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katecarteir · 4 years

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I want these words to make things right (but it's the wrongs that make the words come to life)

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier [reddie] rating: teen & up word count: 10,531 summary: Richie Tozier runs an anonymous tip for superheroes in the town of New York City. Sounds like a great idea, until you throw in the ex boyfriend superhero he's still in love with, and the weird blue eyed man who somehow figured out the man behind the blog ⤹ a NOT birthday fic for the lovely leigh (@s-s-georgie)

perma taglist: @jwilliambyers, @stebbins, @isaacslaheys, @s-s-georgie, @transrich@eddiefuckinkaspbrak, @edstozler, @emgays, @anellope, @thorn-harvester-ven, @wheezyeds, @vipertooth, @tozierking, @billdenbrough, @starrystoziers, @trashmouthtozierr, @willelbyers @itfandomprompts, @loserslibrary (let me know if you want added!)

read on ao3

Spotted!: The one and only FlyBoy, rescuing not one, not two, but six students of New York University from a late night fire in the little coffee shop down on Old Broadway. Damages to the building were extensive- and it’s going to be closed for a very long, unknown future- but nobody was harmed thanks to our very own eye in the sky. FlyBoy, we salute you and I think we can speak for everybody when we say that we sleep better knowing you’re out there.

Richie sent out the blast, still smiling at his phone. He’d barely even opened his eyes when he’d rolled over to grab his phone, which wasn’t anything abnormal. Richie ran one of the most popular blogs in New York City, completely anonymously. It had started out as his own interests, keeping taps on all the iconic heroes of their great and crime ridden city. It had quickly grown in regular viewers and subscribers, everybody realizing how coinvient it was to one location with all the information. More reliable information than the actual news, if Richie did say so himself.

“Really? FlyBoy again?” Richie’s roommate, Beverly Marsh, barged into Richie’s bedroom without knocking. “Don’t you think you’re getting a little too hung up on this guy? You’re running an update blog, not a FlyBoy fanblog.”

“FlyBoy is the guy to watch for.” Richie shrugged as he rolled out his bed, reaching out blindly for his glasses that he’d left on his bedside table. Beverly was standing at the edge of his bed with her hands on his hips. “Why are you looking at me like that, Mom?”

Beverly grabbed an NYU crewneck off the floor and threw it over his head. “FlyBoy isn’t the only superhero in the city, Richie! You’re falling off your brand and you’re going to lose your following. And in case you hadn’t noticed, your following pays most of our bills.”

Richie rolled his eyes. He grabbed his lucky jeans off the floor and slipped into them without changing his boxers, getting a little too much enjoyment out of Beverly’s cringe. “Would you chill out? I’m still just reporting the news, Bev. It’s not like anything else happened last night.”

“Dr Incredible stopped a bank robbing,” Beverly pointed out without even needing to look at her phone. “You didn’t say anything about that. Not to mention- Captain Fast literally saved an entire family from plunging off a bridge in their car last night. You know, Eddie Kaspbrak? Your best friend? The love of your life? I think maybe that would be a little newsworthy, don’t you?”

Richie scraped his black curls into a bun at the top of his head and started throwing textbooks into his backpack. “Beverly, I have had my eyes open for all of ten minutes, and seven of them have been you lecturing me on how to run a blog. I will post the rest of the events from last night and anything that happened this morning on the way to class that I need to go to. Because I have a life, so unless you wanna take over all the blog responsibilities… get off my dick.”

Beverly scoffed as Richie pushed past her out the door to his room, shouting at him that there was brewed coffee on the counter even as they both knew that Richie was going to be stopping at Starbucks for something that was more sugar and syrup than actual caffeine.

Richie went to the same Starbucks every morning before class, and every evening after classes let out. Stanley from his Psychology 101 worked there, and he never failed to give Richie shit about his nasty habits. He was a scrawny man, with tight curls. He was always well dressed under his work apron, light coloured button ups and pressed jeans. He always looked so put together and proper that Richie wanted to frazzle him and mess him up completely.

Stan’s customer service happy expression dropped into a look of disdain. “You’re back. Again.”

“Everyday, Stanny, you know me.” Richie leaned against the counter and winked at the unimpressed barista. Stan turned away from him, putting Richie’s regular order into the register. “Gotta get that caffeine fix.”

“I’d hardly call this caffeine by any means.” Stan let out a scoff as he finished ringing up the order. Richie handed Stanley the cash, and tried to chase the barista down the line in the process of making Richie’s entirely familiar order.

“You can’t lean over the counter like that.” Stan said in a low, bored tone. “You know, you’re lucky it's in my job description to be nice to you.”

Richie chuckled, watching as Stan applied a double spray of whipped cream that Richie certainly hadn’t paid for. “If this is you being nice to me, I would hate to see you mean.”

“Yes, you would.” Stan placed Richie’s pale drink down onto the counter and slid a straw over to Richie without Richie needing to ask. Richie grinned, and took a long, overly dramatic sip before turning away. He nursed the drink throughout his short walk to his campus building, and tossed it- half finished- into the garbage before ducking into his lecture hall. He slid into his regular seat in the far left side of the hall, then frowned as somebody sat down on the other side of him.

It was a cute enough guy, with soft brown hair that flopped into his face. His eyes were an icy blue and there was a scar running through one eyebrow. Richie felt goosebumps jump up on his forearms as the boy stared at him.

“You’re R-R-Richie T-Tozier, right?” Bill said, voice pleasant even in the low tone. It soothed Richie in an odd way, and he felt himself lowering his guard even as he wondered why he was doing it.

“Yeah…” Richie said slowly, lifting his pen towards his mouth and biting down on the bottom end. “And you are?”

“My name is B-B-ill.” He said, before glancing over his shoulder. He bit down on his bottom lip and leaned in closer to Richie’s space. “You’re the runner of Spotted!, right? The superhero tracker blog?”

Richie blinked at him. His teeth threatened to break through the plastic of his pen. He cleared his throat awkwardly and looked forward at the professor, droning on about something Richie couldn’t care less about, especially with how his heart was pounding in his chest. “Sorry, man. I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

Even as Richie refused to let his gaze waver from the front of the room, he could feel how Bill’s eyes continued to burn into the side of his head. “Well.” Bill said, voice somehow seeming much closer to Richie’s ears than he felt it should be. “If you a-ar-are the m-man behind the sc-screen, I th-thought you sh-should know that Pr-Professor Fly will make an app-appearance tonight.”

Richie jerked his head to look at Bill, but the other guy was already standing and making his way through the lecture hall. He didn’t even turn around as Richie unabashedly stared at him. Professor Fly had once been the biggest, most known superhero on the NYC scene. Along with the flight powers that his name implied, he’d also been strong and fast. He’d had a plethora of powers, so many it was beyond abnormal. Nearly three years ago, Professor Fly had stepped onto the scene with a mentee- none other than FlyBoy- and only six months after that he’d completely dropped off the face of the Earth. FlyBoy continued to work in the city, and make a bigger and bigger name for himself, but Professor Fly had not been seen in over two full years.

It was juicy information, no doubt. The kind that made Richie’s stomach tense up and his palms sweat. If Professor Fly was coming out of retirement, that could only mean somehow seriously Bad was on the scene. But Richie didn’t run a gossip blog, and he would never post something he didn’t have any proof on. Not even something as huge as a potential Professor Fly comeback.

Spotted! Just a little recap of last night’s busy activities in the city that never sleeps: Dr Incredible bringing a bank robbery to a skidding halt, making sure all our favourite rich bitches and Wall Street moneybags have their millions safe for another day! Thanks, dude! And OF COURSE, the adorable and flawless Captain Fast saving an entire family from certain doom, and looking absolutely mouth watering in that spandex as always while doing it. Keep it up, babe. The public loves you :*

“RICHIE!”

Richie hardly reacted as the apartment door busted open and Eddie Kaspbrak stormed into the living room. His hair was damp, flattened to his forehead from the rain outside. The same rain that had left stains all over his grey NYU shirt and blue jeans. His fists were tightened at his sides, and he looked absolutely adorable.

“How can I be of service, dear Edward?” Richie asked, punching at the buttons of his xBox controller. Eddie stomped forward and grabbed it from his hands, tossing it across the room. “Hey! What the fuck?”

“You can’t fucking flirt with me on your stupid blog!” Eddie cried, running his hands through his hair. “Okay? People are gonna… they could figure out who you are if you keep doing that!”

Richie sat up straight on the couch. “Okay, do you know how little sense that makes, right? I make flirtatious comments about every hero I post about. Except Dr Incredible, I think guys a fucking sham.” Eddie rolled his eyes as Richie carried on over him. “And even if I did flirt with you more than the other heroes, they’d still need to know who you are to connect the dots to me. So take a breath. If you don’t want people commenting on your spandex, don’t wear it.”

“This isn’t about spandex.” Eddie said, though Richie could see that the anger he’d been wrapped up in when he’d come into the apartment was quickly seeping out of him. “This is about you. I don’t want you in danger, Richie.”

“You’ve made that beyond clear, Eds.” Richie stood and stretched his hands above his head. “It’s pretty much all I’ve heard from you.”

“Rich…” Eddie said sadly, but if there had been anything further to that sentence it evaporated right from Eddie’s mouth.

Eddie and Richie were diaper buddies, a real sandbox love. Richie couldn’t remember a point in his life without Eddie in it. They’d grown up inseparable, and Richie still remembered vividly when they’re relationship had begun to grow into something more. Junior year of high school, when Richie finally, finally found the nerve to ask Eddie out on an official date. And the next couple weeks after that were bliss in a way that Richie had never known. Until suddenly, Eddie had started blowing him off. Cancelling dates, and dodging Richie’s calls. When Richie had moved to confront Eddie about his behaviour, to beg him to at least end it and not keep him hanging on, Richie had learned the truth of Eddie’s powers. Apparently, it ran in his family and his mother had tried her hardest to keep it from Eddie, in desperate hopes that Eddie would be different but the powers can come nonetheless. Some smaller ones- a heightened sense of touch, and an acute sense of knowledge of a person or object by touch which Richie lovingly called his Vibe Checks- and of course, his speed. Eddie had always been a fast runner, ever since they were kids, and he had been shaping up to be a big track star before the Powers had appeared to him. Afterwards, however, Eddie could run the length of the entirety of the country in mere seconds.

They’d stayed up together that whole night, talking and crying and kissing, and they’d felt so good about everything. Richie thought having a superhero boyfriend was maybe the coolest thing that could ever happen to anybody, even if he wasn’t allowed to tell another living being. While still living in Derry, things hadn’t been so different with Eddie having powers. Things really changed when they moved out to New York City. Richie had always known Eddie was a good person, the best person, but he’d never accounted for how Eddie’s powers would come into play when they were suddenly in a city with other Supers and a sky high crime rate.

They’d tried to make it work, Richie beyond supportive in Eddie’s crime fighting causes. (Hello, superhero boyfriend? Still the coolest shit ever!) but one misstep, one single incident where Richie’s safety had been put on the line, and Eddie had stopped them in their tracks. It hadn’t even been because of Eddie’s identity, Richie had been in a strictly wrong place wrong time sort of situation but Eddie had lost it. Claimed that their relationship was a liability for Eddie, that Richie was Eddie’s biggest weakness and that Eddie couldn’t risk Richie’s safety like that. Richie had argued tooth and nail, claiming that breaking up didn’t mean that they weren’t in love and that Eddie shouldn’t be giving up his personal life for these powers but it had fallen on deaf ears. Eddie had packed up his belongings and left their shared apartment. They’d tried to stay friends, but the love between them kept things strained.

Richie padded into the kitchen and grabbed a can of pop from the fridge. He offered one up to Eddie, who shook his head as Richie knew that he would. He hopped up onto one of the seats on the counter and stared Eddie down. Eddie leaned forward on his elbows.

“We can’t keep having this same argument, Richie.” Eddie said in his prim and rehearsed voice. “It’s not because I don’t love you-”

Richie squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head quickly. “God, you just said we can’t keep this argument. I don’t need to hear this fucking speech again. You gave it to me when we broke up, you gave it to me six months ago on my birthday after we got drunk and-” Richie broke off and exhaled hard. “I’m sorry I talked about your spandex on my blog, I’ll try to tone down the flirting when I talk about you.”

“No.” Eddie sighed, resting his chin in his hands. “I overreacted. You didn’t say anything you wouldn’t have said about anybody else on there. And you’re right, people would need to know who I am to connect you to me. And nobody knows who either of us are.”

Richie blew out a long breath, flicking his thumb against the tab of his pop can. “Actually, Eds… somebody might know who I am. So, yeah, I should be more careful when talking about you on there. You’re the one who was right as usual.”

Eddie’s mouth dropped open and he pushed away from the table to round on Richie. He grabbed him by his shoulders and forced Richie to meet his gaze. “Richie. What are you talking about.”

“I’m not really sure, honestly, it was weird.” Richie ducked out of Eddie’s touch, frowning as the memory of his class that morning washed back over him. “It was some.. Guy in my theory of screenwriting lecture? He just sat down beside me and he addressed me by name and then asked if I was the one who wrote Spotted!. I told him I wasn’t, because you and Bev are both always on my ass about keeping it a secret, and then he told me…”

Richie stopped and looked up at Eddie. Eddie stared back at him, holding Richie’s eye line longer than he had in the two years since they’d called an end to their romantic relationship. “What, Rich? What did he say?”

“He said that Professor Fly would be making an appearance tonight.”

Eddie’s expression remained blank for several moments before the usual chaotic energy took him back over. “Why would he say that? How does he know that? How does he know you? There’s no way that’s true, nobody has heard anything from Professor Fly for almost three years. Not even FlyBoy knows where he is, he’s retired. There’s nothing he’d come back for, not unless it was the end of the world big. Is this the end of the world big? Richie?”

“I don’t know, Eds. He didn’t give me an itinerary for the night's events.” Richie said. “I think he just wanted me to post it on my blog like I’m some sort of gossip column. It’s not a big deal.” But Eddie didn’t look convinced and Richie could practically hear the little hamster wheel in his head running. “Unless you know something that’s going to happen tonight?”

“No.” Eddie said immediately, shaking his head. “I haven’t heard anything besides minor crimes and car accidents the last couple weeks. It’s been… almost too calm. I don’t like the sound of this guy, Richie, and I definitely don’t like what he’s suggesting. I’m gonna- I’m gonna talk to some people. Don’t leave this apartment and don’t post on Spotted! until I get back.”

“You’re not my boss!” Richie cried as Eddie tore out of his apartment like a tornado.

Eddie returned quickly, as Eddie was prone to do. He stumbled into the apartment as dusk began to settle outside, a tray of coffees in his hands. “Okay, we only have a few hours to figure this out.”

Beverly had been just getting into the apartment when Eddie had come in and nearly crushed her behind the door. She frowned as Eddie handed her one of the steaming paper cups and somebody came into the apartment behind him.

“Stan from Starbucks?” Richie asked with a frown, watching as Stan and another tall, black man he didn’t recognize came into his apartment. “Eds, I get you wanted coffee or whatever but you don’t need to bring the store back with you.”

Stan placed the only non-hot beverage down onto the counter. “I’m going to tell you something, and you need to promise not to be weird about it.” Richie stared at Stan with his drink raised half way up to his lips, and Stan let out a low sigh. “I’m FlyBoy.”

Richie whipped around to glare at Eddie, pointing an accusing finger at his chest. “FlyBoy has been Stan from Starbucks this entire fucking time, and you didn’t think to tell me that?”

“It isn’t exactly my secret to tell anybody.” Eddie said with a chill to his voice. “And honestly, even if I could have told you, I wouldn’t have. You have a weird crush on him and the last thing we need is you running off and getting some high stress relationship with a superhero.”

A superhero who isn’t me. Eddie maybe didn’t say it, maybe wasn’t even aware that he’d implied the words at all, but Richie heard them perfectly clear. Richie scoffed, dropping his drink onto the counter and stepping away from the group just slightly. “You don’t really get any say in who I do or don’t like, Eddie. It’s actually none of your business at all.”

“It is if it’s something that’s going to put you in danger, Richie!” Eddie snapped back, hand cutting through the air. A manic gesture of Eddie’s that Richie usually found cute, but could only manage to find irritating in this moment. “You put yourself in harms way enough with this stupid blog and just even knowing me, I would never let you-”

“Let me? Let me?” Richie chuckled humorlessly. “You are not the boss of me, Eddie. You’re not my parents, you’re my boyfriend. So, thank you very much for all the over the top concern about whether or not I’m getting myself into trouble but I’m going to have to politely tell you to mind your fucking business for once in your life.”

Eddie gaped at him, almost forming words before losing them again. The black man who had come into the apartment with Eddie and Stan cleared his throat. “I’m sorry but this seems like a pretty serious personal issue, and we have something important we need to handle, so...”

“Yes.” Eddie said, voice cracking. Richie glanced at him and tried not to let the hint of tears that were pooling in Eddie’s eyes. “Richie, this is Mike Hanlon. You probably know him as-”

“Freezie.” Mike held his hand out and Richie only hesitated for a moment before Mike laughed. “Don’t worry, man. I have to actually want to turn you into ice for it to happen. Though I do have some horror stories when I first started developing my powers, I’m not gonna lie.”

“Mr Medusa.” Richie said with a grin, gripping Mike’s hand firmly and giving a body moving shake. Mike gave a laugh while both Stan and Eddie rolled his eyes at his antics.

“You know how misleading that nickname is, right?” Stan asked dryly. “Mike turns people to ice with his hands, Medusa turned people to stone by looking at them and her head full of snakes. It’s really not even that close of a comparison, it just implies you don’t know anything about Greeky mythology.”

“Excuse me, I’m a gay Gen Z. Of course I fucking know Greek mythology. I read Percy Jackson.” Richie said with a wave of his hand. Stan gaped at him for a moment before Eddie blew the wrapper from Richie’s straw at Richie’s head.

“He’s also a fucking Ancient Civilization minor.” Eddie said in a mixture of fondness and irritation. “Don’t let him fool you with his stupidity, he’s actually incredibly smart.”

“Okay, yeah, this is great.” Beverly spoke up suddenly, dropping her shopping bags onto the kitchen counter. “But do you guys wanna tell me what the hell is going on exactly?”

“Yes, I’d like to know, too.” Stan said, taking a seat at the small, banged up wooden table. “Eddie didn’t exactly give much details as he was superhero sprinting around the Starbucks and making like $30 worth of product he didn't pay for.”

Eddie waved Stan off. “We might be in for a long night.” He said, dropping into the seat beside Stan. Mike and Beverly both moved to take the last two seats around the table and Richie jumped up to sit on top of the table between Eddie and Stan. He maybe positioned himself a little bit closer to Stan, just to watch Eddie’s jaw clench.

“Richie, why don’t you tell everybody what you told me earlier.” Eddie said in his very best teacher voice.

Richie sighed. “I still think you’re making too big a deal out of this, Eds, really. But basically some guy came up to me in class today, and accused me of running the Spotted! Blog and then told me that Professor Fly is going to come back tonight.”

Stan’s head jerked to look at Richie, eyes wide. “That’s impossible. Who told you this?”

Richie shrugged. “I don’t man, some weirdo. Think he said his name was Bill?”

Beverly startled at her seat, knocking one of the coffees to the ground. Everybody turned to look at her and her face had lost nearly all colour. “Uh… did he have a scar running through his eyebrow?”

“Yeah… how do you know that?”

Beverly scratched at the side of her neck. “I went on a few dates with him last semester, he's a weird dude. I wouldn’t read too much into this, I’m sure he’s just trying to stir up drama. His brother died when he was young, and he never really got over it.”

A shoulder crossed over Stan’s face and he sighed sadly. “Georgie Denbrough. That was…. A tragedy.”

Mike and Eddie made matching sympathetic sounds and Richie pulse jumped. “Okay, you all clearly know what the fuck is going on, from your super secret like Justice League meetings or something, but anybody want to catch me up? Who is Georgie Denbrough and what happened to him?”

“Georgie Denbrough was Professor Fly’s biggest shame. His failure as a hero.” Stan said, voice almost completely monotone. “It was just before he started training me to take over for him, I’ve always suspected it was the reason why he was choosing to retire. The Professor was trying to save a group of children from a predator and somehow the battle got really intense. The predator had powers that The Professor hadn’t anticipated, and The Professor’s powers back fired when he tried to catch the man. It caused the building to explode. Most of the children were okay, scrapes and bruises, maybe a broken bone or so, but Georgie Denbrough… He lost an arm in the explosion and he bled out before help could arrive. The boy died and the villain got away. He never really recovered from it.”

“Neither did Bill Denbrough,” Beverly jumped in. “When we were going out, it was pretty much all he talked about. How Professor Fly killed his little brother and ruined Bill’s life. He hates superheroes because of it. He probably doesn't know shit, but at least suspects that Richie knows some heroes and will tell them what he said. It’s a set up.”

Stan nodded. “There’s no way The Professor is going to be out tonight. Nothing would pull him out of retirement, trust me.”

Eddie rubbed his hands together. “Maybe.” He said shortly. “But we don’t know that it’s a trap for us. It’s possible this Bill guy has something planned tonight to try and bring Professor Fly out. We can’t risk people getting hurt because we don’t know what this guy's plan is. I think we should have all hands on deck tonight if we can.”

“Eddie’s right.” Mike said. “Even if it is a trap for us, we agreed to this sort of risk when we started acting as heroes. We knew what we were getting into, we can’t just sit around and do nothing when lives are at risk. Best case scenario, this Bill guy is full of shit and just running his mouth and nothing happens but we need to prepare for the worst.”

“I can’t imagine him going so far out of his way to figure out who’s running that blog just for it to be nothing.” Stan said quietly.

“Maybe that’s part of the plan,” Richie jumped in. “He wanted me to post about Professor Fly’s return, probably to lure out people and heroes to whatever it was he was going to do. Maybe if I don’t post it then he’ll just drop the whole thing because he’s not getting the audience that he wants.”

“You should post it.” Beverly said suddenly, using some of the shitty dollar store dish cloths to wipe up the spilled coffee all over the floor. A large round of disagreement spread out amongst the heroes until Bev held her hand up for quiet. “I might not know much about this whole superhero world, or whatever, but how are you supposed to catch this guy if he doesn’t go through with his plan? You can’t exactly go after somebody for figuring out that Richie is caught up with superheroes.”

Eddie muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like “I can fucking try” but none of the heroes had any sort of argument against Beverly’s claims.

“Spotted! Isn't a gossip column!” Richie cried, tossing his hands in the air, nearly taking Stan’s eye out. “I’m not posting some unfounded bullshit about Professor Fly and killing my brand for this Bill dude’s fucking vandetta.”

“Your blog’s brand is more important to you than saving lives?” Mike asked, giving Richie big, sad puppy eyes.

“We don’t know it’ll save lives!” Richie argued. “For all we know, sending out a blast could be what gets people killed. If you think we should all go out and keep on eye on stuff, then fine but-”

“Whoa, whoa!” Eddie cut him off quickly. “What do you mean we? You’re not coming with us if we go out there, Richie. You and Bev aren’t leaving this apartment tonight, you could be a target!”

“YOU’RE NOT MY BOSS!” Richie leapt off the table and stalked away from Eddie, hands trembling at his sides. “I’m so sick of you telling me what I can and can’t do! You can’t control me, Eddie.”

Eddie’s head jerked back as though it had been slapped, and a wounded look crossed his face that Richie wouldn’t let himself feel bad about. “I’m not trying to control you, Richard. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Oh, really?” Richie laughed. “So, you making a point not to tell me you knew who FlyBoy was when you were under the impression I might have a crush on him wasn’t you keeping me safe, and not at all you not wanting me to date somebody that isn’t you.”

Eddie stood up and walked around to where Richie was standing angrily behind the counter. He didn’t touch him but his hands hovered just above Richie’s arms. “I didn’t tell you who FlyBoy was because it's a secret identity for a reason. It’s not like it was really my place to SAY anything to you about it, alright? You can date whoever the fuck you want, obviously, because I didn’t stop you from going on those dates with Connor Whathisfuck last year and I hated that guy so much it actually burned my soul. I want you to be happy, okay? I’d never stop you from dating somebody. Stan is right there if you wanna go ask him out right now, you pleeb.”

Richie glanced over Eddie’s shoulders at where the people around the table were all staring at them. Stan wrinkled up his nose. “Please don’t.”

Richie rolled his eyes and snorted. “Don’t worry, Stan my Man. If I’d known FlyBoy was somebody as boring as you, I wouldn’t have dedicated so much time to him in the first place.”

Richie tried to ignore Eddie’s relieved sigh in his ear.

Eddie didn’t budge on his statement that Richie and Beverly would be staying behind at their apartment, as Richie didn’t budge his refusal to post false information on this blog. “If you want me to make some sort of announcement, it has to be something true. That’s just how it is.”

“You could post about seeing the three of us teaming up.” Mike suggested as Richie was really just focusing on not looking at his bare chest as he changed into his suit. “That will be enough to get the public's attention and let this Bill Denbrough know we’re taking him seriously without having to leak false information about Professor Fly.”

Richie nodded in agreement as Eddie padded over him to his little tight red spandex supersuit. Richie’s breath caught as it always did when he saw Eddie as Captain Fast. “Don’t say anything until you’re sure we’re a decent way away from the apartment. Just because somebody figured out that you run the blog doesn’t mean that we should be leading towards the place you live. Play it safe, Rich.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Richie waved it off, but they both knew at the end of the day even as much as Richie fought it, he was going to follow Eddie’s advice. As the group moved towards the front door, Eddie suddenly spun around and grabbed hold of Richie’s waist. He tugged him into a tight hug, pressing his face against Richie’s shoulder.

“Please, please, be careful, Rich.” Eddie whispered into Richie’s body. “I have a really bad feeling.”

“Yeah, Eds. I’ll be careful.” Richie squeezed Eddie tightly until the other man pulled back. There was a split second where Richie was certain that Eddie was about to lean in for a kiss. The moment broke as Eddie’s cheeks turned pink and he looked away. He pulled the matching red mask over his eyes and followed the rest of Mike and Stan from the apartment.

Richie wallowed in his poor, confused little gay heart for roughly ten minutes before he took out his phone and sent out the blast.

Spotted! What must be the coolest new trio in NYC: FlyBoy, Captain Fast and Freezie heading out on the town. Is this just a (super)mans night out- or is something much more sinister in the works for not so little city? I think we can all only wait and see. This blogger advises his readers to stay home tonight, and keep an eye on the news and little old me for your updates.

Richie didn’t even have a chance to put his phone back into his pocket before Beverly was stomping into the room and tossing a black hoodie over his head. He pulled it away and caught sight of Beverly with her red hair tied up in a long red, curly ponytail. She wore black jeans and black tank top that showed off a black triangle tattoo on her left arm. She raised her brow and nodded at him. “Hurry up, get into something dark and let’s go.”

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo.” Richie said slowly.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” Beverly said. “Now hurry up and let's go. We have stuff we have to do.”

“I told Eddie I was gonna stay in the apartment.” Richie said, fidgeting with the fabric of the hoodie in his hands. “I think we-”

“I thought Eddie wasn’t the boss of you.” Beverly said, cocking her brow. Richie’s face burned as he tugged the plain back sweater over his head and put his feet back into messy converse sneakers. Beverly was already halfway down the hallway before Richie was even out of the apartment’s door. When they exited the stairway into the lobby, there was a man waiting there in matching all black outfit with the same triangle tattoo on his left arm. He had thick muscled arms, but chubby cheeks and wide eyes that seemed to still hold onto some sort of childhood innocence.

Beverly pressed a quick kiss to his lips and Richie blinked. I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. The words died on Richie’s tongue as a weird feeling overcame him in that moment. “Richie, this is Ben. Ben, Richie.”

Ben held his hand out and Ben’s shake was warm and firm. Somehow Richie felt like his skin was crawling as Beverly pressed her hands between Richie’s shoulder blades and began to push him out towards the front of the building.

“I uh” Richie cleared his throat, heart hammering in his chest. “Where are we going? Eddie’s probably right that we should stay inside, we don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“Don’t be such a chicken shit.” Beverly grinned at him, and Richie shivered as a chill rushed through his spine. “Aren’t you at all curious about what might be going on? Come on, it’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re actually a target for anything. Denbrough was probably just trying to use you for your site.”

Immediately, Richie had been curious- almost morbidly so. Until this very moment when all he wanted to do was run back to his apartment and spend the rest of the night hiding under his blankets. But Richie Tozier had never been very good at trusting himself or any of his instincts, and he allowed Beverly and Ben to guide him into the black car parked out front.

Then didn’t drive far, and pulled up to some sort of abandoned warehouse. Every couple of seconds there was a flash of light from inside the cracked and shattered glass windows. Richie’s breath started catching in his throat with every attempt to breathe. “What- where are we?”

Beverly turned to where Richie was trying to fade into the back seat of the car, and looked almost sad. “I’m sorry, Rich. It wasn’t supposed to go this way.”

xxx

Eddie actually hated wearing spandex, but it was an incredibly durable fabric. With the amount of moving he did, it was the most logical choice in costume. But Eddie was never truly comfortable when in costume.

“If I ask you something, could you answer without getting bitchy?” Stan suddenly whispered in his ear. He, Mike and Eddie had only reached the main core of the Lower West Side. Eddie turned to him and narrowed his eyes as best as he could home to do with a mask covering half his face. “Do you ever think of giving it up? Hanging up your suit and just being a normal person. Letting yourself really love Richie?”

Eddie’s face burned nearly the colour of the suit. He spent the better part of the last two years trying not to think about how he was in love with Richie Tozier and in the last three years, it was the only thing at the front of his mind. “I try not to think about it, honestly, because it’s not an option. I didn’t choose to have these powers, or this life. But as long as I have them, I have to do the right thing. I don’t have a choice.”

“I don’t know.” Stan said slowly. “I think you should be able to do what’s best for you. You deserve to be happy.”

“I’m happy enough.” Eddie lied. “Do you think we should split up and cover more ground?”

“Yeah.” Mike jumped in as the conversation changed back into the professional task at hand. “Especially since we don’t really know what the situation is, so keep your ear pieces in and buzz into the others if you come across anything.”

“Alright,” Stan agreed, though he shot Eddie a this isn’t over look from the corner of his eye. “Eddie and I have a much easier way to travel, so Mike you can stay in this area.” Stan and Eddie agreed on their own sections of the general NYU area- the area that had always been protected by Professor Fly in the height of his career- and Eddie took off running. Eddie had always loved running, and it was the only part of being a hero that he still enjoyed. Sometimes, on nights when Eddie just couldn’t be bothered to care, he’d just run for miles. Just see how far he could go. He’d reached the Canadian border once before he decided it was a waste of his gift.

Eddie slowed down into a simple walk once he reached his section of town, when somebody reached out and grabbed hold of Eddie’s arm. Eddie gasped at the feeling of utter desperation that sort through him belonging to the person who touched him. A pair of icy blue eyes under a scarred eyebrow met Eddie’s and Eddie’s heart leapt right into his mouth.

“What are you doing here?” Bill Denbrough demanded. “You’re not supposed to be here! Didn’t Richie tell you about my warning?”

“Your- your warning?” Eddie squawked. “So, you tracking him down and telling him some bogus tip about Professor Fly was supposed to be a warning? A warning of what- that you’re insane?”

Denbrough shook his head, brown hair falling into his head. “No. No.” He said desperately, nails digging into Eddie’s skin. “Professor Fly would never return, FlyBoy would know that. Didn’t you tell FlyBoy? It’s a trap, you were all supposed to stay home! You’re all in danger!”

Eddie tried to pull his arm free but Denbrough’s grip was too tight. “You’re hurting me!” Eddie cried, chest starting to feel the too familiar pressure of an asthma attack- though he hadn’t one a single one since his powers had come in.

“I k-k-know you have more powers than just sp-speed.” Denbrough said, stepping even further into Eddie’s space and grabbing hold of his other arm. “You can s-s-sense me, r-right? You’ll no-no-know if I’m d-dan-dangerous!”

Eddie felt a lot of things about Bill Denbrough. Guilt, fear, desperation. There was something bleak and sad under the surface but there was no hint of a threat to him. “What do you want?” Eddie asked in a shaking voice.

Bill Denbrough’s eyes darted around Eddie. “Where’s R-R-Richie? Is he w-w-ith you? Where is h-he?”

“He’s safe.” Eddie promised even as his own heart stuttered and panicked. “He’s back at his apartment with his roommate, they’re both-”

Bill’s eyes widened in horror. “NO! No, you can’t t-t-t-t-fuck- trust Beverly! She’s n-n-not who you think she is!”

Eddie started shaking his head. “No offence, but I’ve known Beverly for a year and I’ve only known you five minutes and you seem pretty unhinged. Why should I believe you when you say I can’t trust her, if I have no reason to trust you?”

“Have you ever tou-tou-touched her?” Bill demanded. “In the yuh-year you’ve known her, ha-have your body ev-ever even graze-grazed hers?” Eddie opened his mouth but froze. “No. It ha-hasn’t. I know it ha-hasn’t, be-because she knows if you ha-had ever tou-touched her, you’d kn-know the truth about her. And everything would have been ru-ruined.”

Eddie shook his head. “What’s she going to do to him?”

Bill frowned. “This wuh-wuh-wasn’t the plu-plan. I don’t- there’s only one place s-sh-she’d take him. But you have to tr-tr-trust me.”

It wasn’t in Eddie’s nature to be particularly trusting, and Bill wasn’t exactly somebody who was inspiring much benefit of the doubt. But his hands were still digging into Eddie’s arms and the only thing Eddie could sense was fear and deeper down- guilt that Eddie suspected he felt at all times. “Okay.” Eddie said, and as Bill let go of him, Eddie flicked on this ear piece’s speaker.

Bill didn’t lead Eddie too far away, the pair of them travelling in silence and Eddie secretly wishing that Bill would simply tell him where the location was so Eddie could run there. If something happened to Richie while Eddie was wasting his time walking, he’d never forgive himself. Eventually, Bill led him over to the warehouse with lights that flashed through broken windows. He could make out figures walking around inside as he and Bill attempted to sneak into the warehouse without being noticed.

There was a large glass sphere in the middle of the room, surrounded by what looked like burn white lightning that occasionally sparked brighter and caused the room to brighten as though large fluorescent lights flicked on overhead. Richie was seated a few feet away on the floor, bound against a large cement pillar that connected all the way up to the ceiling. He appeared unharmed, if not mildly annoyed. Eddie’s heart raced all the same Beverly and a man Eddie didn’t recognize both paced around the same space.

“Billy…” Beverly came to a full stand still. Bill froze at Eddie’s side. “There’s no need to sneak around. Come out, we have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

Bill pressed a single finger against his lips, before turning and stepping out of the shadows. “You’re m-may-making a big m-m-mistake, Beverly. He’s n-n-n-not who he says he is.”

“I think you’re the one who’s not who he says he is.” Beverly said, turning around and facing Bill with her arms crossed. “Going behind our backs and telling Richie some crap about Professor Fly? Bringing your existence to his attention? You forced our hand, Billy. Mr Scratch isn’t going to be pleased.”

“He-He’s not guh-good, Bev!” Bill cried, hands clutched at his side. “What do you th-th-think he’s going to do with it wuh-wuh-when he gets it? He-He’s puh-playing you both!”

“He is not!” Beverly cried. “He’s going to do exactly what told us! Why did you have to go and fuck up the plan?”

“Excuse me!” Richie cried, voice dripping with sarcasm. “But if I’m going to be killed, can you guys at least do me the decency of letting me know what you’re talking about in my final moments.”

“You’re not going to die.” Beverly’s male friend said softly. “Nobody is going to get hurt.”

“You’re a fuh-fool if you buh-believe that, Ben!” Bill said, taking steps closer into the room. “Richie, this mach-machine has the ab-ability tr-train a super-superhero of their p-p-powers. Mr Scr-scratch hates heroes and he-”

“Like you’re any better!” Beverly shouted over Bill’s explanation. “You’ve been with him longer than either of us! Heroes killed your brother, you hate them just as much as the rest of us. Maybe ever more! They ruined all our lives!” Beverly turned towards Richie and took a few steps towards him. “I lost my parents when I was little. My father was an awful man, he chased my mother away when I was only six. He died when I was 11, and my aunt took me in. For two years, I experienced happiness for the first time. I loved my aunt and she loved me, took care of me for the first time since I could remember anything. She was a good person, and superheroes came and ripped my only true family apart. My aunt took into selling drugs after she adopted me, just to get ends to meet. She wasn’t proud of it, but she did what she had to do for me. She was smart, she never would have been caught if the superheroes minded their own business and let police handle things. A bunch of hyped up vigilanties took my aunt away from me, and I went into foster care. I was only 13. When I was 17, Mr Scratch found me. Told me there were others like me, who wanted to even the playing field.”

“By killing all the superheroes?” Richie asked, voice breaking. “Beverly, you have to admit that sounds fucking insane!”

“It isn’t going to kill them.” Ben added. “The Deadlight doesn’t kill them, it only drains them of their supernatural abilities. Makes them human, normal. Just like everybody else.”

Richie scoffed, in higher octaves than regular voices. “And then what happens to their powers? They just what? Evaporate?”

“They’ll be trapped in the Deadlight.” Ben answered. “Forever. No more superheroes.”

“You’re an i-idiot.” Bill said coldly. “Sc-Scratch is obviously going to tuh-take the powers! Guh-get rid of the sue-supers and make himself invisible. Undefeatable.”

“You’re full of shit.” Beverly snapped. “He wouldn’t do that! We’re not evil, or some fucking supervillain cult! All we want in equality! We’d never use any of these powers against anybody!”

“You two wouldn’t.” Bill said darkly. “I’ve wuh-wuh-wondered if he was really who he suh-said he was for- a luh-long time. But I suh-saw plans in his uh-office. About how to ruh-ruh-reverse the Deadlights. He’s guh-gonna take the puh-powers for him-himself.”

“You’re a fucking liar!” Beverly screamed. “He wouldn’t do that! He-”

A suddenly crashing brought Beverly’s screams to a halt. The doors busted open and Stan dropped in, with Mike leaping off his back. Beverly took a step backwards, eyes open wide and Ben moved over to stand almost directly in front of Richie.

“Where’s Eddie?” Mike demanded, glancing around the room. Eddie cringed and slapped a hand over his forehead, as Beverly and Ben exchanged a shocked expression. Richie looked around wildly, with huge, terrified eyes.

Beverly crossed her arms and looked back to the same shadows that Bill had appeared from. “Okay, Eds. You can come out.”

“Don’t call me that.” Eddie said sharply as he stepped out as well.

“Eddie…” Richie said a quiet, almost broken voice. Eddie tried to give him a reassuring look, but he knew that Richie would be able to see his own fear underneath the attempt.

Beverly sighed and rolled her eyes. “Alright, this isn’t exactly how I planned on tonight going, though I have to say I did expect to see you all here after I took Richie.”

“Let him go.” Eddie said furiously. “He doesn’t have powers, he isn’t part of this. Let him go.”

Beverly smiled sadly. “No can do, sorry. Richie is actually a key factor to this whole mission. Why do you think I’ve been so encouraging of his little blog? He’s a natural talent, and he’s been so helpful in our acquiring the true identities of these so-called heroes.”

Eddie glanced at Richie, who looked like he might be physically ill. All Eddie wanted to do was rush over and wrap Richie in his arms and keep him safe, but he couldn’t show that weakness in this moment.

“We found Richie through you, though, Eddie.” Beverly said, looking almost… amused. “We didn’t know who you were, but Richie was at most of your scenes and we figured that he knew you. It was Big Bill’s idea that one of befriend him, and figure out what he knows. Does it sting a little, knowing you gave your future with Richie to protect him but you lead us to him anyway?”

It more than stung, it burned. Eddie’s entire body felt like it was vibrating as he stood there, staring down at women he’d thought of as a friend for more than a year. A woman who’d been living under the same roof as Richie, but wanting only to use him and potentially cause him harm.

“Oh, Eddie, don’t look like that.” Beverly said, sounding almost genuinely upset. “I already said we aren't gonna hurt him. Nobody is going to get hurt, Bill is just- I don’t even know what he’s trying to do.”

“I’m trying to wa-warn you!” Bill cried. “You’re buh-bluh-blinded stupid but your own luh-loyalty that you cant’ see the uh-aub-obvious truth in fr-fruh-front of you!!”

“This was your cause!” Ben came quickly to Beverly’s defence. “You hate superheroes maybe more than anybody! How can you say this wasn’t what you wanted?”

Bill’s jaw clenched and his bottom lip trembled. “I… I wanted the h-her-heroes gone. But I duh-didn’t want anybody to guh-get their powers and uh-use them for them-themselves.”

“You’re the only person who's acting like that’s going to happen.” Ben snapped. Eddie thought this was his moment, the first time he’d been able to see a true path of entrance. Everybody’s eyes were torn between Bill and Ben, this could be Eddie’s chance to get over to Richie and free him. Eddie, maybe for the first time in his life, misjudged his position.

Beverly’s hands collided hard with Eddie’s chest, the strength of her anger and resentment hitting him hard and shocking him to his core. He understood now more than ever why Beverly hadn’t made the mistake of touching Eddie in the year they’ve known one another. He may not have felt any true evil inside her, like he had felt in many a foe before, and there was still a lingering of a sad, scared little girl at her core but none of the vibes she was giving to him at this moment was reassuring. He would have kept her far away from Richie, he would have figured out enough about her, and this plan would never have worked.

Beverly taking Eddie by utter surprise had given her even more of an advantage. He knocked Eddie backwards and he stumbled backwards, crashing directly into the Deadlight. An electric charge drove through every nerve in his body and he was thrown across the empty warehouse by a bolt of white lightning. He heard Richie scream his name, but it was like a buzzing deep in the back of his mind.

The harsh impact to the hard ground jarred Eddie back into himself, though a small bit dazed. He’d landed not far from where Richie was tied up. He shuffled backwards, groaning as the oddest sensation of discomfort shot through his body, but he didn’t stop until he could rest his head against Richie’s knee.

“Holy shit, Eds!” Richie gasped, fighting against his bindings even as it shook Eddie’s resting head. “How the fuck are you alive right now? You just got yeeted across the room by lightning!”

Eddie grumbled as he reached blindly behind their bodies to untie Richie’s bondings. It must have been a testament to how shocking the last few moments had been as nobody attempted to stop them. Richie winced and rubbed at his hands for a moment before reaching out and cupping Eddie’s face. Eddie smiled as his eyes flushed shut and he leaned into the touch.

“Are you okay?” Richie said in a low voice. It wasn’t quite a whisper, Richie never actually whispered, but it was soft and worried and so full of love that Eddie felt he might cry.

“Yeah.” Eddie said back. “I’m okay. Promise promise.”

Richie’s face broke into a relieved grin and pressed a hard kiss to Eddie’s voice. Maybe it had been the actual bolt of lightning that had just gone through Eddie’s body, but it felt so charged that Eddie even let out a small gasp. Then it all hit him and his eyes blew open wide. “Richie, I can’t feel you.”

“What? You can’t feel anything?” Richie asked in a panic.

“No!” Eddie cried, shifting to sit up properly and grabbing Richie’s hands to tangle them together. “I can’t feel your spirit, your mood. It’s like… before.”

Richie and Eddie turned in unison to look at the Deadlight. The others all turned to follow their lead. It seemed to be glowing brighter, the lightning revolving around it faster. Eddie’s powers now fueling it.

“Holy shit.” Mike said at the same time Beverly gasped. “It works.”

“Of course it works,” a deep voice came as a man in a long black cloak appeared out of nowhere. “You doubted me, Beverly? Thank you, you’ve all played your roles perfectly.” Bill startled as the man- Mr Scratch- turned to him and grinned. “Oh yes, even you Dear Bill. I always knew that your moral compass would bring you to betray me. I accounted for the variable since the beginning of our time together.”

As Mr Scratch moved around the circle, Beverly stepped out of his way as though she didn’t even notice she was doing it. She collided with Bill’s torso, and the man reached out to grab at her hand. She didn’t pull away from the touch, pale and shaking as she watched Mr Scratch rounded on the group.

“Stanley.” Mr Scratch said in a slow voice, grin spreading across his face. Stan was standing still as a statue, fists tightened even as tears filled his eyes. “You know who I am already, I can see it all over your face. Well, I never doubted your intelligence. Go ahead and tell them, there’s no need to keep it a secret amongst old friends.”

“Robert Gray.” Stan said through a clenched jaw. A single tear slipped from his ear and trailed down his cheek. “Professor Fly.”

Richie gasped and squeezed Eddie’s hand tightener. Ben stumbled away and crashed into the cement pillar that Richie had just been tied up against. Mike looked at Stan in shock as Beverly slapped a hand over her mouth. Bill pushed past her, rage evident as his face. “YOU MOTHERFUCKER-”

Gray barely even flicked his wrist and Bill soared off his feet and slammed up against a pillar, easily twenty feet off the ground. “Stupid boy.” Gray said fondly. “You will never be a match for me, and you’ll never outsmart me. I have been planning this moment for nearly a decade. Your brother’s death started a fire that will destroy the entire world of supers as we know it.”

Bill struggled against the invisible hold Gray had against him, Richie turning his head away from the scene and pressing his face against Eddie’s neck. Eddie could feel how Richie’s hands were shaking where they were connected.

“None of you are giving me enough credit.” Gray said in a bored tone. “Do you have any idea how much work I had to put into this entire thing? I didn’t just have to create the Deadlights, I had to hand pick every single person who would help me. Bill was a no brainer, even as I knew I could never trust him fully. Beverly and Ben had to be vulnerable enough that they would never question me, and that Bill would never feel confident in telling them what he’d figured out.”

“You left the pl-pl-pla-”

“Yes.” Gray interrupted. “I left the plans out on purpose. Haven’t you figured that I don’t leave anything to chance, William? I accounted for every possible outcome. I had to choose Stan very carefully, choose an heir that would follow my orders but never question me when I told him I could not be contacted after I retire. That I would simply never return.”

Stan turned away bitterly, trying to wipe at the tears on his as inconspicuously as he possibly could.

“Even after that, I had to pull so many strings. Made sure that Richie and Stan would cross paths, had to let Beverly believe that Richie’s silly little blog was her idea to let them both feel important.” He shot Eddie a slimey grin. “Had to make sure that Richie got caught in that hostage situation just after they moved to NYC so Eddie wouldn’t consider their relationship worth Richie’s life and end things, so there would be space for Beverly to make her move on Richie. I will admit I was hoping that Richie would fall in love with her, but I underestimated his love for Eddie. A small loss, but nothing damaging to the overall scheme.”

Eddie’s body thrummed with rage. Richie had nightmares for a year after that fucking bank heist, and this man had done that to them on purprose for the simply purpose of breaking them up? Richie still had panic attacks and made Eddie or Bev go with him if he needed to do any sort of banking he couldn’t do online.

“You said nobody was going to be hurt.” Beverly said, tears streaming down her face. “You said- you said you wanted to even the playing field! You’re a monster!”

“Nobody will be hurt.” Gray said. “You will all be free to go, once all the supers have touched the Deadlight and given up their powers. You’ll all be able to go on with your lives, and I will be able to go on with mine. Once your powers are gone, you’ll have no reason to oppose me and I will have no reason to bother you again.”

Beverly and Ben stood directly in front of the Deadlight, the pain on their faces from the flashing bursts of lightning behind them. Stan was staring directly at Gray, face a mask of rage even as tears fell from his eyes. Richie hadn’t moved from where he’d hidden himself against Eddie.

“You killed my brother on purpose.” Bill said from above them. He was still fighting against Gray’s grip.

For the first time, Gray’s composure slipped. “No.” He said shortly. “That was a tragic accident. That moment changed me forever. It was when I realized that all of those with powers, even myself, were capable of death and destruction. That we were all inherently evil. The day, I knew that I could not allow another person to hold such powers over another being again. You know, Billy- your brother is the reason for all of this. He gave his life for the new world order-”

Bill let out an intelligible scream but Gray could so much as speak, Mike Hanlon had launched himself from the crowd and latched himself onto Gray’s back. Eddie watched with mouth gape as Gray struggled against the hold before clear blue ice began to spread across his body in a matter of seconds. As the ice completely covered Gray, Bill began to free fall. Stan didn’t waste a single moment before launching up into the sky and catching Bill mid-fall and lowering them both to the ground. He let go of Bill as they touched down and rushed over to Eddie and Richie, one hand finding its way into Richie’s hair and the other falling on top of their joined hands.

“That’s the trick to villains.” Mike said, not even sounding out of breath. “You gotta get ‘em while they’re monologuing.”

Beverly, face hard, stepped forward and kicked at Gray’s frozen chest. He tittered and fell backwards, shattering into pieces as he hit the ground. “I think it’s safe to say he didn’t account for those variables.”

They were quiet for a long moment, Stan helping Richie and Eddie to their feet and holding onto them as they all moved towards the shattered ice pieces in the middle of the room. Even in the chilly night, they could see the beginning signs of melting.

“We nn-n-need to d-d-estory this fucking thing.” Bill said suddenly, all of them turning towards the Deadlight. Hums of agreement moved through the room.

“Wait.” Richie said, tightening his hold on Eddie’s waist. “You said that the powers could be taken out right? We need to get Eddie’s powers back!”

“Oh, yeah!” Bill said quickly. “I- I’ll s-s-see if I can find the instructions ag-again.”

Do you ever think of giving it up? Hanging up your suit and just being a normal person. Letting yourself really love Richie?

“Wait.” Eddie said, throwing out a hand. “Don’t. I don’t want them back.”

Every eye in the room turned to him, Stan smiling even as tears still hung in his eyes. “I never wanted them,” Eddie carried on. “I didn’t want to be some hero, saving people. I wanted to run track and fix cars and be with my love of my life.”

Richie turned slowly, eyes wide and painfully hopeful. “Eddie, don’t do this for shit for me. Please, okay, I-”

“I’m not doing it for you.” Eddie turned and slid his arms around Richie’s shoulders. “I’m doing it for me. I don’t need these bullshit powers. I can run perfectly fine with my own two normal feet, and I would love to be able to touch a person without knowing their moral count or pick up something in somebodys house without knowing if its fucking haunted or not.”

Richie chuckled wetly.

“And I love you so much.” Eddie continued. “And all I want is to be with you, it’s all I’ve ever wanted since the fucking sixth grade. I’m tired of loving each other and being forced apart and just hurting each other over and over. Especially over these stupid powers I was cursed with. I don’t want them back. I wanna be with you and I wanna be happy.”

Richie ducked down and pressed his lips against Eddie’s. This time Eddie knew the sparks that seemed to shoot through him was no lightning shot- just love.

Spotted! FlyBoy, Captain Fly and Freezie teaming up with three civilians and your truly to foil a truly evil plan, saving not just our city but possibly our entire world. (Eyewitnesses may claim that Freezie did all the work, but that remains to be proven.) And in case you missed it, there was an epic conclusion to an equally epic love story. You know what they say, all’s well that ends great… or however the saying goes!

#reddie #reddie fic #my writing #leigh #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak

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agentxthirteen · 5 years

Text

The “Sharon Carter Is Just A Love Interest” post (to cut & paste when necessary)

Ways in which Sharon is NOT just a love interest:

When we first meet Sharon, she’s an undercover agent directly across the hall from Steve. We don’t know how long she’s been there, or how well they know each other, but Steve feels comfortable badly flirting with her. We find out the next time we see her, when Fury’s been shot, that he assigned her to protect Steve. So we know she’s capable enough that Fury - Director of SHIELD - trusts her to protect him. The movie implies that she’s there to protect him from external threats, and that’s possible, too, but it’s also likely that she’s there to protect Steve from himself. Tie-in materials mention Steve’s depression and potential for suicide. Sharon is undercover as his neighbor instead of someone across the street (as Winter Soldier was) because she needed a reason to interrupt him if SHIELD or herself were ever seriously worried about his mental state. She could break his thought process.

It’s also important to note that Fury only warns Steve that “they’re” listening. It makes sense to have video - at least in some parts of the apartment - to make sure Steve isn’t hurting himself. But there aren’t any. Why? Probably because Sharon was across the hall. She didn’t just protect his mental state - she protected his privacy. She doesn’t say Fury assigned her to a team to protect him, he assigned her to protect him. It’s likely she’s the one who insisted on giving Steve as much privacy as possible.

Fury was assassinated by the Winter Soldier but lived 1) long enough to make it to surgery and 2) he’s still alive, actually. He says he did it with the help of a drug, but Sharon was the one who stayed with him after he was shot. Steve went in pursuit of Winter Soldier. Sharon stayed to keep Fury alive long enough for emergency services to get there.

When Steve goes in to talk to Pierce, he sees Sharon. Upset that she deceived him (Tony was a bit miffed when he found out Natasha had deceived him), he only greeted her with “Neighbor.” Instead of fawning over him or looking hurt or ashamed at doing her job to protect him, Sharon half-rolls her eyes and keeps walking.

Sharon is the only one to question why SHIELD is hunting down Captain America. She likely got into SHIELD because her aunt, Peggy, founded it, and she believed in its ideals. She’s the only one in the room not to blindly follow along with orders and question them instead.

Sharon is also the first one to pull a gun on Hydra. After the - at the time, nameless - tech refuses to comply with orders for Hydra and they pull a gun on him, Sharon gets over her shock at Hydra infiltrating SHIELD and goes to defend him. It’s only after she reacts that other SHIELD loyalists do, too. Maybe she isn’t a leader to them (although she is seen in a supervision role helping multiple tables instead of just her one), but her action is what galvanizes them to act. She takes on Rumlow - an elite member of one of SHIELD’s elite fighting forces - and not only does she survive, but if he hadn’t run behind bulletproof glass, she would have killed him.

Her final scene in Winter Soldier is when she joins the CIA. Does she join because that’s all she knows? Does she join because she’s hunting down Hydra on her own? Does she join because Fury asks her to? We don’t know. But we know from Agents of SHIELD that SHIELD agents are all considered terrorists after the Trisk falls until it’s proven otherwise. This scene shows, once again, that Sharon is a skilled marksman.

Time on screen: ~2 minutes, 30 seconds.

We next see her attending Peggy’s funeral. Given how many enemies Peggy likely had, this puts a huge target on Sharon’s back. She does it anyway. This is also where Steve first realizes who, exactly, Sharon is. And it’s important to note that Sam is the one who recognizes Sharon first, even though we’ve never seen them interact in canon before. Does this mean they’ve met? Does this mean Sam has seen her through some other means, like Steve’s sketches? We don’t know. But we know that Sam recognizes her and knows that Steve needs to see this ASAP from how Sam nudges Steve and stares at Sharon. Keep in mind that at this time, everyone knew about the Accords. And Sharon’s stories about Peggy help inspire Steve to stick to his ideals and fight for them when he has to (kind of a major part of the film).

Steve and Sharon talk after the funeral as he walks her to her hotel. She reminds him that she was just “doing her job.” He seems to accept it. She tells him that she didn’t tell Peggy because she didn’t want Peggy to have to keep a secret from him. Is it true? Or was Sharon concerned that a dementia-ridden Peggy would spill the beans? Or did Peggy remember Sharon at all at that point? We don’t know. This is all we have to go on.

Again, their flirtation comes to nothing. They’re interrupted by Sam when he comes to tell them of the bombing at the UN. Sharon helps organize the investigation and then goes to Berlin and supervises others. She’s only been with the CIA for two years - possibly a little less - but she’s already supervising.

Later, she joins Steve and Sam at a bar and gives Steve the folder on where to find Bucky. She makes a point of telling them about the “shoot on sight” order. At this point, multiple people - even Avengers - had been looking for Bucky for years. And Sharon, with her resources, finally helped Steve find him. Not only that, she helped Steve save his life. Why? Some people think she did it just to get in Steve’s pants, but we know from storyboards that it’s a calculated decision on Sharon’s part. She knew that the Winter Soldier could kill everyone sent after him - except for Steve. As she says in the storyboards, she called the right man to do the job. (source) But she also must have known that Steve would NEVER kill Bucky, whereas an Interpol sniper could have taken out Bucky, so her intention must be to keep Bucky alive. We know that she has ideals - perhaps that includes an actual investigation and fair trial. Or perhaps she thinks Bucky may be brainwashed. We don’t know. But her actions to keep Bucky alive arguably save his life.

We see this intelligence on screen shortly thereafter as she and Steve deduce that the goal was to bring Bucky into the UN facility (assuming he wouldn’t be killed, at least). Just then, Bucky is triggered and goes into Winter Soldier mode. Sharon is the one who tells Steve and Sam where to find him - because she knows that Steve has the best chances of stopping him before Winter Soldier kills people.

She then teams up with Tony and Natasha and tells them to follow her. Even though she isn’t an Avenger, Sharon is already acting as support for the Avengers on site to help them do their jobs and save lives. And she doesn’t refrain from joining in the fight, either. There’s fear on her face as she fights Bucky, but she still does so. The implication is that if she can’t stop him, she can at least slow him down and buy other people time to get away.

She’s only in one more scene in the movie, the one where she gets Steve his gear, Sam his wings, and possibly a change of clothes for Bucky. Again, people have tried to skew this as Sharon just doing it to get in Steve’s pants, but remember - at this point, the group there’s a group of winter soldiers that Zemo is going to release and control. She’s not getting him his shield because she’s trying to seduce him (hell, he’s the one who asked her out two years before, and also the one who first pulls her into the kiss. He’s the instigator). She’s getting him the shield because it will enable him to save people. She doesn’t even seem to hold a grudge against Bucky - she seems more amused that he tried to kill her and is currently in the back of a Volkswagon Beetle than mad.

She’s also the one who leaves. We don’t know where she went. We only know she didn’t join in on the fighting because Marvel got to use Spider-Man (without him, Ant-Man would have been on Tony’s side, and Sharon on Steve’s to even things up). Before she goes, though, Steve tells her they’ll be coming after her, and she replies that she knows.

Time on screen: 5 minutes. (Yep! If you do the math, she did all of this in 7 1/2 minutes on screen)

That’s the thing, though. It was never about romance for Sharon. It was always, always, about doing what she thought was right. She went into SHIELD because she wanted to save people. Questioned orders because she didn’t trust the orders. Gave Steve info on Bucky because she thought even a brainwashed assassin deserved saving. She got Steve and Sam their gear because she knew it was the best way to save people. And what does she get for it? Multiple hard-earned careers destroyed and a fugitive status.

Sharon is, ultimately, a good person. Not just a love interest. Fandom loves to reduce women to love interests, but no woman is ever ~just~ a love interest. Kissing someone, being loved by someone, does not erase a woman’s character, personality, and accomplishments.

So what can you do if you’re worried, after all this, that Sharon will still be reduced to “just” a love interest?

ACTUALLY SUPPORT HER.

Tweet @MarvelStudios, send in emails, write letters, get buzz going about how you want to see Sharon as a fully-rounded character. Ask questions about Sharon’s story that we haven’t gotten. Where did she go when she was on the run? Why did she join the CIA? How much did she help Fury? Why have we seen so little of her?

If you claim to “support women characters” and all that jazz, actually do it. Stop putting women down for finding love/being loved. Start propping them up by demanding more screentime and development for their characters.

If you’re really bold and want to put your actions where your words are, you can also follow Sharon fanblogs and reblog fanfic and fanart that doesn’t put her down. It’s alarming how many Sharon “supporters” only support her when it comes down to her needing to be independent and not “just” a love interest, but their blogs are devoid of any actual support.

(Oh, and in case this post isn’t enough, there’s another essay with things I missed about how she isn’t reduced to a love interest here.)

#sharon carter #just a love interest #what more should i add?

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dylinski · 5 years

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Trick or Treat

Request/Prompt: Anon - Hey , i have two Halloween prompt ideas . 1/ Reader and Stiles are trapped in a haunted house . 2/ Reader is going to a Halloween party , Posting a Pic of her sexy costume , Derek seeing that,decide to go there to tell her how He feels . Hope youre gonna Like it

Warnings: make out, light smut?, possessive, mild language, angst (because we all know i can’t write something without it)

Relationships: Derek Hale/Reader

Word Count: 2067

Author: @dylan-obrien-fanblog

A/N: part two of a double request from anon. this is the first non-dylan fic i’ve written, so sorry if it’s trash (like most of my trash 😅) hope it’s what you wanted. and still working on part one.

Trick or Treat

You couldn’t believe how sexy you felt in the Halloween costume you were wearing. Being friends with Stilinski had its benefits, and he was sneaky enough to get you a deputy’s outfit from the station. You made some modifications of course. You replaced the pants with a black skirt that clung to your ass, barely covering it. You wore the shirt, but had the bottom half tied in a knot, showing your stomach. Most of the buttons were undone, showing your cleavage. Stiles even managed to get you a utility belt with everything but the gun. You slipped on your heels, making you 6 inches taller, then took a mirror selfie. You posted the picture on Instagram, only to antagonize a single person. You have had the biggest crush on Derek Hale for the last year, but he wasn’t one to show or even see emotion. You flirted with him, but he seemed impervious. You had begged him to come with you to the party, but he rolled his eyes and told you no. You really wanted to spend time with him, but honestly you wanted him to see you in your outfit. This was the first time you had ever worn something like that. Well, if he wasn’t going to be therein person, he can see what he’s missing.

Lydia texted you as you posted the picture, letting you know she had just arrived to pick you up. You grabbed your bag, took one last look in the mirror to make sure everything looked good, then headed outside to meet her. When Lyds saw you, her jaw dropped. “Daaaaaaaamn girl!” She howled as you opened the door. You couldn’t help but blush as you thanked her, sliding into the seat as best you could with the short skirt. Lydia turned on some dance music, pumping you both up for the party. When you arrived she made you take a selfie with her, both of you making kissy faces at the camera. She took a couple others, both of you making cute and sexy expressions. When you entered the party it was already flooded with bodies, moving to the beat of the music. All your confidence suddenly melted away and you felt doubt seep in as you found yourself lost in the sea of people. Being alone in your room, wearing this outfit, was one thing, but in front of a hundred people was something else. Hopefully, once you got some liquid courage in you, you’d be fine. You headed to where they were serving the alcohol with Lydia.

After a couple drinks, both of you felt relaxed and let the night take over as you danced to the pounding of the speakers. Lydia kept taking pictures of you and the other people you had just met. She liked to ‘document’ everything and was always posting online. Typically you would be against this, but you were too drunk to care. “Hey! Lydia! I’m gonna her another drink!” You shouted over the blaring noise, but she didn’t hear you. You could barely hear yourself. Unsure of what you said, she still nodded. You headed to the bar when strong hands grabbed you from behind by your hips. They pulled you tight, crashing you into a muscular body and almost tumbling you to the floor, but their grip kept you upright. “What the..?” You mumbled under your breath. The lights were flashing and there were too many bodies, making it difficult to make out who it was. The blurry vision didn’t help either. The hands were now holding your arms and pulling you through the crowd. “Ow. You’re hurting me.” Your arm was starting to throb where the grip was, signaling your brain of the pain.

You were pulled through a door that led into an alley. The cold brisk midnight air raised goosebumps on your skin, clashing against the warmth and heat of the party. “Let go of me!” You shouted as you yanked your arm from the hand as it’s tightness loosened. The hands grabbed your shoulders and pulled you to face a familiar and grumpy face. “Aww. You’re grumpy. You’re cute when you’re mad.” Your antagonizing only made him furrow his thick brows deeper, almost cementing them into a single brow.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He growled at you through his teeth, eyes watching you fiercely as he held you in place.

“I’m partying. At the party.” If it weren’t for Derek’s arms holding you up, you thought you might keel over. You were seeing double and starting to feel sick. Your eyes widened as you felt your stomach churning. Derek’s face immediately relaxed and changed to worry. Thankfully, his quick reflexes were able to bring you over to the wall before you puked on him. You held your weight against the wall as he held your hair and rubbed your back up and down. Oh God. That’s when it hit you. Sobering up, you realized you looked like a complete mess. No, you were a complete mess and it was all on display for Derek to see. Your makeup was smeared and created dark circles around your eyes. You were pale and clammy from throwing up and feeling just as bad as you looked didn’t help.

You turned, leaning your back against the wall as Derek gave you a sympathetic half smile. He offered you a piece of gum that you took graciously, still irritated by his empathetic expression. “What?” He just shrugged and crossed his arms across his toned chest, causing his biceps to flex. Thankfully you were already flushed. “Don’t look at me like that!”

“Like what, Y/N?”

“Like I look the same as I feel.” You couldn’t look him in the eyes for more than a couple seconds at a time, embarrassed by your current state.

“And how do you feel?” His question was antagonizing and almost sarcastic. You show him a hard look, shooting daggers at him. You quickly looked back down to the ground, counting the pebbles to distract you as you answered.

“Like shit.” Derek walked to you blocking you in between him and the wall, his hands resting on your arms.

“You don’t look like shit.” His voice was soft and his look genuine, something you had never seen him wear before. You cocked your head to the side with intrigue until his words registered and red rushed to your cheeks.

“Thanks.” You were breathless as he inched in closer, causing you to inch back, his body almost pinning you to the wall now. “Um. Derek?”

“Yeah?” He breathed, his air hitting your lips as he spoke, your faces only inches apart.

“Why...why are you here?” Your question triggered something in the man. He immediately released his hands and took multiple steps back, putting a good three feet between the two of you. You stayed, leaning against the wall, afraid to move.

“I saw the pictures.” He looked at the ground when he answered. His voice was hard and deep, almost like he was ashamed of his words.

“Pictures?” You stepped forward, pushing off the wall, but he mimicked the movement, stepping back. His arms were crossed and his eyebrows pulled together, wearing his never changing brooding expression. He refused to look at you. You took another step towards him. He flinched, but didn’t move this time. You took a few more steps until you could place your palm on his cheek. He turned his head away, but didn’t fight your touch. Your fingers trailed down to his chin, moving it so you could see his eyes. His face may have been contorted and full of anger, but his eyes were sad. “Derek, what is it?”

He stepped back, pulling from your grasp as he threw his hands up, bursting with fury. “You can’t just do that!” Confusion covered your face as you looked at him like he was ranting and raving over nothing. What had you done to him? If anything, you should be complaining about him. In response to your expression, he widened his eyes and jerked his head as he threw his hands up in your direction. “You! This! You can’t just wear something like that! Especially where everyone can see!”

“Excuse me?” Your confusion turned to rage. Who the hell did he think he was, telling you what you can and can’t wear? “What gives you the right to say something like that? You can’t just come here out of the blue after I asked you to, and you said no by the way, then tell me I'm ‘not allowed to wear this’.” He didn’t appreciate the quotation marks, evident by his scoff. “Look, I’m not one of your little werewolves, okay? You’re not my alpha. I’m my own goddamn alpha!” You shoved his shoulder, furious at him now. How dare he treat you like some sort of property. He gritted his teeth, his jaw hurting out behind his tight lips.

When he didn’t say anything, you pushed him again, and harder, causing him to shift his balance. He glared at you and without hesitation pushed you back up to the wall, caging you in with his arms. His hot breath panting and washing over your face. Terror flooded you and Derek saw. He dropped his arms to his side and looked disappointed in himself. “It’s not like that.” His voice was soft again. “I don’t want you dressing like this because I don’t want...I don’t want other guys looking at you.” You couldn’t help but open your mouth in shock. What was he saying? Did he mean what you thought he meant? Was he trying to tell you he-

Your thoughts were cut off when he pressed his lips to yours, taking advantage of them being parted and pushing his tongue past without hesitation. You pushed back against the wall, railing yourself up on your toes. He pulled his lips back, your foreheads still connected, and you both gasped for breath. You stared at his lips, processing what just happened. After only a couple seconds, you grabbed his face with both hands, pulling his lips back to yours in a deep kiss. Your mouths were open wide, teeth clashing and tongues swirling as you wanted as much of him as you could get. He cupped his hands at the top of your thighs and pulled up, prompting you to jump as you wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

He pushed you against the wall as his lips moved from yours down your jawline until they met your neck. This summoned a moan as he nipped and sucked at the skin, erupting a growl from him. His hand slid up your skirt, gripping your ass tight. You could feel the fire building inside you, craving every inch of him, but you dropped to your feet. He looked at you in confusion. “Not here.” All you could manage was a whisper from your dry throat, panting for breath as your desire raged inside. “Believe me, I want nothing more than to jump your bones right here and now, but I doubt our first time together should be in the middle of an alley...next to my puke.” He laughed and nodded in agreement.

He grabbed your wrist with deep dark eyes, full of lust and pulled you to his SUV. Thank God he only lived 10 minutes away. As you got into the car, you went to buckle your seat-belt. “Oh. You think we’re waiting to get back to the loft?” His words were menacing and hungry. He leaned over and kissed you again, holding your cheek in his hand, picking up where you left off in the alley. You were rudely interrupted by some drunk college kids cackling outside the club a couple feet away, oblivious to the two of you. It was still annoying though. You shot Derek a look and he didn’t seem to care they were there.

“Just drive you idiot.” He laughed and turned over the engine, taking you back to the loft to finish what he had started. He took your hand, squeezing as he drove, you squeezed back and gave him a smile. “Trick or treat?” He looked at you with his wolf eyes, red and full of fire as he smiled devilishly at your question.

“Treat.”

#derek hale #derek hale x reader #halloween #trick or treat #my writing

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alyciadorknamcarey · 4 years

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RULES: Answer 20 questions then tag 20 blogs you want to get to know better.

Tagged by @aliciaclarkes

1. name: elise

2. nickname: elisia, elisey, elise patrice, e-buzz, eep, many more

3. zodiac sign: gemini :)

4. height: 5'7

5. languages: english, conversant in asl

6. nationality: lesbian (i thought you were american)

7. favorite season: fall but that's a hard choice

8. favorite flower: violets, lilies

9. favorite scent(s): i love the vs bombshell perfume, the smell of the seasons changing, lavender, and sandalwood

10. favorite color: any pastel pinks and rose gold

11. favorite animal: cats and bats

12. favorite fictional character: lexa, alicia clark, franky fitzgerald

13. coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: i love them all but i drink coffee the most frequently out of them

14. average sleep: my schedule is FUCKED right now so anywhere from 2 hours to 12+ :)

15. cats or dogs: both but cats

16. number of blankets: 1-3 depending with more on standby just in case

17. dream trip: greece or australia

18. blog established: main in 2009 ish? side fanblog in 2015

19. how many followers?: 1,080

20. random fact about you: i can sing my abc's backwards! i won’t be tagging anyone because i’m 98% sure all my fandom friends have already been tagged, but if you see this, please play and tag me in it!

#tag game #ask game #thank u molly !!!!!!!!!!! <3 #elise speaks

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magic-and-moonlit-wings · 7 years

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Strange Magic Fandom Welcome Basket

(Based on Humanity-in-a-Handbag’s post and my extension of it, so I’m not just reblogging that one over and over as I’ve been doing. I streamlined it a little, since some people no longer appear active in the tag or on fanfiction sites. This Welcome Basket is mostly the same as the last one, and the one before that, but reposted instead of reblogged to appear at the top of the tag again, and with a few typos corrected or bits added and gifs changed around.)

Welcome to the fandom, stranger!

So, you’ve watched Strange Magic a few (dozen) times, or maybe you saw it on the Disney Channel, and now you want to get into the fandom! There’s a tag on Tumblr for the movie, but that sometimes has negative reviews in it. Here’s a list of people in the fandom you can check out.

humanityinahandbag herself, of course, and thatchickwiththeheadphones are the Bonnie and Clyde of the fandom. If you’re looking for angst, go there first. They also do comedy, and thatchick does fan-art.Humanity, like many in the fandom, is also on AO3.

suzie-guru has a little bit of everything - a post-movie series, a canon-divergence series, and a Human AU series, along with one-shots.

dainesanddaffodils is a delight with a whole bunch of AUs, mostly human.

artbymaureen is the Fandom Aunt; one of the animators of the movie! She also does fan-art and sometimes comments on people’s meta or characterization posts.

Meredith Anne Bull, the voice of Dawn, is on tumblr and open to chatting with people about the film!

Endorathewitchandawriter is … possibly the most prolific writer in the whole fandom.

abutterflyobsession works mostly with alternate universes - such creativity cannot be bound to just one world!

joons has art, gifs, and meta.

r2ninjaturtle and amirattus have done Strange Magic cosplay.

siffieleafy mostly reblogs things but comments in the tags.

margoteve writes cute and fluffy fics.

sophaoat has a bit of everything and a handy-dandy ‘Strange Magic’ tag right on the side of her blog for easy searching.

deluxetrashqueen organizes event, makes videos, and makes fan-art, as well as writing stories.

ladybajingo makes and reblogs fan-art.

magically-strange has fics, gifs and art! They’re on AO3 under their old user name, MagicalStranger13.

goldwerewolf is a artist of high caliber.

faery-goblin is a great illustrator and has at least one story in-progress.

magic-and-moonlit-wings writes stories, also on fanfiction.net and AO3.

RavenDiablo’s sequel to the movie is on DeviantArt, posted as separate chapters, and on fanfiction.net.

Cedar-King is also on AO3 under the name Pikuna - there’s a lot of overlap within this fandom.

Bifacialler (or Ler on AO3) has a variety of creative and detailed Human AUs, as well as at least one post-movie fic and canon-divergence story.

jaegereska (RazormusPrime) has an ambitious post-movie series in progress, with a lot of pre-movie world building.

owl-quill started the Strange Magic story prompts/requests page on AO3.

Katra21 and touchofgrey37 are go-to writers if you need a Potionless fix, thought neither one seems to be generating new content.

gleefully-macabre has also begun a Potionless story, among other works.

teddy-feathers is a good sources of reblogged material and may be scheming to wow us all with works of their own someday.

jupiter235 also reblogs a lot, and has a Dracula AU in progress, as well as some other AUs and some completed one-shots.

megamegaturtle has a whole bunch of one-shots and at least one multi-chapter in progress.

Emersonian has a sequel set years after the movie, about one of Marianne and Bog’s children being cursed as a baby, trapped in another dimension as a teenager, and ending up in a high school for villains.

spirrum doesn’t seem active in the fandom anymore but still has some good stories archived.

dancesonmoonlight has a whole bunch of AU stories on AO3 and fanfiction.net.

Islenthatur has AO3 and FFnet stories, some of which are ongoing.

whimsicalitywhee has some one-shots buried in their archives, along with some characterperspective explorations mid-movie, a dancing Bog gif, fan art, and an ongoing human/ghost AU, the last of which is also on AO3 and fanfiction.net.

celepom has both artwork and high-quality screenshot collections.

tamiletrange has a tutorial for Marianne’s makeup!

catesartworks is an illustrator/painter/animator reworking the story for greater racial diversity.

freyamaat is an artist with a Beauty and the Beast semi-crosssover in the works.

levele3 has written a collection of Human AU stories.

noprimroses is a joint fanblog with art, headcanons, fanfiction, gif sets, and edits.

danger-flammable, or a3rie, has illustrations and wrote a cute one-shot about the Imp’s backstory.

hellfire-bunny is plotting Butterfly Bog Angst.

Marianne Is The Best Disney Princess, Cedar-King and OwlQuill Scribblings are all Strange Magic-dominated side-blogs, because the users found Strange Magic posts and reblogs were taking over their other blog.

(Anyone and everyone, feel free to tack on more names, or tag a new fan you notice so they can have the list!)

And here are a list of headcanons to decide, if you need prompts to get you started on your own world-building:

What exactly is Sugar Plum?

What happens in the winter? Do fairies migrate? Do goblins hibernate? Does everyone hibernate?

What happened to Marianne and Dawn’s mother?

What happened to Bog’s father?

How did Bog come to be king - inheritance from one of his parents, or defeating the previous ruler in combat/assassinating them?

Will Marianne and Bog (and Dawn and Sunny, for that matter) be able to have biological children?

What happens next for Stuff and Thang?

Are Marianne’s tiny sparring partners pixies or sprites? (I’ve heard but not confirmed that, if the movie is played with subtitles or Descriptive Video, they are called pixies, but it never comes up between the characters so it’s still up in the air.)

What are the fuzzy people, seen in both the Fairy Kingdom (Marianne dropped a baby one off a bridge by accident in the opening) and in the Dark Forest (one fell in love with a mushroom)?

What is the Fairy King’s name? (TV Tropes says it’s “Dagda”, but since it never came up in the movies or the credits it can be changed.)

Is Roland a redeemable character?

Who/what is the insectoid person Roland was dusted for?

What is the backstory of Bog’s first love interest? What happened to her after That Fateful Day?

Where is the music come from? Can the characters hear the background music?

Are humans a thing in this universe? If so, is it modern times, sometime in the past, or some time in the future?

Some animals can talk and some can’t. What’s the boundary line carnivores and omnivores use to determine sentience?

Do fairies eat meat? For that matter, do elves or goblins eat meat? (We know from the blackberries on the table in the lofely snack room that goblins eat plants.)

What is Marianne’s makeup made of, and where does it come from?

Why does the Fairy Kingdom have more metalwork than the Dark Forest?

How deep does the implied racial/species segregation in the Fairy Kingdom go?

Where are Bog, Griselda, and any other goblins who lived in the castle going to live now?

What other kingdoms, countries, etc. does each kingdom have contact and/or trade with?

How did Dawn and Sunny first meet?

Are fairies born or hatched? Are they born/hatched with wings or do those grow later?

Fountains in the fairies’ ballroom suggest plumbing - how common is that?

How do Pare and Sunny know each other, beyond living in (probably) the same village? How well did they know each other pre-movie?

Do the mushrooms have another language that the goblins mistranslate, or do some messages actually change along the mushroom line, or do they not enunciate clearly, or do the goblins on messenger duty happen to have poor hearing?

Did any goblins secretly date or marry during Bog’s love ban?

To close, here’s another gif:

You are Sunny. The dandelion seeds are the overwhelming number of various fanworks you now have access to. Have fun!

Quick reminder - anyone not already on the list, it’s not that I don’t like your stuff, I probably just forgot to add a link you! Message or Ask me and I will put you in! (Also, if someone is shy and doesn’t want to be in the Welcome Basket, that’s okay too.) Every time I repost this I get at least one message of “don’t forget [name]!”

#Strange Magic #spread the lofe!#strange magic fandom welcome basket #reference links #long post

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tokugou · 3 years

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I wasn't tagged by anyone ofc, I used Sky's @tokoyammi open tag haha. What? It was fun and I know I wouldn't be tagged EDIT: I was tagged by @coconutcephalopod Thank you so much! I did it earlier, but I’m really happy someone thought of me to tag, so I will add your name here! I hope you see it <3

why did you choose your url?

I wanted something todobaku but everything obvious was already taken so I had to improvise

any side blogs?

resource blog; movie/game/tv blog (but not side tho); unused fanblog for todoroki and one empty one for the sake of url

how long have you been on tumblr?

I made this account in Feb 2021 but I have been here since 2010 or 2009?

do you have a queue tag?

half dead half queue

why did you start your blog in the first place?

I dunno? I kept making new whenever I was coming back after a break and I just like having things ordered so I made this for only anime/manga but it turned out I abandoned my main for the sake of this one because I was having fun here (I met a friend here)

why did you choose your icon?

Bakugou is the best boy that exists, he is cute and precious so it is obvious choice

why did you choose your header?

It is beautiful and I requested it and it was made by the amazing Ana, I had to use it!

what’s your post with the most notes?

sadly kirishima manga edit (chara chart) has 3476 notes - sadly because it wasn’t even my fav one. But the second spot is taken by Bakugou’s birthday graphic which I really like and it is 3202 notes, which makes me happy. Most of my post rarely reach 500 notes so don’t get tricked by this two.

how many followers do you have?

1k but most of them are as active as cheezbot so... yeah I dunno why I am followed

how many people do you follow?

114 - but some of them are inactive for a long time. I have a really hard time following people or rather picking, even if I see so many nice and amazing people I am often triggered by notps or put off by no-tagging while being all things blog. Like this is such a struggle! Because my dash is dead and I want to follow ppl but I can’t. I wish I was normal... :(

have you ever made a shitpost?

Aren’t all post shitposts?

how often do you use tumblr?

Everyday... because I have no life

did you have a fight/argument with a blog once?

Not here, like I go by the rule “if they try to pick a fight just block” also I am doing my best to stay in gray area lol like I only shittalk with trusted friends to not piss off ppl

how do you feel about “you need to reblog this post”?

no one gonna tell me what to reblog

do you like tag games? do you like ask games?

I love both, I am rarely tagged so I use “tagging whoever want to do this”. For the ask games I did only a few so far co I’m more anxious with them. I am always worried I gonna upset sb with my answers like with ship bingo or things like that. Also I am scared no one gonna send me a thing and I will feel embarassed.

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

I think all of them are, I see them everyday here seeing how they are loved.

do you have a crush on a mutual?

#chloe's tagged #long post #DONT REBLOG #but just in case sb did I put it under read more

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dolce-peach · 4 years

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Loki x reader, reader is on the younger side (but not really) and has a large extended family who one day begged her to babysit three little nephews at the tower and Loki has to help too. Just parental Loki Fluff pls

domestic bliss

pairing: loki x reader

warnings: fluff, soft loki

a/n: i absolutely cannot 🥺 also my non-creative mind decided to name the lil ones peter, harry, and gwen 😅😂 and i will say this as many times as i can: loki deserves the whole world 🥺🥺🥺❤️ hope you guys like it!

permanent taglist: @kaitlynmalikisnotonfire @just-another-loki-fanblog

** TO MAKE A REQUEST -- please check the status in my bio **

masterlist

----

“Who is the best baby in the whole wide world?”

Your baby nephew Peter squealed in your arms as you held him up, hoisting him higher until he left your hands for a moment. He giggled as you caught him again, his cheeks rosy.

“But Auntie Y/N! What about me?” your other nephew Harry whined, hugging your leg.

“I’m Auntie Y/N’s favorite!” exclaimed your niece, Gwen. “Everyone knows that!”

You laughed as you bent down, embracing them. “I love you all, okay?”

You kissed their cheeks before carrying Peter into the kitchen, where you got his bottle ready.

Your days weren’t usually like this at the Avengers Tower, but when your older sisters had to run on last minute business trips, as the youngest, you couldn’t say no. Little Peter, Harry, and Gwen had grown to be absolutely irresistible in recent years, so you never minded looking after them anyways.

Peter began whining a bit, sensing his bottle was close to being ready. He already began reaching for the bottle.

“No, sweetie,” you cooed. “It’s not ready yet.”

Gwen tugged at your sweats. “Auntie Y/N, can I have a snack?”

You answered by getting a bowl of sliced peaches out on the table. Both Harry and Gwen climbed into their seats, reaching for the fruit.

Peter cried a bit more, and you did your best to distract him by making funny faces. His cries echoed throughout the entire floor.

“Who in the world is making so much noise?” Loki raged as he stormed into the room.

You sent him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, my sisters needed someone to watch the kids.”

Loki’s threatening aura faded away, replaced with realization. “Oh,” he said quietly. “Forgive me.”

“Uncle Loki!” Gwen cheered.

The god frowned. “That’s King Loki to you.”

Harry pouted. “I thought Uncle Thor was the king.”

“That’s --” Loki sighed. “Never mind.”

You almost completely forgot about Peter in your arms. You grabbed the warm bottle and fit the nipple on top before giving it to him. He grasped on tightly, sucking eagerly.

Out of the corner of your eye, Loki tried peeking over your shoulder to watch as Harry and Gwen were having a conversation about spaceships.

“Isn’t he adorable?” you whispered.

Loki cowered back, coughing. “I suppose he’s quite...above average.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Do you not like kids?”

“They’re loud,” he said, eyeing Harry and Gwen. “They’re much too excited, and they have incredible tantrums.”

“Hm, sounds a lot like you,” you teased.

He walked around the counter. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly how it sounds,” you laughed.

Loki rolled his eyes as he stood in front of you. You somehow never ceased to amaze him with how far you could go.

Before he could realize what was going on, you placed Peter in his hands.

His eyes widened with panic. “Wait, what are you doing?”

You grinned, adjusting his awkward, lanky arms so he held the baby safely. “Letting the four of you bond while I take a break,” you said. “I can only be a mom for so long.”

“Parenting is not necessarily a specialty I possess, especially given my family history,” he said. “Take him back!”

“I’ll be down training with Nat for about an hour,” you said as you playfully nudged his shoulder. “Call me if you need anything, but he should be ready for a nap after finishing his bottle. All you have to do is watch him sleep.”

“Where are you going, Auntie Y/N?” Harry inquired sadly.

You ruffled his hair. “Just downstairs to train,” you explained. “Don’t you want to spend time with Uncle Loki?”

Harry looked as though he was going to cry. “Yeah, but I want you, Auntie Y/N!”

Gwen took his hand. “It’s okay, Harry. I’ll take care of you,” she said. “And Uncle Loki might make something explode again!”

Harry’s eyes lit up, making you smile.

You gave the two one more hug before walking towards the door, sending a wink towards Loki.

He glared at you. “I have to admit I’m thinking about stabbing you right now.”

“Go ahead,” you said. “But you’d miss me.”

Loki frowned deeply, opening his mouth to complain once more before you shut the door behind you.

You panted, catching your breath as you took gulps of water. Your body was pretty worn from babysitting the past few days, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.

“How are the little rascals?” Natasha asked, sitting down next to you.

You handed her a water bottle and a towel. “So energetic,” you said. “They’re good kids.”

“I don’t doubt it,” she laughed. “Who’s watching them now?”

“Loki.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? He was okay with it?”

“Not really, but when is he ever?”

She nodded. “Hope he doesn’t make the toaster oven explode again.”

You laughed.

After a few more minutes of rest, you decided you were done for the day. You said bye to Natasha before heading upstairs to the common area. You were expecting total chaos and mayhem, but when the doors slid open, it was quiet.

“Loki?” you called.

You carefully walked in, your eyes scanning the room until you spotted them on the couch.

Loki sat sleeping, holding Harry and Gwen on either side while Peter was sound asleep in his lap. Loki’s lips were slightly agape, making you stifle a laugh.

You carefully snapped a picture before touching his shoulder. “Loki.”

He opened his eyes groggily as you helped him up, careful not to wake the kids. “Y/N?”

“Morning, sleepy-head,” you laughed. “Have fun while I was gone?”

“Actually,” he began. “Yes.”

“Good,” you said. “I think you’d make a great dad. I think they really like you.”

His eyes glistened. “You think so?”

“Definitely.”

167 notes · View notes

dolce-peach · 4 years

Text

frostbite

just-another-loki-fanblog said: Hey can you pleeeeaaase write a story where y/n is a goddess of (your choice for me i would prefer destruction or winter) and she arrives in asgard during the fight between hela and thor

Ps : can you make loki the love interest of the story

----

pairing: loki x goddess!reader

warnings: death, blood

a/n: i really enjoyed writing this -- thanks for requesting 😄 (also if you haven’t already seen, a really cute detective pikachu gif was used and oh my heart ❤️ i was instantly convinced)

permanent taglist: @kaitlynmalikisnotonfire

** TO MAKE A REQUEST -- please check the status in my bio **

masterlist

----

It had been a while since you left your little nebula on the outskirts. You were busy creating new stars to put in the clear winter skies of Earth, the planet you cared deeply for. The humans that lived there continued to destroy their resources and wage war on themselves, but there were some people that still appreciated the small things.

Nursing infant stars was never mentioned in your job description, but it was certainly a relaxing pastime. It was either that, or wait a whole year before your real work began.

“My little Calliope,” you murmured, holding a small ball of light. “May you bless the heavens and the earth with your light.”

“Y/N.”

You turned to see Astraea, the goddess of innocence. She was as lovely as ever, with a golden glow about her skin and hair.

You smiled. “Astraea.”

She helped you lay Calliope to rest in the floating nursery. “Have I ever told you how grateful I am for your help?”

“Always,” you replied with a blush. “It’s really no trouble at all. I enjoy it.”

“I’m glad,” she said. Her expression grew troubled. “I was just notified about Odin’s passing.”

You frowned deeply, thinking about how your dear friends Thor and Loki must feel. You knew Thor shared a deep connection with his father. Loki, on the other hand, didn’t, but you knew he still cared. You were sure now that both of their parents were gone, there was sure to be a huge void.

“I’m so sorry,” Astraea said. “I know you were close to his family.”

You nodded with a bitter smile. “Yes.”

The star goddess pursed her lips. “Then surely you know about the condition.”

“What condition?”

“As long as Odin lived, he kept his firstborn at imprisoned in Hel,” Astraea explained. “Back when Asgard was a realm that conquered, his firstborn was faithfully by his side until her greed grew beyond measure.”

You felt the blood drain from your face. “Hela.” You shook your head. “I thought she was a myth.”

Astraea hummed, busying herself with another star. “Some beings are old and forgotten, but that doesn’t change the fact that they still exist.”

“But,” you started, panicked. “You’ve educated me since I was created, but Thor and Loki...”

“They don’t know,” she concluded. She looked out into the colored cloud and sighed. “Their prophecy of Ragnarok is about to come true. It will bring about destruction to their world.”

You clenched your hands tightly. “I must go help them.”

“I know,” Astraea said with a sad smile. “And help them, you will.”

When you opened your eyes, you were standing at the Bifrost entrance, surrounded by undead warriors. Their green eyes made you panic. With a quick turn, you encased them all in thick ice.

Your breath was a soft cloud that escaped your lips. You looked around quickly, looking for any signs of life.

“Y/N!”

You turned to see Heimdall on the bridge, shielding Asgardians from more warriors.

With a wave, you sent a cold wind and knocked them into the surrounding water. You ran head on with a few and sent icy daggers into their chests before they screamed and fell.

“I saw you coming,” Heimdall said. “We have to get the people safely out of here.” He yelled as he sent his sword into a soldier. “Loki brought a ship, but I don’t know how many people are still in the city.”

You nodded. “Leave it to me. Focus on getting people on board.”

His golden eyes understood as you jumped off the bridge, creating an icy path for your feet as you ran around the Asgardian crowds. Once you turned on the bridge again, you fought your way past the warriors, pushing most of them into the water below.

You ran as fast as your feet could carry you. You came to a stop in the plaza just before the homes, your breath running away.

There lay hundreds of dead Asgardian warriors, making you cover your mouth in horror. Though you were the goddess of a cold and unforgiving season, you had never seen so much innocent death in one place.

You quickly ran into each home, making sure everyone was out. You silently prayed for all of the innocent that lay dead in the streets.

Your pointed ears twitched at a small cry.

Your eyes focused on two bodies strewn across the floor of the small home. Their dark blood dried on the rugs, staining the stone floor below. You slowly walked towards a crib in the corner, your eyes landing on a tiny baby girl, her blonde hair glowing in the sunlight.

Tears filled your eyes as you lifted the baby into your arms. She was no heavier than a star.

“I’ll get you out,” you whispered, touching her forehead with yours. “I promise.”

Once the baby was secure in your arms, you cautiously walked back into the street.

A sharp pain at your cheek made you stop in your tracks. A dagger embedded itself into the stone wall next to you.

You didn’t hesitate to send ice daggers into the undead warriors coming towards you.

More seemed to appear every moment, making you panic as you continued to fight with the child in your arms. You had to protect her at all costs. You’d seen enough death that day.

Someone landed next to you, blocking an oncoming sword.

“Loki,” you breathed with wide eyes.

“Heimdall told me you were here,” he grunted. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“I had to make sure everyone made it out,” you explained as you pushed a soldier away. “What are you doing?”

He chuckled as he stabbed another. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m rescuing you.”

You fought back a blush before kicking a soldier’s head clean off.

It wasn’t long before the two of you had defeated the group. You leaned against a wall, the adrenaline wearing off.

“You alright?”

Loki stood in front of you, offering you a hand. You smiled as you took it, and he helped you up.

“It’s been a while, Y/N.” His expression was soft as he brushed the hair out of your face.

“Yeah,” you said, looking away. You could feel old feelings bubbling out of your heart. “I came as soon as I could. Astraea told me about Hela, and...” You shook your head. “Loki, I’m so sorry about your father.”

The god frowned. “Thor took it harder, trust me,” he said. “But for now, you’re my top priority.”

“What?”

“If I can get you and that baby back safely, then I can relax,” he said, beginning to walk with you trailing behind him. “Even if you’re a goddess, I can’t take that chance. I can’t live without you.”

Your heart beat a bit faster.

Sensing your silence, he glanced at you. “What?”

You smiled. “Nothing.”

“Come on then,” he said. “Thor’s keeping Hela distracted, but I don’t think he can hold on for much longer.”

The two of you continued running until you made it back to the bridge, where more warriors continued to terrorize Asgardians as they tried to board the ship.

You and Loki exchanged glances before diving into the battle.

Your skin grew cold the more you used your powers. At the same time, the baby you held cried desperately. You couldn’t risk releasing the full extent of your powers, not while you held something so delicate.

“Heimdall!” you called before tossing the baby his way.

He caught her with ease, retreating back to the ship with the rest of the Asgardians.

A hoard of warriors ran towards you and Loki, growling.

“Loki!” you shouted. “Get down!”

He dropped down, just dodging your violent blizzard winds, encasing the army in thick ice. When he rose to his feet, a smirk laced his lips.

“Thanks.” He took off his horned helmet and bashed in the face of a straggler.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. A large bolt of lightning struck the side of the palace, lighting the sky.

The two of you turned to see Thor landing on the bridge, shattering the ice in all different directions.

“Y/N!” Thor called as he ran over. “Are you alright? What are you doing here?”

His long blonde hair was cut short, and his right eye was gone, the socket bloodied.

“I had to come and help,” you said. “Everyone’s on board.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Brother, you’re missing an eye.”

You elbowed him, watching in horror as Hela strutted over, her smug expression striking fear.

“Hit her with a lightning blast,” Loki suggested.

“I just hit her with the biggest lightning blast in the history of lightning! It did nothing!” Thor groaned. His grip on his swords tightened. “We have to stop her here and now lest she’ll hunt us across the entire universe.”

You were trembling. After so many years of giving and nursing life, you couldn’t believe a goddess like Hela existed, even if she was the goddess of death.

Realization flashed in Thor’s eyes.

“Loki!” he began. “This was never about stopping Ragnarok. This was about causing Ragnarok! Surtur’s crown -- the vault!” He shook his head. “It’s the only way.”

Shock flooded Loki’s expression. “Bold move, brother. Even for me.”

You reached for his hand, your eyes still on Hela as she grew closer.

“You’ll come back, right?” you asked softly.

He squeezed your hand. “Of course,” he said, kissing your cheek before running back to the ship, leaving you and Thor against Hela.

You assumed a defensive position, your hands ready and swirling with ice.

“How adorable,” Hela cooed. “You brought another goddess friend to play.”

“Enough, Hela,” Thor snapped.

The goddess sent you a smooth smile. “Funny how my brothers call you for help. You’re too pretty to protect yourself, little one.”

You conjured an ice staff and rushed forward, swinging it towards her head, only to be blocked by one of her necroswords. You kept your footing strong, pushing the goddess back a bit.

Seeing the slight surprise in her eyes, you smirked. “Don’t underestimate me,” you hissed. “I won’t let you take any more lives.”

“Annoying little blossom,” Hela snarled, pushing you away, meeting another one of Thor’s lightning blasts.

She laughed maniacally. “You can’t defeat me, baby brother.”

Thor kicked her back. “I know.”

The entire palace rumbled and began to burn from the inside out. You watched as Surtur emerged from the gold, hot fire spitting everywhere.

“But he can.”

You saw your chance and sent an ice dagger into Hela’s back, knocking her forward and pinning her into the bridge. Rolling out of the way, Thor summoned lightning, cracking the bridge and sending Hela into the water below.

As Surtur continued to wreak havoc on Asgard, you and Thor escaped to the ship thanks to your cold winds.

Cries echoed in the retreating ship as Asgard’s life diminished. You felt tears well in your eyes, the hungry fire spreading fast. You wanted so desperately to put it out, but you knew the Asgardians had their prophecy to fulfill.

You felt a hand on your shoulder.

“We’ll be fine,” Loki said softly. His dark eyes glowed from more blasts. “Thanks for coming today.”

You shook your head, wiping your tears. “You would’ve done the same for me.”

He took your hands in his. “I really mean it,” he said. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You laughed. “This isn’t like you, Loki.”

“What?”

“Being soft.”

“Then what would you like me to be?” Loki teased.

You touched his cheek. “I never said I didn’t like it,” you said. “Better than being cold like me.”

“Darling, you’re not cold. You’re perfect.”

You looked down, smiling shyly. “Where will you go, now that this is all over?”

“Brother will probably decide that,” Loki replied. “Probably Earth.”

“You know they won’t let you back there,” you said with a raised eyebrow. You bit your lip. “You could come with me, if you wanted. I could take you to Astraea’s nebula, and no one will bother you again.”

Your eyes widened at your implication. “If you wanted, of course!”

He kissed your forehead, his expression soft.

“I’d like that.”

197 notes · View notes

dolce-peach · 4 years

Note

hii !! i saw that your requests were open and it’s kenma loving hours for me , so if u write for him can u maybe do a oneshot where fem reader streams with kenma ? like kenma reacting to what his fans are saying , honestly whatever u want to write !! tysm 🥺

vanilla

pairing: kozume kenma x reader

warnings: fluff!

a/n: i squealed when i saw this in my inbox because kenma is a total babie™️ and i love him so much 🥺❤️ thanks for your request, anon, and i hope you like it!! ALSO don’t mind the silly usernames in this HAHHA bonus points if you catch onto a certain side convo in the chat :)

permanent taglist: @kaitlynmalikisnotonfire @just-another-loki-fanblog

** TO MAKE A REQUEST -- please check the status in my bio **

masterlist

----

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon when you finally decided to roll out of bed. Over the blasting AC, you could hear whooshing showers of gunfire and cries of pain. You rubbed your eyes. Kenma was probably going at it since early that morning.

You had no idea how he managed to get any sleep. It seemed like he was constantly gaming. Not that you had a problem with it, but you did want him to spend time away from the screen once in a while.

Rubbing your eyes, you walked out to the living room to see it empty. It was only when you opened the door to the room next door that you saw Kenma at his computer, his headset on.

You noticed the red light on the camera. He was probably recording a stream.

“Morning,” you murmured.

“Afternoon,” he said without looking away.

You pursed your lips. “Have you eaten?”

“Was waiting for you,” he replied.

You sighed, an amused smile crossing your face. Even though he was as “adult” as an adult could be, he was still a simple kid. It sometimes drove both you and Kuroo completely up the wall, but deep down, you both still loved him.

Maybe you loved him a bit too much.

You settled down in the spare chair beside him after washing up, looking over at the game. “Hm, looks like you made good progress.”

Kenma only hummed.

He gave the camera a smile. “Hey guys, hope you don’t mind, but Y/N’s here.”

cookielookie8: OMG is that your gf? so pretty wahh~

kangkuroo: heyy babe

killer_potato: wow you scored dude

sunny-hinata: HI Y/N :D

You couldn’t help but smile as more comments flooded the chat.

“Hi, everyone!” you said before shyly hiding a bit behind Kenma. You weren’t exactly used to his massive online fanbase yet, but everyone seemed friendly so far.

Kenma’s eyes widened as you hugged his arm. The vanilla scent from his hair hit your nose. You could see a small blush coloring his cheeks as he continued playing.

“Hm...vanilla...”

“What?” he nearly exclaimed.

You laughed. “Nothing.”

He glanced at the chat.

ilysm32: YOU GUYS ARE ADORABLEE PLS

milkeyama: GET OFF THE CHAT HINATA-BOKE

love-lovely: you should let her play a round lol

He chuckled. “If you guys want to ask her questions, go ahead while I finish this round.”

You leaned over Kenma’s shoulder to read the chat. “Hm...blossom42 says, ‘are you guys dating pls say you are,’” you said. You smiled. “What do you say, Kenma?”

Another blush made him gulp hard. “Yeah,” he murmured. “We’ve been dating since high school.”

Once again, the chat exploded.

“How come we never see you in streams?” you read. “I’m not really one for the camera, but thank you guys so much for taking care of Kenma,” you said with a shy laugh.

You blinked at the flow of kind comments.

“Give him a kiss?” you muttered. You laughed. “Maybe later!”

flowerpower: STOP BEING SUCH A TEASE

sunny-hinata: YOU GET OFF THE CHAT KAGEYAMA

yolo69: KISS PLS

kangkuroo: STRIP STRIP STRIP

“Kuroo!” you exclaimed, blushing madly.

“What’d he say?” Kenma asked, his eyes still on the game.

You puffed your cheeks out. “You don’t want to know.”

Just as he was about to look, you took his face in your hands, turning his face towards you. His soft cheeks were squished in your palms, making his lips pucker adorably.

“What are you doing?” he managed to say. He gently lowered your hands with a small smile. “I’ll finish this round then we’ll do whatever you want, okay?”

“O-okay.” You sat back down next to him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “You’re the best, Kenma.”

He laughed as he continued playing. “Why are you saying that now?”

“Just because...”

You held onto the sleeve of his Nekoma sweatshirt, watching as his character seemed to dominate in the game. You felt an odd sense of pride while watching him.

He continued playing quietly before pausing the game.

“Alright, guys. Y/N and I are in need of some R&R,” he said into his mic. “Thanks for tuning in. I’ll be on tomorrow.”

He removed his headset and ended the feed.

You looked at him with concern. “Is it okay for you to do that? It’s so sudden.”

He nodded. “Of course. It’s my stream,” he replied as he turned and collapsed on the couch behind him, stretching. “Besides, I want to spend time with you.”

Butterflies made your stomach flutter as you averted your gaze. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You rolled over to rest your head in his lap, gazing up at him with fond eyes. You could see a small blush coloring his cheeks as he turned to the side.

You wrapped your arms around his hips, closing your eyes as you pulled yourself closer to his warm stomach.

He made a small sound at the contact, almost like a confused whimper. His fingers tentatively touched your hair, and you sighed, nestling your face further into the warmth of his sweatshirt.

“Wh-what are you doing?” he said.

“Nothing,” you laughed with a grin.

His cheeks were rosy as he looked away, puffing out his cheeks. You laughed before sitting up, embracing him in a loose hug as you sat on his lap. Satisfaction hit, and you closed your eyes happily as he stroked your back, humming in your ear.

There weren’t many moments of peace and quiet, especially since the two of you had nearly completely different schedules. It was hard to believe the two of you were already in college. Looking at your life ahead of you was daunting, but you were glad to have Kenma by your side.

“Hungry,” he mumbled.

Your lips brushed across his cheek. “Poor baby.” You began backing up on his lap. “I’ll go make something.”

He pouted as he grasped your wrist, pulling you back into the hug.

“Five more minutes,” he said softly. “I haven’t held you in so long.”

You were sure he could feel your heart beating as your chest pressed against his. His warmth coaxed your eyes to close, eventually falling asleep to his gentle vanilla scent.

20 notes · View notes

dylinski · 5 years

Text

Costume Party

Warnings: None, Fluff.

Relationships: Stiles Stilinski/Reader

Word Count: 1622

Author: @dylan-obrien-fanblog

A/N: Anon asked - camping with dyl/one of his characters. costume party encounter - he’s the yin to your yang, the jimmy jr to your tina belcher, the left shark to your... u get where im going. exploring salem or a haunted place. a psychic reading. snuggles and s’mores. Also, was kind of inspired by @daisyxbuckley for what costumes to pick. ;)

You were nervous as you entered the house, overflowing with people. You always loved Halloween, being able to dress up, everyone pretending to be something else. It was the one night a year when no one cared who or what you were, everyone came together to celebrate the spooky season. The house party was hosted by none other than Lydia Martin. She had multiple parties a year, but this was always the biggest. You sifted through the crown, trying to find your friends when a warm hand on your shoulder startled you. You yelped as you jumped into the air. Turning around, you saw a sweet, mole-speckled face with sun-kissed eyes staring back. Looking him up and down, your mouth fell agape at his costume.

“Nice costume.” He smiled as he spoke, making you blush. “Robin Buckley.” You were in fact, Robin from your new favorite obsession, Stranger Things. You had the were wearing her Scoops Ahoy uniform, hat, and badge.

“You too.” You chuckled as you hit your red cheeks from him. He was wearing Steve’s uniform. “So where’s your Robin?” You asked hesitantly, scared she was lurking somewhere nearby.

“Don’t have one. You wanna be my Robin?” Your eyes grew wide at his question as you impulsively nodded. “Let’s dance.” He shouted over the music as he took you by the wrist, pulling you through the sea of people to where everyone was dancing. It was an upbeat song, but you were shy so you danced in small motions. The boy let it all loose. He was throwing out moves like the sprinkler, running man, and other old school dances. He motioned for you to move closer, and you did, making your movements a little wider and less timid. After you watched him, his confidence rubbed off on you. You found your body moving and swaying to the beat of the music, hands roaming the air around you. You felt the beat of the music in your soul and were lost in the movements of your body.

You were brought back as your Steve came in close, your bodies almost touching. You were dancing facing each other, mirroring your motions and moving insync. The music flowed from one body to the other, making everything and everyone else around you float away. It was just the two of you on the dancefloor, and that was all that mattered. The mood changed as a slow song resounded through the speakers, the open sea of bodies around you, pairing off, creating gaps in the crowd. You stopped and looked at the honey-eyed stranger, waiting to see what he would do. He shrugged and walked up to you, offering you his hand. He pulled you in, bumping you into his chest and you giggled at the motion. He wrapped his arms around you as you wrapped yours around his waist and rested your head on his chest. You swayed to the music until the song was over.

Dancing music started up again and he looked down to you and winked. He nodded his head in a direction off the dancefloor and you nodded back in agreement. It was too loud to try and speak over the speakers. He pulled you to another room where Lydia was sitting at a table giving out psychic readings. She was the two of you and waved you both over. “Hey Stiles! Who is this?” You realized you didn’t know his name before that moment and had never thought to ask. Before you could answer the red-head, Stiles cut you off.

“She’s my Robin.” My. You could get used to the sound of that. You sat down across the table from her as she motioned for him to hold out his hand. She analyzed his palm, tracing her fingers over lines and skin.

“You’re cunning and wise, but find yourself in easily avoidable situations. You’re smart, but don’t always use your brain.” Lydia’s eyes darted to you for such a brief moment that you would have missed it were you not already watching her. “You’re going to find someone who completes you, the piece that’s missing. Like a puzzle, or yin to your yang or…” She trailed off, trying to think of another comparison. Before you could hold your tongue, you blurted out exactly what you were thinking.

“Robin to your Steve.” Shock covered both yours and Stiles’ face, but Lydia held a look of approval and nodded.

“Yeah, that too.” She smiled at you and then put her hand out, telling you it was your turn.

:That’s not fair Lydia. You know me so I think I deserve a real reading.” Stiles shot with a pouty face. Lydia hardened her look and fixed her gaze on the unsatisfied boy. Her eyes told him to shut up. You ignored it, figuring you wouldn;t understand anyways. She turned back to your hand, repeating the same motions as before. When her finger reached the center of her palm, she froze and looked straight into your eyes, her own glossed over. Stiles stiffened his body, a look of what you recognized as fear in his eyes. “Lydia?” He mumbled.

“There’s something different about you.” She was still looking at you, speaking to you, ignoring her frantic friend. “You’re...I can’t see it. I can’t see you. Something is...protecting you.” Just like that Lydia closed her eyes and shook her head. She relaxed, as if the last couple minutes never happened. Stiles shot her a glaring look.

“What?” She asked sarcastically, rolling her eyes at him. He was just as confused as you were at her words. He looked to you and relaxed as you shrugged them off. You both thanked Lydia and got up so she could read the people waiting behind you. You followed Stiles to one of the quieter rooms in the house. He stopped abruptly and you almost crashed into him. He spun around and grabbed your hands, holding them in his own.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his dark and full of concern.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” You furrowed your brow at his question, confused as to why he would ask you that. He seemed to relax to your words and he gave you a crooked smile as his eyes softened, returning to their beautiful whisky shade.

“You wanna get out of here?” He offered as he threw a thumb over his shoulder. You nodded and his mirk turned into a smile. He kissed the top of your head, leaving you in shock. Before you could speak he spun around and tugged you at the wrist behind him. He brought you outside to an old banged up blue Jeep. He opened the passenger door and helped you up inside. Then he flew around the front and pulled himself into the driver side. “So where do you wanna go?” He asked with a smile. You scrunched up your face, trying to think of a place to go.

“How about somewhere spooky?” You asked. He laughed, you being oblivious to the joke, as he turned on the ignition and started driving.

“I know just the place.” The smile on his face was almost devilish.

------

No more than twenty minutes later, the car pulled up to an old house in the woods that looked like it had caught fire. “Is that the…?” You trailed off as Stiles completed the question.

“Hale house? Yup.” His smile was mischievous and filled you with excitement. He hopped out of the Jeep and ran around to open your door before you had the chance. He helped you down and didn’t let go of your hand as he led you to the porch. The door was unlocked and creaked as he pushed it open. “The fire was about 12 years ago. Almost the whole family died.” Stiles seemed less adventurous and more sorrowful at his words. As if he had known the people who died. His mood didn't take long to lighten though. You explored the house together as shadows and moonlight danced on the walls and floors through the windows and broken frame. Whenever you got scared or frightened, you would pull Stiles into you, clinging to his torso. He seemed unscathed by the creaks and ghosts of the old house, so he would chuckle under his breath or smile at you, causing you to relax. You spent a good couple hours exploring and talking, but found yourself outside again.

“I don’t want this night to end.” You sighed under your breath.

“It doesn’t have to.” Stiles held you in his arms as he looked at your face. His eyes lit up as he spoke, “I have an idea! There’s a really good spot nearby for campfires. I even think I have some stuff to make s'mores in the back of the Jeep!” He moved hastily as he urged you back into the Jeep and you drove further into the woods. He pulled up to a spot that had been used a campfire many times already. He grabbed the s'mores supplies and a blanket from the back and rushed out to help you from the vehicle. He found some wood nearby and started the fire with some matches. He sat next to you and wrapped the blanket around you both, cuddle close to you as you roasted marshmallows to the crackling fire under the stars.

“I just realized I don’t know your name.” You giggled, not realizing you never told him.

“Y/N.” He smiled and repeated your name back to himself. It made you smile, loving the way it sounded leaving his lips. He kissed your forehead as he pulled you further into his chest as you whispered, “Happy Halloween.”

#halloween #stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #teen wolf #lydia martin #fluff #costume party #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #my writing

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dylinski · 5 years

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Watch Me Bleed (6/?)

Warnings: SMUT, oral, sex, fingering, cussing, angst

Relationships: Mitch Rapp/Reader

Word Count: 2685

Author: @dylan-obrien-fanblog

A/N: here’s the stuff you guys really want. enjoy

Chapter 6

The rest of the ride was quiet. Neither of you looked at each the entire time. You couldn’t figure out why, but you felt guilty after hearing the cause of all Mitch’s pain. Like he revealed a part of himself that wasn’t yours to know. At least it was a distraction from your own agony. You’ve had bad dreams before and more frequently recently, but none like that since your father died. He had left, like he always did, but this time he never came back. His unit had been stationed in a war zone, and they were attacked. Half of them were killed and the other half captured to be tortured for information, then killed. You always hoped his death was quick and painless, and that he wasn’t one of the poor bastards they kept as prisoners.

You were 12 when the men came to tell you and your mom about his death. The moment you opened the door and saw them standing there, you knew, but it wasn’t until they said the words that made it real. Everything in you begged for it to be a joke, a mistake. They had the wrong family and your dad was going to walk through the door and minute now. He was your world and best friend, and he always promised he’d come back. The officer that told your family didn’t know any of you, but you clung to him, preventing yourself falling to the ground. All you could scream between the sobs of your tears was “But he promised! He promised!” You relived that moment too many times to count, becoming numb to it.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t even realize you had arrived back to the compound until the car came to a stop. Mitch had parked the car in front of your cabin. It was past midnight now, and all you could think about was passing out in bed after the chaotic day you’ve had. Mitch shot you a smile, and you returned it. You started to get out of the car realized he would have to walk back the five miles to the recruits sleeping quarters. “Do you want me to drive you back?”

“No. I can walk.” He seemed genuine in his answer.

“Are you sure? It’s five miles. I don’t mind.” You were annoyingly persistent.

“I can walk.” He wore a crooked smile that hung down in the corners. You nodded and agreed to let him walk the distance. He leaned against the driver side door as he watched you walk to the house and fumble in your bag for your keys. Once you got them in the door and unlocked it, you opened the way, but looked back just as he was turned and started his trek.

“Mitch,” He turned back on his heels, hands in his pockets. “Do you wanna come inside?” You bit your bottom lip, debating if inviting him in was a good idea. He shifted his wait between his feet as he considered the offer. Your heart leapt, filling you with butterflies as he started towards you and the door. You couldn’t be bothered with hiding the smile on your face, but his was still wary. You stepped to the side to allow him access, and he slipped past. You came in behind him, closing and locking the door before you flipped the light switch.

The cabin wasn’t huge, but relative to a small apartment. You had a kitchen with enough space for a small table. There was a sitting area when you first walked in with room for a loveseat and tv. Then there was your bedroom, which consisted of a queen bed, closet, and a dresser. The bathroom had two doors, one that connected to the sitting room and another to your bedroom.

“Do you want something to drink?” You offered the timid man. He stood awkwardly, keeping his eyes to the floor, his hands still in his pockets. You were quiet and less extroverted than usual too, but that was probably from being up for almost 24 hours plus the toll of the aftermath of the night terror.

“Sure.” You put your things down on the table and grabbed two beers from the fridge, popping off their lids with the blade of your pocket knife you just pulled out. Mitch laughed in his chest.

“What? You never know when you’ll need a blade.” You smiled as you walked over and handed him a beer. He just smiled and nodded in agreement. You moved over to sit on the couch, but Mitch continued to stand there like a clueless idiot. “Are you gonna sit or are you going to stand there all night?” You said sarcastically. He smiled, happy to see you being more yourself and moved towards the spot next to you. There wasn’t much space on the small two-seater, so when he sat, his weight shifted the cousins, creating a dip that pulled you towards him. Your legs and arms touching. You smiled hesitantly, and took a swig of your drink. You both sat there, speechless, occasionally taking sips of your beers.

After too many minutes of agonizing silence, you pulled your legs in and turned to face Mitch. “I just wanted to say...thank you...for earlier.” He smiled and nodded. “And what you told me...you didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” His eyes became dark and he smirked, remembering the moment. You reached out and cupped his face, meeting your foreheads. You leaned against him with your eyes closed, letting his breaths wash over your lips. You opened your eyes after a moment and his were already wide. He looked at your eyes, and then darted to your lips for a brief moment before returning to your gaze. Your heart jumped as you licked your bottom lip. Your faces moved closer together, your lips close enough to touch. You both sat there, breaths mixing, for what felt like forever. Neither would make the next move, closing the barely existent space between your lips.

As if on cue, your reasoning kicked in and told you a million reasons why this would be a bad idea. You gulped, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I….I should….” Your voice croaked, your throat dry as a bone, as your lips brushed his with their movements.

“Yeah. You should.” He panted back, breathless. You yearned for his lips, his touch, his taste. Everything inside you screamed and wanted to kiss him, feel him, love him. Something inside you was raging and if you let it loose, you feared you wouldn’t be able to tame it. He made you feel alive and fearless, like you could be free of all your pain and sorrow. He was the light you had been looking for at the end of the tunnel and it was finally in your grasp. Despite everything you were feeling, and all your impulses, you stood up from the couch. You almost fell over as you lifted, flushed and clammy.

Mitch almost looked disappointed when you looked back, but his chest was heaving, begging for oxygen. He had been holding his breath without realizing. His face was pale and his eyes a different shade you hadn’t seen before, full of desire and lust. You were pretty sure you were going to choke from then lump in your throat, so without any notice, you rushed to the bedroom, slamming the door behind you. You turned and slid your back down the closed entrance, sitting at its base as you processed the last six minutes.

You could hear Mitch on the other side of the door, shifting on the couch. You took a deep breath, filling your lungs and exhaling as you came down from your high, relaxing your muscles. After composing yourself, you changed into your pajama shorts and spaghetti-strap tank top. You grabbed an extra pillow and blanket from your bed and prayed Mitch hadn’t left yet. You creaked the door open, afraid of what you’d find on the other side. He jolted his head in your direction, hope in his eyes. “Um. I brought you a pillow and blanket. In case you wanted to sleep here.” He smiled and accepted them. You stood there, feeling vulnerable and fumbling your limbs. He stared, taking you in. You watched him watch you, his eyes raking over your body. The short booty shorts, revealing the bottom of your ass. The top that let your stomach peek out. Your nipples, hugged by the material of your shirt. The straps, clinging to your shoulders and begging to slide off.

“Fuck it.” He jumped off the couch and slammed you into his chest, your lips crashing instantly. It was a violent and passionate kiss, filled with desire and need. His tongue swirled with yours, teeth clashing as you both deepened your kiss. His hands roamed your body while yours clung to the cloth of his shirt. He squeezed your ass with both hands, eliciting a groan from your lips and smile on his. He picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he slammed you up against the wall. He balances you with his good arm while he used the other to slide under your top and cup your breast. He squeezed and kneaded your chest as his kisses flurried across your jaw and down your neck. He bit and sucked in the crevice as you let moans and whimpers escape into his ear. He came back up to your face, eyes full of lust and a devilish smile as he let you drop to your feet. He pulled off your top and dove in, taking in your nipple. He bit down lightly, letting his teeth graze the sensitive peak. He sucked and twirled his tongue until it was raw and red.

“Mitch...please.” You whimpered through wanton moans. He smiled at you, keeping eye contact as he slid down your stomach, leaving a trail of wet marks. He pulled down your shorts and panties, them pooling at your ankles. You stepped out and he threw them aside. He kissed up your thigh, brushing the sensitive skin with his scruff. He put a hand on either thigh, pushing them out to make more room for his mouth. He had the perfect view of your cunt and his face showed it. He licked a stripe through your folds, tasting your arousal. Your body jerked at the new sensation.

“Goddamn you’re wet, baby girl.” You looked down to him, begging with your eyes and biting your lower lip as your nails dug into the wall. He let out a small growl at your need for his touch and dove in, finding your clit with his tongue. He spelled out words that were unknown to you, sucking and nipping at your nub. He placed two fingers inside of you, scissoring and stretching your walls. The pressure in your stomach was past controlling and begged for release.

“Mitch.” His name danced on your tongue, escaping with breaths and moans. He could feel your walls tightening around his fingers and your clit throbbing against his tongue. He fastened the pace of his pumping digits, curling his fingers to hit the spot that you needed. You let out a whimper as your body shuddered and your orgasm coated his digits and mouth. He stood up, slipping each finger into his mouth, sucking off every bit of you. You’re eyes grew wide as you could feel your arousal burning again. He kissed you, shoving his tongue into your mouth. You pushed him off, gasping for breaths. “Fuck me.” He smiled devilishly as he pulled you to the couch. He bent you over the arm of the seat and smacked your ass, leaving a red print.

He ran a finger through your folds as he used his other hand to take off his pants. He then took off his shirt. He smacked your ass again, hard enough to leave a bruise, as he pumped himself in his fist. “You want me to fuck you, baby?” You whimpered, rubbing your thighs together to create some kind of friction as you moaned a yes to his question. He saw your legs and smacked your ass again in disapproval, eliciting another yelp from you. He rubbed his tip through your folds, coating it in your arousal that was now dripping down your thighs. Without warning, he slammed into you, causing you to scream and catch yourself as you lurched forward from the motion. You steadied and pushed back against his cock. He started relentlessly pounding into you, the sound of clapping skin filling the cabin. Your breaths matched his momentum, trying to keep up. His thrusts went deep and caused you to go weak in the knees. He pulled you up to his chest as he continued pounding, reaching new depths. He kissed and bit at your neck as he held your stomach in one hand and hip in the other, pushing you into him. You wrapped your arm back, tugging on his hair at the roots, making him grunt and growl.

Your soft screams started to become inaudible as you were reaching your climax. Mitch bit down hard on your shoulder, holding his own back as you came on his thick dick. Your body went limp in his arms and he pulled out, spinning you to face him. He helped you to the bed, where you fell on your back. He laid on top of you, kissing and licking the fresh teeth marks, then leaving a trail of new ones and purple spots. He laid between your legs and pushed himself in, slower than before. You gasped as he filled you, welcoming his cock. He pumped slow as he pushed a strand of matted hair from your face behind your ear. He looked at you as he thrusted, his hips meeting yours. This was different than before, less lustful and more sensual. You reached up and cupped his cheek as you wrapped your legs around his waist, meeting him with every movement. Your breaths heavy, mixing in the small space between your lips.

His focus was on you, and you alone. He watched as you moaned and writhed beneath him with every push and pull, the friction in you burning you to your core. He watched your lips and your eyes as they flew open and shut with all the different sensations running through you. He would come down and kiss you when your eyes were closed and your mouth open. They were desperate and full of a loving passion. The kind that consumed you and ate away until you could have the other person in their entirety. You gave yourself over to him in that moment. He was yours and you were his. “Mitch…” You spoke his name not out of pleasure, but out of need. When you said it, you weren’t actually saying his name, but something else. Something between lust and love. Something deep and with meaning. Something from the center of your soul that you didn’t know existed.

“I know.” He whispered back. Whatever it was you were trying to say, he understood and that was his way of saying it back. As his words left his lips, your coil broke, releasing everything that had built up. The desire, lust, pleasure, feelings, emotions. Everything you had felt for Mitch up to this point flooded out of you. It was a new kind of high that you had never felt before, and it left you feeling full and on fire. Mitch followed suit as he met his release. He kept your gaze as he whispered your name. He kissed your lips, twitching inside you as he rode out his high. He laid atop you, exhausted and drained. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed the top of his head. You could feel his lips turn upward against your chest. He didn’t move, just laying there, listening to your heartbeat and sounds of your chest as it would rise and fall.

Taglist: @daisyxbuckley

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dylinski · 5 years

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Watch Me Bleed (9/?)

Warnings: VIOLENCE, DEATH, BLOOD, ANGST

Relationships: Mitch Rapp/Reader

Word Count: 4902

Author: @dylan-obrien-fanblog

A/N: This whole chapter is entirely from Mitch’s POV. Sorry it’s so long, but I just had a lot to put in there and didn’t want to break it up into two parts. I promise, all the chapters won’t be this long...unless that’s what you guys prefer. Please leave feedback! Tell me what you think or if you have any ideas. When you don’t give feedback it’s discouraging and makes me think that people aren’t reading it. Thank you to everyone who does though. I really appreciate all of you.

Chapter 9

Seven, eight, nine. Mitch had his back to the wall as bullets flew towards him from around the corner. Ten, eleven, twelve. The man shooting at him was using a Glock 19, which he knew held 15 rounds. Thirteen, fourteen. He hunkered down to wait until the assailant ran out of ammo and needed to reload. Mitch was too smart to waste his ammo on the man when he knew he couldn’t get a good shot. Fifteen. Now was his chance. As soon as the shot was fired, he rounded the corner, his Glock 17 already aimed. He squeezed the trigger twice, hitting the man perfectly between the eyes and in his heart. Keeping the gun up, he swept the room for any other threats. He ran through the doors that the dead man was guarding and hugged the walls as he made his way down the corridor. A man walked through a door right before he passed it, but Mitch shot him in the temple before he could register his presence there.

He reached the end of the hallway and found the double doors that led to the office of the man he had been sent to kill. He leaned against the door and could hear an old gruff voice yelling at someone to protect him. The sound of multiple guns being cocked that sounded like automatic rifles were muffled through the wood. Those would pose a problem if he stormed in and he knew they most likely had their guns trained on the doors, waiting for him to breach them. He scrunched his nose, annoyed at this and the fact that he didn’t know how many men were on the other side. He let his clip slip out and he counted how many rounds he had left, eight. Hopefully that would be enough. He pushed the clip back into its place and cocked the gun, then shoved it into his waistband at the small of his back. He went back a couple feet to where he shot the man in the temple. He searched his body and found a knife that he shoved in his boot. He picked the man up and dragged him to the door where the office was. He lifted him up so that he was shielding his body and then shot off the handle of the door. seven. He heard a woman scream from the other side of the door from the gunshot as he kicked the door open and shrunk behind the lifeless body.

Bullets instantly flew across the room as the door flung open. The men weren’t specifically aiming at him, but in his general direction as they unloaded their clips, bullets flying past Mitch and some hitting the corpse he was holding. It was pointless to count their rounds since they were firing them without fault. When he heard the click of the empty barrels, he threw the body to the side and immediately saw the two men in front of him. He shot the one to his right through the eye, six, and then aimed for the head of the man to his left, five, but he jumped out of the way just before the bullet pierced his skull. He flew to his left on the floor and slid a couple inches as he pulled a pistol from his waistband. Mitch jumped to his right and pulled the body on top of himself before the man got off the first shot. He fired six times and then Mitch peeked around the dead man's shoulder and shot in the other man's general direction, four. He got him in the shoulder and heard his screams when the bullet tore through his muscle. He pushed the body off as the man was distracted by the pain and shot him in the head, three, his shouts instantly silenced. He stood to his feet and swept the room. A woman was crying in the corner and started screaming when he pointed his gun at her. She was no threat, just a prostitute, so he turned his gun to face the target. He was an old fat man that was made of money. He sat in a chair at his desk and Mitch walked around it and pushed him away from it with his foot, keeping the barrel of the gun trained at the man’s nose.

“Please! Please! Do you want money? I have money!” The man pleaded with him, his hands raised in surrender. He searched Mitch’s face for falter or some semblance of humanity, but he found none. He stared at the criminal with a blank face, void of any conscience or morality. He terrified the man and knew he was here to kill him. The man continued to plead, but he was cut off by the sound of a bullet leaving the chamber, two, one. Both shots between the eyes, leaving a hole about the size of a quarter in his skull. He turned and saw the woman cowering as he shoved the empty glock into his waistband behind him, but ignored her as he left before backup or the police could arrive.

Mitch moved through the shadows of the night as he made his way back to the safe-house, changing routes to make sure he wasn’t being followed. After about an hour of going in circles, he deemed it safe and headed back but when he reached the door his senses lit up and the hair raised on the back of his neck. He went to grab his gun, but remembered it was empty, so he kneeled down slowly and slid the knife out of his boot. If the person inside had a gun, they would aim for his chest, so he stayed low, squatting so that the shooter wouldn’t expect it. He reached up and slowly turned the knob, then flung the door open and rolled forward into the room. The man inside jumped to his feet and pulled a gun but was well trained and immediately aimed it down at Mitch. He was fast, but Mitch was faster as he threw the knife up to the mans chest. The man with the gun had good reflexes so he jumped to the side, barely escaping its impact. “What the fuck Mitch?”

Mitch looked up with wide eyes surprised to see his handler, Stan Hurley. He stood up and rolled his eyes as he threw the gun on the bed in front of him. “What do you want?” He spat out, paying no mind to the man as he took the gun apart to dispose of later and make it less traceable.

“I have a mission for you.” Mitch stopped what he was doing and looked at the older man without moving his head. He gave him questioning eyebrows. It was unusual for Stan to show up to a safe house and even more unusual for him to be given two missions at the same time.

“Another mission? I haven’t finished this one yet.” “Is he dead?” Stan was blunt and annoyed.

“Yes.”

“Then it’s finished.” Mitch opened his mouth to respond but was cut off before sound left his lips. “His name is Rinaldo Askin.” Mitch returned to gathering his stuff and cleaning the place down while Stan went on. “He’s a mobster in Philadelphia.” Mitch froze again, his back facing Stan which he was thankful for. That’s where Y/N had been living for the past year. He had been keeping tabs on her since the day he left her alone in that bed, something that had come to be one of his very few regrets. “He’s the worst of the worst. Real piece of shit if you know what I mean.” Mitch turned around and nodded in agreement as he walked over to Stan. He threw the manila folder on the bed that sat between the two of them and Mitch leaned over to pick it up. As he skimmed through it, he sat down on the bed. “And Mitch, this one’s off the books.”

Mitch looked up at Stan, slightly amused, “They’re all off the books.” He shot him a crooked smile that he knew would piss Stan off. He shot darts at Mitch for his snarky comment, but otherwise ignored it.

“It’s a twelve hour train ride to Philly and this needs to be done in the next 48. So get your shit together. Here, take this.” He handed him what looked like a locker key and then marched out of the safe-house and left Mitch to mull over the file that told him of the man’s crimes, known associates, enemies, places of operation, and any other intel that had been accumulated and deemed important. After he memorized and learned everything he could, he tossed it in a metal trash bin and threw in a match. He watched as the paper became engulfed in the flames and danced against the metal.

He took a quick shower and got dressed, then left after he finished wiping down the rest of the room. He disposed of each part of the Glock 17 in different places as he made his way to the train station. He found the locker number that matched the key and found a small black duffel bag. He unzipped it and found another glock, two clips, a drivers license, and some cash. He zipped it back up, and pulled it out, slinging it over his shoulder. He wasted no time getting a ticket and boarding the next available train. He didn’t like that he had such a small time frame to do the job, but he would get it done nonetheless.

He found his seat and sat down, figuring he would try to sleep for at least a couple hours before he arrived. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually slept well. Irene and Stan had him running around on jobs non-stop for the last year, not that he was complaining. He had nothing outside of this life and needed the distraction. This was what he was good at, killing the scum of the earth and if he was completely honest, he liked it too. The feeling of taking a life, having that power and playing God was like a drug. The rush of the hunt and then the release of the kill. He wasn’t a sociopath, but when it came to killing these men, he felt no remorse.

Mitch found his mind running a million miles a minute, unable to settle and find a moment of sleep. He gave up and let his thoughts consume him. He thought about Y/N and how it had been four months since he last saw her. She had gotten a job at a hospital in the city as an ER doctor, he watched her as she crossed the parking lot holding a coffee, keeping his eyes locked on her until she vanished into the building. He smiled as he took in her beauty, remembering her scent and the taste of her lips. He caught himself biting his bottom lip and a heat rising in him. He threw the thoughts from his mind, feeling guilty about it all.

Stan had told him he was being sent on his first mission, and he thought nothing of it. He called down to Y/N and had her come meet the two of them to tell her that he needed to be taken to a hospital for an x-ray. She seemed to be pissed and it amused him. She was different and filled him with curiosity. He had never spoken to her before the last 24 hours, but he learned to read her like a book that he had committed to memory. She bothered him, but in a good way, something about her that he couldn’t figure out and it nagged at him. During their trip, he purposefully bugged her, knowing he was getting under her skin. For some reason, when he was with her he felt whole and a burning fire in him. Before her and when she wasn’t around he held nothing but anger, contemptment, and a constant lingering of agony. She was like a beacon of light that washed out the darkness in his soul. He had his fun with her and they had good moments too, but when she woke up screaming and jumped out of the car, that’s when it changed. He had no plans of following through on his feelings that he chalked up to lust and hormones, but when he found her in the field, nothing but a mess all he could see was her beauty behind all her pain.

He could tell she was hurting, and that made him hurt too. He hated that her pain wasn’t someone he could kill to rid her of the torment. In that moment, all he could do was hold her and give her what he so desperately craved himself but never received. This woman put him on edge and saw parts of him that others couldn’t, but now he saw her and wanted nothing more than to fix it. While he had been attempting to get under her skin, she had wormed her way under his, and now he couldn’t deny it. She didn’t seem to want to talk about what was wrong and he could only respect that, having his own crosses to bear. He felt safe with her, so for the first time he opened to someone; he opened up to her. Others had known what happened to him from reports and his files, but he had never told a soul what happened from his own lips. What he went through, what he saw.

When he bared his heart, it cemented a connection to her that he knew he would always have. He no longer had a desire to annoy or pester her but a longing for her; to know and understand her. That’s when it sunk in, he was leaving in the morning. There was no point in beginning something that wouldn’t have a chance to start, but both of them were unaware it already had⎯the moment they met everything had been set into motion, everything that had been, that was, and had yet to be. He had no intention of pursuing it, but then she offered him to come inside. His head and instincts all screamed to turn around and keep walking, but his heart cried for him to go to her. He was tired of following his rules and living with the darkness, so he denied all his inclinations and went inside towards the light.

The air was thick around them, tensions high after everything that had occurred over the last 24 hours. He found himself centimeters away from her lips on the couch, his skin on fire and begging for her touch to release the anxiety in his muscles. He could feel her breath ghost across his lips, the scent of beer and peppermint. She shot up from the couch and ran to her room, leaving him yearning for her warmth but he knew it was for the best. That damn girl just had to come back in, wearing those short shorts and the tank top that clung to her breasts. He used all of his strength to stave off his primitive impulses, but he couldn't take it. There was a fire raging in him that couldn’t be contained. When they connected, it was lust and desire at first, but it turned into something else; something between lust and love, something both of them never saw coming, something he knew would either drive them or destroy them.

After she fell asleep, it took everything in him to force himself out of that bed and away from her warmth. He always knew this moment was coming, but he relished in the time he had in between. Hopefully she would understand, move on and not waste her time on a lost soul like his. It was for the best because he could never give her what she needed. This road he had set himself on wasn’t going to lead to a happy ending and that’s all this woman deserved. He was a broken man, parts of him missing and she didn’t need that chaos in her life. He would never admit it to anyone and didn’t know it himself, but leaving her hurt almost as much as watching Katrina die. He had no intention of ever seeing her again, never touching her, kissing her...loving her.

Mitch finally found sleep and got six hours, giving him two before he arrived in the city. He found another file in the duffel bag and went over everything in it, telling him the location of the safe house as well as Askin’s itinerary for the next two days. When the train arrived, he took multiple taxis and then walked the rest of the distance to the safe house. He prepared for the mission, wearing dark jeans and a black tshirt so that he could easily go unseen. Before he headed to where Askin would be, he stopped by the hospital to check in on Y/N. The sun was starting to set and he could see her working in the ER through a large window. She was helping a patient and doing what she did best. He loved to see her in her element, it reminded him of when she would examine him and help with any injuries he got from training. She looked so tired though, yes physically but when he saw her eyes she looked exhausted from life. His smile melted away and he felt guilt, hoping he wasn’t the cause of this. He disappeared into the shadows and left to kill Rinaldo Askin.

When he arrived at Askin’s house, he did a sweep of the perimeter and found everything in the report he had been given to be accurate. There were six guards patrolling the grounds with pistols. If he timed it right, he would easily be able to slip past them and enter the house without being seen. According to what he read, the house was unguarded and empty with the exception of Askin, his wife, and two children. As long as he used the silencer, he could be in and out before anyone noticed. He memorized the patterns of the guards and found his opening, making his way to the back of the house to an entrance that gave access to a basement. The door was locked, but Mitch had a lock pick and managed to get the door open quickly. He slipped in, hidden by the lack of light. He pulled the glock from his waistband and switched off the safety, then proceeded to sweep the room.

He moved through the house silently and proficiently, clearing the basement and then the first floor. He climbed the stairs two at a time, constantly on high alert. When he reached the landing, he glided across the floor in large strides. He past an ajar door and peeked in, revealing the bedroom of a young boy that he remembered to be six years old. He passed a closed door that was painted pink which he assumed to be the bedroom of Askin’s daughter who was eight years old. He reached the end of the hallway and found an open door. Rounding the corner, he leaned through the door frame, peering into the large room. Askin was lying in his large bed with his wife, roughly eight feet from where Mitch stood. He took three large strides towards the foot of the bed and held the silenced gun up to aim at the man. He squeezed the trigger three times, hitting his body twice and his head once. It was hard to aim accurately with him under the comforter, so Mitch took the extra two shots in case.

He needed conformation of the kill, so he moved towards the side of the bed where the man slept. The closer he got, the more something didn’t feel right and the hairs on his arms stuck up like something in the air had changed. That’s when he could smell it, the scent of iron...of blood and lots of it; more than what could come from the three bullets he put into the man. He rolled the covers up and saw the sheets soaked in red, so he threw the rest of them off the bodies. Askin and his wife laid in their bed, lifeless and drenched in enough blood for two people who had bled out. The man looked like he had been shot at least seven times minus the three Mitch had given him. His wife had been shot four times, both of them receiving them in the chest and one each in the head.

A feeling arose in Mitch’s stomach, nothing he couldn’t handle but a sense of uneasiness. He didn’t like surprises or when plans had to change. He went to the corner of the room and tried to think of an explanation. Askin had plenty of enemies, but this was professional and resembled the same work that Mitch would leave behind. Someone had put a hit out on him, they must have. Mitch tensed as he heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, and he sprung into action. He hadn’t prepared for this, so he only had the one clip of seventeen rounds. He used three on Askin leaving him with fourteen. There was no need for the silencer at this point since they knew he was there, so he removed it since it would give him better accuracy. He ran over to the door and shutting and locking it, then ran over to the side of the bed facing away from the wall. Shit shit shit.

“They’re dead! Check on Askin and his wife!” He heard muffled shouts from the hall, but was confused by what they said. Who’s dead? Mitch hadn’t killed anyone else. The children. Horror grew on his face. They were the only other ones in the house. Mitch may have been a ruthless killer, but only of those who deserved it. What soulless bastard killed children?

“The door is locked!”

“Then break it down!” It sounded like there were at least five men outside the door by the number of footsteps. If they were the guards from outside they would only have their pistols which was a relief, but five was a lot even for Mitch. The sounds of someone ramming into the door echoed through the silent room. Mitch tightened the grip of his gun as he looked around for a better option. He faced a wall that was made entirely of glass that gave a perfect view of the grounds, but it was at least a twelve foot drop. He could make that, but not without serious injury and shattering the glass, alerting everyone of his location. It was looking like his best option was to face the men, but it was still a shitty option.

The man broke the door open and saw the bodies covered in blood, shouting back to the others that they were dead too. Mitch shot off a single bullet in his direction, thirteen, and they did exactly what he wanted them to do. They all retreated to the hallway except for the first one who entered. He had fallen to the ground, Mitch had shot him in the leg which the man shouted to the other men. Mitch shifted his body which ended up being a bad idea since the man on the floor saw his shadow and yelled to the others of his location. Two others walked in and started shooting from the other side of the bed along with the man on the floor. Most of the bullets hit the mattress, but Mitch still laid down on his stomach cowering under it. The three of them ran out of bullets and started reloading when the other two men entered and started emptying their clips as well. When they stopped, Mitch could see the man on the floor from under the bed, he aimed and shot him in the head, twelve. The other four men started shouting, saying they were going to rush him, assuming there was just one guy. This was it, his only other option is out the window. Mitch shot two of the men in their legs, eleven, ten, and then in the commotion shot the glass, nine. The window didn’t shatter, but it was cracked. The men were confused and took a minute to get it together. He jumped up and took the opportunity to shoot one of them in the head, eight. He ran towards the window and turned to shoot a couple more shots off as he jumped through, staggering the glass, seven, six. As he crashed through, he heard a shot go off from one of the men and then a piercing pain in his side. Mitch landed flat on his back, letting out a loud grunt as the wind was knocked from his lungs. He was covered in cuts and gashes from the glass when he went through and bruises from the landing. Hopefully he didn’t have any internal bleeding. He grabbed his side as he coughed and tasted blood in his mouth, that’s not good. He looked at his hand and saw it covered in blood, that’s definitely not good.

He heard the sound of more men running to his location and forced himself up. He moaned from the pain that seared through every muscle in his body. He limped as fast as he could, holding his right side with his left hand and his glock in the other. Men started shooting, so he threw his arm back as he tried running, shooting off aimless shots, five, four, three, two, one, click, click. He tossed the empty pistol on the ground and pushed himself to hightail it out of there. He kept running for at least five miles, something he could have easily done if he wasn’t in this condition but his lungs were on fire and his legs felt like they were going to give out any moment. He made it closer to the city and found an alleyway. He ran over to the side of a dumpster facing away from the road and leaned against the wall. It was hard for him to see from the blood running into his eyes from the cut above it. He wiped his face and winced as he brushed against the bruises and cuts. He looked down at his side and reached around to his back to feel for an exit wound. Nothing. He was in no shape or position to pull that thing out himself.

His legs started to become weak, so he slid down the wall keeping pressure on his wound. His thoughts were running wild. Who would have Askin and his whole family killed? His file said he had enemies, but none that were capable of that type of handywork. That was professional, surgical, and sadistic. Then is dawned on him. They weren’t the target...he was. Stan only had three rules: don’t get caught, don’t kill cops, and never kill innocents. If Mitch didn’t know about the other assassin, neither did Stan or Irene which would leave them to assume he was the one who killed all four of them and Askin’s men were witnesses to prove it. “FUCK.” Mitch shouted as another coughing fit followed. “Goddamn it.”

Mitch needed help, but going to a hospital was already dicey and now it was impossible. Orion would be on him in minutes and he needed to clear his name before they took him. He was a ghost, so they could do whatever they wanted to him, no judge or jury, no trial. Just Stan and Irene deciding his fate. They were both believers of evidence and what was in front of them, and right now everything damned him. He was still new to the game and had few contacts that would be willing to help and most of them were too far away to make it to him before he bled out. Without intending to do it, his mind drifted to Y/N. No, he can’t go to her for help. He would be dragging her into the middle of this, putting her life in danger and asking too much of her. He swore he would never see her again. This was the whole reason he had left her that morning in the first place, to keep her out of situations like this. Mitch threw his head back in pain as his adrenaline high came down and he could feel every part of his broken body. He started getting dizzy and noticed the pool of blood accumulating on the ground. He needed help now, or he was going to bleed out. Fuck, if he wants to live he has no choice. He used every last ounce of strength and will he had left and pulled himself up by clinging to the dumpster. He leaned against it, finding his balance and gasping for breath. He was only a couple blocks from where her apartment was. Hopefully she would be willing to help him, if he made it there first.

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#watch me bleed #mitch rapp #american assassin #vince flynn #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien

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dylinski · 5 years

Text

Watch Me Bleed (10/?)

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST, violence, death, language. all of these should be a given by now. implied rape (nothing happens though)

Relationships: Mitch Rapp/Reader

Word Count: 3244

Author: @dylan-obrien-fanblog

A/N: Listen to this for some feels. Headphones are recommended. This one is really angsty and you should be prepared for a lot of that in the future.

Chapter 10

It had been three days since Mitch showed up at your door and things had been painfully quiet. You waited for Mitch to reach out but he had disappeared again, leaving you behind and alone. Worry crept in and you began to fear that maybe something happened like his wound got infected or his injuries were worse than you had thought, maybe Irene found him. You had to fight all your impulses and remind yourself he wasn’t your problem, not anymore. Why should you help him anyways? Maybe he had all of this coming? You knew nothing about him aside from his medical records and the story of Katrina. For all you know, he could be a psychotic killer. You’d spent enough time thinking about him and relapsing, losing all the progress you made at hardening yourself towards him so you pushed the thoughts and feelings down. Preparing for your shift, you put on your scrubs, grabbed a thermos of coffee and your bag, then headed out to the hospital.

When you got to work, Daniel was already there and ready to talk your ear off the minute you walked through the door. Some nonsense about another doctor and nurse hooking up, the usual gossip that made its way through the building. Once you were on the floor and your shift officially started, you dragged along and drank cup after cup of coffee. You had the last two days off, but felt exhausted from the constant state or anxiety that coursed through your veins since the moment Mitch walked through your door. Thankfully, it was pretty quiet and the night was going smoothly. You had an average amount of patients come though, none that were too serious and were easily treatable. Halfway through your shift, the fatigue started to become more prevalent so you decided to use your lunch break to take a nap.

“Hey Dan, I’m gonna go to the sleep rooms to try and rest. You good?”

“All good here. You look like you could use it. If I need you I know where to find you.” He smiled and waved you off. No matter how annoying he was, he was still a sweetheart and meant well.

You made it to one of the open rooms and walked in ready to pass out, not even bothering with turning on the light. You laid down on the twin sized bed and let out a sigh as you closed your eyes and felt your muscles relax. The room was silent and you found comfort in that as you started to doze off. Your eyes sprung open and your veins turned to ice, terror consuming every atom in your body. Your immediate response was to elicit a scream, but it was held back by the large hand that clasped your mouth. A body was pressed against yours, holding you down as you tried to thrash underneath the weight.

“Shhh! They’ll hear you.” You stilled at the warmth of the voice and opened your eyes to see his brown ones staring back at you. You raised your eyebrows, questioning him and he slowly released his grasp over your lips.

“What the fuck Mitch?” You whisper-shouted at him. He looked unamused as he looked to the door, ignoring your accusatory tone. His features were serious and concentrated. He looked back down at you, his nose brushing against yours. He must have realized how close you both were because his entire body changed and became more relaxed. He tilted his head to the side and curled up the corner of his lips with sympathetic eyes. It looked as though he felt remorseful and apologetic. “Mitch…” You looked down, bringing attention to the fact that he was still lying on top of you.

“Oh shit. Yeah, sorry.” He jumped up and was timid, contrasting his previous state of control and confidence. He reached behind and rubbed the back of his neck as he looked to his feet.

“What are you doing here?” You were too tired and pissed to be anything but blunt. This asshole was really starting to get on your last nerve. His stature changed again, back to a sober face.

“We have to leave. It’s not safe here.”

“Not safe here—Mitch, what are you talking about?” You were irritated and didn’t even bother hiding it. Mitch took notice and peaked an eyebrow like your response was puzzling to him. He came back over to you where you were now, sitting on the edge of the bed, and he kneeled in front of you taking your hands in his. He looked up to you with worrisome eyes as he curled in his lips.

“I tried. I tried so hard to keep you out of this, but somehow they found out about you, Y/N. I got you into this mess and I’m going to get you out of it, but right now I need to protect you. I need to take you somewhere safe.” So many things about what he just said left you with more questions than before. You searched his face like it would reveal all the answers, but he sighed and stood up realizing you didn’t understand.

“First, I have so many questions. Second, who is they? What mess? What happened? Why am I not safe?” You trailed off and he started pacing across the floor and it made you even more uneasy than before. Mitch looked worried and that made you worried. “Mitch, what did you do?” He stopped in his tracks and thought about it for a second, then turned back and leaned down putting a hand on either side of you against the mattress. He looked deep into your eyes and pulled his bottom lip back between his teeth.

“That’s the thing. I didn’t do anything.” Just when you thought you couldn’t be any more confused, he proved you wrong. He stood up and you threw your hands in the air declaring defeat. You were about to speak when you heard cautious footsteps outside of the door. Mitch ran over and kneeled in front of you, covering your mouth with his hand again.

“Really?” You said through his palm and rolled your eyes, but he jerked his head towards you shooting darts and giving you a look that screamed ‘shut up.’ He looked back to the door and pulled you up to meet him. His expression was a mix of fear and anger, contorting his face into an unfamiliar shape. He cupped your cheeks with both his hands and held you in his gaze, his eyes betraying his serious face.

“Do you trust me?” All you could do was nod, your heart racing in your chest as you feared it would rip through. The door flew open and men poured in with guns and masks. You could immediately tell they weren’t military, but they moved like they were, with order and precision. Mitch fell to his knees and raised his hands up in surrender, you could do nothing but follow his motions. Your heart stopped and you held your breath, trying to process exactly what was happening. Who were these people? Are they going to actually kill you? Five of them piled into the room and then the door was shut behind them. The one who appeared to be in charge came over to Mitch and looked him over, the only thing visible through his mask were his eyes. Another man pointed a gun to Mitch’s head and he shot darts at the person behind the gun. The leader walked over to where you were and kneeled down as he was inches from your face.

You were shaking and Mitch looked over and grunted when the man brushed the back of his hand across your cheek. You shut your eyes and gritted your teeth, holding back tears that were blurring your sight. “Take him, they want him alive.” The man with the gun grabbed Mitch’s arm and pulled him up while another came to his other side. He pulled from them, but their grip was too tight. As they were taking him to the door, the leader continued. “I’ll be out in ten.” You opened your eyes and stared straight into his soulless eyes. The mask covered his face but you knew he was wearing a devilish smile underneath and you knew exactly what he was planning to do.

Mitch’s blood started boiling at the menacing words of the man and it was all he needed to fight back. He screamed as he ripped away from the grip of one of them men holding him. He dropped to the floor, pulling a knife from his boot and stabbed it into the side of the man's leg where his knee was and Mitch pulled it out at an angle, destroying the tendon. He plunged it into the other man's thigh and then slashed his throat when he fell to the ground. A third man pulled out his gun with a silencer and shot at him, but Mitch used the body of the man on the floor to shield him. He grabbed the gun from the man who was now dead’s holster and shot the third man in the head. He rolled and shot the fourth man in his head as well before he could react.

The leader was holding you as a shield, holding his gun to your head and Mitch kept his weapon trailed on the man in case he gave him an opening. One of the men behind him gurgled, so without hesitating or taking his eyes off you, he shot the man and then put the gun back in your direction. There was no point in holding the tears back now, whimpers escaped your lips and you just kept shaking your head and whispering to yourself. “No, no, I can’t die like this. I don’t want to die.” The man holding you let out a maniacal laugh, as though he didn’t fear death or had no doubts of his abilities against Mitch.

“Let her go.” Mitch spat through gritted teeth, looking like it was taking everything in him not to tear the man apart. You had only ever seen this look in his eyes once before, when he talked about how he would kill the men who killed Katrina. After seeing what he just did, you had no doubt in your mind that he could. His face was turning red from rage and he tightened his grip around the gun. The man pulled you closer to his body in response, causing a pathetic noise to escape your lips. For a brief second Mitch looked at you with pity, but he didn’t stay there long, returning his gaze of fury to the bastard holding you hostage.

You could see the wheels turning in his head, trying to figure out what his best options were. He gave you a look and you knew what he wanted you to do. You wiggled slightly underneath the man’s grip, making his hold uncomfortable and causing him to shift his weight. He exposed his foot and Mitch took advantage, shooting it. He threw you away from him in pain and you landed on the bed, crawling up it and as close to the wall as you could. Mitch lunged at the man and punched him in the face. The man shouted and threw a punch back, reopening the gash above Mitch’s eye. The man threw another punch but Mitch ducked down and pushed him back, knocking him down and spinning around until he was on top of him. His rage took over as he relentlessly pounded into the mans face, long after he was unconscious. It occurred to you that he was going to have a severe brain injury soon if he didn’t already.

“Mitch!” You shouted and he hesitated with his fist in the air. He turned to look at you and his teeth were clashing, his eyes full of fire and fury that sent a chill down your spine. You stared back with wide eyes in horror and he let his arm drop down to his side as he stood up. He ran over to you without saying a word, grabbed your wrist and pulled you off the bed and out of the room. “Mitch...what just…” He pulled you through the corridors of the hospital and you realized he was taking you to the back entrance through the basement. He knew exactly where he was going, like he had been in the building before. You stopped and ripped your hand from his grip. He swung around and looked at you, jutting his jaw out as he cornered you against the wall and he slammed his palm against it while shouting past your ear. He lost control over his rage and it was coursing freely through his veins. All you could do was look back at him horrified, tears accumulating in your eyes again. “Mitch…” you whispered.

His face immediately changed back the one you knew of pain and regret as he backed away until his back hit the wall parallel to you. His head fell and he whimpered as he spoke. “I’m sorry.” A part of you wanted to run to him, throw your arms around him and comfort him, but your instincts were telling you to be cautious and fear this man. You just saw him flawlessly and ruthlessly take out five armed men with nothing but a knife. He killed them, all of them. You had always known he was capable of such things, but seeing him doing it, cementing that idea and it becoming a reality was different. He was everything you were against. You were a doctor who swore and oath to do no harm, to save lives despite who the life belonged to, bring health and heal. This man was a trained killer, a grim reaper, the bringer of death and destruction.

He looked up at you and tears were falling down his cheeks. You had seen his eyes water once before, but this was different. He was hurting and this was his way of begging for help. You lifted your hand slightly from the wall you were clinging to and Mitch noticed. His body timidly raised from the wall in hopes that you were coming to him, but when you let your hand fall back down to your side, defeat covered his face. He wiped his eyes and hardened his features as he walked over to you and took your wrist again. “We’re leaving.” He spoke harshly without looking at you as he pulled you along again. It wasn’t a question or a suggestion, but an order that you had no choice in.

You made it out of the building and he let your hand drop as he neared a car. He turned his back to it and rammed his elbow into the glass window where a person would sit behind the driver. The noise made you jump, causing you to recognize the trauma the last twenty minutes had caused you. You gulped as Mitch’s face remained hard and he walked back over to where he left you, motionless and frozen, and he pulled you over to the car and put you in the passenger seat. He walked around and got into the driver's seat, leaned down and pulled out some wires. He found the ones he was looking for and twisted them together as the engine roared to life.

You were petrified and couldn’t move, your body and mind still as the world continued on without you. Mitch pulled out of the empty parking lot and started towards the highway. Your mind started hurling questions at you. What the fuck is happening? What the fuck just happened? Where was he taking you? Was this your life now? Could you even trust Mitch? Were you going to die? You closed your eyes and swallowed a deep breath as tears made a steady stream down your cheek. Mitch seemed oblivious to your state as he focused on the road. You opened your eyes and couldn't help but notice how obscenely fast he was driving, weaving in and out of traffic flawlessly.

“Mitch, I need you to pull over.” He ignored you, his jaw jutting out and his nose scrunched up. “Mitch, please.” He squinted his eyes at your voice but still refused to rip his eyes from the road. “MITCH STOP THE FUCKING CAR.” You screamed and he looked to you, shooting daggers and pulled his lips in with anger as he veered the car off the road. As soon as it stopped, you jumped out and ran a good distance from it. Your memories flew back to the night Mitch ran to you in the field, but this was different...he was different. He was still sitting in the car, his hand holding his chin while his other tapped impatiently on the steering wheel. You stood there on the side of the highway, holding your stomach as tears ran down while listening to the sound of cars passing by.

He finally got out of the car and stalked over to you. “We need to go.”

“No!” You screamed at him as you tore away from his grasp. He bore a hole into you as he widened his eyes. He was angry with you, but you couldn’t figure out why for the life of you. You’re the one who should be angry, he has no right to treat you like this. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck is going on!” He closed his eyes and turned to the side as he put his hands on his hips. He took a minute to compose himself and think of the right words to say.

“Look, I will tell you everything okay? But right now we need to go. They’re not far behind us.”

“Who are ‘they’?” You shouted, not even trying to hold your temper.

Mitch couldn’t hold his anymore either as he faced you and screamed, “I DON’T KNOW!” You retreated back and fell into yourself, scared the man would hurt you. He immediately recognized his mistake and took a few steps back himself. It dawned on you that he wasn’t actually mad at you like you had thought, but mad with what was going on, mad at himself. You tugged at your bottom lip with your teeth and hesitantly walked up to him. You lightly let your fingers fall onto his arm and he looked back up to you with pain and fear. He grabbed you and pulled you into his chest as he squeezed you so tight it almost hurt. You wrapped your arms around his waist and he nuzzled his face into your neck.

You were the one to break the embrace, still uncomfortable from the recent events and Mitch could tell. He let go and stepped back, giving you some space. “Will you please come back to the car?” His tone had changed and was more sincere and offering. All you did was nod, fearing your voice would only stir his anger again. You followed him back into the car and you both continued on in silence. With everything that had happened, you were physically and emotionally drained so it wasn’t long before you couldn’t hold sleep back anymore. You drifted off to the sight of streetlamps passing by.

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dylinski · 5 years

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TBWTBE (4/?)

Warnings: SMUT, Oral (male receiving), Angst, Language (i think), your typical derek brooding angsty shit.

Relationships: Derek Hale/Kate Argent

Word Count: 2847

Author: @dylan-obrien-fanblog

A/N: I know this series is going slow, its agonizing for me too, but I need to lead up to the big parts. not many feed back is always welcome, good or bad. Honestly, i’ve gotten basically no feedback, so more than anything im writing this for me. GO ME.

Chapter 4

Derek sulked around the house with his head hung as his cousins played cheerfully. The twins ran up to him on either side, standing to his waist and tugged on his shirt begging him to play with them. “Leave me alone.” The dark haired boy shrugged them off as he grunted. When they refused to loosen their grip, he growled at them, causing them to scream as they ran away. Talia immediately locked her gaze on her son and pulled in her brows, giving him a stern look.

“Derek, you do not speak to your cousin’s like that nor do you growl at them. We are werewolves, not animals.” Derek shot his mom a look of annoyance as he rolled his eyes. Without hesitation, she shifted from mother to alpha. She shot up from where she was seated and gave Derek a look that caused him to shrink in size, cowering before the alpha.

The boy looked up at her with deep green eyes, full of pain and she let the alpha melt away as she became his mother again. “Derek,” she whispered as she caressed his sorrowful face. “You’ve been walking around this house for almost a week now with this atrocious behavior. Talk to me my child.”

Derek averted his eyes from his mother, unwilling to reveal any reason to his behavior. He pulled his face away from her touch, immediately feeling guilty at the motion. He didn’t look to see her reaction, but she knew it was one of disappointment, in him and his reluctance to talk to her. He walked away from her before she could see the tears starting to fill his eyes. “If you won’t talk to me, please talk to someone. You can’t let this eat away at you the way Paige did.”

Derek stopped in his tracks, eyes wide, as his mother spoke to his back. He raised his head and held his breath. This was the first time his mother had spoken to him about her since the cellar. Lost in his thoughts, he lost all his strength towards holding back his tears as they began to fall down his face. He ran to his room to hide from her words and the world.

He curled up into a ball in his bed as he tried to escape the thoughts that were now flooding him. His memories of Paige that had fallen to the back of his mind since he met Kate. It was like reliving the whole story again. When he saw her for the first time in the hallway while playing basketball with his friends. Seeing her play cello when she thought she was alone. The first time they kissed under the stars. Her snarky comments towards him. The way she didn’t put up with his bullshit and told him what she thought without hesitation.

Then his mind drifted, without his consent, to the sound of her heart racing as she ran through the halls of the school from the alpha who attacked her. Her screams when he bit her. The black blood that seeped from everywhere while she laid dying in his arms. Her cries of agony that he couldn’t alleviate. Her begging him to take her life and-- Derek slammed his eyes shut, pulling his legs in closer to his chest. He screamed, trying to shut out her death. He opened his eyes and laid there, gasping for breaths between sobs. His face covered in tears and snot, his face puffy and red. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve as he sat up, collecting himself from the attack of emotions and sat at the edge of the bed, looking at his feet.

His mother had been right. He needed to talk to someone, but he had no one to talk to. No one outside of his mother and Peter knew he was the cause of Paige’s death, but neither of them would understand what he went through, the part of his soul that was taken when he took her life. Not only could he not talk to them about Paige, but he couldn’t talk about Kate either. Peter would tell his mother and she would order him not to see her anymore. Yeah, he was 16 and she was 22, but it was different with her. They just don’t understand.

Derek’s phone buzzed on his desk, springing him back to reality. Sniffing and then wiping the snot from his nose, he stood up and walked over to answer the phone. He saw that it was Kate, and where he normally would have been ecstatic to hear from her, he felt melancholy. He took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and answered the phone as best he could.

“Hello.” His voice rasped as he spoke, revealing the soreness and that tears still lingered in his eyes.

“Hey stranger.” Kate spoke in her smooth, seductive voice. The sounds immediately bringing warmth to Derek, filling the emptiness he had been feeling only a second ago. She heard the hoarseness of his voice, but ignored it. “I’ve missed you, handsome. Wanna come over and play some more poker?”

“Um, yeah. Sure.” Kate was not unaware of his lack of enthusiasm. While Derek did want to see her, he also wanted to escape the lingering sadness and reminders of his room and family. Kate allowed him to escape from this world he found himself in. He slipped out of the house while everyone was getting ready to eat dinner. He hopped on his bicycle and then headed for Kate’s cabin.

What would have taken a human about 45 minutes to bike took him 20. The lights were on inside, but that was no surprise. The sun was starting to set, giving the sky an orange tint that broke through the trees. He walked up to the door and knocked, then shoved his hands in his pockets to hide his sweaty palms. Kate answered the door, wearing jeans and a spaghetti-strap tank top. His eyes gave her a once over, her cleavage not going unnoticed. She caught his gaze and smiled devilishly at the boy. “Come on in.” She stepped aside, allowing him to enter. He kept his head down as he did, hiding his embarrassment.

She asked him if he wanted a beer and derek accepted. He really didn’t want one and it was pointless since it would have no effects, but he didn’t want the woman to ask questions. What sixteen year old boy wouldn’t say yes to a beer? He sat down at the same table as before, the cards already sitting in a stack on its surface.

She handed him the beer, another in her hand for herself, and sat down in the chair sideways, using the chair’s back as an armrest. She gave to boy a crooked smile as she took a swig from the bottle. “So.” Her voice echoed through the small space. She turned in the chair to face the boy and leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “What’s new with my brooding boy?”

Derek furrowed his thick brows, immediately glaring at the woman and shot back in a loud voice, “I don’t brood.” She raised her eyebrows causing him to relax his face. His cheeks turned red as he realized he was, in fact, brooding. She laughed and shook her head at him as she picked up the cards and started to shuffle.

“You need to lighten up kid. Relax and have some fun.” Derek raised his eyebrows to her, interested in her ideas. He desperately wanted to, but somewhere along the way he’d forgotten how. Kate flashed a cheshire grin that sent chills down the boy’s spine. “I have an idea.” She spoke in a deeper and more mischievous tone than Derek had heard her use before. “Let’s play strip poker.”

Derek’s face went flush and his body froze at the suggestion. He must have looked sickly because concern covered Kate’s face, a look he had never seen on her before. He shook the cobwebs from his head and answered. “Yeah.” He hadn’t realized what he said until it was too late to take it back.

His cheeks were flushed and he couldn’t look Kate in the eye. She found this amusing, to see him writhe and wriggle in discomfort under her thumb. She began to deal the cards out as Derek thought to himself that this is really happening.

His wolf howled at him, telling him this was a bad idea, but his raging hormones proved to be superior. He took the cards that sat in front of him and began what he knew would be a long night.

———

“Full house,” Derek laid his cards out in front of him in confidence. Kate raised her brow and smiled deceptively. Dread fell over him as he knew what was coming.

“Royal flush, baby.” She winked at him as he threw his arms back and groaned. Derek then proceeded to remove his jeans. As he stood there in nothing but his boxers, Kate looked him over as she bit her bottom lip. For some reason, this made Derek want to cover himself, like she was a wolf eyeing her prey. He sat back down quickly to hide himself behind the chair.

“How come you haven’t lost a single game?” Derek asked sincerely. Suddenly he furrowed his brows, “Are you cheating?” His accusations were hard and cold. Kate laughed.

“Here,” she stood up and removed her top, revealing a pink laced bra. “Better?” She looked down at him seductively with hazel eyes. Derek couldn’t believe his eyes. He didn’t mean to stare, but shock left him useless and unable to move. He finally averted his eyes when he could feel pressure building in his boxers.

He turned to face the table and kept his eyes down. Kate sat back down at her seat and rested her face on her hand. “Don’t be shy, Derek. It’s okay.” Her voice wasn’t soft or sweet, but it was relieving. He slowly turned his head to meet her, but looked at her face the entire time. “You act like you’ve never seen a naked girl before.”

Derek blushed as he shook his head, “I haven’t.” He spoke under his breath, barely audible. Kate sat back and let her mouth fall open in amazement. She stood up and grabbed Derek’s wrists, pulling him up in front of her. Derek stood two inches above Kate. Her eyes turned black as she took a step away and wrapped her arms around her back. She unhooked her bra, letting the straps fall down her arms until the garment hit the floor. Derek bit his bottom lip and felt the pressure rising again.

Kate stepped forward and grabbed Derek’s right hand and put it on her left breast. He swallowed the lump in throat as he took in her peaks and valleys. Her hand still holding his, she squeezed, prompting him to do the same. Kate bit her lip and let it slide through her teeth. Derek took his other hand and placed it on the lonely breast. He gave both of them a good squeeze and looked back to Kate. She was giving her all too familiar seductive smile. “I’m guessing you’ve never touched a girl before either.” She asked, and Derek shook his head. “So that means your a virgin.” Even though it wasn’t a question, he still nodded yes. “Have you ever done anything?” Derek looked back up again at her face and looked embarrassed for his lack of experience.

“My girlfriend would sometimes rub me through my pants. And we made out a lot, but that was all.” He looked down to the floor, ashamed. Kate took her hand under his chin and lifted it up. She looked into his eyes, studying him and then brought his face to her lips. They touched for a moment and then parted. Derek looked at her for a moment, then the wolf took over, like a primal instinct. He grabbed Kate’s head with both his hands, pulling it towards him, smashing his lips against hers. She responded by pulling his body into hers. She wrapped her arms around the boy and clawed at his skin, leaving trails.

Derek parted his lips to take a breath, but Kate took the opportunity and pushed her tongue through the opening. They explored each other’s mouths, entangling their tongues. She guided the boy to the couch and then broke from his lips. She pushed him down with a growl and stood, towering over him. She looked down to see his fully erect cock begging to escape. Kate licked her lips and eased herself down until her weight was balanced on the balls of her feet. She slid her hands slowly up his thighs until they reached his waistband. Her touch alone was enough to send him over the edge.

She tugged on the material, allowing the firm member to spring free. She smiled, pleased with what she saw. The boy’s jaw dropped at the feeling of freedom. She palmed his stomach and blew air on him as her hands made their way down the trail of hair. She wrapped her hand around his cock and pumped it twice. She used her thumb to swirl the precum that had beaded at his slit. She pumped him a few more times before she kissed his tip. She licked the spot she just kissed, swirling her tongue in circles around his sensitive spot. He threw his head back in pleasure and Kate took that moment to take him entirely into her mouth. The surprise caused his body to shake. He looked back at her and they kept eye contact as she pulled back slowly on the shaft. As she reached the head of his cock, she scraped him with her teeth, stirring the wolf and releasing a growl.

He wanted the feeling of her mouth again, so he grabbed the back of her head, urging her forward. Almost instantly she reached back and took his hand, slamming it on his knee. Derek was surprised, but found the dominance even more arousing. She chuckled at his response, sending vibrations up is cock and into his stomach where his release was hanging on by a thread. She bobbed on his cock a few more times before his body began to shudder, signaling his release. She leaned back and told him to cum on her tits. He obliged, standing up and pumping himself as spurts of warm seed shot onto her breasts. He milked out every last drop, riding his high until his muscles lost all strength and he fell back onto the couch.

Kate got up and went to the kitchen, she cleaned herself up and put her bra back on. Derek felt self-conscious about it, so decided to cover up as well. He pulled his boxers up from around his ankles and found his jeans on the floor. After he put his shirt on he sees Kate in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and drinking a beer. He goes in and stands next to her.

“It’s getting late. Don’t you have school tomorrow?” She asked without looking at him. He nodded yes and turned to face the beautiful woman.

“I’ll see you later then?” He smiled and leaned in for a kiss but his lips were met by Kate’s finger.

“I’ll call you.” She stepped past the insecure child and went to the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Unsure how to read the situation, Derek grabbed his coat from the chair and hesitantly left. He thought he must have done something wrong and wanted to fix it, but he didn’t want to seem childish. So he headed back home on his bike.

It was a little after 8PM when he got back, all the kids were asleep, but his mother was up. She was reclined on the couch, the spot he often found her in. As he entered the house, her eyes immediately flickered up to the boy. As he passed where she was, he saw a look on her he had never seen. Her face often wore confidence and composure, but this was an expression of shock and confusion. He mirrored the look to his mother.

Derek’s eyes widened as he realized why she must have made the face. His scent reeked of sex. Mortified, he turned and continued upstairs, thankful that his mother didn’t oppose. He jumped in the shower, washing away the events of the night, but the memories lingered in his mind. He replayed every part, trying to pinpoint what he did to make Kate so standoffish. Did he cum too fast? Did he touch her wrong? Was it when he put his hand behind her head? He got out of the shower and dried off. He pulled on a pair of clean boxers and plopped into bed. He wanted to keep analyzing what happened, but he was exhausted from all of it, so he passed out almost instantly.

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#derek hale #kate argent #tbwtbe #the boy with the blue eyes #teen wolf rewrite

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