#ripping my own heart outta my chest with this one

[forged-in-kaoss]

This piece of paper will bring us together again!

[ms3ox]

w i f & e

In which, Alastor has his ego beaten into the ground, and still can't find a good reason to hate you.

Part I/???

Tags: Slow Burn, Really Petty Enemies to Lovers, Unintentional Marriage (soon)

Notes: I have a good ~40 pages of this already written. Lmk if you guys want more.

______________________________________________________________

At one point in time, Alastor could definitively say that he didn’t care what happened to his wife. 

You were… auxiliary at best and a nuisance at worst. A mess of naivety, youth, and a bumbling sense of goodness. Its truly a marvel how someone so seemingly innocent made her way down to the Pride Ring. But perhaps that was it. Pride. At least, that was his working hypothesis. He couldn’t say for certain what landed you eternal damnation, and perhaps it was none of his business anyway what with the way you kept it strictly under wraps. In another life, perhaps, Alastor would be curious, but time is wasted on flights of folly such as deducing the nature of his benefactor’s death. You had spiraling horns etched into your skull, so you were, in one way or another, just like the rest of them. 

It isn’t until he feels that tug that he realizes what he feels is nothing short of care. The phantom tugs at his chest, at his heart, a pitiful plea for help, but one that smells so familiarly sweet that he knows who it is and where its coming from.

And despite the way this growing humanity makes his fingers strain and curl, he dissolves into shadow and slithers toward your pull. 

---

Boredom is the worst part of Hell. 

Killing and eating can only be so much fun. After disposing of his… hmm, how many now? After disposing of his thousandth body, he finds that the appetite following the kill is nigh on nonexistent. He’s just… restless and bored. There are no turf wars around, no drama within the collective of Overlords, Hell, even Vox has been a doldrum of content lately- a stream of useless garbage that seems even more mind-numbing than the demon’s usual flare for juicy gossip and electric presentation. 

Deal-making is the same as it always has been, too. Alastor finds himself putting in all the work, all the fanciful and dandyish flare to impress his prey before ripping their autonomy right out of them with a handshake. And they’re all the same. Scared, hopeless, down on their luck. Reluctantly trustful of a smile before regretting it for eternity. When one owns thousands of souls… none of it feels… fulfilling anymore. The blood-red skies of Hell seem to fade to a miserable, dried brown- the same sky he’s been staring up at for the past century. 

God, he is so bored. 

This is the real torture. The real damnation. 

Rosie must see the apathy in his eyes and dullness in his smile because her face quickly contorts into something concerned the moment he enters her emporium.

“Alastor?” She would whisper with that soft concern the ladies in his life harbor for him. Even that has become dull to him. “You look all outta sorts, mister. What’s goin’ on, hah?”

And just like many of the concerned ladies in his life, Rosie is quick to offer a solution. He sits with his fingers steepled and his gaze far, far away as Rosie explains another deal opportunity to him. For once, Alastor doesn’t feel like being theatrical. Boredom has sucked the life out of this radio broadcast. Newcomer… Naive… Struggling in Hell, yada yada. 

“...I’ll consider it.” Is Alastor’s simple and placating reply. 

—

The first thing Alastor notices is that you know your way around a knife. Not necessarily how to fight, but you seem to have a keen eye for all the mortal points on a demon’s body- and when executed correctly…

“Impressive, my dear!”

The dandyish facade and wide smile return again like muscle memory- perhaps that’s what it is after decades of tricking demons into eternal bondage. Your eyes narrow suspiciously as the tall, creepy man in the red coat takes measured, clacking steps toward you. Soon enough, Alastor finds himself on the sharper end of your bloodied little pocket knife. Come to think of it, Rosie had said something about the demon being somewhat adept with a weapon… He’s sure there’s more information that his boredom has glossed over and tucked into his memory, never to be found.

“Alastor,” He says without so much as a flinch, taking the other end of the knife and shaking it as if it were your hand. “Pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure.”

He pays no mind to the way his blood seeps around it. He’ll visit the tailor for new gloves later. And… perhaps a dry cleaning, what with the violent spray of demon blood that the little demoness incurred with your paltry knife skills and scarily surgical precision. But you seem to pick up on the fact that no amount of ferality and intent to kill can bridge the sloping gap in power between you. Your eyes narrow.

“Do you want something?”

Alastor hums, tapping a finger to his chin. His polished shoes clack with every circling step he takes around you, you and your tattered rags you call clothes.

“Want is a strong word, my dear.” He taps your head with his microphone, then points to the disgustingly garish Embassy as another day drops from its count. “Our annual cull is coming soon. You won’t want to be a street urchin when God’s little pests arrive.”

The mention of God seems to set you off in some way. Your shoulders square, your eyes widen, and there’s some kind of hunger in your black irises that catches him off-guard for a moment.

Interesting…

“I believe it would be in your best interests to seek protection… Shelter…” He circles you once more before arriving at your front. Alastor extends his hand, bending down to meet the sprightly thing eye to eye. Your scleras are pure, white… untainted. Something he hopes to rectify.

“Let’s make a deal.”

A blade narrowly misses the underside of his rib, and he only realizes that when he sees one of his blackened, eldtrich tendrils squeezing at your wrist, keeping it firmly steady while it hovers just before his coat. Alastor clicks his tongue, straightening his posture. He could kill you…  but that feels like a waste of resources.

“Calm yourself, dear, I haven’t even outlined the terms!”

The girl’s eyes narrow even more, if possible, your thin brows furrowing in a way that casts angry shadows over your features. This was going to be a hard sell. But… Alastor’s been known to play with words. His hand finds your straining wrist, replacing the hardness of his power with a gentle touch.

“Pledge yourself to me and I-.”

“No.”

Alastor can’t help the sharp feedback his microphone makes at your sudden dismissal. You will just not let him get a word in edgewise, hm? His jaw hangs open in shock before he quickly rectifies himself, smoothing down his suit. Okay. He can work with no. He’s walked this path many times before. They always come crawling back, one way or another. 

“Hm. I hope you keep this conversation in mind then.”

He hums a jaunty tune as he leaves the stubborn girl to the shadows.

---

[honeypotdrops]

✿Note from Honey: this is just some crumbs i have to sprinkle for you on a new OC i’m working on, i’ll post more about her background and story soon if it’s wanted but i had to get this one outta the box first- consider this a light snack from me to you <3

✿side note: I REALLY hope you enjoy this- being new to this game, i was so hesitant to post this because i don’t feel as though my writing is to the quality to do so just yet but i just thought WHAT’S THE WORST THAT’S GONNA HAPPEN :) anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer: literally nothing i don’t think? the slightest mentions of alcohol, soft soft, cute times of people reminiscing about home!<3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

♡ 𝒮𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝒟𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 ♡

OC Calico X Task Force 141

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Missing home was a part of calicos’ daily routine.

During the spare hours of the day she’d be thinking of the next time she’d get to cram onto a busy tube from Victoria Station.

She’d dream of the first time after a long time of standing in the cold and shielding from the rain with her friends outside an overpriced bar in Central London, sipping Prosecco, even though she’s always hated it, but never had the heart to tell them..

She missed the way home made her feel- Some days, more than others.

This was in fact, one of them days.

She was swamped head to toe in paperwork, deadlines, mission reports, “that person’s injured”, “this person wants to arrange a meeting” and the list unfortunately went on..

She huffed and moved away from her desk, throwing her head back and feeling tears form in her eyes and stress taking over her body.

her thoughts were disturbed by a knock at the door- 

“Come in!” She called half heartedly.

Gaz struggled as he entered the room, holding a large box, covered in brown paper with small tiny illustrations of christmas trees and Santa hats all over it.

“this, my darling was left, for you” he smiled brightly, dropping the heavy package on the desk making a loud thump as it left his hands.

Calico furrowed her brows, inspecting the parcel on her desk.

“For me?” she replied in disbelief “What for?”

All Gaz responded with was a shrug “No idea, was just labelled as ‘special delivery’ and addressed to you” he smiled softly at her, turning to leave the room.

She forcefully ripped off the paper, the amount of sellotape on this thing was criminal.

with one last pull of the plastic, the box was finally open.

she delved inside, rummaging through layers of red and green tissue paper.

She found a small card, written on it was “To our Frankie”

she flopped back down on her chair, opened the envelope, and pulled out the card. 

There was a picture on the front of two penguins in hats and scarves ice skating around a Christmas tree. She smiled to herself and read the inside;

Frankie, 

Home feels strange without you here, we spend everyday missing you and thinking about you, we hope that this helps you in the same troubled times, and we hope it helps you remember the feeling of home..

P.s don’t eat them all at once, and remember to share, we know what you’re like!

All our love,

Mum, Dad and Freddie 

x x x

the tears that were looming over her began to fall, she smiled and held her hand to her chest, the warmth of love radiating inside her, like a glowing orb where her heart once was- 

she wiped her tears on the back of her hand, placing the card upright on her desk beside a picture of her, her parents and her younger brother. 

she got up and dove into the parcel without a second thought, she found all sorts of her favourite goodies and treats she loved from back home that filled the box to the brim.

Dairy milk bars, tonnes of them, so many she’s sure she could start her own trade here on base, wine gums,  boxes of Yorkshire tea bags, biscuits, the absolute lot.

as she dug deeper to the bottom, she found a small printed picture of her and her two friends, Shelly and Kate- it was one of the last pictures they had taken while she was on leave.

The three of them outside her childhood home, arms wrapped round one another, smiles and sunburned cheeks, all with glasses of whatever concoctions they were drinking that night.

she turned the photo over to another message, neatly written in bright pink and purple gel pen with small doodles of hearts and stars around it,

“WE MISS YOU TOO! CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU CALI” 

P.S- YOU DON’T HAVE TO SHARE THIS ONE!

LOVE YOU ALWAYS,

-YOUR GIRLS<3

 X O X O

Calico shook her head and huffed out a laugh, she peered into the box where there was two mini bottle of Prosecco and a tacky picture frame that looked like it fell and stumbled out of the nineties, the words “best friends” around the pink and green frame.

she slid the picture in and placed it next to her other ones that scattered across her desk, smiling at the reminders of the people who wished her a safe return home.

She placed the items back in the box and slid it under her desk, taking one of the chocolate bars out and happily munching away while returning to the work ahead of her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Calicos’ day was now slowing coming to an end, she had made a cup of tea with the goodies sent from her Mum and sat herself down behind her computer, shoving another piece of chocolate in her mouth before tackling the last piece of work ahead of her.

Another knock at the door appeared causing her to almost choke on the mouthful of chocolate she had crammed in.

“Yeah- uh..come in” she muffled out.

“Heard you had a delivery love?” Price poked his head round the door, smiling at her with intrigue in his eyes.

Calico squinted “yeah…maybe..” she replied cautiously while swallowing the evidence to try not to give herself away, her Mum wasn’t wrong- she did not like sharing.

“what’d ya get then?” Ghosts’ body moved in behind Price, his dark eyes making her break and her previous innocent look start to crumble slowly.

“Aye don’t be all secretive bonnie, let us av’ a look then” Soap tried shoving his way past both bodies standing in her doorway but failing and only his head appearing below the Captains.

Calico put her head in her hands and laughed at the sight.

“It’s like you lot get the most minuscule scent of a good cuppa and suddenly become like bloodhounds searching for it” she chuckled, shaking her head “is there more of you or-?”

“Yeah, i’m here too i just- i don’t think anymore of us can fit in this doorway” Gaz called out 

Calico rolled her eyes and smiled, motioning for them to come in and sit with her.

the placed themselves round her little space watching intensely, like small primary school children during show and tell, while she showcased the goods she had been sent.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 Tea’s had been made and shared out between the group, biscuits had been dunked and wine gums had been shared, much to Calicos’ disgust but, part of her didn’t mind so much after seeing the happy looks upon their faces.

They spent most of the night snacking away as the sky got darker and the base got quieter.

Calico turned to the box and dug out a chocolate bar she had been keeping for herself.

She peeled back the purple wrapper and snapped it bit by bit, she handed a strip of it to each of them, smiling as she did.

They all savoured it, the taste that was so familiar to them all, reminding them of their childhood, Christmases with loved ones or anytime there was a bowl full of treats on the family table. 

Calico smiled at the sight, she nibbled the last piece and sat back in her chair next to Price.

He sighed contently finishing his last square and taking a sip of tea before speaking.

“tastes’ like home” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Note from Honey: If you made it this far thank yewww for reading <3 i really hope you liked it, i feel like it’s not much but BARE WITH, i have so many ideas for this character.. at the moment they’re all kinda balled up and bundled in a box lmao

Love ya!

-Honeypot<3

[since64bce]

Trumper HC: AOT CHARACTERS AS TRUMP SUPPORTERS

I'm not in Amurica or nothin so idek the guy. All I'm sayin is I think he's a funny man so lets go baby yeehaw

CHARACTERS??: CONNIE AND SASHA, MIKASA, ERWIN, REINER, BERTHOLDT, HISTORIA, PIXIS, FLOCH Warnings: Racism, Sexism, ageism, STEREOTYPING, homophobia, transphobia, swearing, soft porn, guns, terrorism, mentions of violence and molesting. (istg im nitpicking here) A/N: pls don't report me.

CONNIE + SASHA 🥹💃🕺 (Cowboy conspirators)

-I have to group them together Im sorry

-"We juhst tew keids werkin togeyther on ower dayddies raynch in teyxas"🤓🤠

-Sashas fam are a few hardened Trump veterans (it's in the braus bloodline) can you imagine her father NOT being a republican smth

-Connies fam is the same.

-Both of their dads are those weird uncles u only see @ thanksgiving once a year. NOT WEIRD IN A PEDO WAY. They the ones who talk abt the flouride makin the rats n frogs gay an whatnot. its a whole thing.

-BAsically con man🧍‍♂️ and sack nut🧍‍♀️ spend their days chewing on straw and standing outside abortion clinics. 👫

-They're probably like 12 or somthing idk

-But yes they really like trump. Hail trump✋. Worship trump🙏. Trump trump trump. Donald J trump💋. Love trump🫶. want trump👀. lick trump🫵. kiss trump🫵. Trump 4 life💪. Trump all day baby🫦. Trump👨🏽‍🦲.

-Honestly they wanna see trump more than trump wanna see them.

-Actually trump don't want to see them.

-He'd get molested, turn around and there'd be two skanky ass lookin children standing behind him how horrific.💀💀💀

-These children aren't normal

-God bless murica ✊✊ yeehaw

Mikasa es tu casa (Chilled out chad)

-Mikasa is one of them chill ones that just mind their own buisness

-Unproblematic chad😌

-She sets an example for the rest of society and shes ripped so lets all take a leaf out of mikasas book shall we

-This aint aot fr this is america 🦅🦅🇺🇸🇺🇸 so she lived happily ever after with her mama and papa ok. no weird human traffickers or nothing🖕🖕. Her parents would've been quite traditional and conservative

-I think she'd believe in the nuclear family and gender roles and what not but her beliefs would be very mild

-You can't get her fuckin forearms from making sandwiches all day babes ❤️‍🔥💪

-but yeah shes a sweetheart ilhsm💋

-And lets just say her being a trumpee is like Gods way of containing this woman

-she wouldn't have missed fr🔫

-And God forbid if she did miss cuz otherwise she'd have gone up there and done it with her bare hands baby

-casual Trump enjoyer

Erwin👱‍♂️ (Facebook warrior)

-He's one a them grandaddy Trumps💪👴. There from the very beginning.❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

-You really think old people are bad at using technology?? WRONG.

-Levi helped him set up a facebook account 💋

-And It's the only fuckin thing he knows how to use on his computer. And he plays around on with his face this🤏 close to the screen, like gurl u don't need to do that 🧍‍♂️💀💀

-just use ur monacle or whatever🤷‍♀️

-But yeah whenever he comes upon gay 🌈🌈people posts on facebook my man has a heart attack. He clutches his chest falls outta his chair as he tries to get his breathing in control. 🤯😵

-Erwin will come across a post of two girls kissing an fickin collapse istg

-And then he'll get his talons out and start producing some juicy ass hate comments👹. He can't control himself, he's like a wild beast🥴😮‍💨, its like his arthiritis stricken claws have a gravitational pull towards that keyboard

-And he doesn't understand the whole algorithm thing either

There he squats with all these gay daddies on his facebook, hate spamming ALL of them AND HE STILL DOESN'T UNDERSTAND WHY FACEBOOK KEEPS SHOWING HIM THESE POSTS🤬🤬😡🫣🤷‍♀️

-He suffering multiple heart attacks a day people get this man off facebook🙌

-And then Levi will come over and see that Erwin has been writing hate comments under pictures of mens bulges on his computer🧍‍♂️

-Who gave this guy the tech knowledge to b able to cyber bully but not to close his damn tabs sheesh

-He's also become a top poster on one of the Trump groups that he follows ✊✊

-Also he uses the N word a lot 🧍‍♂️

Mr big tits (Bible, BBQ and an AK47)

-Oh my dear lovely big breasted Reiner Braun🍒🍒

-tells everyone abt how his papi went to 'nam and died when in reality his papi waz just a bich and left early🤫

-Not enough valour for him ig

-Even tho homeboy aint in the army 🫡 anymore he still stocks up more ammo than his local police department. 🫶🫰

-Hes just a🔅 cutesy little😻 hoarder with a cuetsy little collection of firearms too. 🤤🥰💖🩷🩵💙

-he will also wear cammo vests to the supermarket just to buy himself some spinach. He's a cammo boy. It's all he wears. 😮‍💨

-Aside from his gun collection and cammo obession, Reiner also loves a bit of BBQ here and there.

-believes the Founding Fathers’ original intent included God, guns, and smoked brisket.💪💪🦅🦅

-And country music of course.

-He's just a casual guy nothing too extreme😎🤠

-He owns a pair of american flag speedos tho, is confused as to why people need so many pronouns and passively aggressively competes in lawn care comps with his neighbor

-Somebody make this guy a father pls🥵😳🫃

Bechtolsheim :))))🦒🦒(Wall enthusiast)

-Oh my berty boy whom i love love love😤💕

-Let us b true with ourselves guys mr daddy long legs🕷️here has all our hearts and souls encaptured in his nice ol sweaty palms. I can tell ya now he's a man of the lord. He's down on those knees for j-dawg night'n day bro 🙏. He daps up the homeboy holy spirit on his way to bible study wit Reiner. ✝️✝️🫰

-Boy sure knows how to resist those temptations. Satan who? Sorry, B-dawg doesn't know him

-Everyone just thinks he's a nice guy 🧍🏽... which he is obv 🙄

-(In the daytime🌞, he's bertholdt, just a normal gurl💅🫦, living a normal life😸😝... but theres ✨something✨👁️👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨 about him🧌🥸😱 that, no one ⁉️knows yet⁉️.... 🤨🧐cause he has secrets🤭🥵🥵👹👹👹......)

-he used to b part of a terrorist group.

-☠️

-BUT HES IS(IS) A NICE GUY HE WAS JUS A LIL BIT CONFUSED BACK THEN an thats okay baby everyone gets a bit confused sometimes.

-AND this was before he met God mkay.

-But yeah, now bertholdt has a burning descrimination against muslims.

-Its the trauma man.

-His stereotyping and racism is like a festering cancer, he fights it everyday like a champ 💃💃✊

-And what does this have to do with being a trumpee you might ask?🧐

-Immigration.

-He wants em' all deported

-SOMETIMES Berts inner darkness wins out. He wants to forget his past, he wants to throw it right outta his window!... and out of his country....🦅🦅🇺🇸🤠🍟🍔

-This boy has seen some stuff🙇🏻🥺. And he's slowly getting better with his muslophobia. He tries. The lawd is his chemo, slowly trying to vanquish this dark dark part of himself 👿🦹, bit by bit.

-Never underestimate the power of the lord. Amen.😗

(All u christians go hard tho fr, mad respect. And all u muslims out there we buddies, go snatch that Quran and be a boss kachow)

Historian Reiss (Progress? Don't you mean bull-kaka?)

-SOMEBODY CALL THE TRAD WIFES UP IN HERE👰‍♂️👰‍♂️👰‍♂️👰‍♀️👰‍♀️👰‍♀️👰‍♀️👰‍♀️

-Girly says that the 1950s were PEAK even tho the closest thing to diversity back then was whether or not u liked jazz 🎶🎶😎

-Oh yeah she sure misses them polio days 🤤😻

-But in all seriousness she probs wears those big pantaloon undies😱🥶 like gurl u aint going parachuting thru the clouds just wear normal ones

-She's always googling how to make her child rearing hips bigger🤰🤰

-Not a single pair of pants in HER wardrobe. Not that she'd be able to wear them with her double storage solution underpants. Dresses and skirts ONLY.

-Also they must all be FLOOR length to hide those temptatious ankles🥵🥵😩

-Our modest queen🫡

-She aint trust no supermarket ultra processed shit food either she gets her eggs straight from her own chickens ass🦆 and she grows her own veggies n stuff. Good for her 🤙💪💪

-Although she did once collapse ffrom an iron deficiency cuz she couldn't find her own meat source poor girl

-she hit her head and was unconious for lik 3 days

-Her neighbors saw her undies before they saw her🪂🪂🪂

PIXIS (Mommy, can we put grandpa back into the retirement home now?)

-Bros worse than the braus and springer daddies👹👹👹👹

-He could not only write an entire 500-chapter-50k-words-per-chapter-ten-part book series abt gay frogs🫦, fake moon landings🙀, reptilian politicians🐸, 5G towers, Big pharma, chem trails🥵😷 ect ect ect but he could fact check the entire thing with blurry memes off facebook sent to him by his cousin randy

-He's a fuckin conspricay chad, unstoppable, admirable, irrestistable, alcoholic, crazy, cute🥺, chic, chadilicious bald man👨🏽‍🦲👨🏽‍🦲

-His children shipped him off to a home as soon as he turned 60 and his knee vaguely started hurting

-Hes too powerful

-Pixis does gets invited to special occasions tho cuz his family feel slightly bad

-He be an anti-science, pro magic, potter grade, wizard baby🧙‍♂️. Of course the government control the weather, of course climate change isn't real. 🤷‍♀️

-And he tell everryyyboodddyyy @ the dinner table baby👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

-There are actually 8 wonders of this world. His offspring. How the. frick did they turn out so normal?🤨

-Anyways he managed to manipulate his son in law once and accidently caused a divorce

-Now he only gets invited to christmas

-And somehow he sneaks flasks of whatever into his nursing home illegally seals them out to all his nursing home pals.

-He's got an army of at least 15 of them that he's planning a coup with.🥳😏

-He also owns a MAGAs hat and suffers from mild heartburn because he only eats steak

Floch (LIBERATE THE MEN, WOMEN ARE THOTS)

-Another country boy but hes a skinny country boy who doesn't own a diesel guzzling man truck or get high blood pressure from eating steak 24/7.

-He lives wit his mama and eats the pasta salad she makes him for sunday lunch. 🧑‍🌾

-But yes he's still a freaky lil fanatic👹🧑‍🌾

-Imagine he lives in a world without pimp-dawg Eren Tate-ger. Whose Floch supposed to follow??? huh??? Donald thats who. Donald trump💪🦵.

-And andrew tate of course👨🏽‍🦲

-He's one of them red pillers who can sniff out a womans virginity from a mile away

-"Wats ur body count???"

-and hes very patriotic too:

-TRUMP IS JESUS 2.0, MY MAN THONG HAS AN EAGLE ON IT,CKAWW CAWW CAWWWW SAY YOU CAN SEE BY THE DAWN EARLY LIGHT WHAT SO PROUDLY WE HAILED AND THE TWILIGHTS LAST GLEAMING🦅🦅🏈🏈🇺🇸🇺🇸???!!!!???? DADDY TRUMPS TAN IS NOT FAKE GUYS WTFFF😡😡😡😡🤬🤬🤬🖕🖕🖕

-He's like a freaky little jehovah's witness guys

-he's so alpha dont you think?🐺🐺🐺

A/N: Sorry I think i fell off a bit at the end but I couldn't b bothered. Also yes ik the bertoldth one was a little wild but dont report me babes thank u very much. later losers.

[emchant3d]

Final part of Eddie forgetting about Valentine's day!! Part 1 Part 2

Thank you to everyone who's had a kind word to say about this, I hope the ending does it justice!

Eddie doesn’t know how fast he drives, just that he gets to Steve’s place in record time. The big house is quiet, Steve’s car the only one on the driveway.

All the lights are off, and yeah, it’s kind of late, but Steve is almost always up later than this. But even his bedroom window is cast in shadow, and something about it makes Eddie’s heart twist in his chest. 

He slams the van door behind himself and runs up the walkway, almost colliding with the front door when he reaches it. He beats on it, knocking hard enough that he knows the sound will echo through the empty house and up those grand stairs and right into Steve’s room, and he prays to anything that’s listening that Steve will come down and meet him.

“Steve!” he yells, like it isn’t late as fuck and Steve doesn’t have neighbors. “Stevie, baby, come on!” 

He feels frantic, like he’s going to die if Steve doesn’t get this door open in the next ten seconds. 

“STEVE,” he shouts again, slamming his fist into the door, right before it’s ripped open in front of him and he almost goes ass over teakettle through the doorway.

“Eddie, what the fuck?” Steve asks, frantic as he catches Eddie with a hand around his bicep, pulling him into the house and closing the door behind them. He flicks the locks one-handed because the other is holding the nail bat in the kind of absent grip that tells Eddie he wasn’t sure he’d really need it, but he was going to be prepared just in case. “What’s going on?”

“Why do you have the bat?” Eddie asks, like that’s what he should be focusing on, and Steve gives him a bewildered look.

“You’re knocking my door down in the middle of the night, why wouldn’t I have the bat?” And yeah, okay, fair, but Steve sets the thing down next to the front door and Eddie closes the distance between them. “I need to get you a key, that way next time you show up outta nowhere you don’t wake the whole neighborhood - uh–” Eddie takes Steve’s upper arms in a tight grip, interrupting him. “Eds?” Steve asks, looking at him, and shit, Steve looks too fucking cute when he’s confused. His thick brows are furrowed, lips turned down, big eyes all wide - and that’s when Eddie notices how red they look.

Bloodshot, a little swollen, like Steve’s been rubbing at them in that harsh way he does. He hates crying, feels humiliated when it happens, and Eddie’s been a witness more than once to the way he’ll bury his fingers in his eyes like they’ve personally offended him.

He’s pale, a little shaky, now that Eddie’s really looking, lips bitten red and sore.

He doesn't need to ask what's wrong. He's uncomfortably, acutely aware of what's wrong. Instead, he reaches up, laying his hand along Steve's jaw to smooth his thumb over his cheek. 

"Sweetheart," he says, and Steve glances away, gaze avoiding Eddie's. "I'm so sorry."

“Skip what?” This isn’t what he expected at all. He thought he’d get here and Steve would be angry, would be yelling. He thought he’d get chewed out, possibly broken up with, was catastrophizing the whole way here.

"For what?" Steve’s trying to keep his voice light, trying to keep it casual, but he reaches up and wraps his hand around Eddie's wrist, thumb pressing at his pulse point like it's his own lifeline.

"Honey, I know what I did now. We don't have to act like I didn't royally fuck up Valentine's day." Steve winces.

"Oh god," he mumbles, rubbing a hand over his face roughly. He paces a few steps away, looking absolutely mortified. "I was really hoping we could skip this." Eddie follows him with his eyes, lost.

“The part where you realize and we, like, talk it out.” Steve gestures between the two of them. “We don’t need to do this. It’s not a big deal.” He says it like he’s repeating something he’s said before, and Eddie’s heart sinks, wondering how often Steve has told himself that very sentence tonight.

“It is a big deal,” Eddie says cautiously. Steve opens his mouth to protest, but Eddie cuts him off. “You’ve been miserable for days, Steve, that’s a big deal.” Steve actually rolls his eyes, and Eddie barely bites his tongue.

“We can just move past this, though,” Steve insists, and Eddie approaches him slowly, like a spooked animal. Steve’s shoulders jump to his ears, but he doesn’t bolt away, and Eddie takes that as a win.

“What if I don’t want to move past it?” he asks, and Steve flushes an embarrassed pink, eyes darting around like he’s looking for an escape route. 

He sniffles, raises his hand to pinch his nose, and mumbles, “Please,” halting and quiet, “let’s just let it go.”

“But why?”  Eddie asks, and Steve makes an angry little sound.

“Cause it doesn’t matter!” he snaps. Eddie reaches out then, snagging Steve’s hand and pulling him in close. 

Steve fights him for two seconds before suddenly slumping against him, and Eddie sighs in relief, wrapping his arms around his baby and holding him tight. Steve gives a shuddery little breath, and Eddie lets him hide his face in his shoulder, turning his head to kiss his temple.

“It does matter,” he says fiercely. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I let you down. I’m sorry I hurt you.” Steve makes a quiet, protesting sound, and Eddie shushes him. “Let me apologize to you, you absolute brat,” he says, and Steve snorts a little laugh. “I’m gonna make it up to you,” Eddie promises. “I mean it. And I’m never going to forget about it again, I fucking swear, okay? I’m gonna get February 14th tattooed on my fucking face, I swear to God.” Steve finally laughs, a breathless, squeaky little thing, and Eddie smiles, pulling back. 

“Please don’t tattoo your face,” Steve mumbles, looking at Eddie with a crooked little grin. The expression reaches his eyes for the first time in days, and something in Eddie unwinds at the sight. 

“What, you don’t want me to ruin the moneymaker, huh?” he asks, and Steve laughs again, rolling his eyes. There’s some levity in the air, and finally, the frantic pace of Eddie’s heart slows. "Sweetheart," he says softly, because this is important, because this is on him and no one else but he can't not ask,  gentle and imploring and cupping Steve's flushed cheek to trace the shine of pink on his skin, "why didn't you say anything?" Steve's eyes flick away from his.

"It's stupid," he says, and Eddie frowns.

"What is?" And just like that Steve’s back to being annoyed, shifting in Eddie’s hold. He loosens his arms, watching as Steve starts pacing again. He walks closer, steadily closing the distance as Steve rambles.

"Being this upset! It's just - it's just a stupid day, right, like, we don't need a particular day to show that we love each other, it's commercialized and overdone and dramatic and it's stupid to be upset that you forgot one little day when objectively you're, like, fantastic. So I didn't want to say anything because it's dumb to be so worked up and make a big deal out of it and I need to just get over it--"

Eddie kisses him quiet. Maybe it's rude, but he knows when Steve gets going like this, works himself up, he'll talk in circles for ages. It's a mostly-endearing quality he's picked up from Robin, but Eddie knows sometimes Steve needs him to catch him before he spirals too far.

"No," he murmurs softly in the space between them when they part, lips still brushing one another's. "You do not need to just get over it." Because Eddie gets it, now.

Yeah, it's about the holiday. Steve is upset and hurt and Eddie feels like a total fucking asshole, and he's going to grovel for the rest of his life if that's what it takes. But this isn't just about Valentine's day.

"I'm being ridiculous," Steve insists. Eddie shakes his head, and Steve makes a frustrated sound. "I am. It is. It's stupid. I'm - I'm stupid–”

"Hey," Eddie says, and it's a little sharper than he means, but it works because Steve goes quiet, and the look he gives Eddie about breaks his heart all over again.

It's not about Valentine's day.

Steve is so, so used to not being taken seriously. To being dismissed. To being told to just get over it when he's upset, to being minimized, to the things that matter to him being framed as dumb or unimportant.

As stupid.

He's the strong one. The tank, made to take the hits and keep moving. He shouldn't have wants or desires. He's the caretaker, makes sure everyone is looked after, ensures they have anything they could ever want, goes out of his way to get it for them.

And he's shit at doing the same for himself.

"It's just a stupid day," Steve insists, but his eyes are wet and his voice is catching and he sniffles.

"Oh, honey," Eddie whispers, and Steve cracks, tears spilling over the edges of his red eyes and running down his pretty face. “Oh, sweetheart, come here. I’ve got you.”

They end up on the couch, Eddie holding Steve tight and whispering his apologies into his hair as his baby clings to him. 

“It’s not stupid,” he tells him softly. “You aren’t stupid. You’re allowed to want things, Stevie. You’re allowed to expect these things. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry I didn’t give you what you deserve.” He repeats his promises and doesn’t let the guilt eat him alive because he might not have been there when Steve wanted him, but he’s here now, and that has to count for something, he knows it does.

He’s here holding this beautiful boy as he cries and he dries his face with the soft sleeves of his sweater, whispering to him that he loves him, that he’s here, that he’ll make it better.

And Steve believes him, thank fucking God. Steve trusts in him, is looking at him with soft, hooded eyes, is pressing his mouth to Eddie’s and nipping at his lips and clinging to him. He’s letting Eddie strip him bare, letting him press him into the couch, letting him make love to him until he’s crying for an entirely different reason, clutching at Eddie’s back and gasping his pleasure into his throat. 

And that weekend Eddie brings his baby flowers, a stuffed bear, a necklace with a delicate silver chain and a small E hanging from it to join with the guitar pick that Steve has long ago claimed. He plays him the song he’d written for him, gives him the cherry chocolates, tells him over and over how much he loves him, and shows him in every way he can think of.

And through it all Steve keeps that sweet smile, and Eddie just knows he’s going to be spending the rest of his life keeping that look on his baby’s face.

Tag list! I'm very sorry if I've missed anyone!

 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zerokrox-blog @m-owo-n @honhonbaguettegofuckyourself @bejeweledbaby @snapshotmaestro @ineffablecolors @uwujinniee @munsonsduchess @avacrebs @estrellami-1 @huskysarelife @afewproblems @messrs-weasley @bitchysunflower @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nvybloo @unclewaynemunson @valecitainwonderland @megaweird-2-point-0 @resident-gay-bitch @disasterlia @iwouldsail @tinynebula @ilsewrites @umjamlam @booksandsience @xtkxkrzrizir @trikigirl271 @mistlafey @bornonthesavage @baron-zemo-trash @beckkthewreck @a-random-nerd @bela-valdis @goodolefashionedloverboi @em9515 @newtstabber @callmesirkay @ohwelsh

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hey I would like to request a good omens Crowley x reader angsty sad fic where they are pining over him but he loves aziraphale and they don’t want to interfere. Kind of Laufey’s song Let You Break My Heart Again vibes. Thx!!❤️

"Why couldn't I have what THEY had, [y/n]?! Maybe it's...it's all part of God's great ineffable plan! As if fallin' weren't enough...y'know? Why not allow him to walk outta my life and crawl back to the other angelss, too? Keep fuckin' me over, I suppose. This must be karma, I swear.."

"Crowley.." You began, only to stop as the demon on the other end of the line continued his drunken sorrowful ramblings.

He was still clearly hurting, and you were his only company left.

The only one who knew about him and Aziraphale and everything they've done together for the past 6,000 years.

You've been around for a thousand or so, not aligned with Heaven nor Hell, but living as a simple immortal being.

However, only very recently have you learned that they've in fact known each other since the very dawn of Creation.

So their history goes way back.

It's no secret that Crowley's been pining after the angel all these years, forced to pretend he hates him just because he was on the "opposite side".

But he was sick of doing all of that, and finally got the courage to tell him how he really felt. He begged him to stay, to stop taking sides, and to think about just them for once.

In the end, Aziraphale still chose the side that shunned him for conspiring with a demon, halting Armageddon, and hiding Gabriel on Earth...all because he was offered a higher position of power and couldn't so easily let go of Heaven.

Not as easily as Crowley could. He couldn't understand that, or why Gabriel and Beelzebub could go off together and they couldn't.

Now you were here, having to comfort the very same demon that you've fallen in love with yourself.

It felt like such a selfish desire, knowing that you haven't lived nearly as long as either of them. You weren't there at the beginning of Everything. You weren't there at the Garden of Eden.

You could never fully understand their deep-rooted bond.

There's no way he would ever see you in a remotely similar light.

Even still, the heart wants what it wants..even if it's unobtainable.

"Listen, Crowley.." You tried speaking again. "I'm next in line, do you want anything?"

Perhaps that was rather poorly worded, as you heard a sniffle and what sounded like him holding back a sob. "I just want him to come back.." His voice broke.

There was that feeling again, constricting your human heart with pain.

It was such a fickle organ, you often thought. It kept people alive, yet when put through emotional toil..it felt like it was killing them, and they wanted nothing more than to rip it out of their chest to be rid of the pain.

But right in this moment, you felt like that because deep down...you wish he instead said that he wanted-

"W-Wait..you're..at that café 'cross the bookshop, right?" You heard Crowley mumble. "I'll get the usual..assuming she remembers. Actually...don't bother-"

"It's fine, Crow. It'll be my treat. I'm getting something, too...not that we actually need it. But we both enjoy it, right?"

"...right." He chuckled depressingly. "Fine. I'll be outside."

That was a surprise, although when you briefly glanced outside the window of Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, you noticed the Bentley parked next to the sidewalk. You sighed, hanging up the phone before you stepped up to the register, smiling at Nina.

"Hello, Nina. I'll have my usual..and Mr. Crowley's, too. Six espresso shots, was it? And one of those [favorite flavor] pies, pretty please." You pointed to the menu.

"On it." She nodded, already getting to work on your order. "You know, I haven't seen that chap around in a while. How's he holding up? I heard he took it pretty hard."

"Yeah." You muttered, recalling how you've talked to her about your own feelings for Crowley.

You weren't expecting a human to solve the relationship woes of immortal beings when she herself was going through her own issues.

She worried that her and Maggie's little "intervention" caused the demon and angel to split up, but you didn't blame her. And neither did Crowley, although he was torn between wishing he didn't kiss Aziraphale and wondering if he'd regret not doing that at all.

He hasn't been back at the coffee shop since.

"Well, do you plan to tell him anytime soon?"

You nearly choked on your own spit. "N-Nina...I..I can't just do that. He clearly doesn't see me that way. He talks about him every day and night. I've stayed up past midnight consoling him, letting him stay with me the moment I learned he's sleeping outta his car. But...it's him he loves, not me. And I can't interfere with that..it would be wrong."

"Then...what's your plan from here?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"..I'm not sure anymore. I guess hope that one day..I'll stop falling in love with him. Maybe his angel will come back and everything will be as it was."

"Sounds like wishful thinking at this point, but I'm sure things will work out. Maybe he'll move on."

"I doubt it, but time will tell."

"Right." After finishing the drinks, she set them down into a cupholder, before giving you the pie as well. You paid and bid her farewell before heading out of the café and to the Bentley.

Inside, you saw Crowley sulking, lost in thought until you knocked on the passenger's window. He sat up with a start, fixing his glasses when he realized it was you. "S-Sorry."

The door opened, and you slid inside, passing him the tall cup with tons of espresso shots. "It's okay. So..where did you wanna go today?"

"I was thinkin'..St. James Park. Feel like I've been neglecting the ducks for far too long."

You blinked. 'Wasn't that..his and Aziraphale's thing-?'

"Yeah, I know..it...was our thing." He responded as though he read your mind. "'s just..been so lonely without him to chatter to. I hate siting all alone on that bench. But it's not like I can just walk Upstairs and tell him to screw all of them, right?"

"Sadly..no." Shaking your head, you glanced over your shoulder at the plants he's shoved into his backseat. Closest to you was a venus fly trap that had spots and other flaws, looking rather frail and wilted and sad.

Not too different from how its owner felt.

You smiled sadly and stroked the top of its head with your thumb, feeling it cease its trembles. Its mouth closed as it seemed to...purr?

How cute.

"Well would ya look at that...ya even treat the bloody things the same as he did.."

You tensed, looking back to Crowley and frowning upon seeing the tears sliding down his cheeks. But he was quick to wipe them away once you noticed them, yet a sniffle still managed to escape him.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to keep doing stuff that reminds you of him.." You set a hand on his back. "Do you...want me to drive?"

"No, it's fine.." He shook his head, sniffling loudly one last time before he managed to pull himself together. "Let's just..go."

You nodded, taking a sip of your coffee and a small bite of your pie, before you reached for the radio-

However, you forgot that the Bentley was sentient, instead turning it on for you and playing a song that nearly made you choke once again.

"--All I've had is coffee and leftover pie. It's no wonder why. Ooooh, still you take up all my mind. I don't even think that you care like I do. I should stop, Heaven knows I've tried..."

Even Crowley froze as he listened to the lyrics.

And not because it wasn't a Queen song.

"One day, I will stop falling in love with you."

Neither of you spoke a word, instead staring at the dashboard with looks of sadness upon your faces. You thought he would've changed the song by now, but...when you looked over, you could see his glasses now resting on the bridge of his nose.

His golden irises have almost completely taken over the whites of his eyes.

What little you saw of them..

Were growing redder and glossier.

"Some day, someone will like me like I like you."

You felt your own eyes start to sting, too, so you looked away and opted to pet the venus fly trap that was nuzzling your hand, clearly asking for more much-needed affection.

Sentient plants were easy to comfort.

If only your demon friend could be the same way..

If only you could show him that you wished to be more than just friends..but this simply wasn't your place to tell him that.

Not here, not now...and possibly not ever. For as long as you lived on this mortal plane.

All you could hope was that one day, the feeling will pass.

If Aziraphale came back, things might be better. You wished the idiot would at least check in with you both once in a while so you knew he was alive.

If that's the last time you hear from him, well....you weren't sure if Crowley would ever want to try loving again after what he's suffered through. He poured his heart out, only for it to get broken and stomped on before being left all alone on Earth.

He couldn't go through that again.

And you didn't wanna say anything about how you felt for the centuries you've known him. He could very well perceive that as you trying to replace him and ruin this friendship.

The wounds in his heart are still clearly fresh..and they likely will be for a long, long time.

For now, you'll just be by his side and be mindful. Perhaps he'll eventually realize how you felt about him...but you doubt it.

"Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie. Pretend we are more than friends. Then of course, I'll let you break my heart again-"

Crowley's hand suddenly shot towards the button, the car filling with an abrupt silence as he shut off the music. Then he switched between several Queen songs, eyebrows furrowed as none of them seemed to suit his current mood.

If Queen didn't make him happy anymore...he was seriously in emotional distraught.

But eventually he settled for "Somebody to Love", and you smiled, wiping your eyes as you leaned back in the seat. "Good choice."

He nodded absentmindedly, before finally driving off to the park after adjusting his glasses.

No further words were exchanged. You didn't even scold him for speeding down the tightly-knitted roads of London. That's the last thing he needed right now.

Especially since you picked up that habit from Aziraphale.

But even as Freddie's voice reverberated through the Bentley, you two couldn't stop thinking about the lyrics of Laufey's song and what it meant to both of you.

Yet the people it reminded you of...were completely different.

[ladydaybreaker]

Thoughts on the ending

So this isn't going to be as in depth as what some others have done...just my own personal thoughts. So, spoilers ahead y'all under the break

I felt the finale should have been longer. I felt that, especially towards the end, things were rushed and just slapped on in a 'well this happened'. Granted, this makes me have a bit more fun time with my 'job' writing out what happened for my stories as I get to play around...but at the same time, I wanted to see more.

I felt there definitely could have been more with J and Tessa (or "Tessa's" relationship, giving a better reason of why she sided with them than "I want to live". I kinda did the "Oh...so she knew the whole time." response when I saw J's reaction to the Solver bringing the ship down. Personally, I kinda hoped that she didn't know, which would have gotten a lot of very interesting interactions ranging from grief to confusion to absolute effing fury that the Solver took another thing from her. Which would have meant J fighting alongside N and V rather than against them...which imo could have been a cool thing. The "I hate you but I hate this thing more."

V I expected to be alive. In one way or another. Either she was going to be fully ok like what we saw in canon (that oil drag away in the ep7 teaser clued me in she survived) or we'd have Eldritch V to deal with before messing with "Tessa".

I do wish that the "Bus Crash Trio" had more of a relevance other than delivering the gun to Uzi and Khan getting to slam the door down on "Tessa" and stop her from eating N's core.

Also literally everyone but Doll and Tessa living was just a "aw come on..." from me (though there might be a chance to get Doll back from what I could see since we see Uzi's HUD flash her purple, Cyn's gold and Doll's red.)

I felt the entire episode could have been at least ten minutes longer.

Now, enough with the complaining and on to the stuff I liked.

The horror and action was wonderful. I adored the final fight against "Tessa" and J. The Hallway scene with "Tessa" stalking Uzi and N while giving Callback Pings to call Uzi back to her was chilling. Not to mention the whole "LetMeInLetMeInLetMeIn" scene. (I wish these scenes were longer, make the Solver horrifyingly threatening as it's toying with them/hunting them down). Also. Uzi's core literally trying to rip itself outta her chest as she's getting pinged was just horror fuel.

V and N's PTSD kicking in when "Tessa" confronted them just MWAH! Yes. All the Trauma for the cute murder bots. V's shrieks of terror and panicked "I need to get away!" moments were absolutely gorgeous and I will gladly enjoy messing with that in my own way.

The callback pings also made me squeal because that was something my awesome friend @banyanas created for their DD headcanons and we all kinda went feral over them. I'm glad to see them there!

Cyn lived. Even if she's not in her own body, I am happy to see the silly little chaos gremlin alive. I am STILL of the opinion that Cyn and the Solver are not the same person. As I kinda got that vibe when Cyn was talking to Uzi at the locker...it was a lot more kind and innocent compared to the earlier battle. Maybe it was her resignation of being stuck like that, I don't know.

Cori, effing Cori. I love the purple spitfire, still my favorite character to traumatize and love on and oh my god yes the Khori content. I am so glad she actually lived. Khan still loves his crazy beautiful wife even if she doesn't have a proper body (yet...I'm not convinced they don't eventually give her her body back). Tsundere Nori was sweet as she saved him and oh I'm totally not gonna weaponize this :3

Nuzi confirmed! My Biscuit Bites lovin' heart is happy. (Picks up Orion and Astra) Look! You two are somewhat canon now!

Uzi kicking god in the screen. CROSSROADS CREW! LOOKING GLASS BEAU AND FLIPSIDE VERA YOUR GIRL KEPT HER PROMISE AND KICKED GOD IN THE SCREEN!!

A detail I haven't shared much but have been thinking on was Uzi's eyes now. How they're a gradient of yellow and purple. I...will admit I did have the thought of when she gets stressed/frightened/angry there are little yellow glitches in them even though the Solver is destroyed in Suns, Moons and Stars.

All in all, still kinda 'ok' on the episode. My favorite is still Episode 4 though 7's up there. I wish some things went different but eh, that's what my job as a fanfic writer is.

As it stands, Thank you Liam, thank you Glitch, thank you Michael, Elsie, Nola, Daisy, Fitzy, everyone. All of you did your hearts' work and it very much shows. If not for you guys, I never would have met people I am honored and blessed to call friends. And I never would have started writing probably the longest story project I've ever done.

May you dance among the stars from adversity.

-Lady Daybreaker

[lady-of-nightmares-and-heartache]

The Secret

Crossed Chapter 2

Hobie talked about Spider Society often over the course of your friendship. Pav, Gwen & Peter B. were the ones he talked about the most. He also frequently complained about Miguel O’Hara and Jessica Drew.

Needless to say, you thought you knew what you were walking into when you made the rash to decision to take you and Hobie right back to the people that hurt him.

Now, standing in the middle of HQ, with a shirtless Hobie leaning on your shoulder for support, you feel incredibly stupid, and regret acting before thinking.

“Woahh…” you trail off, unable to really comprehend what you’re seeing. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of Spider people are walking all over the place. By the time you take in the massive compound, several Spider-people have noticed you and Hobie.

Hobie’s arm that’s draped over your shoulders tenses, and before you can ask why, you see who’s gotten his attention.

The Spider-person standing several yards away from you has massive shoulders and a scowl that puts a bit of fear into your heart.

You gather that this must be Miguel O’Hara.

“Listen love, i don’ know what’s gon ta happen, but if I tell you ta go, I need you ta go,” Hobie mutters quietly.

“Fat chance,” you shoot back.

Miguel stalks forward in large strides, but he’s going slow enough to make you begin to regret several decisions.

“Oi, this is a bloody bad idea,” Hobie tells you.

You ignore him.

Once Miguel is a few feet closer, he flicks his gaze towards the stitches in Hobie’s side and then back at you. A flash of *something* flickers across his eyes. Whatever it is has Hobie standing ramrod straight, removing his arm from around your shoulders.

Miguel smirks at Hobie’s uncharacteristic posture.

“Leave ‘er outta this mate,” Hobie says lowly.

“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” Miguel asks, his attention not really focused on Hobie, but rather yourself. Hobie steps in front of you protectively, and suddenly you find your voice, remembering why you ended up here in the first place.

“And just who do you think you are?” you demand angrily.

If Miguel is surprised by your boldness, he doesn’t show it.

“My name is Miguel O’Hara and I-“

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “I know who you are,” you huff impatiently. You side step Hobie and advance towards Miguel. “I mean since WHEN was Spider-Man the bad guy?”

Miguel’s fuse was already short, but having a non-spider person come after all that he’s been trying to save and vilify him has him exploding.

“I do what I have to do to keep all of our universes in tact,” he gestures to the Spider spectators, “including yours!” He jabs a finger toward your chest.

“And what could have possibly made you do that?!” You swing your arm back towards Hobie. A few gasps and some murmurs traveled through the compound like a wave.

“He could have died!! For what? Helping some kid that you guys treated horribly? Give me a break. You’re a shit leader if you think it’s okay to hurt one of your own,” your voice rises, blood boiling as you witness the establishment, everything that Hobie stood against fail who they’re supposed to support.

“You think this was about helping that kid Miles?” Miguel asks, genuine curiosity buried beneath the smugness in his demeanor.

“Miguel, that’s enough,” Hobie interjects firmly.

“She really has no idea does she?”

You look back at Hobie. Was he really keeping something from you or was this asshole just trying to get a rise out of you?

“I didn’t do that trying to stop him from helping Miles,” Miguel began. “In fact, he left the moment Miles escaped.”

Webs suddenly plastered themselves to Miguel’s mouth, preventing him from continuing.

“I said that’s enough, Miguel.” Hobie’s voice had dropped and he sounded deadly serious.

Rage transformed Miguels face as he ripped the webs off.

“Hobie Brown got that,” he points to the slowly healing wound, “because he tried to get back before his next canon event happened.”

This surprised you. “But I thought your canon event already happened?” you look back at Hobie, surprised that your spunky best friend wouldn’t meet your gaze.

Miguel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lyla!”

A little computer woman appeared and ran the program that explains everything. Each Spider-person goes through several canon events, most , if not all of them tragedies. There was a pang in your chest when you thought about Hobie. You had always assumed that being Spider-Punk was all fun and games.

“So you see, I can’t have two people trying to break their canon events. Hobie is, believe it or not, more predictable than Miles Morales.”

Predictable is not quite the word you would use to describe Hobie Brown, but you’re beginning to think that you maybe don’t know him as well as you thought.

Miguel can see the gears turning in your head.

“I have several spiders in Miles’ world to stop him from saving his father,” Miguel explains.

The statement sounds wrong to your ears ,but according to Miguel, it needs to be done.

“I went to your world to try to stop Hobie, hence how he got… scratched up. I’m not too late, but I clearly wasn’t as successful as I had hoped.”

Miguel all but sneers at Hobie. “I’ll admit I didn’t think he would bring you here.”

“He didn’t,” you correct Miguel. “I brought us here, I just used his watch.”

“That wasn’t really a great idea, now was it?” Miguel’s tone turned condescending. “Makes my job easier.”

“I’m having regrets, but it’s not the worst thing that’s happened.”

Hobie grabs your wrist, tugging you backwards. “Love, we gotta get outta ‘ere. Now.”

Miguel shakes his head. “I’m surprised it hasn’t clicked yet.”

You look back at Hobie, who now has your wrist in a death grip. Hobie’s struggling to maintain eye contact.

A second later, he looks completely devastated, as Miguel’s claws come out.

“He wants to stop his next canon event, by trying to save you.”

———————————————————————————

Crossed Masterlist

———————————————————————————

tag-list: @hellok1ttycake

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 6: The Devil Takes Care of His Own

Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

Rating: M? (Still figuring out the rating system) (might eventually be M anyhow)

Warnings: language, I think this chapter is pretty tame?

Word count: 2,255ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being a sounding board for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being a cheerleader, and allowing me to screech at her about things that have happened during the writing process. Seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y’all! 💛

Author's note: I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well! 💛🤓

Stella pulled up to the ranch. When she had gotten a text from Rip last night to come in today by noon, she had wanted to die. Breathing out loudly, she shut the car off and prepared herself for the potential heartbreak that was about to happen. She looked to her left and realized she had parked next to Kayce’s truck. ‘Shit. What’s he doing here?’

She immediately felt her chest tighten. What if John had lied to get him here to back him into a corner and to help make sure she would stay in line when he fired her and kicked her out?

“Fuuuuck,” she drug the syllable out quietly. She shook her head. ‘No. There’s no way Kayce would let that happen.’ Sliding her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, she hopped out of the SUV.

Glancing around, Stella could see a lot of activity for the day in full swing. It looked like they were separating steer prospects they didn’t want to keep. She didn’t see Kayce, but she did spot her brother. She smiled affectionately seeing him doing the work he loved to do. When her eyes landed farther to the right, she saw Tate leaning on the fence watching with childlike wonder.

She wandered over to the little boy. “Hey bud!”

“Oh hey Aunt Stell! Isn’t this cool?”

“Yeah it sure is. I love watching them.” She smiled. She whispered conspiratorially to him. “It’s even more fun to do it though.”

Tate looked at her with wide eyes. “You’ve done this before??”

She smiled. “Yessir I have. Plenty of times. With my brother and your dad, and your grandpa.”

“Woaahhh! That’s awesome! I wanna do it too!” Her best friend’s son practically started to levitate with excitement.

“Well you’ve gotta be just a little bit bigger for that, bud.” She chuckled. “Speaking of your dad, do you know where he went?”

“I think he went to talk to grandpa.”

Stella sighed. “Okay I’m gonna go find them. Stay on this fence and not the inside one, alright?” She ruffled his hair gingerly and he giggled. Stella knew Tate knew better, but she couldn’t help herself to give the warning anyhow.

Stella circled around and gave everything a passing glance. It was almost like an out of body stream of consciousness. Her eyes stopped as they landed on the two men in question looking in her direction. She was sure she turned seven different shades of pale. Stretching her neck from side to side, she walked toward them. Little did Stella know, they watched her from the moment she pulled in.

“Is this my judge and jury pair?” It was spiteful of her to say that. She cringed and started again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be like that.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” Kayce asked, surprised at her rough greeting. Stella’s eyes darted to John, whose face was stoic, but his eyebrows raised slightly. He hadn’t told Kayce.

She tried to smooth past her slip. “Nothin’. Y’all just seemed like you were ready to make big decisions for everyone’s day. So the judge,” she motioned at John, “and the jury.” She finished pointing to Kayce. “I’m also just in rare form today apparently.”

Kayce decided to ignore that and looked at his dad. “How’s that stallion treatin’ ya?”

“It’s the gift that keeps on giving.” John snorted and looked around.

Stella laughed quietly. “He’s definitely giving everyone a run for their money. And I’m almost outta money.”

“Kayce, let me borrow Stella for a second.”

The younger Dutton stopped shifting on his feet. He passed a look between his dad and his best friend, confused. “Sure. Don’t need my permission.”

John waved his hand for Stella to follow him. Kayce caught the sight of her wiping her hands on her legs. Why was she nervous to talk to his dad, of all people? This is the girl that told his dad to ‘go fuck himself and get off his high horse, it’s not just about you’ when she defended him back when she was 18. He reached out to grab her arm, but his fingertips barely brushed it. She fixed him with a look that made him stop any form of question.

When the eldest Dutton and Stella walked around the corner, she let out a heavy sigh. She leaned her shoulder on the wall while she placed her hands in her back pockets.

“Well, let’s have it, sir.” She tried to brace herself for the hit.

John pinned her to her spot with a look of warning. “I heard your conversation with Rip last night.”

“And I meant every word.” She answered confidently. “If you think I’d have loose lips, you really don’t know me like I thought you might have.”

Kayce had snuck up behind them. “What the hell are you accusing her of?”

Stella threw her hands up and let them slap back on her thighs. She hadn’t planned on telling Kayce, but he inserted himself into the problem.“Well, now is as good a time as any. I overheard a conversation, and decided to sneak out instead of making my presence known. Your dad saw me leave, and then I lied to him about it because I didn’t know he saw me.”

“So you’re questioning her integrity?”

“No, son, that already happened. I’m telling her she’s allowed to stay. My men trust her. My son,” he paused to look directly at Kayce, “trusts her. I’ve never had any issues. So I’m letting it slide. Once. I think she’s learned her lesson. But Stella?”

She looked at him wide eyed. “Yessir?”

“Lie to my face again?” She understood the hidden meaning of the slippery slope. “Now, I’m going to go see my grandson.”

“Stella, c’mon.” Kayce left her no room for argument. The way he turned and walked off told her he was definitely pissed. She rolled her eyes and fixed her glasses. “Come on.” She heard Kayce press.

Stella picked up her pace to catch him. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’. Jeez.”

Kayce whipped around at her when they got to the tack room. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?!”

She placed a hand on the middle of his chest to keep him out of her face, “woah woah woah there, cowboy. I didn’t keep anything from you,” then removed it just as fast. “You were dealing with a lot. It’s not your responsibility to mend my busted fences.”

“But he’s my dad, and he should fuckin’ know better. Especially when it comes to you.”

“Those kinds of things get forgotten. Especially when it wasn’t happening to his family, Kayce. Of course he remembers yours.” Both sets of eyes glazed over for a minute, recollecting the memory.

“I could have reminded him. I could’ve made your life so much easier.”

“Yeah, but how will I learn anything if you’re fixing things for me all the time?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “You won’t always be there to save me. Also, just because I’m your best friend, doesn’t mean I should get preferential treatment either. I’m still an employee here, ya know.”

Stella went to lean against the work table against the back wall. She leaned back on her hands and gazed at Kayce. “You know, this is the same exact conversation you helped me have with my brother when I turned 18. I’m not doing it twice.” She scoffed out a humorless chuckle. “Everything is fine, Kace. Next time I’ll announce myself to the conversation with bells and confetti.”

“That’s not funny, and you know it. This could have been bad.” He scoffed back at her, but still came to lean next to her. Touching shoulders like always.

“Rip wouldn’t have let it get there.” Stella defended.

Kayce had a sudden realization. “Wait, is that why you thought I was here? To help kick you out? Do you really think I would have let that happen?!”

She sighed harshly. “No Kayce. I don’t. I do, however, think your dad would have lied to get you here and back you into a corner. I’ve seen him do it before.”

“Also wait a minute, Rip?! I could stop the problem at the starting gate.” Kayce ignored the accusation about his father. He knew she was right.

She joked. “So now we’re derby runners? I thought we were cowboys.”

“Stella…” He let her name fall off in a warning.

She put her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. It’s not funny. If I saw things start to really go sideways, I would have come to you. I promise.” Stella fixed her glasses while she played with the bottom of her T-shirt. It was time to change the subject. “So how are you? How’s Monica?”

“I’m alright. Day by day, you know. Monica…? She’s holding on, but I can’t talk to her.”

Her face scrunched up. “Since when can’t you talk to her? I would expect that to happen between us before it happened with you two.”

“There’s something I did that can’t be forgiven.”

“Kayce… I highly doubt there is anything you could do, that she wouldn’t forgive you for.”

“Not this.”

“So what is it?”

“I can’t tell you either.” He looked down. Defeated. Stella observed him for a minute. He looked lost. Scared almost. The look reminded her of that day they snuck out and got trapped by a brown bear and she threw herself in front of Kayce right as Rip came galloping up to save them.

“Well, I know when you’re ready, you’ll tell me. But you’ve gotta talk to your wife, Kayce. You can’t leave her in the dark. It probably hurts her that you’re avoiding her.”

“You think I don’t know that? I just, can’t break her heart like this.” Stella reached over and patted his back between his shoulders.

“Whatever it is, cowboy, we’ll get through it. I’ll be here to help as long as you want me to be.”

Kayce pulled out his phone to check the time. His dad and son had been gone for quite some time.

“I gotta go get a horse. I need to find Tate.”

Stella practically jogged to keep up with Kayce. He was headed Rip’s way. Ryan and Colby walked in the opposite direction towards the friend pair. They were headed to dinner. Ryan could be heard calling Fred a dipshit. She let out a hearty laugh because it was the god's honest truth. As they got closer, they could hear Rip talking to Lloyd. He told him to give Fred his wages and send him on his way. ‘Oo shit.’ Her eyebrows raised. Jimmy limped by them.

She shouted at Jimmy. “What the hell happened to you?!” She stopped following Kayce to talk to Jimmy. In her peripheral vision, she saw Kayce stop and glance back at her and Jimmy to watch the interaction. Stella reached out to examine the bloody lip Jimmy acquired and the nice goose egg on his forehead. Kayce exhaled loudly, and Stella was all but sure there was an eyeroll and clenched jaw attached to it, but he continued moving.

Jimmy side eyed the youngest Dutton. “Uh, it’s nothing. You go catch up with Kayce.”

Rip yelled at Stella as he and Kayce went into the barn. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ clean ‘im up! Let everybody see!”

“I’m at least gonna give you some Tylenol. Rip can suck my ass if he gets pissy about me going to the bunkhouse for that. C’mon.” She pulled Jimmy along to the bunkhouse.

As Stella searched for the Tylenol, the air was tense between them. She could feel he wanted to ask her something.

“Go ahead and ask Jimmy. I’m mostly an open book.” She nosed around in the top cabinet.

“Oh it’s nothing.”

She looked at him disapprovingly above her lenses. “Yeah and I’m Miss America.”

“Okay so I’m probably wrong, but is there something going on between you and Kayce?”

If she would have had water in her mouth, it would have been spat across the room. “What?!”

Jimmy fidgeted around. “Well you guys are really close and I’ve seen how you look at him.”

Stella found the bottle in the back of the cabinet. She turned to face Jimmy with as much seriousness as she could muster and a deadpan face. “For the love of god, don’t repeat that thought to anyone else. I’ll be dead in 24 hours. Whether from embarrassment, or Monica murdering me herself, I don’t know.” She snapped the cabinet shut. “No, there's nothing going on between me and a married man. He’s just my best friend. Always has been, always will be.”

“Oh yeah definitely. I just maybe thought —,”

“— Well you thought wrong.” Stella interrupted, and roughly shoved the bottle at Jimmy. “Here’s your Tylenol. Keep those thoughts to yourself. Clear?”

“Crystal.” Jimmy watched as Stella stomped off. He heard the telltale jingle of her keys and the front door slam.

Stella stormed past the picnic tables where everyone had gathered. Ryan and Colby called out to her as she stalked by, only to be ignored and left perplexed. Even Rip and Lloyd shared a look.

By the time she made it to her SUV, she reached a boiling point. She huffed and puffed while blindly searching for the unlock button. Hopping in, she jammed the key into the ignition. Stella was ready to go home and get away from this cursed place for the night.

She felt like a child with how she reacted. If anything, her reaction made her seem guiltier than she was.

[rylanenthusiast]

the moment ryan realized his feelings for dylan ? 😊

initially this was not at all meant to get so…intimate? blame my thumbs for typing it out i was held hostage by my hands. I gotta admit tho, I’m not the happiest with this- but I’m trying to be less of a perfectionist so I’m posting it anyway :)

side note: I HIT 100 FOLLOWERS??? Y’ALL ARE THE FUCKING BEST FOR ALL THIS SUPPORT I KISS EVERY ONE OF YOU ON THE FOREHEAD.

It was one of those summer days where you can feel the heat of the sun cooking you from the inside out, so naturally, the counsellors decided it was the perfect day to host an impromptu water balloon fight- as per Dylan’s suggestion.

Ryan had almost decided to skip out on it to go listen to podcasts at the docks, but the way his sweat made his shirt cling to his chest was getting increasingly unbearable by the second.

They’re all gathered under the tree in the cabin area, the open space and cabins providing a formidable battlefield.

“Alrighty!” Dylan exclaims with a wide grin, clapping his hands to get all the kids and fellow counsellors attention. “If you would so kindly stand in a line so we can hand you your balloons, we can get this show on the road!”

Once the kids eventually settle into a (somewhat) line, Dylan begins explaining the rules to the game.

Ryan wants to listen but…he sorta just tunes it out. In his defence, the sun has practically fried his brain.

He’s suddenly brought back to earth as he’s handed two water balloons by Dylan, who winks as he places them in his hands.

Ryan’s cheeks warm, but he blames it on the sun peeking between the tree leaves.

He’s once again ripped out of his train of thought by the sound of a countdown.

“3…2…1…Go!”

He sprints off towards the direction of the radio hit, he suspects nobody will find him there because of all the (outdated) technology inside the hut which he assumes nobody would want to get wet.

-

He’s not entirely sure how long it’s been, but safe to say, Ryan had been right about nobody coming to check the hut.

He’s leaning against the wooden back wall, leaning out ever so slightly to try get a look at the game, until-

He feels a cold hand clamp over his mouth. He lets out a muffled yelp- and as he tries to turn around to see who’s behind him, he feels a wet torso pressing up against his back. Warm breath ghosts the nape of his neck.

A shiver runs down his spine.

“If you don’t say anything, I might let you go,” a familiar voice whispers into the shell of his ear.

Ohhhh shit.

He slowly turns around until he’s face to face with Dylan Lenivy. And fuck does he look good.

Ryan leans back against the wall, Dylan’s hand still clamped over his mouth. The boy is covered head to toe in water, his wet hair flopping onto his forehead, and his soaked shirt clinging to his lean torso. He has a shit-eating grin on his face, obviously enjoying this far too much for Ryan’s liking.

“You gonna do that for me?”

“Mhm,” Ryan muffles out.

For a second, neither of them say a word, Ryan’s wide eyes staring into Dylan’s which were flicking between his own and the hand he had over Ryan’s mouth.

Ryan can feel his heart in his throat. They’re so…close. Ryan’s back is planted against the wall and Dylan’s practically caging him in, his free arm resting to the side of Ryan’s head. The air between them is thick and heavy, and Ryan can feel his stomach doing flips.

“Good!” Dylan exclaims, suddenly pulling his hand away. Although, he doesn’t make an effort to increase the distance between them.

“…Fuck dude, you scared the shit outta me-“

He’s cut off with a giggle that has his stomach doing a different kind of flip.

“Sorry- sorry- I just- I couldn’t help myself-“

Dylan cant even finish his sentence he’s laughing so hard.

Ryan’s too busy fighting the blush creeping up his neck to notice the hand above him.

He looks up just a second too late to see Dylan’s hand release a water balloon straight over his head. The ballon bursts, soaking Ryan as he gasps at the sudden coldness.

He flicks his head down to look at his assaulter, glaring as he watches Dylan stumble backwards and begin sprinting in the other direction as best as he can whilst fighting a fit of laughter.

As he’s stood there, dripping water and soaked from head to toe, Ryan takes a minute to process what just happened.

The way being so close to Dylan had made him feel…the way he yearned for the feeling of his back pressed against his again.

No. Nope. There’s no way.

Shit.

[final-girl96]

Broken World: Chapter Forty-One

Daryl

Flashback

Mountains of Georgia 2010

Daryl was with his father, Will, and his Uncle Jess up at the cabin on a hunting trip. Everything was quiet and peaceful. Merle was locked up in the county jail for a couple of nights, which isn't anything new.  He got locked up for starting another bar fight.

Right now, Daryl, Jess, and Will were out in the woods hunting. Daryl was off on his own but not too far from where his father and Jess were. He could hear Jess telling Will about some blood. He heard the comment, “Has blood always been this dark?” He too had noticed some blood trails where the blood seemed to be much darker than he's ever seen before. Fresh kills always see a bright red. The blood he has been seeing is dark red, almost black, and it's still wet. He knows blood darkens as it dries and starts to coagulate, but this blood is still freshly wet.

It was all but a few minutes that he'd continued walking when he heard several gunshots go off, then Jess yelling out for him. It didn't take more than two minutes to reach his father and uncle. Will was laying on the ground, blood seeping from his neck. “Dad!” He ran over to him with mixed emotions running through him. “We have to get help for him.” Jess shook his head and looked at his own arm. “There ain't nothing we can do for him. Ya gotta put him down.”

Daryl's hand shook as he took the pistol from his uncle's hand. He brought it up, raising it to his father's head. He couldn't do it; he couldn't shoot his father. He wouldn't stand here and say he's never thought about doing it before. Because he has; he has thought about killing his father before just to be able to get away from the abuse. But here he was, standing above his father with a gun pointed at him, and he couldn't do it.

“I can't…I can't do it,” he said, dropping his arm. Jess took the gun from him and brought it up to look at his best friend; his brother. “Sorry brother,” were his final words to him as he pulled the trigger. Daryl flinched and looked away. There was no time to pick Will up to give him a proper burial, not when there were sick people…dead people?

Daryl wasn't really sure what was going on. All he knew was that these people were violent, and the only way to put them down was to shoot them in the head. He had learned that very quickly when he and Jess were running for their lives.

Daryl had fired the rifle in his hands, hitting one in the chest, right in the heart. A normal person would have gone down. But this one kept coming. They weren't even affected by it. They were surrounded by the time they got back to the truck. Jess was getting weaker and weaker. “Go! Get 8n the truck and go, Daryl! Find Merle and get outta here!” That was the last thing he said to Daryl before distracting the mob of infected. Daryl got in the truck and watched the only man he knew as an uncle be ripped apart.

The Prison

Spring 2011

YN

We had cleared the prison yard. It didn't take that long to do it either. Some of us went up into the towers, and the rest spread out on the other side of the fence. Rick was the one to make a run to the other gate that led to cell block C. Once that gate was closed and locked, we were able to relax for a little while and enjoy ourselves. After we got the cars pulled in, we gathered the bodies and put them in a pile on the other side of the yard far from where we planned to set up for the night.

A fire was built as the sky grew darker, and the air grew a little chiller. The squirrels Daryl had shot were cooked up and evenly portioned out. I was sitting by myself when Carol came into my line of sight. She held out a bowl with a small amount of meat in it. “I was going to take this to Daryl, but I think you should go do it.” I looked up at her and shook my head. “No, I think it would be better if you took it to him. He doesn't want anything to do with me.”

“Get up, you're going to go take this to him. Come on, stand up!” I raised my eyebrows at her. “Now. You can not keep avoiding each other.” I put my hands up and slowly raised to my feet. She handed me the bowl and pushed me a little to make me start walking towards the overturned bus Daryl was standing on.

“Brought you something to eat,” I said when I grew closer. I reached up and set the bowl down and started to climb up onto the tire. Surprisingly, Daryl helped me up the rest of the way. “Carol made me bring you this,” I said, handing him the bowl. “It's not much, but if you don't eat now, you won't eat at all.” He took the bowl with a head nod. “Guess little Shane over there has quiet and appetite.” I snorted at his comment, catching the smallest pull at  the corner of his mouth.”

Silence fell between us as Daryl ate. I looked behind us at our group; our family. That's what they are, right? They're our family. We've been through some much together for the past year. “Where were you when the outbreak happened?” I asked before I could stop myself. Daryl licked his fingers as he side eyed me. “Was at the cabin with my dad and Jess.” I nodded my head, looking down at my boots.

“Dad was the first to get bitten. Had his neck ripped out. Jess handed me his pistol to put him out of his misery but…I was too much of a coward to do it. Jess shot him, and we ran. When we got closer to the truck, we had a group of walkers on us. Jess had been bitten when he tried to save dad, so he sacrificed himself for me to get away. I hopped in the truck and took off.”

It was surprising that Daryl opened up to me at all. “What–what about Merle? Where was he?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself. “County jail.” I hummed, nodding my head slightly. “Starting fights at the bar?” I asked him, and he nodded with a grunt. “But you were able to get him out. That's a good thing. He didn't end up like these prisoners. Yet again, Merle would have found his way out of there one way or another.” Daryl scoffed out a laugh and started to climb down from the bus. “Come on.”

[headstrongblake]

“ i found myself driving home and then. well i was on my way here. ‘cause i guess…you’re still my home. ” / kassy & nick / @thewholecrew

tensing and flexing his hand, nick grimaced at the needled pain he felt spread throughout his palms, proving to himself he still needed this new routine he'd found. sprinkling tiny amounts, at first, of the heroin into his rolling tobacco. with a heavy sigh, he reached for his newly rolled smoke, tucking it behind his ear as he cleaned his side table of any trace, locking everything away in his safe behind the painting. too paranoid, even in his own home, that he'll somehow be caught.

as nick returned the painting to its spot over his safe, he checked his phone mindlessly, strolling out of his bedroom to smoke in his garage. there were no texts or calls from octavia or alec. certainly, there were none from rev or kassy, the person he wanted to hear from most. just a few unanswered ones from hunter and atom, but his mind lingers on kassy as it usually does in his home. pocketing the phone, he fiddled with his lighter, about to step into the garage, when he heard a knock at the front door. brows furrowed. no one stops by anymore. his home nearly abandoned in the months he's been gone.

with a gun in sight in the cabinet by his door, he stepped back, unprepared to see kassy's familiar figure through the privacy glass on his front door. his heart skipped before clenching painfully in his chest. quickly, he took the rolled smoke from behind his ear, tossing it up beside his gun as he went to unlock the front door, greeting her with a pained, adoring gaze. "kass, hey, come in; it's madness out there," he noted the unforgiving wind despite the summer warmth as he pulled the door wider, stepping back for her to enter if she wished. god, he hoped she did. she came here...that had to mean something, right?

patiently, nick waited for her next move, chest tightening as he sucked in a breath, crystal hues following her movements inside. love and regret swirled inside him, clashing together as he held his tongue, thankful that she was here at all. let alone coming inside without one of her friends in tow. or maybe that's why she's alone...she'd rather not have an audience when she rips into him for the way he showed up at alec's wanting to see him. when she forcefully tells him to stay outta her life. panic creeps up his spine then, "you need me for something?" he asked, frowning at his poor word choice. "i meant, what brings you by?"

i found myself driving home and then. well i was on my way here. at kassy's admission that she hadn't exactly meant to show up here, yet here she was anyway, nick couldn't stop himself from reaching for her if he tried. even if she pulled away from him to create space, he felt that instinctive need to touch her, his fingertips gently grazing against her soft skin along her forearm. "kass..." but her head shook, silencing him as he kept his eyes on her, brows pinching together. god, what could he do to make this right? there had to be something. he'd do anything.

‘cause i guess…you’re still my home. those four words stole every bit of breath from his lungs, his hand cupping her arm fully as he stepped closer. "kassy...i will never not be sorry for leaving the way i did," he confessed. gingerly, his free hand rose to touch the ends of her hair, "it was thoughtless of me, i wish i hadn't hurt you...i was so tunnelled in..." he shook his head, clearing his throat of any excuses. it didn't matter what he intended. how he wanted to bring grant home. all his reasons meant nothing because, in the end, he'd hurt the one person he never intended to. never wished to. "please stay for a bit..." he offered.

[roxie-roo]

PROMPT!!

Solidaritygaming: I'd like to call a group meeting at spawn

Most of the rulers rolled their eyes at the request. Some felt something bad churning in their gut. Jimmy didn't usually call meetings, meetings were usually called about Jimmy.

Regardless of their level of concern or intent, they all equipped their elytras and took off.

Jimmy was already at spawn. He was sat in his seat around the campfire, legs crossed and arms folded on his chest. Hit hat cast a shadow over his face and made whatever expression he may be donning unreadable.

Under the brim he watched all the other emperors swarm in the skies. They all landed with their own varying levels of grace and crowded around the campfire, seemingly sneering at him already. And he hadn't even moved a muscle.

"Well, we're here." fWhip speaks for the group.

Jimmy stands up, "Glad y'all could make it." He flicks the brim of his hat and it sits higher up, revealing his face. He.. He looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep. Dark bags under his eyes that no longer held a playful shine to them, making them look dull. Maybe even lifeless. His beard is untrimmed and unkempt, making him look even worse for wear. The hair under his hat must be just as messy and greasy.

Jimmy takes a flint and steel out of his pocket, "This won't take long." He sort of smirks. It's tired but wicked.

He strikes the steel against the flint and sparks fly, landing on the grass at his feet and creating a free inferno. It was wild and tall and hot, unlike the contained fire under the charred roast at spawn.

The group yells and stumbles back, shrieking at Jimmy for his recklessness. The blond simply rolls his eyes and puts the flint and steel away.

"Don't worry. Ya can put out the fire after I leave and y'all won't hafta hear from me ever again." He takes his hat off his head, holding it over head heart and staring dead at the group in front of him.

"But I wanted to make sure all o' y'all were present fer this."

Maintaining his eye contact, he drops his hat into the fire between them and lets it burn.

"I'm done."

Scott surges forward first, pushing past everyone to get to the front. "Whoa whoa whoa! What the Hell?!" He shouts.

Before Scott can pull up his inventory for a water bucket Jimmy rips the badge off of his vest and also tosses it into the fire. That makes everyone else start yelling.

"Oh shut yer traps!" Jimmy yells above everyone. They pause, never having heard such genuine anger from the man.

"Quit actin' like ya actually care now! Yer all free o' me forever, ya should be celebratin' or whatever you had in mind fer when the day came." His voice cracks and quiets down at the end.

"Why would we celebrate? You're our friend!" Joel says. Jimmy gets angry all over again.

"Oh so we're friends now? Was I yer friend when I was shrunk and tossed 'round like a toy? When the one person I trusted turned 'is back on me an' started tellin' lies!" fWhip shrunk back at that one.

"Or how 'bout all those times I was killed an' had my shit stolen for the pettiest reasons! Was that all outta friendship, Joel?!" He was yelling again. But he had good reason to be. He was angry, dammit.

"Or are y'all upset I gave up an' none o' y'all was able to take me down yerselves?" Jimmy was gonna start crying if he stayed around any longer. He didn't want to cry around these people. He wanted their final memories of him to be angry and unforgiving.

"Jimmy.."

"I'm done. I'm leavin' and y'all won't have to deal with me yellin' for respect anymore. Enjoy the peace n' quiet." Jimmy turns around, not even bothering to see who'd started to call his name. He kicks off the ground and fire off a rocket to propell him through the air and away from spawn.

But the direction he was going was away from Tumble Town.

SHADOW. SHADOW I AM TAKING YOU BETWEEN MY TEETH AND SHAKING YOU AROUND LIKE A DOG. HOLY SHIT I'M ABOUT TO START CRYING AND I HAVE TO LEAVE IN FIFTEEN MINTUES YOU BASTARD- OH MY GOD THIS IS SO GOOD?????? I LOVE THE TOUCH OF THE ACCENT AS A SOUTHERNER I COULD HEAR IT PERFECTLY AND *MWAH* CHEF'S KISS HOLY SHIT

I AM, I AM INCONSOLABLE

[miss-writes-a-lot]

Not-So-Sweet Sixteen (Hurt Hawks Week Day 4: Blame and Family)

(Part of my villian! Suzume au. Implied Dabihawks)

They say never become your parents, but at the same time, one begins to notice that in some way, a small part of you ends up inheriting at least one, ugly little thing from them. That one, maggot of a thing that you always told yourself you would never do or be stuck with when you have kids of your own.

In Hawks' case, it was leaving his behind.

It was supposed to be an easy bank robbery – just a couple of dumb kids with quirks thinking themselves to be big and bad villains trying to hit up one of the biggest banks in Fukuoka. He would be in and out in five minutes.

He doesn't expect to see her there, holding a bag of cash in one hand and a shard of heated but hard glass to the neck of an unconscious receptionist in the other.  He doesn't expect her to listen when that boy tells her to take the cash she has and book it out the side of the building.

He doesn't expect his body to fail him a few seconds too long and get a shard of her glass stuck in his shoulder.

He apprehends the rest of the teens – he gets away thanks to her distraction – and sends a feather after her. Once the other heroes and the police show up, he books it out of the bank.

Admittedly – and he really hates to admit it – he is slower than he usually is. On purpose.

A part of him wants her to get away. Away from that boy, away from this life, away from him. She doesn't want to see him, he can't bear to face her. It makes sense.

But, he's still a hero, and whether she likes it or not, he's still her dad.

He has to try.

He corners her down some tight alleyways. She's got a white knuckle grip on the bags of cash and doesn't look back at him, but she knows he's there. The glass digging further into his shoulder, burning into his muscle is proof of that.

"Suzume!" he shouts, picking up speed, "I know you can hear me! Stop!"

"Fuck off!" she spits back. Her palms start to glow orange.

Hawks narrows his eyes, "Stop or I'll make you stop!"

He hears her scoff. He lands on his feet and detaches his feathers. He sends half of them in front of her to form a sharp red wall while the other half does the same behind him. Her boots screech to a halt, her body mere centimeters from colliding with the wall. She whips her head back at him and his breath gets caught in his throat.

She looks too...old for sixteen. It doesn’t help that she has her daddy’s height, and it’s even less ideal that those blood covered, steel toed boots add an inch or two more. Maybe that’s what all Fathers think of their daughters at some point, but seeing her with scars on her upper left arm and exposed abdomen, the long, clawed raven gloves that match the thick black mask over her equally scared mouth, the dark brown hair where her blonde is supposed to be -

She can’t be sixteen anymore. It’s not possible. 

Sixteen doesn’t run down alleyways with bags full of stolen bags of cash. Sixteen doesn’t have this many scars on them. Sixteen doesn’t have that look of murder in her sunset eyes.

She holds up her fists, calling the shard back to her. It painfully rips out of Hawks’ shoulder and it flies into her hand. She holds it out to him.

“One more step and I’ll cut you!” she threatens.

Hawks hides a hard swallow. He crosses his arms over his chest and stares her dead in the eyes. Their eyes…

“I think you’re shit outta luck there, Baby Bird-”

“Shut up!” she shouts, “The fuck are you even doing? You caught me, asshole. What are you trying to do here?”

“I just wanna talk.”

She scoffs again, rolling her eyes, “Yeah, right. Like I’m supposed to believe that either of you are starting to care about me now?”

Hawks’ eyes widen, “You talked to your dad?”

“You can say that,” she replies with a half hearted shrug, “And I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told him. Stay the fuck outta my life. You didn’t want any part of it when I was around, so don’t even try to start now.”

“Suzi, I-”

“No! No. You don’t get to call me that, Hawks,” her voice drips venom as she tightens her grip around the shard of glass, “I’m not your Baby Bird, or your Chickadee, or your Suzi Q, or - or whatever! I’m not your Suzume anymore. I’m not yours anymore. You made that pretty clear when I left the first time.”

Hawks bites the inside of his cheek. He closes his eyes as the memory of that night burns its way into the front of his brain. His voice echoes in his ears alongside the sound of a slamming door and fast footsteps dashing through tall grass in a dark night full of cicadas. He opens his eyes. She’s still there, still holding the glass toward him.

Her hand’s shaking.

Sirens wail behind them. He hears Suzume swear under her breath. Her head whips around in all directions for an exit that she can’t find - not with him around.

He clenches his fist. 

‘Don’t do it. Don’t do it. You’ll lose her again if you do it. This is your only way to get her out and away from him. Don’t fucking do it-’

He lifts the feathered wall behind her. She stares at the opening in surprise, turning her head back to him.

“Go,” he says, nodding down the alleyway, “We’ll see each other again soon.”

She glowers, “Don’t count on it.”

She takes the cash and bolts down into the darkness. He listens as the click of her heels slowly disappears alongside her shape. He doesn’t leave until he can’t hear her anymore.

But he always hears her. 

He hears her laughs, her cries, her pleas for forgiveness and affection, her worry - he hears it all, like a record on repeat.

And from the sounds of it, Dabi’s been hearing them too.

If only he had listened better.

[ruinmegently]

pull me under — felix / wash

context: Wash ends up getting taken with the New Republic group. Some time has passed.

Wrote this for my partner and wanted to share. 🍯

--

He's a monster, right? Like, ain't nothin normal goin on up in that head'a his. Or, maybe a few things. Cause Felix can function — he can pretend to be a person and not a thing wearing a skin suit — but that doesn't mean it's easy, or that the rage that makes up more of his being than muscle or sinew is any simpler to control.

He's mad at everything. The whole fuckin world. Let it rot. It would've let him. Eye for an eye, after all.

But most especially he's mad at Agent fuckin Washington.

The guy's gonna ruin everything with his swimmy gross baby blues and disgusting smile. Felix could handle it, really, he's had his fair share of pretty faces to fuck around with.

But the niceness? The way Wash makes him feel seen?

Fuck off with that, man.

"Hey," Wash says, nudging Felix's shoulder with his own. They sit side by side on the edge of the dock, feet dangling above the underground lake. They could dive in. Sink into the pitch. Let the hungry unfamiliar fish pick them apart until they're nothing but bone, indistinguishable.

"Where are you?"

Felix shakes his head, glassy eyes focusing in. He squints at Wash.

"Right here, ya dumb fuck."

Those awful eyes watch him for a good long while. A hum builds in the other man's throat. Wash turns away with a half-smile. Stares down into the blips of bioluminescent tendrils swimming around in the lake.

"It's okay, you know. To wander off. Just come back and say 'hello' every now and then."

Their hands are so close. Rough and calloused, palms resting on the wooden dock. A pinky finger inches over and lays across Felix's own. Felix jolts his hand back like he's touched the hot burning eye of a stove. Wash doesn't say anything, doesn't move away. Just keeps looking into the depths of the lake, that idiot smile still warming one corner of his mouth.

Felix scowls down at his own hand, now lying palm-up in his lap. He wants to reach over and dig his nails into the squirming, squishy meat of Wash. Needs to see this guy bleeds the same kinda blood as everybody else. Just a worm. Just as insignificant as the people whose lives Felix has destroyed in the wake of his own madness.

The army really makes a man outta ya, huh?

He doesn't rip Wash apart. He should, and he knows this bone-deep. But he doesn't.

"Ya ever wonder why we're here?" he says instead, the words pouring out cause he's too full and drowning and Wash has poked enough holes to ease the pressure but maybe Felix has gotten used to it — to bursting at the seams, spilling out so quick reckless violent there's even less of himself left than the people he ends up washing away.

Wash snorts. Shakes his head. Felix feels compelled to clarify. A certain heat rises on the nape of his neck. His words run away with themselves, he's just the guy stuck watching them leave.

"Like, what the fuck's the point, right? People like us? We should'a died a long fuckin time ago. I mean, we're damaged goods all pieced together, just waitin for the repo man to come collect. Meanwhile John Doe down the street keels over due to a heart attack and leaves behind his husband of fifteen years and like two-and-a-half daughters. That ain't fair. Life's not fuckin fair. So why us? Why are we here?"

Panting (because of the tirade, and not because of the tight coil in his chest only cinching tighter, nope, fuck you), Felix turns wild eyes onto the guy sitting placidly beside him like Fi ain't some monster in the closet.

"Two and a ... half?"

Wash blinks at Felix.

Felix blinks at Wash.

"... that's what you took away from that?"

"I mean, how can you have half a daughter? Even if she's really short, she's still one whole person."

"I fucking hate you."

Wash grins like he's in a long running contest with a star to see who's more luminous.

Felix bares his teeth, the mask of crazy slipping through. It's too much, okay? He can only take so much of himself. He blew Locus off again about the mission. Second time in as many months. Big guy's getting suspicious. Not that there's anything to be suspicious of, just. It isn't like Felix to not jump the gun.

And fuck, he ain't even riding another gun. Because of course it's some demisexual romantic piece of shit he's developed this garbage fucking crush—

Wash reaches over again. The dumb idiot pinky curls around Felix's (when did he drop his hand, put it back there between them?) and this time Felix just stares at it. At this point of contact between them. At the second try despite Felix's earlier rejection, reaction.

At the sound of that same gentle hum building in the back of Wash's throat.

"C'mon big bad, you know why."

Felix looks away. Stares so deeply into the water he imagines he can see pale sightless eyes roaming in the deep.

"Because if I'm stronger than you, and if I'm faster than you, then I can kill you." Yeah. Simple, easy. He's here because he's better. Because he's a survivor, a murder—

"What?" Wash says with a laugh. He shakes his head, smile at odds with the perplexed look Felix gives him. "No no no."

The Freelancer scoots closer. His pinky finger squeezes gently. He stares forward while Felix digs a crazed (needful, desperate) glare into the side of his head.

"You're strong, yeah. And you're fast. And that's what helped you survive when all the odds were against you, sure."

Wash takes a deep breathe.

"But that's not why you're here, Felix."

The guy turns, then. Gives Fi a once-over that crawls beneath his pores and digs up all his secrets. The ones that really matter.

"You're here cause you're not done. Sure, maybe John Doe down the street has a family, but that's not the only important thing, you know? You're just as important. The life you haven't lived yet, matters. The story you haven't told yet, it means something."

Wash shrugs, kicking his heels into the water. Droplets splash up. He watches them attentively, seemingly lost in thought.

"Just because you don't know why doesn't mean there isn't a reason."

Felix pops.

He pulls their gently joined hands apart only to fist through Wash's short blonde hair.

Drags him in for a vicious kiss. One that proves how unholy Felix is. He groans dirtily into Wash's mouth, parted on a surprised gasp, and before the wild animal inside Fi drives him into quite literally biting out Wash's pretty wiggling tongue, Felix—

Jerks back and shoves Washington into the lake.

They guy drops like a rock, only, y'know, with a yelp and a whole lotta flailing.

Wash breaches the surface quickly and yells, "Fucking asshole!" but he's giggling too, and Felix can't help the broad, toothy smile plastered on his lips, or the way he snarls when Wash splashes water up onto him.

He dives in soon after, fully clothed, and wraps himself so tight around the other man they sink, and sink, and sink. But that's okay. Cause Wash is there to kick strong legs and pull them right back up.

After they reach the surface, Felix is still gasping for breath when Wash kisses him like maybe that's why they're here.

[the-unending-journey]

Putting this under a readmore for patch spoiler reasons

Gonna need SE to get outta my brain, because Athena's transformed state is VERY similar to a character of mine, who is ironically a deity of creation/life/light

Not only just that but

Blue/white color scheme

Divine and eldritch

Has an entire fucking galaxy in their chest

Wings, wings, wings

Is not a motherly sort like one would assume a life god to be. They're actually extremely cold and calculating and just sees their creations as tools and projects

Absolutely sees the my main OC they possess as just a means to regain their former glory. Only cares about her as 1) a creation of theirs and 2) as the vessel. There's hardly love there

Literally ripped their own heart out so they could think more logically and not with emotions (their heart became their planet's deity of love)

Their name is Genesis - literally the beginning of creation itself

I just... Idk man there's a lot of parallels there! And I'm not trying to like, be egotistical or anything, I just think it's pretty hilarious