al leaving when really there aren’t any secret feelings for him to know. All his arguments came from his own feelings.

However, he knows Albert’s ‘own decision’ was secretly coated by his father’s persuasive words. The whole ‘just in case the music career doesn’t work out’ argument was basically the copy and pasted words from his father. They both know it. Despite the arguments, it still seemed that Al was determined to fully focus on college anyways. Instead of following his fellow musician friends’ college path by getting a degree in the non-lecture-hall way, he followed his father’s words and actually attended his college classes in a proper campus.

In the moment, Finch was just too focused on Albert leaving. Maybe he was the one being selfish. He had only realize now that most of his arguments were because he didn’t want Albert to go. It’s too late now, since the last time they saw each other was when Al slammed the door of their apartment one last time with all his stuff and a plane ticket to Seattle. At that point, Finch was finally tired of all the arguing and told him that if this was his plan then he’s on his own.

The tears that came after were filled with sorrow and regret. Sorrowful because he missed him. Regretful because he only realized then that there was no valid reason for Finch to lash out in the first place other than for his own needs. The feeling is still present to this moment. And it’s currently the strongest right before a show because he knows he’s gonna be in the crowd.

“Look, we’ll let ya drown out your feelings with some booze later” Crutchie finally said, “But right now we got a show”

The band was all getting up from where they were seated, bringing whatever they needed to the stage. Crutchie gets some help from Jojo to bring his Bass till he properly sits on the stool on stage. But Finch stays perfectly still, holding Kath’s hand as if his life depends on it.

“I know I should talk to ‘im, Kath” Finch finally said, slowly joining the others in standing up. Kathrine follows along, eyes still fixed to her friend, “But… I can’t. I wouldn’t know what to say to him”

“Then don’t talk” Mike suddenly inserts himself in their little conversation. He gets up and approaches the two, “Sing him the new single”

“You’re fucking insane, Mike!” Katherine instantly snapped.

“Alright, your mouth will be legally sealed shut till the end of the concert” Specs joins them only to drag Mike away. There were some protests from the boy, but it was totally shut down by everyone else in the room.

“No, wait. He’s got a point” Finch suddenly exclaimed, which quickly got the whole room to freeze in time.

He looks at his bandmates, all standing by the doorway ready to kill the concert. A half confident smile appears on his face and he says, “Let’s sing that single”

-

The concert is held in a bar like-venue with multiple floors, slowly being filled to the brim by excited fans. Their excitement bounces off the walls of the venue, creating an ecstatic kind of environment despite the tight space. The concert is going to start any minute now and while the fans surrounding him are shaking in excitement, Albert is shaking in a nervous fit.

“Still okay there, Al?”

Albert looked to his side, seeing his good friend Kathrine looking up to meet his eyes with concern. She had just joined the boys in the midst of the crowd after hanging out behind the stage with the band.

“What? Yeah, I’m okay” He replied, “What makes you think I’m not?”

“You’re squeezing my hand a little too tight”

Al had only realized he’s been holding Kath’s hand just now. His brain was too focused on his fears about meeting Finch again to the point that he hasn’t been paying attention to his surroundings. He gets bashful all of a sudden, cheeks going a bit warm, harshly pulling away from her grasp.

“It’s okay, you can hold my hand if you want,” Katherine said gently.

“Kath, I’m fine!” Albert said, “Why won’t you and Race believe me?”

“Because we know it’s utter bullshit”

The pair looked back towards the crowd behind them where the familiar voice originated from. There, Race struggles through a sea of people with two drinks in hand. Oddly enough, he still seems to stand the heat despite still wearing his face disguise. A white cotton mask, black-framed glasses, and a grey beanie mostly providing cover for his blond curls. While Al, seeing that the venue is pretty dark and speculations has led him to believe that the fans would be focused on the concert rather than the people attending it, had already put away his mask. However, his fears still made him wear his snapback and grey-framed glasses just in case.

Albert takes his rightful drink, and with a free hand, Race takes off his own mask and stuffs it in his pockets. He complains about the stuffiness from wearing the mask all while doing so, which made Kath laugh. It appears the Albert-scolding has been forgotten for the time being, as Kath and Race starts engaging in their own conversation, which Al doesn’t mind because he’d much like to down his beer quickly.

And then the concert finally starts.

An exciting intro starts playing as the band enters the stage. The wild crowd welcoming the band is deafening to Albert’s ear. Time freezes and everything in between fades away. All he sees is Finch, up on stage wearing a smile brighter than the lighting of the venue itself. He’s using his old dark green guitar. The same one he uses when he’s writing songs in bed or when he just feels like strumming the strings. Albert remembers the memoirs of all the guitar string scars he had earned throughout the years of knowing him. Some of them were even caused by Albert himself.

Lucky that Finch hasn’t noticed Albert has been staring at him the whole time. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of the boy since the start of the first song, shimmering under the spotlight with amazing vocals. Laughing about at his fellow bandmates’ antics on stage. Oh, that laugh. It gives him butterflies in his stomach like it was the first time hearing it.

He can feel two pairs of familiar eyes on him. But he’s too far gone to care. Albert really did make a big mistake for letting Finch go that easy. Because at the end of his previous college days, he still loves him and misses him dearly. His little Finchy. It doesn’t matter to Al anymore if Race and Katherine are eyeing him with sorrow or the whole world were to look at him weirdly for fixating his own eyes towards the beautiful boy on stage. He was his beautiful boy. Good lord, does he long to see the days when he got to call Finch his.

“Holy shit, I fucked up” Albert muttered under his breath, only Kath and Race could hear it, “I should’ve never had left”

His friends were definitely not expecting Albert to verbally exclaim his regret. They already knew from the start despite the redhead’s previous denials. But hearing him say it just makes it all more real. Even Albert himself was hit by a truck of reality just by loudly announcing it.

“Well, now you know” Katherine started, gentle voice on the same volume as his own despite the volume of their current surroundings being incredibly loud, “Go tell him that after the show”

“I can’t. I shouldn’t” Albert replied, fully turning away from the stage to properly look at his friends. A glint of sorrow and desperation flashes before his face, “I might make things worse!”

“Well, you’ll never know till you try” Race said, sounding a little hesitant at the start. He offered a warm smile at his friend and a hand on his shoulder, since there isn’t much he could do in the moment.

With a heavy sigh, Albert turns back towards the stage only to witness the biggest surprise of his life. Finch looked back. Straight into Albert’s eyes, it pierced right through to get his heart thumping loudly in his ears. He just realized the song the band was previously playing had ended and they were waiting for the fans to quiet down. While Romeo playfully over-dramatize his thank you’s to the crowd and gets scolded by Elmer and Crutchie, Finch was continuously staring at Albert. The hands that were previously used to play with his guitar hang idly because his center of attention wasn’t at his instrument right now.

It might just be some form of hallucination Al retained from the high, but Finch seemed to be smiling at him a little. Just a little curve at the end of his lips while he’s still staring back.

Albert doesn’t know how to interpret this other than to just stare back. Deep down, his heart is flipping in all kinds of ways and his thought process is no longer comprehensible. He’s trying to read the other boy’s emotions but it’s too neutral to tell. Other than the fact that he’s smiling a little at him but that still doesn’t give him a proper answer.

Eventually Finch becomes the first one to look away, seeing that the audience had settled down for the band. Albert’s eyes were still glued to Finch, retaining his focus back to the concert. He opens his mouth for a moment to say something into his microphone, although he unexpectedly stopped. The flow of words seemed to cut short. He saved himself by pulling himself away from the microphone up front and towards the rest of his bandmates. Judging from the body language, they seem to be whispering.

“What’s happening?” Albert whispered, more to himself rather than to his friends.

“I’m not sure…” Race replied, taking a step closer to where Al is standing.

The band kept the discussion short and quickly got back to their places. Finch seems to hesitate the second time he opens his mouth to speak. But this time, he gets the words out.

“Uhh… sorry ‘bout that. I uhh… I just got the urge to go a bit out of our fixed setlist and uhh… hope you guys don’t mind” Finch explained with a little giggle at the end. The crowd couldn’t care less and cheered on. Finch smile widens at the agreement, “We thought we’d give ya an early access to our newest single that hasn’t been released yet”

A euphoric feeling passed through the crowd as the cheering got louder. It baffled Finch so much that he laughed into his mic.

“Oh my god, they’re actually doing it” Katherine commented under her breath.

But Al’s ears were sharp enough to catch it. He snaps his head around to face the girl behind him, “Do what?”

Katherine was rendered speechless to that question, despite obviously knowing what’s going on. Albert turns to Race but he has no idea. He finally turns back to the stage where Finch’s gaze was already waiting to be returned by Al himself.

Without breaking the gaze, Finch speaks into the mic with a little smile, “It’s called ‘Red’”

It was Albert’s turn to be speechless. He had no knowledge of a new single since he’s mostly been staying away from his ex’s social media for the sole purpose of moving on, which he had failed miserably. And none of his friends had told him anything about a single that’s title was a secret language only Finch and Albert share, littered with all sorts of vintage romance.

“Holy shit…” Race exclaimed, “...I had no idea they were gonna play this song”

The opening of the song starts with Jojo lightly plucking a few strings of his acoustic guitar. The crowd goes wild once again, energy bouncing off one wall to the other.

“Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street

Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly”

Crutchie sang the first line smoothly. At this point the other’s had joined in with their instrument. Finch fully ignoring the crowd and focused on looking at Al. Those blue eyes are trying to send a message to Albert and it’s being coded with the song they’re currently playing.

The song had carried on till it reached the chorus. All the instruments peaked at that moment and collaborated with each other to create a very euphoric sound. The crowd jumps along to the beat of the song along with a loud cheering, obviously enjoying the tune they have yet to listen to. Some were holding up cameras to capture this moment, most likely to later share it with the fans that didn’t get the chance to witness it live.

At this point, Finch had turned his face away from Al. There was a troubling look in his expression but it was quickly covered by closing his eyes as if he’s trying to concentrate on singing the chorus with the others. But Al is no fool. He knows that look on Finch’s face is when he’s trying to avoid something, and that something is him.

“Losing him was blue, like I'd never known

Missing him was dark gray, all alone

Forgetting him was like trying to know

Somebody you never met

But loving him was red”

The words moved something in Al. It was written in a way Albert recognized it to be Finch’s writing style. Every single part of the song. From the melody, the chord progression, even the lyrics. Especially the lyrics.

“Fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword

And realizing there's no right answer

Regretting him was like wishing you never found out

That love could be that strong”

As Finch harmonized that line with Jojo, he stole a little sad side glance at Albert. The song returns to the chorus once again, Finch gets dragged with the beat and lightly moves his body along.

Albert gets captivated along with the music. He can feel the corner of his lips slightly rising up, which is pretty ironic seeing that Finch is singing a breakup song about them. Maybe because he’s relieved to hear Finch sing about how he’s not fully over him. Or maybe it’s because he gets to see Finch embracing the break up, which could potentially mean that he’s okay with it. But whatever it is, he’s happy seeing Finch like this. Or just seeing him in general.

“Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes

Tell myself it's time now gotta let go

But moving on from him is impossible

When I still see it all in my head”

The chord progression’s pattern slightly changed. Finch sings his line into the microphone, closing his eyes as if to soak up all the intoxicating energy he gets from the crowd. Of people flailing their hands into the sky and a loud chorus of undecipherable shouting. But at the last line, he steals a proper glance back at Albert.

“In burning red”

The lyrics really says it all. There’s no more hidden message that Albert needs to decipher, as it's being presented right in front of him.

Finch takes over the next part of the song, shredding his guitar which makes the crowd go wild. At the moment, it looks like he’s feeling himself. Moving along with the motion of his fingers that creates each note.

“Oh, losing him was blue, like I'd never known

Missing him was dark gray, all alone

Forgetting him was like trying to know

Somebody you never met

'Cause loving him was red”

The song is supposed to be a punch to Albert’s guts, and yet he finds himself laughing at it. He catches a glimpse of Finch’s eyes, sneaking its way to look back at Albert every so often. And this time, he wears a smile while jumping along to the song. And it made Al smile back.

“His love was like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street”

As the song ended, the fans went wild. The look on Finch’s face seems satisfied at the success of the single they have yet been released to the world, shining at the sight of a hype crowd. He steals one last glance at Albert with a little smile on his face. Albert would dare to say he’s being a bit shy. To that, Albert smiles back with a disbelief laugh escaping his lips before Finch pulls his gaze away from the other boy.

After playing a few more songs, the concert ended. There was only one thing in Albert’s mind, which was talking to Finch. Race and Albert quickly put their disguise back on before the crowd had realized who they were as they exited the venue. The three stay behind as the venue gets emptied, Race and Katherine making quick work with their fingers on their phones to contact their friends backstage.

Jojo was the first to respond to either of them. He said that Finch is smoking behind the venue alone. One could only assume that he’s not in his best state after spontaneously choosing to sing that single. But Jojo assured them that he’s still good to talk to. Crutchie then responded, saying that Specs and Mike can pick them up to get them into the backstage.

It didn’t take them long, but Albert wasn’t keen on seeing the others right now. After being pointed towards the back door, Albert was already off. Adrenaline coursing through his veins as he makes quick steps towards it.

He gently opens the door, to avoid surprising the boy in case he was nearby. Albert steps out to a parking lot, open-spaced with another parking lot above it as its roof. At a first glance it was completely empty, only a few lights turned on to keep the area lit. His eyes gandered even further and spotted the boy he was looking for, back facing Al and his body leaning on metal bars as he enjoyed the nightlife of the city.

Albert took a deep breath to calm his adrenaline, slowing down his walking pace. The area is eerily quiet. Only a few things that can be heard: his footsteps, his thumping heart, and the sounds coming from the streets three stories below them. With every step closer, he slowly unraveled his makeshift disguise. Shoving his mask and glasses in the pockets of his jeans but left the snapback on.

“‘Loving him was red’” Albert said to catch Finch’s attention, “Did you mean it to be that obvious?”

Finch didn’t fully turn his head around, only halfway so Al can see the little grin of amusement forming on his face. A little chuckle escaped his lips, causing his chest to pulse along before he continued, “Not really. But it has a nice ring to it”

Albert takes a few steps closer towards the metal bars, leaning his body on it like what Finch is doing. Now he can clearly see the half burnt cigarette on Finch’s hand. Al tries to make eye contact with him, but Finch is purposely turning his head the other way and giving Albert his head full of blond curls.

“You came back” Finch suddenly said, voice hushed and low.

“Of course I came back” Albert replied, “You didn’t think I’d fully leave like that, did’ja?”

“Well, no. It’s just that you seemed so hellbent on going to college”

Albert slowly nods at that, moving his gaze towards the streets below like the other boy. They sit in the silence for a few minutes. Hearing different vehicles pass by the street below them and honking from the distance.

“Finch, I’m so sorry I left ya like that” Albert suddenly started, fully turning his face towards him. He couldn’t find a way to word it and so he resorted to just telling him the truth. Finch stays quiet to let him continue, “I was an idiot to let ya go that easily and all because I was selfish”

“You weren’t actually being selfish” Finch said, smiling a little at his words, “You did it because you wanted to. And it wasn’t hurting anyone anyways”

“It did. It hurt you”

Finch turns his head towards Albert. Now their eyes are looking into each other closer than before. The closest they’ve ever been since their breakup. A mixture of unsaid emotions made the gaze feel so intimate and it terrifies Al a bit. 

“I hurt myself trying to get you to stay” Finch said softly. His next words got stuck in his throat. He gives his brain a few seconds to focus with a sigh out of his mouth and dragging his gaze away from Al, “I knew you never wanted to get that engineering degree in the first place which is another reason I didn’t want you to go. But at the end of the day, it was your decision to make and not mine. I lashed out on you and said you were selfish but… I was the one that was being selfish”

Finch turns his eyes back towards Al, his face looks more sorrowful than before, “I’m sorry”

A small smile formed on Al’s face, tilting his head to the side by a few inches, “It ain’t your fault for knowing me more than I know myself”

They leave the conversation at that for the time being. Letting the streets below fill the void of their silence. Both boys focusing their gaze towards the view they got from this height they’re on again. Finch and Albert left speechless at each other’s words.

Albert’s hands unconsciously reach up to his forehead, itching to pick a pimple like earlier. His next words almost got stuck in his throat but he was able to pull through just enough to get to his point, “Well, at the end of the day we uhh… we both fucked up. Fucked our relationship, that’s for sure-”

“Stop picking on your pimples, Al” Finch casually said. The surprise look on Al’s face got Finch to side eye him with a giggle.

Al pulled his fingers away, stuttering in his movements but still continued on his words with more confidence, “What I’m trying to say is… I want to try again as long as you’re willing to”

There was a good few seconds of silence that Finch used to just stare at him. Albert could only wonder what he’s thinking about inside that head, “So we just… what? Forget the breakup ever happened? Move back in together? You know I can’t just do that, right?”

“That’s not what I mean. We don’t need to rush things. I know you can’t do that” Albert said, “Just… let me start by making it up to you? Whatever you want. Just name it”

Finch didn’t respond instantly, letting the silence between them linger for a few more minutes. But it’s deeply agonizing to Albert’s ears. A blank space of two eyes locked in a gaze, and one is obviously dying to get out of it.

“Please, say something” Albert begged. Hands suddenly reaching back up to his face to pick on his pimples again.

With a free hand, Finch reaches towards Al’s hand on his face. He pulls it down to the bars, holding it in place to make sure it doesn’t repeat its mistakes again. The grip was firm, but warm and calming to Albert’s soul. It made him go blank for a good few seconds from being so touch deprived of Finch’s soft hands. He retains his sense of reality when their eyes finally meet again.

With a little smile forming on Finch’s face, he finally answers, “I’d like that very much”