#just saw new photos of michael’s jack and i’m sobbing

[uppastthejelliclemoon]

it’s actually biphobic that i can’t go see the uk newsies production AND i can’t see il sistina cats

[somedayonbroadway]

8 for fanfic writing

8) What is a scene that you wrote that you are most proud of?

Okay, this is a difficult one to answer. I write lots of scenes that don’t even get published and I still love them to death.

If I had to chose one though, it’s one of the scenes in one of my chapter fics called Top Secret. If there’s anything I love writing, it’s suspense.

It’s the scene after Race catches Jack doing something very dangerous and unexpected. Jack pretends he’s never met Race before when Race has the chance to confront him.

Then this scene happens...

The elevator was going to take too long. Stairs! Take the damn stairs, you idiot!

He could already be too late.

He ran up four flights of stairs. He was barely winded by the end of it, only breathing hard because of the panic swirling around in his head.

Rushing up to his own door, Jack fumbled in his pocket for his keys. But when he unlocked the door, he tried to open it only for it to get stuck. Something was blocking it. So he knocked on the door with purpose and tried to shove the thing open. "Racer! Open the door!" he demanded, his fear and worry inadvertently swirling into frustration.

"No! Go away!" came the reply of a little boy who was so obviously shaken.

"Goddamn it, Anthony Michael Higgins Junior! Open the door n' let me explain!"

"Leave me alone!"

Jack growled. "I swear to God, Racer... I need ta talk to ya. J'st open the door!" After all of these years... after all of his fighting and all his struggling... he couldn't lose this boy.

After trying to throw the door open by throwing his body weight against it, Jack shook his head and moved over to the next door on his left. It was opened almost immediately. "Jack, baby, what's wrong?"

"Racer's havin' a breakdown..." Jack forced out, shaking his head in frustration. "I'm sorry, Miss Medda, c'n I use your window?"

Medda nodded immediately, stepping aside and gesturing for Jack to step in. The young man did. Rushing through, he caught sight of Katherine in the kitchen, cleaning off some dishes. "Hey, baby..." he muttered before sliding up next to her and giving her a quick peck on the lips. She smiled at him, not even saying a word. "I'm sorry 'bout rushin' out!" he called as he was walking away again, stopping only to press a kiss to Crutchie's forehead. The boy was dozing on the couch, his leg propped up on a few pillows. "Hey, Crutch..."

"Is Race okay?" he asked drowsily. Jack only smiled a little at that.

"He's gonna be fine, kiddo... I'm just gonna take him for a drive, see if it calms him down..." Jack soothed, beginning to walk over to the window at the back wall, sliding it open.

"Hey, Jackie? Did Race follow you ta work t'day? He said he w's gonna an' he wouldn't talk ta me afta' school..." Jack froze. This was so damn hard.

"No... I didn't see 'im..." And before anyone else could ask him anything else, he was slipping out the window.

Race curled in on himself on the couch. He had a backpack next to him, filled up with clothes and all the money he could scrounge up from his room, after all some psychopath had his wallet. He was debating with himself. He should get Crutchie. Maybe they could leave together. But Crutchie wouldn't believe him. Crutchie would try to stop him. But Jack wouldn't ever hurt Crutchie...

Then again, Race thought Jack would never hurt him.

Lost in thought, the boy hadn't heard footsteps coming towards him from the hallway. Not until he looked over and saw the man that he feared so much walking over to him. Race shot up, backing away as quick as Jack was advancing on him, but when Jack realized it, he slowed to a stop, carefully raising up his hands as a sign of peace. "Hey, hey, hey, kiddo... relax, okay? I know you're scared-"

"Stop!" Race demanded, grabbing the back pack off of the couch, and slinging it over his shoulder. "J'st... stop." He was staring at the man at the end of the hallway. This was the man that had always fought so hard to protect him. But Race had scene him today doing awful things. It was like he didn't even know him at all. "You're gonna try ta get in my head, just like her... so just don't, okay?"

Reluctantly, Jack shut his mouth, clenching his jaw and trying to just beg his baby brother to hear him out without even saying the words. But Race just lost it all over again, tears running down his face and shaky breaths entering his lungs. "William Snyder? Really? That's who you work for?" the boy asked, both disappointment and fear radiating off of him. "He's the most dangerous man in New York, Jack! He's killed people!"

"Racer, you have to calm down-" Jack tried, taking a step forward only for the boy to counter it.

"And Francis Sullivan... your dad's name... Jack... this ain't you!" Race cried backing up even more, reaching for the door.

"No, it ain't, baby brother, but ya gotta let me explain!" Jack begged, beginning to get desperate. He couldn't let Race walk away. Not that easy. There had to be something he could do to make it stop. "Anthony, you don't know what's gonna happen if you don't sit'cha ass down an' let me talk ta ya." He didn't. His brother would be in a world of hurt if he didn't just listen to what Jack had to say.

With a shake of his head, Race just began walking towards the door with purpose, trying not to show how petrified he was of the man he'd once run to for everything. "I don't wanna hear it, Jack, or Sully, or whateva' the hell your name is! I'm gonna go get Charlie n'... n' we'll go find ma..."

Jack hated what he knew he had to do next. He hated it with everything inside of him. "You ain't eva' goin' near that manipulative bitch again!" he stated, his eyes widening at the very thought. He reached into his pocket, a cloth gathering in his hand as he slowly advanced on the boy at the door.

"Ya know what, Jack, she ain't the best motha', but she neva' pretended that she was a good one." Those words hurt. Jack had to take a sharp breath to steady himself when those piercing blue eyes turned back to glare at him as Race was hesitating by the door after moving the chair that had been blocking it. This was his chance.

"Racer... I'm serious, pal... back away from the door or you're gonna regret it." He wished things were different. Truly, he did. But they weren't. This was his life and whether his brothers knew it or not, this was their life too. But Race wasn't listening. He put his hand on the doorknob, ready to leave. "Tony... I don't wanna have ta do this..."

"Just leave me alone, Jack..." Race breathed out, not exactly ready to leave behind the life that he'd been working so hard to be comfortable in. Maybe if he'd succeeded all that time ago, life would be better for them. Maybe if they'd just let him go, they wouldn't have this problem, and Crutchie could live his whole life thinking he had the perfect big brother who would always protect him and care about him. Maybe if Race was gone right now, things would be different.

Finally taking a breath and knowing leaving was his only option, not trusting his big brother in the slightest anymore, Race turned the handle and opened the door, only for it to be slammed back shut by a stronger hand right next to the boy's shoulder. "I can't let ya do this," Jack said, suddenly looking even more dangerous in Race's eyes. Race did the only thing he could think of.

He ran.

He dodged Jack's arms and made a beeline for the nearest fire escape, his big brother right behind him the whole way. "Stop it, Anthony! I don't wanna hurt you!"

"Then don't!" the boy cried, trying to pull open a window in the kitchen, only to feel that Jack was about to make his move. Jack's arms wrapped around him from behind, pinning the boy to his chest and before Race could think how to fight him off, the man was dragging his arms behind him, trying to pin them between their bodies. "Let me go!" Race sobbed out, struggling against his big brother. "Help! Please! Somebody help!"

"Shhh!" Jack hissed, finally able to hold the boy's arms behind him with one of his arms after he shoved the backpack to the ground, before bringing out the cloth and smothering it over the teenager's mouth and nose. Race started screaming harder as Jack dragged him back, away from the windows and into the middle of the apartment again. His brother was still putting up a hell of a fight and Jack couldn't help but try to hold back tears. "Don't fight it, kid... please don't fight it..." he murmured into his boy's ear, leaning his forehead up against the side of his baby brother's head, trying to soothe him even as he was trying to knock him out. "Just breathe it in, Racer... I promise it'll be okay..." He had Race's head back against his shoulder as the boy still tried to fight him off.

It was a long while before Race obeyed, only because he couldn't fight it any longer. The child moaned as his legs gave out on him. He blinked wildly, desperate to keep his eyes open, only for them to roll back into his head as he lost consciousness. Jack sighed in relief and let the weight of the boy pull them both to the ground. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Jack kept muttering, pulling the boy into his lap and removing the cloth from his face, pocketing it and letting himself breath for a moment as he relentlessly apologized to the boy who couldn't hear him.

The boy was now a dead weight on his lap in the middle of the living room. Jack breathed hard, cradling his brother to him and slowly smoothing the hair away from his face as he held tightly to the kid, finally giving into the fear that was only growing inside him. As he pressed a loving kiss to his brother's forehead, his eyes drifted to a picture sitting on the table right next to the couch.

They all looked so happy. Him, his boys who were so much younger, and the man that had his arms around them. His brown hair ended in loose curls that fell just above his eyes; his bright blue eyes stood out above all else. Jack shook his head and let the tears begin falling as he couldn't take his eyes off of the stupid photo. "I'm so sorry..." he muttered, burying his face in his baby brother hair.

For a moment, Jack just rocked his brother back and forth in his arms. He was still here. This could all be okay.

The vibrating of the man's cell phone made him jump a little. He sniffled and swallowed, clearing his throat before he answered the thing. "Kelly," he said as he slid the call open. "Yeah, I got him... I had ta use the chloroform..." he admitted, looking back down at the boy's peaceful face. The kid hadn't looked so sound since... ever. "Look, I don't need a lecture right now..." his voice shook at that as he lay Race down even lower and ran a hand through the kid's hair. "I's gonna bring him in... I'll be there soon." And with that he hung up the phone.

As gently as he could, Jack scooped Race up in his arms and lay him out on the couch, rushing to go change into sweats and a t-shirt before going back into the main room and once again cradling the boy to his chest. "It'll be okay, kiddo... I promise, it'll be okay..."

And boy, did he hope it would be.

It was the first time I had ever really written Jack and Race truly at odds, almost like they’re on different sides and no one knew what Jack was doing. I love that Jack is trying to calm Race down even as he’s drugging him and how Race is thinking that he can talk sense into Jack and make him “wake up” in a sense. I think this might’ve been the first time I’d had Race truly be afraid of Jack.

It was an interesting one to write.

Thank you for asking!

[pomegranate-belle]

For Day 3 of MattFoggy Week: Matt Murdock Appreciation/Favorite Matt Moment

This is... Kinda late in the day to post, but I waffled for a long time. The next chapter of the Netflix/616 crossover would’ve been perfect for today’s theme, but it’s just not done yet. Instead, have some little bits and pieces from my WIP for the Marvel TV Bang, including one of my favorite Matt moments (who could choose just one??) aka Baby’s First Act of Vigilantism; apologies to the mods if these are still supposed to be anonymous but I figured that was just for art claims purposes--

((The premise of this fic is that NYC summons Matt to protect itself from Fisk (also a demon). Since the City has no soul of its own to sell, it lets Matt choose any person he wants. ;) Three guesses who the lucky winner ends up being--))

--

When Matthew Murdock dies, his hands are inches from the throat of the man who ordered his father’s murder, close enough that he can feel Roscoe Sweeney’s body heat against the pads of his fingers, pulsing like blood. They get no closer than that.

He takes a single bullet to the base of his skull, and can still feel the burn of it when he no longer has a skull to feel at all.

Matthew Murdock falls through the cracks, the way he always has. His body is destroyed beyond recognition and dumped without ceremony or care into the East River. There’s no one to miss him. No one to wonder if his soul has passed on.

It hasn’t.

The devil in him claws to the surface, clings to the City, clings to revenge, laughs at the way the City – webbed with energy and darkness and pain like a cracked windowpane – clings back. And even when the rest falls away, all the senses that remain falling silent with no input at all, there’s a piece the City in Matt and a piece of Matt in the City. A seed of each one in the other, a place where they’re the same – ravenous, protective, wounded.

And so perhaps in the end that’s the reason – the reason that, eleven years later when the City feels its first stirrings of true fear, it pulls Matthew Murdock out of the nothing, out of the void, out of the Ether. Draws him like a blade from that empty realm of demons and offers him anything he asks for.

--

The first thing he hears as he gasps in his first breath is screaming. Everything screaming. Himself, screaming. Every sense warring with the unprecedented, sudden onslaught of information. It’s like being blinded all over again.

… All over again.

Because he was. Blind. Before, yes. Before the aching gulf of nothing, before the Ether. Before it, he’d been… He’d been…

Matthew, the City seems to sing, soothing him from its barrage of sounds and smells and textures. Matthew Michael Murdock.

Yes. It all comes back to him, leeching through him like blood through veins – Jack Murdock, the accident, the orphanage, Stick… The mobsters.

The gun.

One shaking hand reaches for the back of his neck, but there’s no scar beneath his sensitive fingertips. Just soft skin and the wispy, silken brush of hair. The City has made him whole again. Bright and shiny and new.

And older. He must… He must be older, he thinks to himself, because he had been only seventeen when he died and he feels sturdier, a little taller than he did then. When Matt rubs a hand across his face, shakily assessing the differences in his body, he feels the itchy rasp of stubble where before there had been nothing but smooth skin.

The clothes he’s wearing are different too, not the simple, threadbare things he’d had on – hand-me-downs from the orphanage. Instead, the fabric against his skin is soft, gentle. High in quality, fitted like a dream. A button-up shirt, a silk tie, a suit jacket and slacks. Dress shoes. There are a pair of glasses perched on his nose. He pulls them off slowly, runs the pad of his thumb along the edge of the frames. Round. Matt slips them back onto his face. He tries to imagine the picture he makes. Professional, maybe. Like the lawyer his dad always wanted him to be.

A strange, contented feeling fills him that he knows is not his own. It’s the City, taking pride in its work, telling him, Look what We have made of you, feel the strength We have given you. And there is strength. A well of power so deep it almost scares him, thrumming under his skin, between muscle and bone.

The power of a demon.

Because that’s what he is now, he realizes with a shudder. A demon. One of the more-than-human creatures that stalk the streets of the City, that leave black Marks on the skin of the people living in it like dirty fingerprints.

The City has always had demons in it, and they have always had magic, but this? It’s beyond anything Matt recalls hearing about as a child or a young man. What he’s been given is fathomless. He could do anything with this power. Rip the world apart and put it back together.

But even with so much magic at his beck and call, he’s— cold. It’s like a hunger but it aches in his fingers and his heart instead of his belly. He… Needs something. Something…

The asphalt is warm under his feet, hums with life and energy, but not enough. The City can’t give Matt what he needs. What he needs…

That’s right, he thinks to himself. That’s right. A soul. He needs a soul. But even if the City is full of souls, it doesn’t have one of its own to keep Matt warm.

What warmth it does have surrounds Matt, strokes a summer breeze against his cheek and says— It’s ok. Choose one. Any one you want is yours, if you do as We ask.

And Matt is so desperately hungry for that warmth, and he loves his City – remembers, from Before, having always loved it, having learned that love from his father and from the people around him – that he says yes without any hesitation at all.

The deal is struck.

The City needs a protector, and Matt needs a soul, and then… Then the screams inside them both will stop.

--

It’s not long into his summoning that Matt hears the girl crying. Every night, crying. Her father comes into her room at night, and terrible things happen, and she cries.

The City is used to those sobs, even if it doesn’t like them. To Matt, though, they’re grating. They fray his nerves, rub them raw. But this isn’t in his deal, this isn’t part of the plan.

Still, it… It doesn’t always take demon magic to fix the world’s problems. Matt phones in an anonymous tip. He waits, he hopes.

The crying doesn’t stop. It actually gets worse – silent and gasping and painful. Helpless rage burns in his stomach like cold fire, only enhancing the chills that shiver through his body. But there is nothing he can do, no part of this that he can wrestle under the heading of the City’s deal. And the City is used to the crying, even when it hates it. It has to live with every person in it, the girl’s father included – the City doesn’t love him, but he’s still a part of it, one flickering flame among millions. And the only ones Matt is allowed to harm are the ones the City summoned him to. There’s no cruelty to the way it ushers Matt far from the girl’s window, but it still hurts. Aches inside him like a festering wound that Matt worries will never be healed.

Until the girl does something new. Until the night that she sets a book, dank with mildew, on her bedroom floor with a heavy thump. Scribbles something into the wood of the floorboards in firm strokes of what must be, by smell and sound, chalk. Dark energy fizzles in the air that night, a summoning to be done, a deal to be made. A deal born of vengeance and terror and the desperation of a child betrayed. A deal that sings for him. And Matt is clever, and he’s powerful, and he’s the City’s favorite. The deal is his almost before he can think to ask for it.

--

Matt’s hands are wrapped with cloth but the man’s blood seeps through them. It’s hot and soothing against his skin. He wants to bathe in it, use it to drive away the chill that still haunts his bones. When Matt flashes his victim a smile, his teeth are fangs and there are huge, twisted horns sprouting from his skull.

“Touch your daughter again and I’ll know,” Matt breathes, pressing a burning hand to the man’s jaw and leaving behind his Mark; a warning, a brand – equal and opposite to the one hidden beneath his daughter’s sleeve, a jagged mirror of Matt’s Mark that flares with malevolence instead of protection. “Touch her again and you die.”

“W-who are you?” the man demands, terror laced through every breath.

Demons don’t have names. Don’t remember them. They choose new ones, when they surface. And even though the City returned his name to him, Matt knows what he wants to say. Knows the message he wants to send this man and anyone like him.

Those Murdock boys, he remembers his grandmother saying, can almost remember the way the wrinkles creased her face, they got the Devil in ‘em. There’s nothing in Matt now – not even a soul – so he knows there’s no Devil in him.

Matt grins, savors the stinging, already-healing pain of the split in his lip.

“Me? I’m the Devil.”

And as long as that means he can keep the City safe, keep people like Eva safe… Well, Matt’s just fine with that.

--

Karen’s companion smells heady and sweet, enough that Matt can almost taste it on his tongue. Enough that his fingers twitch with desire when he considers burying his nose in the man’s neck to better inhale his scent. Even more alluringly, the man’s soul swirls with magic – Matt is put in mind of photos of the galaxy that he saw as a child. It’s blazingly warm, like sunlight on the skin, and it dances when the man laughs a perfect, glittering laugh. A tremble born of arousal, of hunger, chases its way through Matt’s body at the sound.

 --

“Are, um,” Karen asks hesitantly. “Are demon Marks always black?”

“What kind of question is that?”

The stranger sounds puzzled, concerned, and the tone of his voice – so full of care, love – sends another shiver of pleasure down Matt’s spine. He wants that tone with a greed that borders on terrifying. Wants it directed at himself.

“Well.” Karen’s voice breaks Matt out of the trance. “Well, say one was… Red. What might that mean?”

The rhythm of the man’s steps stutters, halts.

“Karen, I have literally never heard of a red Mark in my life. Is there… Something you want to tell me? You didn’t, you know, make a deal or something, did you?”

“No!” Karen lies. “No. Just, you know, curious, I suppose.”

“Right.” Her companion doesn’t sound at all convinced. “Well, you know… You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah, Foggy, of course. Of course I do. Really, it’s nothing.”

 --

Foggy, Matt mouths to himself, feels the shape of the name on his tongue. Foggy Nelson. It’s… Silly. Whimsical, and gentle, and sweet. Like the man it belongs to. Perfect.

Franklin Percy Nelson, the City purrs proudly – first-middle-last with no hesitation, not even considering the power that name could give Matt over the man strolling, unaware, down the street below him. The power to break free of any spell he casts, to thwart any exorcism he attempts… Even to bewitch or enchant him. It’s an intimate knowledge, but it’s not one Matt wants from the City – it’s not something he wants to use or exploit.

And anyway, he… He likes ‘Foggy’ better than Franklin.

But while Matt might be— enamored, he’s not a fool. Very rarely is anything as it seems at first— Er. Well. Matt isn’t much for glancing. But the point is that people aren’t always what they seem. And as much as he doesn’t want to think that this could be the case with Foggy… Matt’s not used to good things falling into his lap. He wants to be sure, to be absolutely certain, before he makes his choice.

He’s got a little recon to do. The City seems amused with he whole thing, and it doesn’t protest. Actually even seems eager to find out what Matt will do next. He takes this show of interest as the gift it is, and temporarily shifts his focus, from the City’s deal to Foggy.

[piping-hot-tea-4-u-nd-me]

And Life Went On

Prompt: Could you do a 5SOS one where Michael and Luke get into a fight and Luke says some really harsh things. The boys all gang up on him at that point and blame him and so he goes to his room. Then he opens his phone and sees tons of hate and he can't handle it so he self harms and the boys feel bad so they go to talk to him and find him all bleeding and Luke feels bad. could you make it really fluffy? Thanks!

Prompt: Hey! Can you do 5sos one shot, Luke has an asthma attack or a panic attack and it's all fluff and cuteness :) love you're writing lots <3

It’s not quite what you wanted but I hope it’s alright – warnings of blood and pervious self harm (maybe triggering) and I’m sorry it’s so long! 

It goes without saying that the four boys of 5 Seconds of Summer were the closest possible friends, you could even consider them brothers. But even with relationships as strong as theirs, arguments were always inevitable. 

The boys were currently in Toronto each wandering around the stadium they were to be playing at tonight when Luke got the news his older brother Jack had been in a pretty serious freak car accident. His mum called him in tears saying his was in the operating room and it wasn’t life threatening but there was a high chance Jack would now be paralysed from the waist down, if he even woke up. Luke wanted to drop everything and fly back home to be there for his brother but his mum convinced him to stay and continue with the tour, there wouldn’t be much he could do even if he was there so Luke hesitantly agreed to stay in Toronto. 

Once Luke finally got off the phone with his mum, he walked over and leant against the wall, taking a shaky breath, trying to take in everything that had just happened. There was a chance his brother wouldn’t wake up, and if he did he would probably never walk again. The same brother who taught him to ride a skateboard and showed him how to surf. The same brother who ran beside him in his first cross country in high school. The same brother who had built his life around being able to use his legs. Luke rubbed his face and took another breath, still attempting to collect his thoughts. None of this felt real.

“Luke there you are. We need you on the stage for sound check. Now” a stern voice behind him said. He turned around and saw one of their stage managers looking at him, clearly annoyed. He nodded and pushed off the wall slowly trailing to the stage.

By the time he got there the other three tired boys had taken their positions on the stage and were waiting for him, also not looking very happy with him. He grabbed his guitar off one of the stage hands and took his spot in front of his microphone. Luke could feel the eyes on the back of his head and turned to see Ashton staring at him strangely, his cold stare softening at the look on Luke’s face. 

Ashton took a step towards him “Hey Luke, is everythi- “ 

“No time for a chat guys were already behind schedule thanks to Luke’s little disappearing act. Remember we have VIP fans coming to watch sound check. They’ll be here any minute” the same manager that found Luke said.

Sound check started and the boys were off to a rough start. They were all beyond exhausted as well as the news Luke just received, they were all quite off. He was trying, he really was but Luke was so distracted and off key and could feel the energy on the stage changing for the worse. 

It was in the middle of the third song that Michael decided he’d had enough of Luke and stopped playing, signalled the other boys to stop too.

“Luke what the hell is your problem? Your behind and not even singing in the right key? We don’t have time for this?” Michael snapped. It was then the VIP fans started making their way towards the stage, excited to see the behind scenes of 5SOS but not prepared for the shock they were in. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just really tired an-“ 

“No, seriously you need to get your shit together right now man” Michael retaliated 

“Michael you don’t understand!” 

“What I understand is that you don’t seem to care about the show meaning the fans and that you’re letting us down!” it was then that the fans had pulled up their phones and started recording the boys. “Seriously what is your problem Luke? We’re all tired and doing our best except you” 

Luke had enough. He was exhausted and on the brink of crying over everything that had already happened today and snapped back at Michael.

“My problem? Really Mikey? You’re the one who can’t face the world using different hair colours to hide your insecurities. You’re the one who won’t want to sing parts on songs because you don’t want to. You’re the one who drinks just so he doesn’t have to face people sober! And you’re asking me what my problem is?” 

The room was dead quiet. Both Michael and Luke’s eyes were wide open staring at each other. The fans still had their phones focused on the boys and the stage managers weren’t sure how to step in and resolve the issue. 

Luke was immediately filled with regret after what he said and could feel his eyes watering up. He’s never someone to snap like that so when (if) he ever does snap he’s not sure how to fix it.

“Fuck Michael, I’m sor- “

“Save it” 

There was silence again till management finally stepped in telling the boys to focus back on the sound check and asking the fans to put their phones down and delete the videos they had taken but it was too late, the damage was already done. Videos were already posted on Twitter, livestreamed on both Instagram and Facebook. The whole world knew what had happened and there was no taking it back.

Once sound check had finally finished the boys immediately went their own ways and stayed away from each other till the show only hours later. They all gathered back behind stage for the main show but there was obvious tension between all the boys. Michael and Calum sending dirty looks in Luke’s direction, Ashton being the only one looking at Luke with concern. The boy had been off character all day and Michael and Calum were to wrapped up in the argument before to realise, granted some hurtful things had been said.

The main show was over, definitely one of their worst, and they had all walked off stage together. Once out of sight of the fans Calum grabbed Luke by his shirt and slammed him against the wall. 

“How dare you” 

“Calum, wait”

“No Luke, you’re an ass and you’re lucky we need you in this band otherwise you’d be out” 

That was it for Luke, he couldn’t do this. He pushed Calum off of him and took off down the halls and out of the building, hailing the first taxi he could and headed to the hotel. Sitting in the backseat Luke could feel the tears in his eyes, today had been too much and he knew he had messed up with Michael and he still hadn’t heard back from his mum about his brother. He arrived at the hotel and stumbled his way up to his room, tears blurring his vision. He made it up to his room, clumsily scanning the key and fell into the room onto his hands and knees. He hastily closed the door behind him and pushed his face into the carpet below him loudly sobbing, fingers clawing at the carpet. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably as a cried for his brother and for Michael into the soft material until he didn’t think he could physically cry anymore. He didn’t know how long he had been on the floor but his shoulders ached when he pushed himself up, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. 

He scrolled through the notifications, no messages from any of the boys but all of his social media accounts were blowing up. Luke opened twitter and that’s when he saw it. Pages after pages of fans slamming him, retweeting photos and videos of his and Michael’s argument today. Comments like “kick him out” and “he’s an awful person” and “he’s not worth it” kept coming up, repeating over and over again until they were burned into his brain. He dropped his phone onto the floor and felt his chest tightening but pushed the feeling away trying to ignore it as he walked to the bathroom. 

Luke stepped into the bathroom and gripped the sink, the cold ceramic sending sparks up his arms. He turned and made his way to the bathtub, stripping his shoes and clothes off and stepping in as he turned the hot water on. He sat down directly under the hot water and brought his knees up to his chest and started crying again. His tears mixing with the water rushing over his skin as thoughts he hasn’t had since high school crept back into his mind and he uncurled his legs, laying them out straight in the bath. The pale white scars that zigzagged and crossed over and over again on his thighs stood out like beacons. His chest tightened again but Luke tried to ignore it again but it was becoming harder. He reached over to the razor on the soap holder and looked at it longingly, wanting to do something he promised he’d never do again. The water was turning his skin bright red but the only thing he could feel was his chest aching, breathing getting harder. Luke gripped the razor tighter in one hand and used his other to pull the plastic surrounding the blades off like he had done so many times before. By the time he had the three sharp little blades in his hand he had tiny little cuts lined up on his fingers but he still couldn’t feel and thing but his chest making it almost impossible to breathe. He didn’t want to do it, he promised he wouldn’t but today has been too much and he couldn’t handle it.

After the incident backstage with Calum and Luke, Ashton had been very concerned for the younger boy. Something definitely wasn’t right with him, he was hardly ever late for sound check and since when did he ever snap? The way Luke had run out of the venue left all three of them shocked but Calum and Michael turned with a “good riddance” and made their way to their dressing rooms to grab the last of their things and the three of them slowly got back outside to the waiting van, ready to head back to the hotel. 

Michael and Calum walked together to Michael’s room but Ashton stopped out the front of Luke’s door and knocked. There was no reply so Ashton knocked again and again but there was still no answer. The oldest boy grabbed turned the door handle and it opened easily so he stepped in. There was no sign of Luke but he could hear the shower running. Ashton walked in the direction of the sound of the water and saw the open bathroom door and the sight in front of him made his heart drop. There was Luke sitting in the bath, skin an alarming dark shade of red, wild breathing with a razor in his hand.

“Luke! Fuck what are you doing?” Ashton cried running over to the bath turning off the water. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” Luke chanted weakly in between his short, shallow breaths not looking up from the razor still sitting in his hand. 

“It’s okay, please just give that to me”

Luke closed his hand over the razor and clenched his hand as he failed to breathe, refusing to let go of it.

“Luke, you’re okay. You’re safe and not in trouble. I’m here, okay?” 

The younger boy finally looked up at Ashton, his eyes wide with panic. Ashton turned and grabbed one of the hotels white towels and threw it around Luke’s shoulders. 

“You’re doing so great, but you need to breathe now. Just focus on my voice Luke” Ashton had one hand rubbing Luke’s back while the other one helping to hold him up straight to open his airways to make it easier for the already struggling boy. He guided him through breathing and sat there with him till the panic in Luke’s eyes was replaced with sheer exhaustion. Luke slowly unclenched his now bleeding hand and dropped the bloody razor to the bottom of the bathtub, a river of blood following. 

Ashton helped the boy up, re-wrapping the towel around him, and walked Luke to the bedroom. Luke sat on the edge of the bed while Ashton walked over to the suitcase and searched for some clothes for Luke to out on. While his back was to Luke, Ashton pulled out his phone and sent a text to Michael telling him and Calum to get their asses over to Luke’s room now. 

Once Luke was dressed he took his seat back on the edge of the bed looking down at his lap. Ashton disappeared and soon returned with a first aid kid and sat down on the floor in front of Luke, grabbing the smaller boys cut hand and started cleaning it both boys silent. It wasn’t long until Michael and Calum came sulking into Luke’s room.

“You better be dragging us here so Luke can apologise Ashton” Calum huffed from the front door, unaware what they were about to see. 

“Actually Calum, I think its you two who needs to apologise” Ashton replied coolly in attempts to keep Luke calm. 

“Oh yeah, as if that’s gonna happ-” Calum immediately shut his mouth when he saw Ashton bandaging Luke’s hand. “What going on?”

“That’s what Luke needs to tell us. I’m sorry Luke, you know I’d never push with something like this but you promised us if you were getting this bad again you’d talk to one of us” 

Michael, who had been extremely quiet, took the few steps closer to Luke and sat down next to Ashton in front of him. 

“What’s going on Luke?” Mike said quietly. Luke shook his head eyes tearing up again. He didn’t know how to apologise enough for what he had said to the boy in front of him. “Please Luke” 

“I’m sorry Mikey, I didn’t mean what I said” Luke sobbed throwing himself at Michael. 

“You’re okay, I’m not mad at you” Michael said, pulling away to look at Luke’s face

“Maybe not, but I still hurt you and the fans are still mad at me”

“What do you mean the fans?” Calum butted in 

“What I said today is all over Twitter, they’re never going to forgive me!” 

“They will understand and move on. But why were you so upset during sound check? And why didn’t you come to me?” Ashton asked

“My brother…” and Luke told them all about his morning, his phone call with his mum about his brother and how everything had just gotten too much. 

“Luke you should have told us, I’m so sorry” Calum said as he hugged the younger boy. 

“Me too Luke, I shouldn’t of snapped at you” Michael said too. 

The boys spent the night in Luke’s room all wrapped up together on the double bed, none of them wanting to spend the night away from Luke. Luke called his mum in the morning to ask about his brother. Jack had the surgery and woke up only a few hours ago, it was confirmed that he would be paralysed from the waist down but his mum was sure Jack would find a way to still do the things he loved most. 

Although Luke almost had a relapse last night he felt as though he was in a better place than he had been with the boys in a while and knew they would always be there for him no matter what. Management moved their schedule around giving them a few days after it became obvious the boys were exhausted and the fans, after hearing the news about Luke’s brother, were more supportive then any of them could have asked for. And life went on.

[maximumkillshot]

Make It Better

Warnings: ANGSTY AF, like it’s bad for a while there, then it gets better. Some cussing possible, mentions of S14 stuffs.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Reader, OMC Luke, (Multiple other charaters mentioned

A/N: This is from an ask by @carribear31 Her ask reads:  So I have an idea, it could be angsty. Going back to beginning if seadon 14. Dean is free from Michael and comes back to the bunker to find all the AU hunters there. Him and reader have been together for awhile but seeing all these other hunters need her for this and that makes him feel unneeded and useless and even a bit jealous when he notices one other hunter seems to seek her out more then the others. Now with Dean feel sorry for himself and pushing her away she must prove they belong together. Happy ending please! Thank you!

“All I Could Do” Masterlist- CLICK HERE

Overall Masterlist- Click Here

“When You Call” Masterlist- Click Here

“The Situation” Masterlist- Click Here

“How has Y/N been?” I asked my brother. Michael taking over wasn't something that only affected me. Hell, Y/N had been together for over three years. Before all of the shit hit the fan I was planning out the proposal, I even had the ring ready, and yet the last thing I remember hearing is her screaming at me, asking why.

“She’s broken, Dean. What else do you expect?” answered my brother. “You broke a promise to her, you promised you’d never let him in and yet you let him in right in front of her. I don’t blame her either.”

“Does she hate me?” I asked, pain in my eyes.

“No she doesn’t. She’s been looking for you non stop. She didn't sleep for the first two weeks, only closing her eyes when her body gave out. Jack had to force her to eat and Mom had to get her to shower. She was nothing without you. She even thought that it was all her fault.”

“What?”

“She thought that if she wasn’t there when Lucifer did what he did, you wouldn’t have done what you did to protect her.”

“ I would have done it regardless.”

“She won’t hear it, so she threw herself into work.”

As we pulled into the bunker I saw some people, including Bobby working on he other cars in the garage…

After parking and cautiously opening the bunker door, everyone froze, but Y/N.

Her hair was disheveled and thrown into a bun. Standing at the war room table, coordinating the next attack it seems. All of the other hunters around her looked up, prompting her to do the same.

As I made the way down the stairs I saw her slowly turn towards me, an angel blade in her hand. Her eyes were closed as she looked up, almost preparing to see that blue glow of Michaels eye’s glaring at her like they did the day he took me.

When she looked up, she looked like she aged tenfold. She must’ve lost 50 pounds, her eyes sunken. She looked from my eyes to Sammy, then back to me.

“I-If this is a trick Michael, I swear I will rip you from him myself, and I torture you if you thought the cage was rough… wait until you get a load of me.”

When I went to walk towards her immediately Jack and a few of the other men surrounded her. One of the men commented to me, “I don’t believe that the commander said that you could touch her.”

“Stand Down” I heard her say from the behind the wall of men.  They immediately parted like the red sea.

She placed the blade on the table, “Is it really you, Dean?”

That hurt… She usually calls me baby or some chick flick pet name.

“Yeah, it is Sweetheart... I”

“Your room’s the same way you left it. It was off limits.” She turned around, addressing the rest of the hunters.

“You mean our room,” I asked, clear pain in my voice.

She huffed and turned my way, “ That stopped being our room when you broke your promise. That room was my prison, surrounded by you and no way to get to you. That….” She looked around, noticed that she was raising her voice, and gaining attention. She then took in my state and breathed, “ You already know where the showers are. Get cleaned up, we’ll discuss this after I come up with yet another plan to deal with your mess.”

I looked at my brother and he went to lead me past the other hunters to my room.

“She hates me,” I said plainly.

“No, she loves you so much that she tried everything to keep this place running because she knew that’s what you would have wanted, Dean. It may not be what you were expecting, but that, that was the best you were going to get, given the circumstances.” I walked into my room, only finding some things out of place. One of them is a photo of ourselves sitting on Baby’s hood. The frame wasn’t on the nightstand where it was supposed to be, the frame was smashed to pieces, the photo painted with dried tear stains. I kept on looking around and I found something… The wedding ring box was kicked under the nightstand when I opened it the ring was missing. I couldn’t see anymore at this point.

As I undressed I noticed there was a new scar on my bicep. I couldn’t think straight so I just undressed and went to the showers. By the time I was out I could hear Y/N laughing with a guy, he had his arm around her hip, joking around. It made my blood boil. Then I finally caught his name, Luke. After I got dressed I came out of my room and was met with mostly unfamiliar faces, I’ve never felt so out of place in my own home.

Sammy could see my visible uneasiness and he leads me to the main war room, explaining everything that they came up with to rebuild the hunter network. I was impressed but I was also seething because this Luke guy was getting handsy with Y/N. The minute my brother saw me eyeing them Sam said, “Luke was the only one who could get her out of the room after Michael took you. She only trusted him. The first time she laughed all the first month came from him.”

“So what’s their deal, because from what I’m seeing here. Maybe it would’ve been better for me to stay away.”

“What?” questioned Sammy.

“Look at how happy she is, so carefree.”

“She hasn’t been like this since you were taken. She is like this right now because you are back.”

“Then why isn’t she letting me touch her like that?”

“She’s hurt, Dean.”

“How do I make it better?” I asked Sammy, my heart being crushed.

“Maybe talk to her about it, in private.”

I took a deep breath and started to walk towards her.

As soon as she saw me in her peripheral vision she straightened up, almost on guard, which she’s never done with me, even when I had the mark of Cain.

“Y/N?” I asked.

She got off of the counter she was perched on and said, “Yeah?”

“We need to talk,” I said as I glared at Luke.

“Where do you want to talk at, exactly?” She asked.

“Our room.”

“We don’t have a room, you have your room and I have mine.”

“Fine, my room.”

She immediately grabbed her beer bottle and started walking to the room.

As soon as the door shut I hear her say: “ So what do you want to talk about?”

I huffed, “How about how when I came home you acted like I was nothing to you. Let’s start there.” I sat at the desk in my room while she sat on the bed.

“In case you haven’t noticed I am cleaning up Michael’s mess, thanks to you.”

“That is bullshit Y/N and you know it. Before this you would’ve jumped into my arms, practically sobbing.”

“Well, I did all of my sobbing when I thought that you were dead. Right here.” She said as she stroked the pillow on my side of the bed. “Michael was never going to let you go and I knew that. I knew that you were not strong enough to kick him out.”

I was silent as she continued, “For a while actually, I was waiting for Michael to come in here and off me himself. I waited in here… You know why?”

I shook my head no as she laid down, “Because here was where we laughed, made love, here are our best memories. So I locked myself in here, waiting to die with nothing but the best memories. That way I didn’t have to look at the husk of my boyfriend when Michael drained the life out of me.”

She looked to the right, where my nightstand was, “Instead I could look at that picture of us on the impala, mere seconds before you told me you loved me. Or I could grab to the left, grab the quilt that you got me from New Mexico.”

She Sat back up with tears in her eyes, now bringing tears to mine as I sat beside her, “I don’t think you realize what it’s like to wait for the man that you love to come back and kill you. The worst part is that it wasn’t even the man that you love, just the thing that he let in.”

She got up frantically wiping tears away, “So you’re going to have to excuse me when I didn’t jump into your arms like some chick flick. You’re going to have to deal with the fact that every time I close my eyes I see Michael killing Sammy, Jack, Mary, Bobby, everyone, then him letting you through just long enough to see the life drain from my eyes.”

She turned around to me and said, “And most of all you’re going to have to excuse the fact that I am more comfortable with people that have been here for the last eight months, the very same people that helped piece me back together and distracted me every single time I got a call about a lead, the people that promised to find you so that I wouldn’t see the monster that used you as a puppet.”

“Look  I get it if you don’t love me anymore.” I said flat out.

She huffed, “And what makes you think that?”

“You’re a leader, so is Sammy, I’m a run and gunner, okay? This doesn’t work for me.”

“Not yet, Dean. we have much lower casualties because of these parameters.”

“Listen, Y/N I can’t even explain how awkward it is to come home and find a whole bunch of different people in your house and one of them buddying up to your girlfriend.”

It was then that I left the room, almost fuming, I tapped Sammy’s arm and motioned for the keys. Sammy passed them to me and I took off for the night. I did everything to think about something else. But all I could see was the pain in her eyes, the fear. It was haunting.

The fact that I did that to her, it was almost inconceivable. She was always so strong so to have a fuck up like me as her weak point makes no sense. Maybe it’s better if I just keep her at arm's length. The ring’s probably missing because she threw it away out if anger or something. That had to be the only answer. As I laid down on Baby’s hood I decided to keep her at arm's length, that way I wouldn’t hurt her again. After a few hours of sulking, I headed back home.

When I opened the door there was no one up but Sammy.

“Which room is she in?” I asked.

“Her’s, the one in between Jack’s and Luke’s”

“Great” I huffed.

“Look, I know what you think about Luke, but you’ve got it wrong, okay. Luke sees Y/N like his sister. She died in the apocalypse world. It’s platonic Dean, but you’re too jealous to see that.”

“Sammy, I’m tired of people telling me what I do and do not feel, okay? I just want to sleep with Y/N by my side. But that obviously isn’t happening, so please, just let me sleep.”

I laid down in my bed and stared at the ceiling for about 6 or 7 hours until I heard rustling outside. It sounded like Y/N was talking with Luke again. Which never failed to make my stomach twist. As soon as I heard them walk by I rolled out of bed in my boxers and nothing else.  This is my house so fuck what everyone else thinks.

When I walk out I am met by skeptical stares yet again, how my house can feel like a prison I have no clue, but hot damn it seems to be happening.

The minute I walk into the kitchen I’m met by Luke handing Y/N a cup of coffee and Sam laughing along with the normal conversation. The minute I clear my throat everyone freezes and only Y/N is unphased.

“You want some coffee, Dean? We were just about to make some bacon and pancakes,” Y/N’s voice rang out as she grabbed my mug and filled it with coffee. When she went to hand it to me she tried to lean up and kiss me but I turned my face away, trying to keep my distance. I could see the pain in her eyes, but it was better like this.

She looked confused but went about her day, making the food and distributing it to everyone. I refused to let her get mine. The more things she does for me the harder I find it to try to separate myself from her. I can see the pain in her eyes, so I decided to just take my food to my room.

The next few days I did the same thing, minimal contact with everyone, especially with Y/N, it seemed like every day I could see more of her fading away, by the end of the week she couldn’t even smile, which only killed me more.

When I was in the middle of a horror movie marathon I heard a knock at my door.

“Go away Sam!” I yelled at him. I can’t take him asking me to talk to Y/N one more time. I can’t not with how I hurt her.

Then the door opened and I heard her voice, “Dean?” Y/N sounded so broken. I wanted to scoop her up and protect her from anything and everything that came her way.

My body shot up at her voice, almost like it called to my soul, my movements weren't my own.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” I immediately turned into a defensive mode, looking around her as if something had gripped her.

“Can we talk, please?” she squeaked as tears streamed down her face.

“Of course sweetheart tell me.” I held my arms out to her and she buried her head in my chest as she cried.

“I miss you… I feel like I lost you and that is my worst nightmare, I don’t want to lose you.” She started weeping.  

I started tearing up myself, “I didn’t want to hurt you anymore. I didn’t want to do more damage than I already did Sweetheart, so I thought it was better for me to stay away. After I found the ring box empty I figured you wouldn't want that with me, baby. I thought that I hurt you so bad that you wouldn’t want me.”

“Dean,” She said as she pulled something from around her neck, “before you left the room last week I wanted to show you…” she started sniffling as she untangled the chain. When she was untangling the gold chain she was trying to explain. “I saw the ring, and I stared at it for so long… that would’ve been that last gift you would’ve ever given to me. So I didn’t throw it away..” she held the chain with the engagement ring up to me...

I looked confused as she said, “I kept it with me until we did find you… Until you could give it to me properly. Every time I lost hope I looked at it and I knew that you wouldn’t leave this undone. I carried it because I love you, and that will never ever change. So here.” She said as she opened my hand and put it into my palm. “I don’t want it until you feel it’s the right time. As long as I have you, that’s all I’ll ever need.”

When she curled back up into my chest I took the ring off of the chain and grabbed her hand as she teared up…

“There is no better time than right now Y/N…. So will you marry me?”

She was crying so hard all she could do was nod… and believe me, that was more than enough for me.

Just as I slid the ring on her finger she started kissing me uncontrollably all over my face as I pinned her under me.

I just stared for a while, taking in the tears that she shed…

“What?” she giggled.

I wiped her tears away as I said “Just imagining”

“Oh really? Imagining what?”

“The rest of our lives together, family, all of it,” I said as I leaned down and kissed her.

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