#tell me if i’m being harsh or dumb about this or whatever but my story is linear and has plot lines that carry from chapter to chapter

[myloveforhergoeson]

big ask potentially, but mostly just a question for my tasw readers… do you all like the original chapters? (roxy’s letter chapter, her birthday chapter)

i’d like to write another one but generally they’re not as well received/read as the ones that stick to the tv show plot lines for whatever reason but i thought i’d be cute to write a chapter about the gang actually getting to minnesota after the storm passes and hanging out there until the new year

are we interested or should i just stick to the tv story

[finnbbl]

Hyunjin × M! Reader - Dancer AU I SMAU | Chapter 21

Ch. 21 - I wish I didn’t care I Previous Chapter | Next Chapter I

I Story Masterlist I

Written: Yes

Smau: No

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: I don’t think there’s any? Let me know if I’m wrong

A/N: This chapter is rather confusing. There will be things that don’t make sense now, but they will soon. Bare with me 🙏

“Hey, you okay?” You were suddenly snapped out of your thoughts by a sudden but quiet voice. The stray sat calmly in your lap enjoying the soft strokes your hand gave along his fur. Your eyes refused to meet Mingyu’s, noticing that a thin gloss had settled over them. Blinking back your tears as you brought yourself to answer him. “Yeah, i’m alright.”So many emotions and feelings coursed through your body.

Anger, guilt, sadness, regret. The list goes on.

You weren’t even sure what you were feeling anymore. It had been a month and you’d yet to talk to san, let alone resolve the argument. Then of course Yeonjun has unfortunately been all you’ve thought about, and now Hyunjin was definitely upset with you. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared of talking to San. Scared of what exactly? You weren’t sure, and you didn’t want to find out.

“I don’t believe you.” Finally your eyes met his, making brief eye contact before he turned his view back to the road. The kitten purred softly as you continued to run your hand over his head and down his back. “It’s just another dumb argument, probably something I started..” A sigh left your lips as you thought back to that conversation. The harsh messages you left Hyunjin when he was only looking out for you. “Really? With who?” Mingyu asked as he palmed the steering wheel, turning into the parking lot of the vet, which you practically dragged him to. You paused for a moment, taken back by his question. It took you a while to answer. Not expecting that question, and the thought mentioning Hyunjin’s name to him made you squirm. There was such thick tension between the two, god how you wish they got along.

“H-Hyunjin.” Mingyu went quiet as his name tumbled from your lips. A long and deafening silence took over until he was finally parked. Looking down at the fur ball in your lap to try and take your mind away from everything. “Ah, I see.” He finally responded as he shifted the gear into park, turning off the car. “Well, I’m sure you two will resolve everything. You seem like good friends.” The two of you made eye contact, Mingyu shooting a soft smile your way and ruffling your hair in an attempt to ease the tension. The same hand went down to gently pet the stray you had begged him to let you keep, as if he had any say in it whatsoever. “Come on, let’s make sure he doesn’t have… rabies or whatever.” He shook his head as he opened the car door, his remark making you giggle softly as you did the same. Carefully holding him close as you felt your worries wash away briefly .

The visit wasn’t very long, luckily the cat was in good health. All he would need was his shots, as they definitely weren’t up to date. “So, you gonna keep him?” Mingyu questioned as you both got into his car. Thinking for a moment, you really wanted to keep him. However your dad would be the deciding factor unfortunately. “I want to.. I really do..” You trailed off, Mingyu waiting for you to say something else by your tone of voice. “I don’t know how my dad would feel.” He only hummed in response, not sure what else he could’ve said as he turned the key to start up the car. A comfortable but slightly uneasy silence filled the car as Mingyu began to drive you home. This gave you time for you to think about everything once again. It’s all that was ever on your mind anymore, and you hated it. You felt as if you’ll never be at peace with everyone and yourself at the same time. It was always this or that.

“You’re getting quiet again..” Mingyu started. “Wanna tell me what’s going on now?” You were at a loss for words, not used to someone being so direct with you. “I told you I’m fine.” The words fell out of your mouth, without permission it seemed. He went silent once again and you immediately backtracked. “Sorry I didn’t mean to..” You sighed as you lost your words, trailing off. Feeling tears gloss over your eyes as you wondered when you got so snappy. Everytime someone would worry for you, all you could do was respond harshly. Whether that’s what you wanted or not. “I guess it’s just-“ The car came to a sudden stop, interrupting you words. It caused you to look up, you were expecting to be home but to your surprise…

“Tell me about it while you get stuff for this damn cat.” Mingyu said suddenly with a playful tone. A light smile fell on your face, “I don’t even know if I can keep him yet.” You chuckled in between the first few words. “Well i’m sure youre stuck with him now. He gestured to your shoulder, not even noticing that the small kitten had climbed up. Both of you laughed briefly as you kept your eyes glued to your, most likely, newfound pet. A short silence took over before Mingyu’s hand came up to your cheek to wipe away a tear you hadn’t even noticed had fallen. He wasn’t the biggest fan of cats, yet here he was. Before you knew it, your eyes were glued to him. Genuinely you couldn’t see what Hyunjin saw. He had been nothing but kind to you. Sure his flirting was insufferable sometimes, but it was something you could look past. He could be serious and comforting when he needed to be. You were starting to feel something. Something you’ve felt before, something all too familiar. You just couldn’t quite remember when. where or how.

“Hello?” A hand waved in front of your face, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Come on, stop staring… I mean shit unless you really want to I-“ He teased and you gave him a light shove on his shoulder. “Shut up.” A smile settled upon your lips. You quickly opened the car door as the cat made himself at home on your shoulder. Attempting to avoid the embarrassment you felt. Not being one to stare, it was odd that you lost yourself in him. Everything was so confusing, you just wish you could keep yourself distracted for even a little bit.

A new sense of relief had washed over you as you two wandered the store. Although you couldn’t quite bring yourself to talk about everything that was weighing on you, he was there for you. And he reassured that he always would be if you ever needed anything. You felt as if you could rely on him and trust him with anything, and it comforted the anxiety deep down that never seemed to leave. A sense of safeness washed over you. “You better be keeping this damn cat after everything we went through today.” He jokingly teased. You glanced at him before moving your eyes around the food aisle. To be honest, it shouldn’t be too hard to convince your dad. Things had been rocky with you two for as long as you could remember, realistically however he never payed much attention to what you did. Nor did he care.

“Probably, my dad doesn’t pay enough attention to me to notice. I think sometimes he forgets I exist unless he needs something.” Brushing it off with a laugh. You thought it was funny, although Mingyu didn’t take it as a joke. He stopped in his tracks, and it didn’t take long for you to take notice. Turning back to him with a confused face, your smile dropped slowly. “What’s wrong?” You asked the taller male, completely oblivious to what you just said. Silence followed, along with his eyes locking with yours.

“Are you alright?” He suddenly asked. It caught you a bit off guard, and it left you slightly confused. That was before your mind raced back and realized what you had just said. “Oh, oh Mingyu. It’s okay.” You quickly walked over to him, placing your hand on his arm in a reassuring manner. “Sorry I didn’t mean to worry you, I promise it’s not that big of a deal.” He wasn’t buying it. “You sure?” It was obvious this topic wasn’t getting brushed off so easily. “Yes, I’m sure. Besides, I’m 21 now. My father isn’t required to take care of me.” Tilting your head as the kitten started to squirm in your arm. You weren’t so used to people lingering over a topic like this for so long. You’d make quite a few jokes about how shitty your home life was, but nothing ever got analyzed as much as this had. “Come on, they’re gonna close soon.” Giving him one last smile before turning on your heel and walking down the aisle. This left Mingyu staring off into space, replaying the conversation over and over again in his head. Re-evaluating your tone to see if he could catch a sudden change in it, or something that didn’t seem quite right. However, it didn’t last for very long. Keeping him distracted and constantly changing the topic anytime he tried to bring it up. He soon realized he wasn’t going to be able to get anything out of you.

The car rolled up onto the street next to your house, his foot ever so slightly easing on the brake as the car came to a stop. Mingyu’s eyes glanced to meet yours as he shifted into park, however you were fast asleep. And so was the kitten. He analyzed your face, eyes darting over your calm features. Sounds of your soft breathing disappeared into the car as he practically dreaded waking you up, you looked too peaceful. The male thought back once again, to what you had said while you were in the pet store earlier. It left him worried. Constantly having to remind himself that you were a grown man, an adult. “He can take care of himself,” The same thought crossed his mind once again. You didn’t need him. But that didn’t stop his mind from running in all sorts of directions, wondering what he could do to make your life easier. It wasn’t until then that you slowly started to shift, eyes fluttering open as you looked at your surroundings. “Where are we?” Your voice came out groggy, but to him it was cute. “We’re uh, at your house.” He softly said, regaining his thoughts and pretending he wasn’t just staring at you while you slept. Only a soft ‘oh’ sound left your mouth, almost as low as a whisper. A comfortable silence filled the car as you gathered your stuff slowly, still sleepy from the long car ride. He could tell you were lacking in sleep recently, nodding off here and there in the middle of movements. This only added to his worries. “Here, I’ll help.” He decided, and started off by taking the kitten from you first. It was a slow process but eventually there you two were, facing each other at your door step. “Do you need anything else from me?” He asked as you finally started to wake up. Glancing behind you to see if your father’s car was there. Lucky for you, it wasn’t.

“Uhm.. Nah i’ll be alright.” Debating for a moment before taking the cat back from him. Your one free hand reached for the door knob, pausing as soon as it made contact with the metal when he spoke. “Look uh, are you sure you’re okay?” You looked up at him, the shadow from the porch light casting over his face making it hard to read his expression. Freezing for a moment before tilting your head ever so slightly. “I-I’m okay Mingyu, why?” His lips pursed into a thin line as he looked up and down your face. It took a moment before you finally caught on, a sigh left your lips. “Mingyu it’s fine. Even if there was something wrong with my home life it’s not anything for you to deal with.” You said harshly, definitely harsher than you intended. Regardless of your intentions, your face and tone spoke more. “So there is something wrong at home.” He said more as a statement rather than a question.

Silence.

Only the sound of crickets could be heard as you both froze, standing still as sprinkles of rain began to fall. He rubbed his hand over his face and sighed. “If you don’t want to tell me, then don’t. But i’m worried for your wellbeing.” Your lips curved into a faint downward smile before turning the knob on the door and opening it. “Goodnight Mingyu.” You said before stepping inside and shutting the door, leaving him standing still. The rain came down even harder, and harder. He wasn’t sure how long he remained there. It must’ve been for a while, long enough for his hair to get so wet it draped down over his eyes. A frustrated and quiet sigh left his lips as he finally made his way back to his car. Once in, Mingyu didn’t move. His eyes kept fixed on your closed door, pondering. There was one thing he couldn’t figure out. His situation was different to any other that would’ve been in this predicament. All he knew was he shouldn’t care. He’s the one who put himself in this position, and he knows that he shouldn’t care about you.

However, he does. And god how he wish he didn’t.

Taglist: @silverstarburst @virluna148 @galaxycatdrawz @onementally-unstabel-kid @uso-dakedo @lampcults @chaer4life @kkurbys @gnusihcom @mellhwang @sleeping-demons @kuuroomiii @twobluegoldfish @chuuchuu1224 @lailac13 @thegingerthatwaited @brainrotahahaha

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[livelaughghoul]

George Russell - Personality Tarot Analysis

Disclaimer: This is for entertainment purposes only, nothing observed or taken away from this should be considered fact. As a reminder, I know fuck all about Formula 1, I just like fast cars and have a dumb amount of knowledge of astrology and tarot. 

I have a lot of mixed feelings about this one, but I think it’s really balanced. The Swords are interesting to me, and they really tell a story about how someone handles pain, and more importantly, how someone heals from it. 

I get the sense that George is very much portraying himself in a very specific way, he wants to be perceived as something other than how he truly is. There has been a lot of work that has gone into acknowledging how to heal from whatever comes his way. I think a lot of it comes back to the human condition and the myth of sisyphus. We are always going to end up experiencing some pain, it’s inevitable, but it’s how we heal from it that shapes our outward persona, and I think that George may struggle with this more than others. 

Anyways, here is the reading for George. I really am enjoying doing these, and would love to keep doing them! I’m open to almost any request as long as it falls within the guidelines of what I do readings for! 

Outward personality - Three of Swords

Whenever I see the Three of Swords I’m always reminded of how resilient people are, and how much healing needs to be done. The Three of Swords to me is what it looks like, heartache, learning to live with the pain even after healing, and an almost acceptance of the situation and the cards being dealt. 

I’ll be honest, I know nothing about George other than he got disqualified from his recent win, and he looks like an overgrown child (respectfully). I could be completely off here in my thoughts, but to me when I see a Three of Swords in terms of the outward personality, this to me is always indicative of a deeper pain, likely stemming from the self. We are our own worst enemies, but I think that George tends to take this to the next level. Those self deprecating jokes have a truth behind them, the harsh comments made to himself about his own performance probably run through his mind constantly. With that though, there has been a growth and acceptance, a healing and ability to overcome whatever is thrown his way. 

I absolutely see him being a stable and supportive person for others, but he absolutely does not take the time to make himself a priority. He would rather focus on others than himself and make sure that others are happy and feeling confident. 

Inward personality - The Sun 

I’m not going to lie, I absolutely let out a sigh of relief when I saw this for the internal personality. Outward we see a lot of healed pain and resilience, and the inward personality is this assurance, the feelings of accomplishment, and almost relief. 

I think the two complement each other really well. Outward we have a lot of things going on that require a lot of internal strength and work, and inwardly we have the reassurance we need to know that everything actually will be okay. The Sun is what comes after letting the swords heal. I have no doubts that George is able to work through the Swords and find reassurance in himself, he can combat that negative self-talk and find his own relief, it just takes time. It can be difficult when we’re not acknowledging our own pains and instead focusing on helping others. 

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Yuma Dark [08]

ー The scene starts on the rooftop at school

Kino: So you can’t answer my question?

Yuma: ...

...Sure, I can’t leave that place in the hands of this deadbeat.

Shuu: ...

Yuma: But listen up, it was none other than Karlheinz-sama himself who chose this bastard as his successor.

I don’t know why exactly he chose to do that, but now that he did, I refuse to doubt his choice.

That’s why I can’t allow fuckers like yerself to just casually steal those powers away.

Of course, I’m not gonna let him throw them away either. It might be what he wants, but I’m definitely not lettin’ him!

It’s our duty to carry out Karlheinz-sama’s legacy, as well as our way to return the favor to him.

Yui: ( Yuma-kun... )

Kino: Hmー I already heard the stories, but you guys really are very devoted, aren’t you?

Yuma: Don’t play dumb. What I’m tryin’ to say here is that if ya want to get in my way, I’m gonna crush yer sorry ass!

Kino: Ahー Yeah, yeah. I know.

It wouldn’t be in my best interest to fight you right here, right now. So I’ll step back. 

You get to live another day it seems, weak Vampire King?

Shuu: ...I never asked him to.

Kino: Heh, maybe not right now. But one day, you might just get down on your knees and beg for his help. See you!

ー Kino flies off

*Flap flap flap* 

Yuma: Che...He’s always quick to run when things get sticky. ...Ah?

Crow: ...

Yui: ( That crow...It’s looking at Yuma-kun again? )

Yuma: ...Ya lil’ fucker again? If you’ve got somethin’ to tell meーー

*Flap flap flap* 

Yui: ( Ah, there it goes. )

Yuma: Hah! Look at all of them gettin’ cold feet. ...Whatever.

ー Yuma walks up to Shuu

Yuma: Oi, get up, shitty NEET.

Shuu: ...I don’t remember needing you to tell me what to do.

Yuma: Shut up! Stop makin’ up excuses and get up!

*Rustle* 

*Thud* 

Yui: Yuma-kun! He’s injured so you shouldn’t be too rough with him...!

Yuma: Otherwise I’ll never get through his thick skull!

Shuu: Coff...

Yuma: Hah! Pathetic! I can’t believe ya let yerself get beaten up by some random shithead.

Shuu: Shut up. Besides...Why did you stop him?

Yuma: Ah? Ya didn’t want me to?

Shuu: Of course not. If you let him have it his way, everything would be resolved now.

Yuma: ...!

*THUD*

Yuma: Ya bastard, cut it out already! When will you grow some fuckin’ balls, huh!?

Yui: Y-Yuma-kun!

Selection

→ Shuu-san, are you alright!? 

Yui: Shuu-san, are you alright!?

→ Yuma-kun, calm down! (❦)

Yui: Yuma-kun! Please, calm down!

Yuma: Back the fuck off! I’m sick and tired of this guy’s bullshit!

Shuu: ...You should stop trying to force me into a role as well. I never asked to be the heir to the throne. 

I’m very much bothered by the Old Man’s impulsive decision as well. 

If there’s anyone who wants these powers, they can have them. I’d even give them to you if that means I can get them off my hands. 

Yuma: Kuh...!

Yui: Shuu-san! ...Please...Just stop already.

Shuu: He’s the one who came to pick a fight with me, no?

Yuma: ...Cut the crap.

*Rustle*

ー Yuma walks away

Yui: Yuma-kun...!

Yuma: Leave me alone.

ー He leaves

Shuu: Haah. ...What a drag.

Yui: ...I’m sorry, Shuu-san. I’m going to Yuma-kun...

Shuu: And you need my permission for that?

Yui: But, you’re injured and all...

Shuu: I’m in no position to have you worry about me. ...Get going already, you’re an eyesore.

Yui: I’m so sorry...!

ー Yui goes after Yuma

Monologue

I’d even give them to you. 

I am sure he put little thought into those words. 

However, to Yuma-kun,

it must have come across as incredibly harsh. 

The Mukami Family, being former humans,

can never become (なれない) heirs (当主), no matter how badly they might want to. 

No matter how badly they might yearn,

after the powers of the man they oh-so respect,

they simply cannot succeed the throne.

This is something they were already aware of,

but when I consider how Yuma-kun must feel after once again being directly confronted by it...

a sharp pain pierces my chest.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[sostrangerous]

I’m interested to know if you were raised Christian the way Mark is portrayed in the FYCK? I myself was raise in a Christian house but we were protestant. I myself am not religious now and dont believe in any god, maybe a higher power but definitely not God. my parents were only concerned if I got confirmation just so I had the ability to be married in a church if I wanted to be. But my experience was very neutral. We never had to confess our sins cause I was Protestant also the teachings were more like trust in God and pray. Also to form our own relationships as secular worship was not a requirement. We were never taught to be less than but more my church taught us we were flawed and it was okay and that we are like this because God finds humans flaws to be part of us that keeps us as his most prized creations. I do agree that it is fucked to tell children about burning in hell for just bad things and not really creating space to understand what is a “bad thing” besides “sin” I mean I had a harsh Sunday school teacher who was more of bible thumper. You obviously can ignore this asks but I just put it out there because talking about religion or reading about made me realize i was quite lucky and I look back on people growing up in my town who probably had a similar experience to Mark. I had an ex boyfriend who had crazy religious trama over his grades. Like Marks whole thing with the Ritalin was like whoa deja vu. It was like reading my own words, reading Jeno say your not dumb over and over. Like I’m 24 now and it’s crazy that like two years ago I realized my boyfriend from my sophomore year in college had religious trama and would try to suck me in. I just couldn’t understand his freak outs about being stupid, reading FYCK is kinda like seeing that part of my life play out in a story with my favs as characters lol.

OOF i hope your ex is doing better wherever he is now, damn

i try not to talk about myself on here bc i want my work to speak for itself... but i also have Opinions lol. i dont care for religion in general but christianity specifically is straight up evil. im glad that some people are able to escape christianity unscathed but many people are not. regardless of individual experiences with it, christianity is a driving force for conservatism and child abuse in my country (murica) and around the world. on a personal level churches and heavily religious areas are inherently hostile to me so i dont like being in them if i can help it

however!! i didn't write fyck t be a lecture, it has way too much porn in it for that ^__^ regardless of my personal opinions, mark in fyck doesn't share them exactly and i want his character to speak for itself via my writing. u guys can have whatever opinion you want about religion, and interpret fyck however you like

[badmoonbasketcase]

Letters From Home

WARNINGS : no smut / fluffly / heartbreaking / confession Word Count : 1.1k words Eddie's letter to Steve Authors Note : (that I absolutely stole from @namedafteraprincess) When Max wrote letters to the gang “just in case” it sparked an idea in my fabulously talented friend’s head about what if Steve and Eddie had written letters to each other. So with our Steddie shipping hearts in full gear, here they are. We would like to apologize in advance for any ✨emotional distress✨

Munson,

I can’t believe I’m actually writing one of these dumb letters, it worked for Max… I guess. I feel stupid and if you ever show Dustin this letter, I’ll make you regret it. I’m pretty good at many things, but words aren’t one of them. With everything that’s been going on it felt important, that I at least attempt to get some out. 

I didn’t say it that day but I was jealous too. 

Jealous of how much Dustin admired you. He didn’t need me anymore because of his new, cool best friend Eddie. I just couldn’t let go, couldn’t wrap my head around it. All because a kid three years younger than me was spending time with other people. I thought… I thought it was jealousy but I don’t think it is. It’s a long story but I met Dustin when we both needed a friend and he was all I had for a long time. And when… when I thought he was moving on from me. You’re not the only one who runs from the things that scare you, man. I got scared. 

I thought I was going to be alone again. I have Robin, but it’s Henderson. That annoying little shit is like my brother and it hurt that he had found someone that he liked better, or… that's what I thought. Whatever, listen. I was wrong. And if you tell anyone I said that I’d deny it. Dustin needs both of us. I can protect him, I can be the badass he can come to when he needs help… when he needs someone to do something dangerous with him but you, he needs you to figure out how to be himself in the world.

You gotta teach him to be confident as the little nerd he is, your over-the-top encouragement, and to get through high school without hating it. I hated it, I know you hated it. Listen, I need you to promise me that if, that if I don’t come back from this. You’ll take care of him, even after you graduate. Just keep taking care of him because he needs you. 

I need you, Eddie, to promise that you’ll never let him be alone, man. Ever. Never let him feel like we felt, that harsh coldness from everyone around us as they turned their backs because we weren’t what they wanted from us. Just look out for him, for me.

I have something else to say but, it’s not as easy for me to put in this letter and… you may laugh or I don’t know throw it out but I need to say it just in case something happens. I wanted to thank you. I was thinking about what you said, about chasing after Nance, about getting her back. I heard you, but what stuck with me is the bit about true love and I think, even if you're cynical about it love has a way of showing you what you need even when what you want is staring you straight in the face man. 

I kept you at an arm's distance because I couldn’t stand the idea that I had been looking in the wrong place for that kind of love that makes you feel like you’ve been struck by lightning. Munson, you were there the whole time. The smell of smoke in your dirty hair, the sound of your rings rolling against each other and the feeling of your cynical, terrified brown eyes staring back at me are burned into my skin like branding. 

Maybe I’m a hopeless romantic idiot, but maybe I was just waiting on you. 

For you to show me how to be alive, how not to care what other people thought of me because the people that matter the most won’t care that I’m afraid of the dark or being alone. You gave me the choice to be who I am regardless of the names I’ve been called. The King, the babysitter… a stupid kid who bullied other people because it made him feel better when his shitty friends cheered him on. I just… I just wanted to be Steve Harrington and you saw me through all of that. 

I was laying there yesterday while everyone slept, piled into the trailer and all I could hear was the sound of you breathing. I got so worked up that I couldn’t focus on sleeping, I couldn’t focus on anything but you. Thank you, for allowing me to hope again. Even if it’s impermanent.

I’m going to take it with me into the upside down, that hope you gave me back. Maybe I’ll finally have time to figure out who I am without all of this fear and worry. And then when this is all over I’ll get to explore those feelings you give me. Shit okay, here goes. You’re the reason I believe in love again man, I just hope I don’t fuck this up. 

You have to know about the weird anxious butterflies that fill my stomach and make my chest tight when I see you. How much I love that dumb dimple that forms on your cheek when you have a bad plan that will most likely get us killed or arrested. That I selfishly want to hear you say my name, over and over. It’ll never get old coming from your lips. I just hope it’s not too late, that I didn’t waste my time worrying about stupid things, like friendships that didn’t matter, school, and prom king. Those things don’t matter. That day that you hesitated to come after me, it didn’t matter because I’ve been hesitating every day since you looked at me in those woods. Scared that if I did tell you how I felt… about everything that you might not, I don’t know, feel the same, Munson. It’s been a pleasure to watch you find your courage and reclaim your confidence. To learn how clever and caring you are, thank you for letting me get to know you as something other than the freak. Cause that’s not who you are, not really. Let the town think what they want, let them paint you as a villain, they have no idea what you have sacrificed for them this week.

It feels odd to dream while I’m wide awake. Have you ever gotten that feeling? Like there's just something you want so bad that you can taste it, you can feel it on your skin and in your hair. 

That’s you, Eddie, you’re a dream. 

You’re my fleeting hope. My painfully distant daydream. 

Be careful tomorrow, I don’t think that I could take living without you now that I’ve had the chance to breathe you in. It doesn’t matter what direction I crawl, all arrows point to you. 

Be safe, Steve.

Masterlist

[not-alien-girl-v]

Tate story I am sorry I don’t have a name for it yet

Warning: Language

Note: Hello! So this story is based off the concept of reality shifting, but I took some specifics on the basics of the concept from a oneshot series by @toomanyfandoms02 , so definitely go read that if you’re a fan of MGG, it’s called The Transporter. Also I kinda hate this chapter but it will get better I swear

I still remember the day things changed. I was in English class, 6th period, when Mr. Rove sat down at his desk, a bedazzled expression as he explained to us the news: traveling dimensions was now a possibility.

Students turned to each other, chatting about, every single detail of their ideal universe being put into words with each other, but I kept my ideas to myself. Not to say I didn’t have any, because I did. Sure, it was a very vague idea, but I set it aside in my mind, as I did to every unrealistic desire I’d accumulated over the years, like being a bestselling author.

I knew I certainly had the capability to write a story, maybe even a good one at that, but I’d never write something irresistibly readable. Something so interesting, so complex and beautiful that it could reach the minds of many.

“This is shit,” Mr. Rove confirmed my sneaking suspicion that day in his office. In his large hands, he held my submission for the school’s writing contest. The winner would receive a $10,000 scholarship to their college of choice, something I desperately needed.

It’s not that I didn’t have the money. In fact, my father was a world renowned scientist, making a fuckton of money and refusing to let me take advantage of that.

I get it, he came from the bottom and made it to the top with no help from a rich parent, and he wants me to be the same: a successful, self made individual, but I have to say, paying for your own dinners, clothes, electronics etc sucks when you are only old enough to make minimum wage.

All those daddy’s money girls I go to school with do annoy me, and for that, I get where he’s coming from. But I’m far from them.

As for what Mr. Rove said to me, it’s not something I didn’t already know. I could easily tell the story was no good. I felt like it was shit the whole writing it, it’s no big surprise that it wasn’t worthy of winning the contest.

“I know,” I spoke honestly. I wasn’t going to bullshit him about this, I sucked and I knew it.

He leaned back in exasperation, running a hand through his dark hair and sighing. Placing the paper back on his desk, “I mean, come on. The main girl is too dumb. Why does she keep going back to camp every year when someone always gets murdered? No one wants to read something so frustrating and predictable. Horror is about suspense, and there’s nothing in this. My 3 year old daughter probably could have written this thing as a shitty picture book.”

Harsh. He could have at least spared some feelings. “That was rude. I’m a child, you know. Your my teacher you’re supposed to be nice to me. What would the principal have to say about your awful bedside manner?”

“Okay, fine. Turn this in to the contest, see yourself lose the scholarship, and end up working 9 to 5 at McDonalds.”

I pursed my lips and stared him down in defeat. “That’s what I thought,” he continued.

That was a month ago, and the application deadline closes at the end of summer, giving me roughly 2 and a half months to write this story. No problem right?

Wrong. Big problem. Summer is finally here - as of today - and I still have little to no idea what I’m doing with this new story I was demanded to write by Mr. Rove.

Now here I am, one foot after another on the hot concrete, and I can tell it’s scalding because Chuck Taylor shoes do nothing to protect your feet from things like the burning pavement on a hot summer day.

My forehead is dripping and as is every part of my body I could possibly generate sweat from (which is everywhere, as I’m now learning) and it is no picnic. Days like this make me wish I hadn’t quit my job to ‘pursue writing’ or whatever stupid reason it was. I’m buying my own car, or at least I will be once I find the money for it.

The walk to my home, near excruciating, finally ends after I scramble around my purse for my house keys, entering the bliss of air conditioning. I close my eyes and slide down the wall, almost comedically and I nearly cry at the sensation.

Sweat in my eyes, my mouth, the tips of my fingers slowly drying cool, leaving me with a bitter stench left behind.

The house I live in is probably the only thing in my life that reflects my father’s success. It’s three stories, in a rich neighborhood and with an indoor pool. It would be nice if my father were every around to enjoy it.

The note on the fridge reads ‘big news, call me’. School is over, I have no homework and nothing to do but procrastinate with this story I’m writing, so I call him right away.

Two rings, “Hello?”

“Hey dad, it’s me, what’s the news?” I have now moved up to my room, climbing in the stairs not dissimilar to the trek up Mount Everest, and sink down into my desk chair.

“We did it! We figured it out!” He exclaims and I can swear I hear his happy dance over the phone.

“So it was you. I should have figured.” My father is a genius, a scientist, and as of today, one of the inventors of multi-universal travel.

“Yeah, boss put it on the news! But it doesn’t end there, not for you.”

“Oh?”

“Nope, you, my sweet daughter, are going to be one of the first test subjects!”

I am forcefully silenced. The air has permanently left my lungs and at the moment, I have no reason to believe it will ever return. I inhale, oh there it is again.

“Did you hear me? I volunteered you. This is going to be an amazing opportunity for you, you’ll get to experience what it’s like to live as an individual in the lower class. You know how important it is to hear every side of the economical story to be a true philanthropist-“

“Dad?” I interrupt.

“Yes?”

“You didn’t even ask me about this? You’re just deciding that I’m going to participate in leaving this dimension? All for what? To become a better person? To complete this narrative of a humble rich girl?”

Now he’s in silence.

“I gave you this opportunity because it’s a once in a lifetime event. You should be grateful for this, do you even know how many girls would kill to do what you’re about to?”

“What will I be getting from this? All I’m hearing is what you’re benefiting, but what would be in any of this for me?”

He pauses to think. “How about I make you a deal. If you agree to this under my terms, I’ll let you choose what reality you shift to. How about that?”

“And?”

Sighing, “and if you do this, I’ll… get you a car.”

I jump up out of my chair. “Seriously?”

“Yes. But only if you agree to it right now.”

“What would happen if I didn’t?”

“You’d still be doing this anyway, but I get to choose where you’re going. Plus no car.”

Grinning, I reply, “you’ve got yourself a deal! When do I leave?”

“Tomorrow morning. And try not to eat anything within the next 12 hours, most of the rats we tested on threw up a little during the shift. Love you, bye!”

“Wait what-“ But he’s already hung up on me. Well, there goes my summer. Or maybe time will just pause when I leave, I don’t know. But what I do know is that I need to talk about this.

___

“Have I mentioned how much I’m in love with Tate Langdon?” Del asks. She’s spread out on my bed, scrolling through my Tumblr, after making the executive decision to follow the Tate Langdon tag on my account.

“Maybe once or twice. One more time for good measure?” I joke from my floor where my existential crisis is occurring.

“He’s the love of my life!” She squeals. I don’t say anything. I love Del, but whenever she gets like this, I feel it best to let her get it all out.

“Can I ask you something?” I speak, nearly groaning my words out with a scratchy voice.

“Shoot.”

“You know how they figured out reality shifting?”

“Of course, it’s all over practically everything.”

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

“American Horror Story, duh! Do you even have to ask me that, come on Clara, catch up,” she laughs. I hum.

“You’re just saying that because you want to fuck that Tate guy,” I accuse her with a giggle.

“It’s so much more than that. The storyline is so amazing, and the characters, so complex, as long as it would be assured I couldn’t die or get hurt, I’d love to live in a horror universe like that. You could probably do good there too. Maybe in a place like that, you could find some inspiration for your story.”

People should stop saying shocking things to me today, because I keep finding myself in an uncomfortable silence, mouth agape and mind exploded. I sit up.

“Del, I’m going on a trip this summer.”

“Wow a trip? Geez, Clara spare some details, would ya?” She jokes.

“It has something to do with my dad’s work. You know he has to keep it private, government classified and whatever the fuck. You just need to know that I’m leaving tomorrow morning, and I probably won’t be able to contact you for a good long while.”

“Is this your creative way of saying I need to go home now?” She is already up off my bed, not waiting for an answer and slipping on her shoes.

“Yes. I’m up early, so I need a good nights rest.”

“Alright, alright, I’m out, I’ll see you whenever your… trip… is over,” she cackles and I hear it travel down my staircase and out the front door.

___

I’m oh so delicately greeted with the most beautiful noise in the world: my alarm clock, blaring in my sleeping ear at 4am.

Since I spoke with my father, he miraculously suddenly became insanely busy, too busy to return any further calls or texts from me, so I’ve been exchanging words with his assistant, Laura.

Laura said not to dress up for the occasion, that I’ll have clothes of my own in whatever reality I choose, so there’s no need to be flashy or pack anything sentimental.

My stomach rumbles in my stomach and I sit at the kitchen table, staring down an apple in the fruit bowl like it owes me money. I can’t, I shan’t, I mustn’t. But fuck, I really want to. I stand up and leave the room, not needing to get overwhelmed just yet today. I’m sure I can find other reasons to freak out later, so I’m saving my energy.

I took Laura’s advice, so I’m wearing sweat pants and a band T-shirt. I hear a honk outside, signaling that the woman in question is now here to take me to a facility which will ultimately lead to the exit of this reality that I’ve called home my entire life. Big shit, don’t think about it.

I run outside, nothing but my phone and wallet in pocket, past the gate around the front yard, into the front seat of Laura’s car. “Good morning, Clara,” she cheerfully greets, too cheerfully for 4 in the morning, in my book.

“Mm,” I groan in response. Adding on, “Will I be able to die?”

“In the other reality?” She grips the steering wheel equally with both hands at 10 and 2, like a professional would.

“No, in Australia,” I deadpan.

“No, you won’t be able to die. You’ll be entering a version of your universe of choice where you can’t die, so you won’t be able to stay there for the rest of your life, of course. You can get hurt, however, so be weary, as always. And one more thing, you cannot let anyone know you’ve come from a different universe. They haven’t discovered this technology in that reality yet, so a lot of things will be incorrectly shifted if you let anyone know you’re not from there.”

She fits this all into one breath, not sounding winded in any way, she must talk a lot normally. “Just out of curiosity, what universe have you decided on?”

“You ever see American Horror Story?” I ask.

“I’ve heard of it. A fine choice, however you’ll need to be very careful you don’t get hurt. Don’t get on anyone’s bad side.”

“Isn’t that the truth in any universe?”

“What year would you be planning on shifting to?” She seems to be having none of my bullshit this morning.

“2009. LA. I want to live in the murder house.”

“Oh… are you sure?” I can tell she’s trying her hardest not to send me an odd look with how carefully she’s focusing on the road now.

“Completely.” I am stern and unmoving. I can’t die, what’s the harm? Del was probably right, as she often is, through all the madness she spews.

She inhales sharply and it almost sounds like it hurts, “well, alright. If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

___

Now here I stand, in front of this machine that will supposedly allow me to shift realities. Of course I have full trust in my fathers technology, I have no reason not to, I just thinking the entire concept has yet to absorb in my mind.

I’m leaving this universe, and quite frankly, I have no say in it at all.

“Are you ready?” Laura is standing in a separate room, behind a protective glass window, like an X-Ray technician.

On the way in here, I was fortunate enough to meet some of the other test subjects. A young woman named Natalia, a man named Arthur, and a girl named Sophia. They were all around 18-20, making me wonder why young people are the only ones being selected for this experiment. Perhaps it has something to do with the toll on the body.

“Yes.”

“Al-“ I cut Laura off.

“Will it hurt?” I pick at my nails. I’m more nervous than I let on, and my stomach is burning and twisting inside my abdomen.

“It will be a little uncomfortable, but it won’t hurt, promise.”

Though she said she promised, it somehow brought me no relief at all. Either way, I was ready. I wish my dad were here right now. Seems like the type of thing to be present for.

I step into the machine, and it’s reminiscent to a cheesy time machine from an old Hollywood movie. A vivid image appears of the machine shaking, sputtering and smoking, before eventually comedically falling apart with me still in it.

I giggle at my own imagination, and get myself comfortable. I was informed of the specifics of my conditions once I shift. I will be an orphan (thanks a lot, dad) who lives with a foster family in the murder house. I will have two foster parents, and two foster brothers, aged 12 and 14.

I see Laura behind the glass typing something into a big board with a lot of buttons, like I’m in a recording studio and she’s my producer behind the glass. I close my eyes for a moment and begin to feel a terrible sick feeling in my stomach. Like when you go on those rollercoasters that bring you up super high then suddenly drop, and you feel like all your guts might just ooze out of your pores.

I keep my eyes closed and don’t dare to open them until the queasy feeling slowly fades, and I don’t hear the chatter of the other three test subjects from the next room. In fact, the air conditioning I was previously surrounded by in the lab has disappeared, and I feel hot sunlight beaming down on my skin.

“Clara! Get in here!”

I open my eyes now. Here I am, standing out front the house, exact to the TV show, and I would know, Del made me watch it roughly a thousand times.

I feel the sun on the tops of my arms, my legs, and it’s apparent that I’m not wearing the same outfit I left in. Now, I sport a tank top and dark jean shorts with sheer black tights underneath, and a number of bracelets trailing up both my arms.

I look up at the house, massive and astounding in front of me. There’s an open window on the second floor, and I see a glimpse of a young blond boy staring down at me, but he walks away before I can really see him.

[angelofbloodlust]

Bunny (Billy Loomis x Reader)

A/N: Long time, no see, y’all 😳 sorry for my disappearance, I’ve been going through quite a lot but I’m happy to be back! I apologize if this story isn’t the best, it’s been a long time since I’ve written something like this and I’m still trying to get back in my groove- but if this ends up being well-received I’d be happy to try writing a part 2! <3 hope u guys enjoy!!

—————————————————

Your eyes scan over the backyard of the tan house sat in front of you once more, zoning in heavily on the blackened windows as your boots take hesitant steps forward towards the home of your fellow peer that you’ve been watching for weeks now. Shallow breaths escape you as your chest begins to pound, a flurry of both panicked and thrilled emotions swarming your stomach as your hand tightens on the butcher knife in your hold.

You were finally about to experience your first kill, after taking so many precautions and endless planning. You figured now would be the perfect time with the other murders that has had Woodsboro in chaos, the police department has already got themselves absorbed in solving the murders of Casey and Steve, if you manage to get through this unscathed you could easily let the other nutjob take the blame and get to work on your next plan.

But, that’s easier said than done.

You suck in a breath through your nostrils as you cautiously approach the cracked window ahead of you, the one you’ve witnessed be pushed open by the student’s mother each night before bed, just like clockwork. Though of course, you ensured that neither of her parents would be home that night, and you were glad they were dumb enough to trust their daughter enough to be able to defend herself with a psychopath on the loose.

Your teeth remain clenched as you slowly lift yourself up and climb through the window after pushing it open, being careful to not let your costume get caught and allowing your jaw to relax once you step from the marble of the countertops down to the wooden plank flooring below. Anxiousness to get upstairs and cut the girl’s head off stabs at you as your eyes find the stairs from your view out of the kitchen, though you force yourself to keep your pace as you take light steps on your path towards your goal, and feel relief at the fact none of the floorboards have creaked so far. Annoyance swiftly follows after as you notice the stairs aren’t carpeted, internally grumbling a couple curses while readying yourself to have to take your backup plan in case you accidentally make a noise and wake the girl up.

You make your way up slowly, begging in your mind for each step not to creak, and as you’ve made walked up all but 2 steps, you can’t help but feel a smug grin curl over your lips underneath your mask as you relish in the fact that everything’s gone so smoothly.

And immediately you regret that thought, once you and the short brunette standing in front of the bathroom door both freeze up in shock from the sight of the other.

“Shit, you’re not supposed to be awake!” You groan out, scowling at yourself once you process that you accidentally said that out loud.

Your body tenses as your words seem to have triggered the girl out of her state of shock, a blood-curling wail slipping from her lips at the sight of the knife in your hand before she runs to attempt scampering back into her bedroom to hide from you, sobs and screams pouring from her as you growl under your breath while bolting up the last couple steps and over the carpet towards her.

“Stop yelling!” You whine in panic from her loudness, before narrowing your eyes at your sudden idiocy with the situation. Why the fuck would she listen to you?!

A frustrated huff leaves you as she manages to slam the door on you, leaving you to violently push and slam on the now locked door while spilling out any indecent word your brain can think of in the moment. How could this have gone any worse? Your plan was all for nothing now!

Anxiety twirls in your gut as you look between the door and the stairs, having to make a quick decision as you’re sure the cops have been called by now and won’t take long to arrive. You exhale out, before making the final call to abandon the plan and speed back down the stairs, hopping over anything in your way as you head into the kitchen and back out the window.

Brief relief hits you as the soles of your shoes meet the grass again, taking a swift glance behind you while running for the patch of woods ahead of you. Your exhale out is interrupted as you suddenly collide into something, which you thought was a tree for a split second until the object ahead of you slips out a grunt once they stumble back slightly.

You look back forward in surprise, shock waving you as your vision is taken up by the same white and black mask morphed into a scream that you previously slipped on after making the discovery the other killer had worn it. A squeak leaves your lips as the man in front of you takes a rough grip on your upper arms, shifting around to face your towards the woods and push you forward as he gives a huff out.

“Go, I’m not gonna let you get us caught.” He hisses out, balling the back of your costume into his fist to ensure you keep moving as he leads you further way from the house while you struggle to wrap your head around what’s happening.

“H-How did you know I was-”

“We were in the area prepping, and we could hear that bitch’s scream from a mile away.” He huffs in response.

“Oh..” You mumble, embarrassment now filling your cheeks as he continues to guide you like you’re a disobedient child, wanting to pull from his grip but feeling unsure of how he might react. “...Did you say we?” You question suddenly as you shift your head to look back to him.

“Yes. No more questions, I think I have a right to be the one questioning you instead. Who the fuck are you?” He asks in a strict tone, and despite his mask covering his expression, you could somehow feel the rage radiating off of him at your presence.

You narrow your hidden eyes, “Why would I tell you that?? I don’t even know who you are!”

“I said no more questions.”

“I think it’s a pretty reasonable one if you’re gonna only ask questions I don’t wanna answer!”

“Fine, if that’s how you want to be then we can both remain anonymous. How about this, instead?” He hums, “Did you even kill her? I don’t see any blood on you.”

“..No.. She locked the door on me before I could grab her, I wanted to kill her in her sleep but she was awake once I got inside.” You admit in a sheepish mumble.

He scoffs, “A door stopped you?” You scowl as he chuckles in amusement at your actions. “I suppose that’s reasonable, you are pretty small. Wouldn’t expect you to be able to be able to break it down.” He teases, causing you to grumble out as you wiggle from his grip and turn to face him.

“Hey, it was my first time, and I was panicking! Take it easy on me.” You demand with a pout.

He crosses his arms as he looks down to you, “Tsk, you tried to do it all on your own? No wonder you failed.”

“I spent months planning it, I thought I would’ve done well..” Your voice cracks through your sentence, leaving you to attempt sighing away your urge to cry while you turn back to keep walking, your eyes sticking down to watch your steps while the man with you gives an exhale as he follows at your side.

“Alright, alright, I’ll quit being so harsh. But it takes someone naturally skilled to be able to do it on their own, you know? You think you have everything you need, but even the littlest thing that doesn’t go to plan can fuck it all up. Maybe for you, you just need a bit of teaching to make sure you’re ready for anything.” He shrugs.

“Are you.. offering to help me?” You question gently through the mix of shock and confusion in your chest as to why this stranger is willing to take you under his wing, tilting your head slightly up to him.

“Maybe. But you need to prove that you’re serious about this.”

You begin to question him on how you can prove it, before stopping at the beginning of your sentence once the two of you cross through the patch of woods and up to a parked car on the lone street in front of you. An unsure sensation fills your gut as he makes you stay back while he walks over to the driver’s side window, and you begin to question to yourself if this might really be a safe decision to go with the psychopaths that you were about to frame.. But at the same time, this might be your real chance to be able to finally learn the proper ways of murder.

Soon enough, he walks back over to you and gestures to your mask. “To go any further with this, I need to see your face if you’re going to see ours. It’s only fair.” He requests you in a calm tone, and you hesitate as you frown as you pick up sudden worried thoughts. What if he just wanted to be able to rat you out and let you take blame for everything?

“Hey, you know you haven’t really proved your loyalty to me, either.. What if-”

You freeze as his hand reaches up for his own mask, watching him pull it off to reveal his cold, yet neutral expression as the guy you recognize to be Billy Loomis from your school stands in front of you. Your face reddens at the sight, you know him enough about him to have a thorough crush on him, though you suppose you didn’t know him quite enough to have realized that part of the reason you had been so drawn to him was the fact you were more alike than you had known.

“I’m risking everything for this. Do you know how much this could fuck up everything with us letting you in?” He sighs, and you watch as his lips form in a displeased pout. “The last thing I want is you getting caught doing this dumb shit, and if you’re going to steal our costume you at least need to not act like a moron while you’re in it.” He huffs with narrowed eyes.

“God- fuck, whatever. If you guys end up killing me, I have nothing to lose.” You grumble as you pull off your mask, holding your own pout while he takes up a smirk while looking you over.

“Just as cute as I expected you to be, bunny.” He purrs out in a playful tone, which causes you to give him a questioning expression through your heated cheeks at the nickname.

“Bunny?”

“You’re small, cute and quick. Like a bunny.” He grins.

“I will actually deck you if you call me that again.” You hiss out while he starts to lead you towards the car.

“No, you won’t. I could tell you liked it.” He chimes in a proud tone, laughing out once you reach to smack his arm with your face on fire.

“Shut your mouth, Loomis! You’re so annoying!” You whine as your voice pitches up with your embarrassment.

“Get your ass in the car, Y/N.” He snorts out as he nudges you towards the backseat.

“..You know my name?”

“You’re in my Physics class. I recognize you.” He chuckles gently, flashing you a brief smile before slipping into the passenger’s seat.

“Oh.” You hum, feeling content as you feel joy at the fact that he recognizes you, holding your own smile as you get into the back of the car before pausing once Stu Macher shoots you a grin from the driver’s seat.

“Hey, Y/N! Billy says you wanna join us, that true?” He asks through his classic happy tone, starting up the car while you manage to get yourself to nod as you confirm to yourself that the man you had only ever expected to be the class clown to be Billy’s partner in crime, though you weren’t entirely sure why you were caught off guard with the insane amount of loyalty Stu’s always shown to Billy over the years you’ve watched them be friends.

“Yeah.. Uh, sorry, I wasn’t expecting to see you. Didn’t think you were this kinda guy.” You snicker.

He gives an unbothered shrug, “Well, people always have their secrets, don’t they?” He chuckles, causing you to quirk an eyebrow once he flashes a grin over to Billy and laughing out once he smacks his shoulder in a manner to tell him to shut up. Stu smiles back at you again through the rear-view mirror, “It’s nice to have ya join us, though. I’m sure it’ll be real fun for the three of us.” He purrs, and you can’t help but get an unsettling feeling from the tinge of malice in his smirk, which you couldn’t tell if it was meant to be towards you.

You could only hope not.

[thetaleoflevi]

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Distance

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Pairing: Levi x Fem!Reader

Content Type: SFW

TW: Season 3 spoiler, Blood, Profanity, Suicide (For a split second), Suggestive

Description: Reader distances herself from Levi, strongly believing her feelings are not reciprocated by him, causing Levi to miss her.

Word Count: 5.3k+

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Please go away, Captain. Or at least end me. I don’t like the way you make me feel when you’re around. I can’t breathe. Please stop walking my way. Stop looking at me with those eyes.

“Y/N, I need that paperwork on my desk by five o’clock today. Not a minute late, understood?” What are you even saying? Stop looking at me like that. His brows creased with impatience at your nonexistent response. “Hey, focus, brat.” He snapped his fingers at you, making you flinch out of your daze. “Yes, Captain! Right away.” You saluted messily and paced toward the door, returning when you figured out that you didn’t know what you were ordered to do.

“What are you agreeing to, brat?” God…that delicious word was cracking your last bits of sanity. “Repeat what I ordered you to do.” Levi demanded, not having moved an inch from where he was standing. He crossed his arms in annoyance. “Um, y-you… You said to-” “I told you to jump off of Wall Maria without any gear on.” Your eyes widened, and you felt as if all the air in your lungs got punched out of you. So this was your end. This is how you die? Your Captain found your expression to be almost as funny as a shit joke. He didn’t show it on the surface, though.

“Relax, idiot. I was kidding. I want you to finish the paperwork I gave you earlier and hand it in to me by five. Pay attention, or next time it won’t be a joke.” He walked toward the door of the meeting room and turned to face you you when he heard you yelling your affirmation like an annoying parrot. “Yes, Captain! It won’t happen again!” You gave him your best salute only to have eyes rolled at you.

Levi left the room not having a clue that you almost threw up in front of him. You felt that stupid after the situation. Usually, you always felt like the rest of the world went pitch black, with only a spotlight shining on you and him, whenever he talked to you. Even when he scolded you for not doing something to his liking, you couldn’t help but focus on his devastatingly gorgeous silver eyes and how they squinted occasionally in fury, or his lips that never seemed to curve upwards and spat the ugliest words at you sometimes. It was tough love. At least that’s what you made of it.

“What happened in here? Did somebody spike the Captain’s tea? I’m very concerned.” Armin had walked into the meeting room where you stayed, replaying the conversation you just had with your handsome superior. “What are you talking about, Armin?” You ask curiously, having just seen the man acting as unfazed as always. “He smiled, Y/N. He genuinely smiled.”

You were in just as much shock as Armin was. He smiled? And I missed it?! “What were you guys talking about?” Armin sat in one of the chairs next to you. His crystal blue eyes gleamed with curiosity, wondering what was so great that it could cause the most solemn man in the scouts to crack a smile. “I zoned out while he was giving me an order, and then he told me to kill myself—not in those exact words, but, he told me to jump off of Wall Maria without any gear on. I think I made a stupid face or something, but I really thought he was ordering me to die. Then he told me the actual order.”

Armin chuckled at your retelling of the story, knowing he would have reacted the same way as Levi. “Whatever it was that you did, keep doing it! We’ve only seen Captain Levi smile once, and it’s been forever since then. Historia was crowned queen when he last smiled in front of us.” You smirked dumbly and got off the desk you were sitting on. “I’ll try my best. I gotta go, Armin. I have some paperwork to get done before Captain Levi reigns even more hell down on earth.” Armin chuckles and waves a goodbye as you leave.

It was four forty-three, and you had barely gotten anything done. With all the time you were given, you took it upon yourself to leave your work until the last minute—the procrastinating prodigy that you are. You watched everyone do their work with no thought about your own. Four forty-eight. Four fifty. Four fifty-six. Four fifty-nine. Five o’clock.

“Have you guys seen Y/N?” Levi asked Sasha, Connie, and Jean. “No, sir. She was sitting with Eren, Armin, and Mikasa when I last saw her.” Connie replied. Fucking hell, Y/N.

It was five thirty-two when you finally knocked on Levi’s door. “How nice of you to show up on time.” You heard directly inside your ear. You gasped with fear and quickly turned around. Your Captain did not look pleased at all. “Can you tell me what time it is?” You checked the clock on the wall. “Five thirty-three, sir.” Your eyes looked at everything but him. “Okay, good. Come on in.” He unlocked his office door and waited for you to walk in before slamming it shut.

You bounced slightly at the harsh sound. “You better have a damn good excuse for why my paperwork is thirty-three minutes late.” He slowly walked over to you and the stack of papers you held tightly to your chest. “Did you even do it correctly?” He snatched the stack away from you, a few papers nicking the area between your thumb and index finger. You were quick to suck on the area that bled. He looked over the work you had done, keeping the compliments he would have rewarded you with to himself. The brat is good. If only she worked faster.

“It’ll do. It’s not extraordinary work, but i’ll take it because it’s not the most important work that needed to be done.” You stopped sucking the blood from your hand and looked at him when he went silent. “Tch, use your words. Ask for a bandage or something.” He walked over to his desk and pulled out a white roll of gauze.

“Let me see.” He unstuck the beginning of the roll and returned to his spot next to you. “I can do it, sir.” You reached your undamaged hand toward the roll he held, only for him to pull it away from you. “Let me see it.” He urged, waiting for you to show him the cuts. They were surprisingly deep. You put your hand palm-up in front of you, only for him to adjust the position so that he could wrap the material around your hand correctly. The white wrapping began to turn red when it touched the blots of blood emerging from your open skin. With every layer he wrapped, less color was seen until it was just white.

Warmth was emitted through his fingers which soothed the pain in your hand a little. He let you retract your hand, watching you as you stared at the dressed wounded area. “What? Do you want me to kiss it or something?” He looked at you with an ordinary uninterested expression. Yes, please! Kiss it better. “I-I mean-“ You managed to stutter. Your cheeks flushed with heat when you realized what you had started saying. “Stop that, brat. Just stop talking.”

He walked to his desk and continued to look over the work you had done. He silently admired your considerably neat handwriting. It was as if you had typed it—the letters being all equally sized, no streaks out of line. “Right. I’m sorry.” You whispered, walking in the direction of the door. His words hit harder than usual for some reason. It was nothing to be upset about, yet you felt an unwelcome lump start forming in your throat. Maybe it’s you finally realizing that your love for him would never be reciprocated. Just being in the same room as him in that moment had you feeling more vulnerable than ever.

You mustered up the small amount of stability you had in your voice and said,”Well, if you don’t need me to do anything else, I’ll be on my way.” “That will be all.” He mumbled, not looking at you. No thank you? You saluted and left the room.

Unlike times before, Levi didn’t make your heart soar, he made it sink to the pit of your stomach, despite him touching you more than he ever has. It made you question your reasons for loving him so much. Is he worth the confusion your heart goes through when talking to the different versions of him? You’re not sure.

—

Weeks went by with you treating Levi like he was anyone but the person you longed to be with before. You still gave him the respect he deserved as your Captain, but you only talked to him when he talked to you or when you needed to deliver something to him from another one of your superiors. When he ordered you to do something, you would simply give him an affirmation and walk away. No small talk or questions. You didn’t smile like you usually did for him, and your heart wasn’t beating erratically when you accepted the duties he assigned to you.

Levi caught on to this act of yours when he started missing the way your doe eyes lingered on his as he talked to you. Now you would barely look him in the eyes. He missed the way you would try to make him laugh with a joke that had you in pain from laughing so hard. Now you only talked to him about work-related matters. He missed the way you stuttered after saying something dumb. Your voice is so steady now, and your words are chosen more carefully. He missed the clear adoration you had for him. He missed you.

Another day passed, and Levi had no excuse to talk to you. He didn’t have orders to give you. At that moment, he would’ve done anything to go back to when he would scowl at you as you laughed to your heart’s content. He would do anything to see you for more than two minutes. He would have taken the boring job of completing a pile of paperwork if it meant you were the one giving it to him and he would be able to brush his fingers against yours.

His head rested in his hands, frustrated with his inability to stomp on his pride and just walk over to wherever you were. He missed you so, so much, but he would never let you know that you were the best part of his days.

A knock came from the other end of his door. “Name and business.” He stated with his head still in his hands. “Y/LN Y/N, sir.” He perked up at the sound of your voice and he raised his head, quickly fixing the strands of hair that had moved out of place. “Commander Erwin asked me to get your signature for an important document.” He walked over and opened the door for you. “Come in.”

You entered his office and stood in front of his desk until further instruction. He shut the door quietly and walked to where you were.

“You can set the document down on my desk. I need to get a new container of ink. I’ll be back shortly.” He went to his bedroom, which connected to his office, and went through a drawer that seemed to have different supplies in it. He returned with a clear glass cube filled with black ink. He sat in his chair and read the document quickly before scribbling a beautiful rendition of his name onto the blank line at the bottom of the page.

“Here.” He flipped the paper so that it was upright to you. “Thank you, Captain.” You took the document and saluted. As you were about to leave, Levi’s voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, can you sit for a minute?” He asked, hoping you weren’t in a rush to get those documents to Erwin.

“Of course, sir.” You answer, sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

He looked slightly sad. His eyes were completely softened, eyebrows curving inward slightly. “Why haven’t you come to see me as often as you used to?” All you could think was, does it really matter whether you see me or not? “I’ve been busy. I have duties entrusted to me by others. You are not my only superior, Captain Levi.” You were okay with giving him a piece of your mind in the most respectful way possible.

“I understand that, but why are you choosing to completely avoid me unless the subject is work?” Can you be anymore needy? “I’m not.” You simply respond. That is the ugliest lie you have ever told. You are avoiding him. You are keeping yourself busy to avoid even thinking about him.

“I see. I never took you for such a shitty liar.” You suppressed the need to roll your eyes. No answer will satisfy him until he hears what he wants to hear. “Well, i’m sorry to disappoint you, sir. I’ll try not to make a habit of it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Commander Erwin said that this document needed to be returned as soon as possible.” You stood up from the wooden chair and saluted before exiting your Captain’s office.

—

The sky went dark without you realizing. You were busy all day and after the talk you had with your Captain, you were both physically and mentally tired.

As you arrived to your bedroom, not caring for the darkness that veiled your room, you let yourself fall backwards onto your bed as exhaustion creeped through your body. With your eyes closed, you lifted each of your legs and removed your boots one by one before tossing them to the ground. “Why does he suddenly care about the amount of times he’s seen me throughout the day?” You whisper to yourself as if someone would hear you.

The sound of knocking fills your ears and you pretend to have fallen asleep. “Y/N, are you in there? Are you awake?” Not now. Please. You stay silent, hoping Levi will leave you alone.

Three more knocks sound against your door. After a few seconds of complete silence, you hear the doorknob turn and the door swings open, shutting after Levi steps inside the room. “Tch, you didn’t even take your straps off.” He whispers in consideration to your ‘sleeping’ state. He sits next to you on your bed and watches your chest mimic dormant breathing. He reaches for the strap that loops around your chest and undoes the small buckle. Your chest was released and moved more freely.

By now, your act of pretending to sleep was no longer an act. You were breathing in a set rhythm through your nose.

He softly and slowly pulled your arms out of the leather that enclosed around them. You stirred a little bit before returning to the position you were in previously, on your back.

“I’m going to take care of you, my Y/N. I don’t want your skin to bruise.” He whispered while he undid your belt buckle and lowered down to work on the bands that curled tightly around your thighs. He slowly slid the rest of the leather down your calves and off completely. He got off of your bed and organized your things neatly so that you would find them easily in the morning.

“Y/N.” Levi called, shaking you softly by your arm. When you didn’t respond, he tried again. You opened your eyes slowly and squinted, furrowing your brows when you noticed someone else was there with you. “What?” You grumble, annoyed at the inability to go back to sleep. “Sorry, I need to talk to you.” That voice. You tried to spring up off the bed to salute respectfully to your Captain.

He grabbed your forearms and brought you back down to your bed. “Calm down. You don’t have to be so formal after hours.” You weren’t even asleep ten minutes, yet the drowsiness embodying you was extreme.

“Do you want me to light a candle? It’s pretty dark in here. I wasn’t expecting you or anyone else to come see me this late.” “No. I think the dark will allow courage to seep through me better.” You raised a brow in confusion. “Courage? Since when do you lack courage, Captain-“ “Levi. Just Levi between us.” “Le..vi?” He nodded with reassurance. “Since when do you lack courage in anything, Levi.”

He put his hand on your shoulder, surprised when you tensed up against the contact. He didn’t pull his hand away at the gesture, though. “I hate having to admit that I have a weakness for you, believe me, but you’re invading my thoughts every day, all the time.” This isn’t like you, Captain.

“I’m not adjusting well to this change between us. I miss the way you used to be with me. Even when I didn’t reciprocate the energy you gave off, you always managed to make feel better inside. Now that you’ve distanced yourself from me, I feel even more dead inside than usual.” His fingers stroked the fabric on your shoulder of your white button-up shirt.

“I can’t be that way with you anymore. It took me a while to realize that we’re not here to make relationships that last forever. We have the hardest job anyone could ask of us—saving humanity.” You sighed, thinking of a way to prevent yourself from hurting his feelings. “Though the thought of having you by my side is delightful, I don’t think I can go back to worshiping the ground you walk on like I did before. Our relationship should remain that of superior and subordinate.”

Levi’s head lowered. The agony he was feeling in his chest was excruciating. This last attempt to get you was sadly his final one.

“Then I have one final request.” You couldn’t help but wonder what he would want from you that he can’t get from anyone else. “Can I kiss you?” His hand that was set on your shoulder slowly made it’s way to caress your cheek. His eyes softened at the familiar look in your eyes that peered into his soul. Though you felt you should have removed his hand from the side of your face, the warmth was comforting.

“If you don’t feel anything, I promise I’ll swallow my feelings for you and leave you be. We’ll be strictly comrades, no emotional feelings involved.” He swiped your soft skin with his thumb, eyes locking with yours as he seeks a response that isn’t developed yet.

Finally. “Only once.” You whisper. He nods in acknowledgement of your instruction. His left hand attaches to your waist while his right finds your cheek again. You tremble at the foreign feeling of someone’s touch on a part of you that wasn’t an arm, a shoulder, or your back. His eyes never left yours as he slowly leaned in. God, he smelled so good. The aroma was dangerously attractive. You hoped to never come across someone that smelled the same way, that way his smell would only make you think of him.

The closer he got, the deeper his fingertips dug into your side, as if trying to pierce holes through your shirt to feel your skin.

Darkness, light—you saw both somehow. The entanglement of lips on lips was a good feeling that both of you felt mutually. He held on for as long as he could, not wanting this moment to ever end. After all, this is the first, and possibly the last time he would ever be this close to you again.

You tried to break the kiss but struggled to when you felt Levi pulling you back to connect again. It wasn’t enough for him. It was never going to be enough.

“Le..v…” You murmured indistinctly, stopping the movements from your lips completely. “No. Please…” He mumbled against your lips continuing his one-sided kiss.

It felt desperate, which was strange coming from a man like Levi who’s never begged for anything from anyone. “Come on. Kiss me.” He said with his lips pressed against yours. The feeling was undeniably good. It brought life back to the heart that stopped longing for specifically his affection.

You started moving your lips again, synchronizing quickly. His bangs tickled your forehead, causing your lips to twitch upwards.

He picked you up and placed you on his lap. Just as you were about to reach for his hair, he broke the kiss.

“I want to touch your skin, Y/N. Not in an inappropriate manner, I just need proof that this isn’t just another one of my dreams. I can’t risk going insane over another night of me just fantasizing about being your one. This shirt is the only thing standing between my hands and your soft skin—reality. I won’t touch you like that if you don’t want me to, though. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” His mouth said something, but as always, his eyes said something else. They were begging for you to allow him to feel you. His hands rested on your hips. Maybe this was going too far. What if you did let him touch your bare skin, and it progressed into something inappropriate?

With that single doubt in your mind, you responded to his request with,“Unbutton my shirt, then.” The light in his eyes was shining brighter than you had ever seen. He was visually shocked at your consent. It was clear that he was grateful to have you that night in his hold.

His hands lowered to where your shirt tucked into your pants and pulled out the fabric. Before he could move onto the buttons, he searched your expression for any signs of doubt or uncertainty. None that he could see—you were that good at keeping your thoughts to yourself.

He undid every button, not missing his chance to sneak in a brush of his fingertips here and there, on your collar bone or your sternum.

Soon enough your shirt was left wide open, revealing your black bra and newly formed goosebumps brought on by the cold wind. You turned away from Levi, flustered by his eyes on your exposed torso.

He tugged on one of the loose halves of your shirt, signaling for your attention. “Eyes on me.”Goosebumps resurfaced your skin when his knuckles brushed against your stomach. “You’re beautiful.” His soothing voice assured you as his eyes explored the unknown sight.

You were brought close once again, his lips dying to return to where he knew they belonged. Goosebumps rampaged through your body as he pulled your body closer to him by your waist. The feeling of his hands wrapped around your bare sides was absurd. You were now up against his chest. His hands traveled from your sides to your back to keep you pushed against him.

If you had to remain like this for the rest of your life, you’d do it in a heartbeat, if possible, less time.

Though it wasn’t meant to be sexual, he was leaving you breathless—quite literally. His touch made your heart pound in your chest, which he surprisingly didn’t feel, even with you pressed so tightly against him. By the sound of it, he was breathless as well.

“Mmm…Levi.” You mumbled. “Hmm?” He hummed not stopping his lips from devouring yours. “We have…to…mmm...breathe…at some point.” He snickered, smiling slightly, giving you the chance to break your lips away from his. You were able to see a slight shade of pink on his cheeks in the moonlight. Whether it was from the suffocation or the steamy moment remained a mystery.

Soft pants came from both of you, and though he let go of your lips, you weren’t fully released from his grasp. His ring and middle fingers on each hand poked at your back dimples, while his thumbs did light circular motions on the sides of your abdominal area.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, eyes glistening in the moonlight.

“I need to know what you intend to do with me, Captain. From now to…” You sigh heavily, not finding it as easy as you thought it would be to fit this conversation into the moment after what had just gone down.

Levi picks up on how tense you’ve become, seeing how stressed you suddenly look. “Hey, I’m going to listen to every word you have to say. I’m all ears, right now.” He squeezes your waist gently.

“Okay, what i’m trying to say is…I don’t want to have to mend my wounded heart every time you push me away.” You look toward the window, looking at how a cloud slowly moves in a direction that makes it collide with another cloud. To be honest, it kind of reminded you of you and Levi. The way your lives collided with each other’s, then separated, only to find each other again.

He held your chin softly between his thumb and index fingers, shifting your gaze back to him. He didn’t say anything but nodded for you to keep going. “I also don’t want to have to apologize for fulfilling my everyday duties that can lead to days of not being able to see you.” His hand released your chin and returned to the spot it was on previously, your side. It was as if he was comforting you and himself at the same time. He was hoping you wouldn’t get off, leaving him incomplete without your body weight on him.

You did exactly as he feared, almost as if you read his mind. You wanted this conversation to be as serious as possible, no distractions. You released your grasp on his shoulders and slowly began lifting yourself off of his lap. He subconsciously began letting go of your body, until he caught himself and tightened his grip, bringing you back to where you were, on his lap.

“Levi? What are you-“ “I want—no, I need you, Y/N. You know how bad it’s been on my end since you stopped talking to me like we’re the two closest people on earth? It’s been hell. Fucking hell.” His hands brushed past your sides and pushed on your back, bringing you to an embrace. Your chin landed on his shoulder and his face nuzzled into your neck. Your arms stayed by your side contrary to his which wrapped around you, brushing past the straps of your bra and settling on your upper back. You felt breaths of hot air tickle your neck as he kept talking.

“You have no clue how sad I’ve been. This is what I need from you. I don’t care if it’s something occasional. I don’t care if I only get to see you once a week, month, or year. I don’t fucking care at all. I just want you, Y/N. Please. Please, just hold me.” You could hear his calm breathing close to your ear. You lifted your arms and wrapped them around him. One hand caressed the back of his head, and the other held the mid-section of his back.

He was breathing in your scent discreetly. Black hair tickles your bare shoulder, exposed by your sagging button-up shirt. You ran your fingers through his locks of hair, smoothing down any strands that stood out.

“This feels right.” He mumbled before placing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “I want to feel your heartbeat and your warmth against me like this whenever I can.” His lips continued to brush against your skin slowly.

Minutes went by, not a word was spoken. When you tried to escape his caging hold to continue your conversation, he would just pull you close again nuzzling back into your neck. He was being really clingy tonight—not that you were complaining, it was just a odd.

“We can keep talking like this.” He mumbled. “Okay.” You whispered running your hand across his undercut.

“Are you sure you want a relationship where we won’t have every minute of the day together? I know it’ll be hell for me.” You could feel him smiling slightly against your neck. “Yes, Y/N. I know we won’t have much time in the day together, but we haven’t been taking nights into consideration.” Goosebumps crawled throughout your body when you felt his lips latch onto your neck again.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Shit. Shit. Shit. Relax. “I’m willing to be even more nocturnal for you. I also wouldn’t mind waking up next to you every morning.” He dragged his thumb across the damp spot on your neck where his lips rested before. “That s-sounds good.” You stutter noticeably. “What’s wrong?” He holds your face in his hands, clearly unable to fake concern. A smirk tugs at his lips. This man knows what he’s doing.

“Nothing. I’m okay.” You assure with a soft smile. “Okay, just making sure. You know…” He starts leaning in again, aiming for your neck. He knows your weak spot now, and you can’t even hide it.

“…I really like…” He kisses the sensitive skin lightly, basking in the way you shudder. “…spending time with you like this. How about you?” As you open your mouth to answer, he leans in again.

“I…fuck.” You grab onto his arm as he nibbles on the flesh that became more and more sensitive with every second that his lips spent on it. “Hmm?” He hummed against your skin. “I didn’t catch that.” He tilted your head to his left to give him more room. More room to litter you with his markings. “I do…” You inhale sharply when he bites the area under the bruising skin he just sucked on. “…too.” He soothes the imprinted skin with his index and middle fingers.

“Good. Tell me, sweet girl, what’s your favorite time of day?” The movement of his fingers slowed, as he pressed gently on the sore parts. His gaze focused intensely on your peaceful features as sighs escaped your lips with every delicate prod of his fingers. He hoped you would say nighttime, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give you all the daytime with him that you wished for. Also, nighttime would be the time he would spend with you, making sure you were feeling every good thing you could feel. Happiness, pleasure, excitement, pleasure, love, satisfaction, security, domination, care, submission. You know? The good things.

“Nighttime. That’s my favorite time of day.” He smiled, satisfied with your answer. “It’s my favorite now, too.” The movement of his fingers on your neck stopped. He looked outside at the moon, remembering the important work he left behind when he decided to look for you. “I should get going.” You frowned slightly which he quickly took notice of. “I know, I wish I didn’t have to, but I ditched a lot of my work to come find you.”

You dragged your thumb across his half-swollen lips before closing the space between you two and kissing him once more. You released him and said in a whisper,“I understand. Thank you for being here with me tonight.” You got off of his lap and transitioned to a cross-legged position on your bed. He caressed your cheek in an endearing manner, before saying,”I’m glad things are the way they are for us now.” He let you go, and began walking to your door. You fixed your shirt so that you looked presentable again.

“Levi, wait.” “Yes?” He asked, holding onto the doorknob. “Did you take the straps from my uniform off of me?” He let out a low chuckle. “Yes, I did. They would have bruised your beautiful skin if I hadn’t taken them off.” “I could have done it myself, but thank you for that.” You felt cared for. It was such a soft concept to think about. He nodded and continued his exit, a small smile on his face as he shut the door behind him.

I’m the only one who should be wrapped around you and leaving marks in those areas at night.

[datawyrms]

snap

It is The Day I post my Invisobang fic! it was a wild ride to write everything and not post. This is actually the second fic I did, as the first fell into my pit of ‘i hate it now’ and will sit in limbo for the rest of eternity. I teamed up with Spirit ( @ghostportals ), who has done some accompanying art! That, and Red @redead-red saved my bacon by doing some betaing last moment, so tell em they’re great too. Hope you’re all enjoying the flood of finished fics and art this week! Only the first chapter is here, the rest is posted on my Ao3 and complete. hope you enjoy!

One careless fall changed Danny's life forever. He was kind of hoping one fall like that was enough for any lifetime. Clearly fate disagreed.

It's fine though! He's got this. He's fine. He can totally explain why he ran off with his own body to mom and dad.

The stairs had always been a little too steep, a titch too narrow, but he was used to them. Jazz worried too much- the whole Fenton family knew how to take them two steps at a time. He wasn’t going to admit she might have a point just because he’d slipped one time. He wished there was a railing to catch himself with- it would have spared him some of the pain of his head knocking on the stair.

It didn’t hurt that much. Plenty of ghosts hit harder, and far more frequently.

“Took a bit of a spill eh, Danno?”

Great, dad saw him slip like he was three again. He wanted to speak, wave his behemoth of a father off before he got tangled up in some long lecture about whatever they were working on down here. Just had to sit up.

He was a little stunned or something. All those late nights made his limbs rebel when he wanted them to hurry up. Come on, before he tries to help and accidentally shaves his hair off with some anti-ghost stepladder or something.

His arms stubbornly rejected his internal horror story. His attempt to say ‘I’m fine’ was more a gurgle than anything. Way to go, Fenton. Do everything to get dad to worry! Really using those genius genes. Jazz probably stole his anyway, or they got fried in the accident. Come on! A bit of self berating should have him sitting bolt upright by now. Maybe his arm twitched. He felt something move, anyway. More like a muscle spasm.

“Danny? You okay?” The large man came closer, his usual jog slowed.

Of course he’s fine. He could see dad, sort of. He totally moved his eyes to see him better, even. Stupid ghost powers were just acting up.  It’s okay,  just give me a second to stand up. You’re worrying over nothing.

 Jack had already made it over, crouching to get a better look at his fallen son. Like he was trying to look smaller or something with how carefully he was moving. Where was all that slow, ginger movement when he was driving? Or trying to tell them about some new invention that might burn off your eyebrows?

 I’m fine, dad. He couldn’t get the words to come out, but he was just fine. He really didn’t like the strange look on his father’s face. After all, ‘Jack Fenton doesn’t know the meaning of the word fear’ or whatever random thing he felt like shouting when chasing after entities from another dimension. Come on dad, stop looking like that. It was creeping him out. Moving should be easy, a snap, but part of him didn’t feel like doing it. Apparently an important part? He could visualize exactly what to do, but he wasn’t sitting up. He swore he could feel his muscles clenching but not finishing the movement. Maybe they were testing something down here that just made all the ectoplasm hiding inside him take a nap. His ectoplasm was so fired after this.

 “Can you look at me kiddo?”

 Coaxing him. This was weird. Why wasn’t he just hauling him off the floor and laughing about how clumsy he was at his age too? Looking at him was easy. Pretty hard to miss him, with all the bright orange.

 “Maddie? Can you come over here?” His question was strangely stilted, not much of a bellow.

 Dad was going to get the wrong idea because his body didn’t want to cooperate. Great. Fantastic. He could feel the warmth in his chest, the sign his heart was still going. He was just fine, just a bit inconvenienced at the moment. Why couldn’t dad just be  dad  and do something dumb like pick him up with one hand while sounding way too excited about some new tool that he built?

 “What’s wrong?” His mom said, her footsteps doing the same thing dad’s had. Speed that suddenly cut down to almost nothing. “Danny, did you hit your head?”

 “I think he might have, he’s not responding. I didn’t want to try to move him-“

 “You did great Jack, it’s okay.”

 Gross. He hoped they didn’t get caught up in one of their lovey dovey circles while he was stuck trying to get his stupid legs to remember how to do things. He was responding! He groaned, and he definitely twitched a bit. Weren’t they paying attention? He tried again, a bit more forcefully and ignoring the pang in his neck. More of a jolt from someone with too much static cling than actual pain, really.

 “Should I call 911? He isn’t moving! He just stayed there- didn’t even act all tough for his old man!”

 Jack was panicking.  Dad was panicking. Over nothing! Why wasn’t mom distracting him with fudge or some random study? No one was being normal today. Danny shuddered, he knew he did, it went with the pulse under his skin.

 “That’d be great sweetie, just stay close.”

 “In case you need my big strong arms to help carry him, right?”

 “Just in case.” She wasn’t wearing the hood of her jumpsuit, at least.

 It didn’t make it more comfortable when she crouched down, biting her lip and staring at him. Like this was concerning. It was the opposite of that, he was a klutz, a gangly teenager, it was normal for him to be a bit banged up. This shouldn’t concern her, or anyone. The only reason it bugged him was the not being able to move right now nonsense.

 “You aware in there sweetie?” she said, rather loudly and clapping near his ear.

  Yes I am, but I can’t tell you. Maybe he could focus on taking a breath and it would kick off whatever turned off his mind to body connection. Had he done anything strange before coming down here? Not really. He could absolutely feel her digging her nails into his earlobe though, ow! More motivation to move, but something wasn’t getting across. Maybe he was getting a bit freaked out about it too. Only because of his parents being weird. He was fine, he had to be fine. It was nothing, less than nothing.

 “I’m just going to make sure he’s still breathing Jack, do you have anyone on the line yet?”

 A loud response, but not to her question. “No it’s not a ghost emergency! It’s a human emergency!”

 Of course he was breathing. He couldn’t look that bad from such a small fall. Just breathe out the words ‘Hey mom, personal space’ and they’d laugh and it’d be nothing. All this fussing was making his skin crawl but of course he had to have ‘special ghost freezing up’. Was it his ice powers? Like he could get his powers being snarky like that, appreciated it in a twisted sort of way- but it would be better around people who wouldn’t assume the worst? Like anyone else. Even Dash.

 “Tell the operator he isn’t breathing.” Maddie’s voice was cold and controlled, even as she went back to biting her lip right after.

 He was totally breathing. He could feel the air that ran in and out of his lungs, the swell and fall that other ghosts knew as a weak point, a way to slow him down. He knew what being doubled over, air shoved right out of him from a harsh blow felt like, how it felt like the portal again. Throat twitching, body heaving and trying to regain what it lost. The darkness that bit at the edges of his vision as every nerve went screaming  You’re Dying . Hated that feeling, shook the ghosts who did that hard once they were in a thermos. This was nothing like that.

 “He isn’t breathing, you need to hurry! My wife knows CPR- just tell them to hurry this is my  son , please”

 Yelling to hide the quaver in his voice. Like a kicked puppy yelping. It sounded so wrong. This was going to be so awkward after. They’d just...pretend this never happened, right? That’d be for the best. No, he was going to get grounded forever for some ‘dumb prank’, since he was fine and worried them so much. Which didn’t seem too bad if it stopped all of...this.

 He moved a little. A toe, he was pretty sure. More notably was his mother, carefully getting him off the uneven stair to be flat on his back. Trying to keep his head from moving, and she couldn’t see he was looking at her? When she was this close? Too busy trying to be calm. Who could be busy enough to think he wasn’t breathing or tracking with his eyes? Another twitch, another inward curse that he couldn’t get back in control.

 “Just hold on, help is coming.” She said, but the half ghost couldn’t tell who she meant, exactly. Him, dad or herself? Either way the quiet remark did not prepare him for the sheer force slammed into his crest. Like she wanted to slam right through him! Was it so much to ask that his parents stop nearly killing him by trying to help? Just try moving again and everything will be fine.

 He couldn’t keep the mental mantra up when he heard- when he felt his ribs crack from the pointless force. She was killing him, he didn’t need help breathing, he had to get it through to them no matter how much his body buzzed and resisted his need to move. He had to focus and push through it, ignoring how cold and wrong it felt, how it seemed like he was squirming free of something that didn’t want him to go.

 Her bone crushing assault stopped once he got his arm up, not even needing to touch her before she froze. The fear was wrong, out of place so he redoubled his efforts, twisting and struggling against himself, the sticky mass that wasn’t letting him act or speak to calm them down.

 The phone hit the floor. He heard it. So why didn’t dad say anything? Danny twisted, wanting to make sure he was okay. Still stuck. At least he had a hand free and most of an arm, the edges of his fingers tracing the tiles of the floor. He could brace himself that way, pushing down hard to try and jar his shoulder loose. He could hear air moving, like a harsh breath out. Good- breathing was good. Even when it sounded so harsh and low. 

 “Jack- are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Maddie moved back, giving him the space he wanted ever since she’d cracked his ribs. They still stung under his skin, hissing at him to keep his parents away before he managed to get even more injuries over something so silly.

 “I’m not sure what we’re seeing.” The phone remained on the floor.

 That didn’t seem right. He’d sat up, mostly. Half sat up, propped up with an arm. Still mostly stuck and uncomfortable, the snapping and crackling sensation still clinging to his free shoulder. Really, he felt worse than how he started. at least there wasn’t pain in ‘hah my body is playing freeze tag without me’ land. The pulling sensation made his head ache and vision swim to the point he wasn’t actually sure if he was still looking at the ceiling or not. He couldn’t go back to just being frozen though, that’d suck. So just convince the rest of himself to get up. No problem!

Were lies in his head always this unconvincing? It felt like yanking himself free of a too sticky slime, strands clinging and tugging back until they finally snapped, parts still stuck but free of the main mass. At least ectoplasm had the decency not to stretch when you got drenched in it most of the time.  Come on, focus and keep it together.  He let out a wheeze as the last stubborn strands snapped, ignoring how loud it sounded to properly reorient himself.

 Sitting up, properly, good! Parents staring with weird, half horrified expressions: bad. Very, very bad. 

“I’m okay, I just fell.” Danny spoke, he could speak properly again. So why? “Sorry for scaring you guys?” He tried again, trying to ignore the first thought across his mind.

 They kept staring. Maddie seemed to be recovering, shoulders starting to relax, but she seemed to be reaching for her belt.

 He didn’t sound right. No, that wasn’t quite right, he just sounded wrong for Danny  Fenton. Who he should be right now, he hadn’t been able to talk, let alone go ghost. This probably looked really, really bad. How had he switched, anyway?

Mom was reaching for a gun, wasn’t she? Crud. Now he regretted talking at all, how was he going to explain why Danny Phantom was treating two ghost hunters like his parents? Or how he managed to look like their kid. Maybe he could change back and convince them they were seeing things?

Yeah no, that was way too dumb.

 “Wait.” Jack rested a hand on his wife’s shoulder, causing her to stop pulling the weapon. He wasn’t looking at the ghost at all, just her. Maddie remained stiff, not able to ignore the glowing kid on her floor.

 Okay...dad was usually the gung ho one. Maybe he could get away with this? Danny tried to get a better grip on the situation. Felt a new pain, sharp and cold in his throat. Deep green scars clashed against his white gloves and ran all across his jumpsuit,  glow intensifying as the panic choked him into silence. Fresh and angry like back- back before he managed to stumble out of the portal when he died when the accident happened.

With his human arms just as scared below them, still against the tile. The damage looked old, half scabbed over with only a dull glow deep in the death marks wounds. His arms attached to the rest of his body- that he was half out of. 

 Why? How was his body still and silent while he was sitting and looking at it. He’s cold. His body is cold. It isn’t  breathing  there isn’t some other facet of his personality sitting behind the dull blue eyes. This isn’t how it works! If he splits, it’s just temporary, he can fix it but his other half- corpse is wrong.

The pulling and clinging at his legs doesn’t feel like slime anymore. Rotting flesh that wants to drag him back, smother him in a cloying warmth that will only remind him why it burned, how it hurt. He had to move, he couldn’t stay half like this, it would get better once it wasn’t like this.

It didn’t want to let go as he tried to pull away, ectoplasm getting snagged on every nerve and muscle fiber, each pause a reminder of the shock and pain of his end that day.

He knew he screamed when he pulled free and slammed into the wall, furious green scars still marring his jumpsuit where there should be none.

 What would Mom and Dad think?

 No no no no no. He spotted movement from them and acted. He couldn’t let his mom break his body more, or look at it too closely. Dad couldn’t see what happened! This was fine, he could fix this!

 He grabbed his corpse and fled through the wall.

[wunderlustwriter]

another george weasley imagine pt 2

pt. 1

tw: mentions of violence (just draco being a bully) slight blood (nothing graphic)

when george leaves your table your friends both start staring and bombarding you with questions

“omg, are you doing it with a weasley??” “Nai! shut up? they could just be talking... but are you doing it with a weasley?!?” naiomi and selena ask

you laugh and tell them all about the project and hanging out for the past two days “okay but he is so into you. you should’ve seen the way he was looking at you when you were telling off malfoy” naiomi says “yeah, he was totally smitten, and you’ve only known eachother for a day or two? talk about pussy powers”

“yeah yeah whatever you say guys, it’s almost 8 so I’m going to go work on my project with my class mate and nothing more” you say, but as you walk away selena shouts out “YET!”

you keep laughing to yourself until you get to the end of the corridor and see three lone figures “shit” you mumble

you cross your fingers and hope that it’s not crabbe, goyle, and malfoy, but your dreams are soon shattered once you hear “Well well well, if it isn’t y/l/n.”

“that’s step mommy y/l/n to you. and what? was that verbal beating you just took too big of a slap to your pride you feel the need to approach me three to one for what’s going to inevitably end in some kind of brawl? because i’m so not looking forward to that.” you say through a yawn

they don’t say anything, just keep on approaching and reaching into their robes for their wands “shit”

you quickly pull out your wand and point it at malfoy “Solum Silere!” ((to always be silent)) he dodges it but the spell still lands on goyle

draco quickly points at you and shouts “everte statum” you move to the side dodging the brute of the spell but you still get knocked back a couple of yards and into the wall where you fall to your knees

you wait until you see crabbe about to say a spell before you mumble “protego” making the spell he tried to knock you out with reflect back upon him and he passes out.

“looks like your little henchmen didn’t last malfoy. you can either leave now with your buddies and we both agree to never speak of this again, or get ready to face me fair and square and get your ass kicked”

“oh you’d love a nice and easy fair match wouldn’t you? well too bad you’re about to get anything but!” draco shouts a spell to produce a large venomous snake but nothing happens because someone down the corridor shouts “Expelliarmus!” at the exact same time and draco’s wand is tossed to the side before the spell can complete.

“Oh you ass!” you say as you take a few steps towards him and lay a sharp hook directly onto his temple. “That’s for being an untrustworthy duel partner” you say before you give him a harsh kick in the balls. “And thats for ganging up on me with dumb and dumber over there.” you knock his wand at least 20 feet away from him as you lean over and say “It’d be better for your pride and your image if you told no one about this. Imagine how upset Daddy would be if he heard that you and your goons failed to take out a half blood even though you outnumber her three to one? That’d suck for you. And if you try to twist the story of what happened here in any way to get me or my friends in trouble then I am not afraid to make it seem like you and your idiots tried to do a whole lot worse to me. remember. you’re not the only one with influence.”

he slowly nods and by the time you’re done George has caught up to you “hey, y/n, are you okay?”

“yeah, i’ll survive. let’s go.”

“hold up, you’re bleeding” he says, tapping some blood off of your cheek with a napkin from his pocket “come with me” he takes your hand and leads you to the prefect bathroom near gryffindor tower

“i snagged the password sheet from oliver yesterday after a rough quidditch practice. don’t tell anyone”

“awe, i’m so proud, my little pickpocket in the making” you say laughing as you enter the room and look around

in the middle was a magnificent overflowing bath that never went cold and never emptied. there was four stalls with two sinks and grand mirrors on either side of the bath

george motions for you to come by the sinks so you sit up on the counter next to him “do you usually have to deal with those goons cornering you like that?” he says as he wets a napkin and rings it out

he’s gently patting your cheek as you wince slightly and speak “yes and no. we’ve always given eachother problems because i’m not afraid of the Malfoy Squad but they’ve never ganged up on me like that before”

“shit, i’m sorry, but it looks like you held your own pretty nicely, huh? how’s your knuckles?”

“oh, they’re fine, a little bruised, a little sore, but it’s fine. and thanks, the outcome might’ve been very different if it wasn’t for your perfect timing. i think draco was trying to launch a snake at me that bastard.”

“i barley did anything, but you on the other hand went into total badass mode. remind me to never get in a fight with you.” he laughs and holds the dry towel to your cheek

you chuckle along before you both make eye contact and just stare into each other’s eyes for who knows how long. he glances down at your lips and you do the same as the space between you seems to get shorter

swallowing you finally come to your senses and clear your throat “right, well we should probably get on that project tonight.” you both are finally out of your daze and start to make your way out.

“thanks again for helping me” you say, trying to break the tension

he nods “yeah, of course, don’t mention it, love.” a minute or two of comfortable silence passes before george speaks up again. “hey this might be weird but do u want to work in the gryffindor common room today? or just not work at all. that was one hell of a duel you just had.”

“hmmm... okay, compromise. we go to the common room, do an hour of work, then just chill?”

“sounds perfect” he says grinning as you come to the portrait of the fat lady.

by the time you enter the common room about an hour or so has passed since dinner and everyone is dispersed throughout the tower. but when you walk inside and the portrait door closes behind you everyone turns their attention onto you and your green scarves before they start clapping and hollering

you look at george like 👁👄👁 tf

“oh yeah, i definitely told everyone that would listen about what happened with malfoy at dinner. like i said, you’re a badass and a saint.”

you blush and nervously chuckle at that before he pushes you towards the couches closest to the main fireplace. people are patting your back as you walk and you can hear the girls (and some guys) cheering a little louder than the rest.

seems like Lucius Malfoy has officially obtained that status of DILF

“hey hermione” you say when everyone is done approaching you and sit on the couch across from her while george went off to go do something

“y/n? what’re you doing here? and what happened to your cheek?”

“oh, george and I have a project to work on but I had to duel malfoy and his imbeciles while they tried to corner me before hand .“

“You fought malfoy?!?!?” she all but screams for the half of the common room to hear, and they do.

“hell yeah she did” george says, coming up behind you with a bag of ice “here, use this for your knuckles”

you roll your eyes but smile and thank him anyways, putting the bag over your dominant hand as he hops over the couch and plops down next to you “she took ‘em out one by one, even when draco tried to sneak attack her and again when he tried to do the snake thing he did on harry last year. ended it with a nice hook and hard kick to the nads.” george winces at that last part

“okay it really wasn’t that big of a deal, and you’re the one who stopped draco from conjuring the snake. talk about perfect timing” you said while pulling out your books and notes for the project

“eh, that’s a minor detail love, either way it was bad ass.”

“yeah yeah yeah, well our ass is going to be beat if we don’t get this project done so focus for me.”

“okay okay, Sunshine. time to learn about thistle root”

the two of you keep working with your heads in books, talking to each other every few minutes about anything important you find, george taking notes for you bc, as per his orders, you can’t write until you’re done icing

hermione looks up from her homework every few minutes just to watch you guys and smile. she notices how he always stops what he’s doing to listen to you, and how you can’t help but smile at every joke he makes or every nose scrunch he does when his book gets too confusing. how he reaches over to grab you a blanket and throw it over you when you shiver slightly, and how you both have gotten so effortlessly close in the past three days.

she keeps smiling and silently excuses herself so you guys can have the room alone

when you’re done reading your section, you start looking around the warm room and taking everything in. out of the corner of your eye you see george watching you and smiling, causing a blush to rise in your cheeks. trying to play it off you say “wow i don’t know what i expected the gryffindor house to look like but this makes a lot of sense. it’s cozy and fiery, i don’t mind it.”

george slowly tears his eyes from you and looks around, nodding at what you say

“yup. the fire is always on, blankets are everywhere, there’s a mini kitchen that’s always stocked, and the house elves are always bringing different snacks for first years and night owls.”

“sounds nice, in the slytherin dungeon we have these water falls and an amazing view of the lake. but it’s always cold so there’s blankets literally everywhere, and we have a cozy fire surrounded by different chase lounges. plus there’s always someone playing the piano, whether it’s a student, elf, ghost, or the object itself.”

“wow. i always just assumed that the slytherins either had some dingey and moldy or pompous and stuffy hidden place in a far corner of the castle.”

“yeah, there’s more to us than meets the eye. but gryffindors and even ravenclaws are so quick to write us off as evil and brooding that no one notices. except for hufflepuffs, our two houses are always having parties or smoking sessions.”

“yeah, i guess you’re right and- wait did you just say smoking sessions” george says, turning to face you with a bewildered look on his face

“yes, gryffindors aren’t the only ones allowed to have fun you know.”

“wow... hey, i have a question, is snape a prick to you guys? or does he just reserve that for my house?”

“i mean he’s a douchebag, especially to first years, but as a general rule he’s more lenient on us. so that’s always a plus, but it balances out because nearly half of the teachers hate us and undermine our work in class”

the two of you just kept talking about your houses and classes and everything you’ve experienced at this school in the past 6 years and before you know it you’re waking up at 7 in the morning when fred and ginny are shaking the both of you awake for breakfast

taglist: @gaycatlord-stuff

a/n: y’all i still haven’t gotten to my dream part 😭😭 but please lmk if you think this is too cheesy or dramatic LMAO. if you’ve read this far i love you and yes i am hoping to make this a mini series but no i won’t be writing it like an actual novel. i find these bullet points motivate me to actually write more and better while it still gives you guys enough satisfaction (hopefully) and leave some room for imagination

pt. 3

[multifandombookstore]

Thinking of You

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader Genre: angst, fluff Warnings: kidnapping, blood, torture, mentions of BDSM??, noncon kissing, degradation, shooting, death Summary: the reader is taken by the unsub and she starts to hallucinate a certain dork Word Count: 4.7k words

All you can see is red and, no, it’s not from anger. Well, maybe a little bit of that too.

Blood trickles down your forehead into your eyes, your vision blurring with every drop that drips from your wound. With your hands tied up like this, you can’t wipe the blood from your eyes. With your head pounding, you try to remember how you got here. 

You playfully punch Spencer’s shoulder with a laugh, watching him rub his arm where you hit him. “There’s no way that actually happened!” you shout once you calm your laughter. You watch Spencer smile and nod his head, still rubbing his arm. 

“It did! You can ask Hotch,” he replies. He was telling you a story that happened before you joined the team as you two drove to the jet for a case. 

“There’s no way Garcia actually said that to Morgan on speaker! How was she not fired?” you ask incredulously, starting to cackle once more. He laughs along with you, remembering the shock on Morgan’s face when she said it to him. 

“I wish you would’ve been there to see it. Everyone’s face was priceless,” he says, his voice softer than before. You calm yourself again and look over at him, your heart warming at the sight of him. It was still pretty early in the morning, so the sun was shining right in his eyes as you drove, the sun visor doing nothing to protect his beautiful eyes. 

You’ve been on the team for about a year and a half now and it’s honestly been a wild adventure after the next. You were only supposed to stay on the team for a year but, of course, Spencer convinced you to stay and it honestly didn’t take that much convincing. You loved this team as your second family now and you couldn’t imagine working anywhere else or with anyone else. 

You park the car and get out, heading towards the jet where everyone else is walking to. Seeing Morgan, you quickly drag your luggage over to him and start teasing him. You watch him sigh and move his head to glare back at Spencer. You and Spencer start laughing again as you climb the steps, leaving Morgan to stare after the two of you. 

“Oh, you think that’s funny do you?” he asks you two, a playful lilt to his voice. You nod your head, trying to stop your laughter but Spencer kept cracking you up. “Reid, should I tell (Y/n) here about the peach incident?” Morgan asks him with a smirk. Instantly Spencer stops laughing and blushes a dark pink, shaking his head. “That’s what I thought,” he finishes as he sits across from the pair. 

“What? Peach Incident? I wanna know!” you say with a new light to your eyes, looking between the two males. Blackmail on Spencer? Who would’ve thought that existed. 

“No. Nothing happened. He’s bluffing,” Spencer stutters out, his face growing darker, causing Morgan to laugh. The others start to chuckle to themselves, finding the three of you amusing. 

You all stop when Hotch comes to sit down with his fresh cup of coffee, his voice serious as he starts to discuss the case. You all go around tossing ideas out, trying to brainstorm different answers. The flight went by in a minute, it feels like. Then again, your attention was on Spencer for more than half of the ride. The others have never seen you two go more than fifteen minutes without talking to the other. 

Once you touch down in a new state, you all pile out and into the cars waiting for you. You and Spencer take the back of one car while Rossi and Morgan take the front. “This unsub is kinda harsh,” you say softly, looking over the file again. 

“What makes you say that?” Rossi asks curiously, wanting to hear more of your input. 

“I mean, we’ve seen some things in our day but this? This just seems so...ruthless,” you say quietly, looking down at the pictures. Maybe you only thought it was worse than the others because all of these women kind of look like you. 

“Yeah, the stabbing of the genitalia is an overkill. I thought maybe he knew these women but maybe he just hates women in general. Since they all look similar, my guess is that they’re a surrogate for someone,” Morgan replies. You nod your head, trying not to imagine what pain these three women felt before being killed. 

Once you reach the station, you all walk in and set up in an extra room that they’ve allowed for you to use while here. From there, Hotch gives you all your orders. “JJ, Reid. I want you to go interview the two families that showed up today. Morgan, (Y/n). I want you two to go give the second family a visit. See why they haven’t been answering any of the police’s calls. Blake, we are going to go look at the kill sight where the last body was found.” 

With everyone having their orders, you all disperse out of the station. You give Spencer a goodbye smile before following Morgan to one of the cars. “So, peach incident?” you ask as soon as you two are enclosed inside of the car. He laughs as he starts the black vehicle, looking around him as he pulls out of the parking lot. 

“How did I know you were going to ask me again as soon as I heard we were paired up,” he teases with a smile. You grunt and look over at him, placing your cheek into your hand as you watch him drive. 

“C’mon, just tell me! I won’t tell Spencer that I know!” you plead. He scoffs at that, trying to hold back his laugh. 

“Yes, you will. I’m not dumb,” he replies as he checks his GPS to make sure he’s driving the right way. You let out a long groan and dramatically throw your head back against the headrest. Guess you’ll have to blackmail or guilt-trip him if you ever want to get that information. 

He parks the car on the road and checks the GPS once more to make sure that you two have the right address. “Well, this house is...interesting,” you comment as you study the exterior. I mean, it wasn’t terrible but you can tell by the yard and the house’s structure that they don’t take care of it very well. 

“Does anyone even live here?” Morgan asks half playfully as he steps out of the car, making you do the same. You two walk up the driveway and to the front door, both of you staying quiet for a moment to see if you can hear anyone inside. 

Hearing nothing, Morgan knocks on the door. “Hello? Anyone home?” he calls loudly. You both wait for a long moment, hearing nothing once more. 

“Despite their yard, I saw a shed and greenhouse in the back. Maybe they’re back there?” you guess, turning away from the door to look at Morgan. He silently nods his head before turning around and going back the way you two came. You two walk around the house and into the backyard, the dead grass crunching underneath your feet. 

“I can check the greenhouse while you check the shed,” he offers, leaving you to agree and split away from him. You walk over to the shed, noticing the lock is missing from the door. You take one last glance at Morgan before slowly opening the shed door. 

“Hello?” you call, looking into the poorly lit area. There were lots of boxes along with tools lining the wall. You look around the area, looking for clues as to if they’ve killed anyone here or with any of the equipment. You stop at a workbench, seeing tools and papers littering the desk. You pull a glove from your pocket, starting to move the papers around to read them. 

All of a sudden, you hear wood bending and creaking underneath someone’s weight. You turn around to look at Morgan, only to find a tall man with a shovel. Then, you don’t see anything except for black. 

You grunt at the memory, feeling your head throb as you recall the events. The edge of the shovel must’ve been what caused the injury on your head. You don’t doubt that you have a concussion. With blood still dripping into your eyes, you try to figure out where you are. From the looks of it, you’re in an abandoned factory of sorts. 

You tug on your arms again and feel something wrapped around your wrists, holding your arms out behind you. This is also keeping you sat up, the strain of whatever is binding you too great for you to slouch forward. You tilt your head back, hoping to get the blood out of your eyes. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been out for nor do you know how long it is until someone shows up. You bring your head back down and watch as the same man as before walks over to you with a handheld toolkit. He gets down on one knee and then opens up the kit. 

“Are you Mr. Jenkins?” you ask softly, finding your throat a bit dry. He ignores you, pulling out a cloth and dousing it in saline solution. He then cleans your wound, not bothering to be gentle about it. You don’t make a peep though, remaining quiet as to not irritate or upset him and make him stop. Once done with that, he dries the area before wrapping gauze around your head. There’s still caked blood on your face and with your injury, you’re not sure cleaning it up and wrapping it was the best way to go but you suppose this is better than nothing. Besides, you can’t even see how bad your injury is. Maybe it feels worse than it actually is. 

When he deems his job done, he packs everything back into his kit before standing up. “Wait!” you call weakly, watching him not even hesitate to leave you alone once more. You sigh and look around, finding it much easier to see now. After some time has passed, you feel a streak of blood start to trail down your face. You were right, the wound is bigger than he’s letting on. 

You tilt your head back to keep the blood from getting in your eyes again, closing your eyes since all you’re looking at is a ceiling. You take a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to think of a way out of this situation. Already knowing the answer, you bring your head up for a moment to check to see if you still have your gun. Confirming that you indeed don’t have it, you tilt your head back again. You then wondered if he knows you’re not just a random person that wandered into his shed. Your badge is in your coat though, so you can’t check to see if it’s gone or not. You’re guessing he checked all of your pockets before leaving you alone though.

Guess you just need to remain calm and wait to see what happens.

Morgan walks into the greenhouse, finding dead and withering plants scattered around. Despite no one being inside, he starts to look around for evidence or hints as to what these people really do. 

He stops his snooping when he hears a truck on gravel, his boots stepping on dead plants and dried leaves as he walks towards the exit. What he finds though isn’t at all what he’s expecting. 

There you are, limp in someone’s arms and being tossed into the bed of a truck. “Hey! Stop!” he shouts, pulling out his gun as he starts running. The guy, knowing he’s been caught, starts to run to the driver’s door. Morgan aims his gun at the driver and fires, the first shot just missing by a couple of inches. With the man in the truck and starting to drive off in his truck, Morgan shoots at the tires. He curses loudly when he misses or the bullets don’t do anything to stop the driver, simply slowing him down a little. Morgan memorizes as much of the plate as he can before the truck disappears around the corner. 

Morgan curses loudly again and takes out his phone, calling Hotch. With everyone alerted, they all come to the Jenkin’s home. Caution tape is put up at the entrance of the property to keep nosy neighbors at bay, forensics showing up and starting to take pictures of the crime scene. 

Everyone turns when JJ and Reid pull up in another car, knowing that this isn’t going to be good. Reid is in front of them in practically a second, his eyes wide and fearful. “What happened? Where is she?” he spits out faster than anyone can decipher. Morgan, already knowing what he was going to say, places his hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, calm down. Take a breath,” he says calmly, hoping Reid won’t lash out. Lash out is exactly what Reid did though. 

“Calm down? How am I supposed to be calm when (Y/n) was taken by someone? Look at all the blood! She’s probably bleeding out! What were you doing? Why weren’t you here to protect her?” Why wasn’t I here to protect her?

“Reid,” Hotch warns, stepping up beside Morgan. Morgan sighs and looks over at the blood, a frown hanging heavy on his face. “Morgan, tell us what happened now that everyone is here,” Hotch commands. 

Morgan sighs again, refusing to look at them. “(Y/n) and I knocked on the door and there was no answer. She then pointed out that there was a shed and greenhouse in the backyard, and that they might be in there. So, she took the shed while I took the greenhouse. I was looking around inside when I heard a truck. I come out of the greenhouse to see...to see our unsub carrying her to the back of the truck. I called out to him as I drew my gun, starting to fire as he escaped.” 

Everyone stays quiet for a moment after he finishes, no one really knowing what to say. Reid, of course, is the first one to speak. “You should’ve been with her. You shouldn’t have separated. You—”

“Reid,” JJ interrupts, placing her hand onto his back. “You can’t blame him. All of us probably would’ve done the same to cover more ground quicker,” she says softly, trying to soothe him. His hands clench into fists, his eyes stinging with the want of tears. He can’t cry though, not here. 

“I’m sorry. Let’s just work hard to bring her back,” he mumbles, staring at the red ground. 

It’s been a couple of days, you know that much. Mr. Jenkins hasn’t given you any food and has only given you enough water to not die from dehydration. You’ve barely slept a wink, the position you’re in keeping you upright. Besides, you’re too worried and scared to actually close your eyes for long. 

You’re assuming that Mr. Jenkins doesn’t own this property or else the gang would’ve found you by now. You wonder how Spencer is handling this.

“Well, I’m quite upset, I’ll tell you that much.” 

You turn your head to the side, finding Spencer leaning against an old, rundown machine. A smile comes to your face just from the sight of him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you,” you reply hoarsely, your throat dry as a bone and begging for water. He smiles back and walks over to you, squatting down in front of your slouched figure. 

“That’s quite the bump on your head,” he says as he runs his fingers over your wound. You can’t feel his touch though. 

“How did you find me?” you ask, wondering why he isn’t freeing you. 

“You know, I kind of like you tied up like this,” he teases, a smirk spreading across his face. You feel your face heat up at his words, your eyes now avoiding his face. 

“Spencer, I don’t think now is the time for us to be talking about this,” you stutter out. He chuckles at your embarrassment, his hand moving to cup your cheek but you still can’t feel his touch. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know? I never get tired of looking at you,” he whispers, leaning closer to your face. Your embarrassment only grows at his compliment, your head shaking. 

“I don’t understand—”

“Do you remember that one time we played chess? The time before we worked that one stone case? You were right, I did let you win. I just wanted to see you smile when you realized you won,” he whispers. You let out a weak laugh, remembering the memory like it was yesterday. 

“I knew it. I’m a profiler, after all. I can tell when you’re lying,” you respond softly, all this talking starting to drain your energy. He chuckles and leans forward, his breath fanning across your face. Just like you figured, it smells like coffee. He’s addicted to the stuff. 

“No you can’t. You just think you can,” he replies playfully. He then starts to lean closer, his lips ghosting over yours. You close your eyes, waiting to feel his lips against yours. You’ve been wanting to kiss him for so long. You always imagined he would taste like coffee. 

Well, you had your eyes closed until a creaking door is pulled open. You open your eyes to find Spencer gone and in his place is your captor. “What? Wanna kiss?” he snaps, squatting down in front of you. You look away from him, the smell of his breath making you want to puke. He reaches up and grabs the back of your head by your hair, forcing you to bring your head up to look at him. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he snaps. 

He then smashes your lips together, his cracked and dry lips completely covering your own. You don’t return the kiss, simply sitting there as still as a statue. He doesn’t bother kissing you long, knowing you won’t return it. “Dumb whore,” he mumbles as he stands up again, reaching for a container that he had set down when he came in. He pulls out a half filled water bottle and a piece of moldy bread. 

He sets the water bottle down without the cap before setting the bread down onto the dirty floor. “Bone apple teeth,” he jokes as he leaves. You feel your eyes sting but you force yourself not to cry. You bend over with your arms still behind your back and take the top of the water bottle in between your teeth. You then slowly sit up and tilt your head back, using your mouth alone to drink the water. You then look down at the bread once you finish the water, deciding that it’s not worth the trouble. You haven’t gone that long without food, after all. 

After the first visit, Spencer always comes back to visit you more. He never gives you that kiss though. “I have to leave you wanting more or you’ll leave me,” he explains after you confront him one day. Your brows furrow in confusion, your eyes barely even open at this point. 

“That’s not true. I would never leave you,” you reassure. He turns to look at you from his seat beside you, a sad smile coming to his face. 

“Just trust me. If I do...something will happen to you,” he whispers, turning away to look around the dank factory. You let out a sigh and nod your head a bit, understanding what he’s saying. 

“Okay. Just because I’m accepting that though doesn’t mean I like it,” you reply lightly. He hums and looks at you again, his face going from sad to heartbroken. 

“I miss you, you know.” This makes you smile and your heart flutter in your chest. 

“I miss you too. Why else do you think I’ve made you up?” you reply. It took a couple times of him showing up for you to realize that you’re hallucinating him. You didn’t really mind though. He helped you stay sane. 

“Because you need someone handsome to look at?” he asks jokingly. You hum and nod your head, coughing weakly before you can reply to him. 

“There’s that too,” you admit. He laughs and leans over to rest his head on top of yours. In return, you rest your head on his shoulder. Honestly, he’s probably the only reason that you haven’t gone insane yet. 

“I’m getting close. I’ll find you soon,” he promises. You let out another hum, hoping he’s telling the truth and not lying to make you feel better. 

He’s gone in a blink of an eye when the door opens and your captor walks in. “Alright, your time has come,” he says as he starts to undo your binds. Your shoulders and arms scream in pain but you keep your lips tightly sealed to keep you from actually screaming. 

“Do you know who I am?” you croak out. You hear him scoff as he makes you stand up, your vision instantly swimming and causing you to get light headed. You lean against him to prevent yourself from falling down, fear starting to crawl it’s way through your mind. 

“You’re in the FBI, right? I found your badge in your pocket. I took it upon myself to see this as a challenge,” he replies, shoving you forward and causing you to fall face first. You barely have the strength to push yourself up but it didn’t matter since he’s grabbing you by your hair and arm to drag you back up. “I think I’m doing a standup job too. They have no idea where we are,” he informs you proudly. 

You can’t tell where he’s taking you, your vision swimming too much to tell, but the next thing you know, you’re being laid out on a hard, cold surface. “I figured that you’re special, so I’m going to give you some special treatment.” You grunt before letting out a dry cough. 

“Yay me,” you reply sarcastically. It takes you a moment to realize that he’s cutting off your shirt and dress pants. It didn’t take him long to start cutting you. You bite your tongue to stop from screaming but the pain eventually gets to be too much. You try to fight him off but god, you can hardly keep your limbs up or moving. You wouldn’t be surprised if he also drugged the little water he gave you. 

You’re not sure how long you’re there for. A couple minutes, an hour, a day, you don’t know. It doesn’t matter. You’re losing blood fast and you know what comes at the end right before he kills you. “Ready for the finale?” he asks darkly, trailing his knife from your foot up your leg towards your crotch. 

You refuse to beg though. You won’t give him the satisfaction. 

“Aww, you’re no fun. By this point, all the other girls were whimpering, snotty messes begging me to spare them. I even got offered for them to be my sex slave and what have you. I wish you’d offer me something like that,” he whines playfully, a dark smile on his face. With the tip of his knife a little above your pelvic bone, he connects his lips to yours again. He shoves his tongue into your mouth, starting to drag that knife down and lighting a fire in the blades place. You bite his tongue just as multiple doors bang open. 

“FBI! Move away from the woman!” someone calls. He pulls his face away from yours, blood pouring from his mouth where you bit into his tongue. 

“You little bitc—” he starts to yell as he pulls his arm back to stab your genitals, just like he did for his other victims. He doesn’t get the chance to stab you though, a gunshot ringing throughout the factory and piercing right through his brain. His blood sprays on you before he falls dead to the floor, relieved tears starting to leak from your eyes. 

Spencer was by your side in a second, holstering his fired weapon. “You’re okay. God, we were almost too late,” he mumbles, tears coming from his own eyes. He helps you sit up before draping his coat around your shoulders and pulling you close. Paramedics are quick to come over to you two, trying to separate you two to put you onto a stretcher. 

“No, stop! I’ll carry her,” he says quickly, keeping you wrapped up tight in his arms. He then turns you to pick you up bridal style, whispering calming words to you as he carries you out of that wretched place. He kisses you on your temple before handing you over to the ambulance, refusing to leave your side as he rides with you to the hospital. You smile lovingly at him as he squeezes your hand, your body not having the energy to return the act. 

You don’t remember passing out but you did, apparently, since the next thing you know, you’re waking up in a hospital bed with a certain nerd asleep by your side. You let out a sigh as you shakily bring your hand up to run it through his messy hair. He wakes up right away and looks up at you like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh thank god,” he sputters as he stands up to wrap you in a hug. You grunt when you feel the pain flare up in your arms, this making him pull away instantly. 

You find tears in his eyes, your own eyes starting to tear up as well. “I thought I was going to lose you,” he cries, his voice sounding crushed. You sniffle and gently grab his hand, being careful of your wounds. 

“I thought I was going to lose you,” you reply shakily. He smiles at you and uses his free hand to wipe away your tears that started to fall. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, almost too quiet for you to hear. You laugh weakly at this, remembering how you begged imaginary him to kiss you back in the factory. 

“Please.” You barely get to finish before his lips are meeting yours. Not to your surprise, he tastes exactly like you thought he would. Coffee. He kisses you passionately, every single emotion you both feel being expressed through that kiss. Fear, guilt, desperation, love, admiration, and so much more. 

You two pull away when someone clears their throat. “Well, at least I know that you’re okay now,” Rossi teases, the rest of the gang looking in from behind him. You and the others laugh as you wipe the tears from your eyes while they all come in. 

“I’m more than okay. Thanks for saving me, guys.” 

“Don’t thank us,” Hotch says. 

“It’s all because of boy wonder here that we were able to find you,” JJ supplies. You look to Spencer to find him blushing. 

“He went on an absolute rampage,” Blake starts, getting a ‘no, I didn’t’ in response from Spencer, “He refused to sleep until he found you. I don’t think anyone has ever been scared of Reid until that moment.” You’re starting to feel warm now. He did all that for you? 

“Stop exaggerating,” Spencer snaps, giving your hand a squeeze. This makes everyone laugh. Well, except for a certain member of your crew. 

Morgan walks over to your bed, his whole body tense and he almost seems ready to cry. “(Y/n), I’m sorry that I got yo—”

“Stop. Don’t blame yourself. There’s nothing we can do about it now. Let’s just learn from it and move on, yeah?” you say kindly, a warm smile on your face. He lets out a hefty sigh and nods his head, a small smile coming to his face. 

“Now, give me a hug. In fact, everyone give me a hug!” you command, making everyone chuckle as they follow your orders.

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MASTERLIST

More with Spencer Reid

Should I make a Tag List? 

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[pretend-writer]

Down Below (Chapter 78)

Summary: After being sent down on Earth with the other prisoners from the Ark, Y/N Reyes faces series of events and learns about survival. With new things happening around her, she is now starting a new chapter in her life.

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader, John Murphy x reader, Raven Reyes x sister!reader

Word Count: 2k words

Warning: swearing, mention of death and violence

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

Couple of McCreary's criminals stayed behind with the guards, with a help of Indra watching over them. Meanwhile, I've decided to interrupt Russell with a surprise visit.

I insisted I'd go alone, the less people the better especially knowing that Russell wasn't quite the violent type; There was no way he’d lay his hands on me, I had no worries about him at all. He had killed Clarke because of his greed, I highly doubt that he'd kill more of us out of anger.

Some people disagreed with me, not surprised. Of course Bellamy, Josephine and Murphy wanted to come with me, Jordan wished to tag along too. Delilah being sacrificed for the prime hit him pretty hard, I didn't blame him for wanting to confront him.

As we barged into the lab, we were greeted with a startled look on all of their faces. Simone and Emori instantly looked upset, Abby looked like she was dying for her next fix.

'How in the hell did you guys escape?' Simone cursed, stepping up in front of me.

'It's not very hard, you know. Now would you guys be so kind and give us back the blood you made.' Murphy took out his hand, motioning them to hand it over.

Approaching fast, Emori reached for John's hand. 'John, what are you doing?'

'We can't let them continue to deceive and kill their innocent people, it's not right. Now they got us involved too.'

'Just hand us the damn blood.' I walked over to Simone that had it in her hands, 'Haven't you guys lived enough already?'

Simone chuckled, 'You don't get it do you?'

'What, killing people thinking their sacrificing themselves to false Gods? Of course I don't get it, I'm not a homicidal bitch like you.'

She reached her hand out, smacking my cheek while holding the blood in her other hand. I couldn't react and get her back as Bellamy was quicker than me, grabbing Simone's collar. 'Get your fucking hands off of her.'

'Let go of my wife!' Russell screamed at Bellamy, trying to reach over her but was suddenly distracted by Murphy.

He had snatched the blood off of Simone's hand, laughing as he hugged it in his arms. 'You guys are awfully slow.'

'Do you really think that's a smart move, Murphy?' Russell rolled his eyes. 'One word and the guards will storm in here and shoot you without a warning.'

'You shoot me, I drop this bad boy and the blood is destroyed. You really want to do this Russell?'

He huffed, turned to look at Emori and back to John. 'You fucked everything up, you know? I trusted Emori when she said you were with us.'

'That's your own fault for trusting her, I never agreed to this. I honestly just want you dead.'

'What do you guys want from this anyway? Why do you care what our community is doing? These people believe in us, believe that the Primes store peace and prosperity to Sanctum.'

How can that come out of Simone's mouth? Saying that their community chose to sacrifice their lives for a God that they've made up? 'They sacrifice themselves because they believe in the lies you told them. I care because you're killing your own people.'

'Can we just compromise? Agree to disagree and live on with our lives as we did these past few days?' Josephine tried to be the middle of man of this, siding with her family as well us siding with us.

'I thought I made a deal to compromise with Russell but he chose to betray me instead.' I looked at Josephine, understanding where she was coming from but hoping that she will finally realize that what her family has been doing is completely wrong. 'This outcome is all your father's fault. I didn't want any of this to happen.'

'Whatever happens to me and my people are none of your damn business! What we do does not concern you at all!' Simone raised her voice at me, veins tracing down her face as she seemed angry as ever.

'Now that you're getting us involved, it certainly is. We don't have to make these stupid blood for you, you know that right?'

Murphy's POV;

Y/N and Simone have been yelling at each other for quite sometime now, I'd want to help her but I wasn't in the position to defend her. Besides, she could handle herself well.

Simone's facial expression changed as she heard the words come out of Y/N's mouth, it was as if she had triggered her.

'I've had enough of your attitude already.' Simone screamed as she charged at Y/N, punching her in her stomach.

Before I was able to jump in to help, Y/N grabbed her arm, twisting it to the opposite direction that had Simone scream even louder. Turning her whole body around, she then kicked her back which had her falling next to Russell.

As Simone fell to the ground, she breathed. 'What happened to no violence?'

'You fucking punched me in the gut, I'm not just going to stand there.'

Just as I was about to make a snarky comment at Simone, Abby had snatched the blood from my hand. I quickly turned to her, 'What are you doing?'

Abby wasn't listening and instead ran out the lab. All of us trailed her from behind, ending up next to the airlock chamber. She had locked herself in the chamber, attempting to float herself and the nightblood with her.

Her hand was on the lever, her other arm tightly holding onto the nightblood. Y/N approached closer to her, trying convince her from the other side of the airlock. 'Abby, let's rethink this okay?'

'Don't fucking tell me what to do!' Abby yelled, tears running down her cheeks. 'Why do you care anyway, they lose the blood and you get to see me float myself. Win-win situation for you, I'd say.'

Y/N huffed, shaking her head. 'Don't be fucking stupid. I don't agree with you nor did I enjoy being threatened by you at the bunker but I don't want you dead, Abby.'

'I've lost everything, Y/N!' Abby started to sob, 'Russell killed my daughter, Marcus left me. I have nothing left, what do you know about loss?'

'We've all lost something, Abby.' I approached her also, standing next to Y/N. 'You guys sent us down to Earth when we were only kids, when we barely understood right from wrong. A lot of us lost parents, not that I really cared but some do. I understand that you're angry and frustrated but don't tell us we don't know how you're feeling.'

Y/N had never fully told me what happened down at the bunker, all I know is that Abby had done something to her, something that she will never forgive her for. She never told me the whole story, said that she wanted to forget everything because it was so awful what happened.

Even with all the altercation between her and Abby, Y/N was still trying to stop her from floating herself out of the airlock. I know how much the bunker had messed her up, I was honestly surprised that she was willing to help Abby.

‘Why are you trying so hard to help me? I’m the one that’s responsible for your misery right?’ Abby looked straight into Y/N’s eyes.

‘Like I said, I don't want you dead. I'll never forget what happened but we can always work our way to forgive. We’ve all worked our way through hell, we can get through this too.’

I admire Y/N’s strength, which are one of the reasons why I loved her so much. Watching her fight for Abby made me feel stupid about letting her go, being dumb enough to not say I love you back to her.

Abby nodded her head, ‘You’re right Y/N. You’re right. I’m sorry.’

She opened the airlock and slowly walking out as Y/N rubbed her hand on Abby’s back, trying to comfort her while she continued to sob.

'Maybe it's time to end all this, dad. We've done enough already.' Josephine said, surprisingly. Perhaps all of this have overwhelmed her, finally understanding that it wasn't worth the pain they were causing.

Russell inhaled dramatically, rolling his eyes as everyone had their eyes on Y/N and Abby. ‘Don't be a fool, Josie. It's never over.'

'If that's how you feel, so be it.’ Abby suddenly shoved Y/N to the side, pulling Simone from behind her and yanking her into the airlock chamber with her. Bellamy, having the faster instinct, caught Y/N before she fell to the ground.

‘Let me out, Russell! Help me, please!’ Simone banged on the glass from the other side as Abby locked the chamber again. ‘Anybody, help me out please!’

‘Simone!’ Russell looked at Bellamy, Jordan and then to me, panic all over his eyes as he tried to look for help. ‘Please get my wife out of there.’

Abby shook her head, ‘It’s too late now.’

Y/N pushed Bellamy’s arms out of her way, running towards the airlock as she screamed. ‘Abby, don-’

She was too late, Abby had pulled the lever as if she was committed to do so. Abby seemed as though she was ready to float herself, I doubt that Y/N would've convinced herself otherwise.

Bellamy pressed the button to close the airlock, comforting Y/N as she looked distraught. It was selfish of me to feel jealousy towards Bellamy, when Y/N needed someone to lean on when one of our people had died tragically. I couldn’t help it, I was mad at myself for fucking everything up.

Josephine and Russell on the other hand was emotionless, Simone was gone faster than the snap of a finger. They’ve probably haven’t gotten the grasp of any of this, since they were not familiar with the floating method.

‘What... did you guys do...’ Russell mumbled, staring into space as if he was staring at a ghost.

‘Seems like Abby took your wife for taking her own daughter away from her. Fair trade I should say.’ Jordan said angrily. I didn’t think he had it in him to say such harsh words, even though we all know we were all thinking the same thing.

Josephine shook her head. ‘We did a shitty thing, I know. But was that really fair? How dare you say that, she murdered my mother!’

‘Just how you murdered our friend! Just as how you murdered Delilah, she didn’t know the whole truth about what she was sacrificing herself for!’ Jordan took a step toward Josephine, screaming his lungs out. ‘Your family has been doing this for years, there’s no excuse for that!’

A sudden loud bang echoed, Jordan falling hard onto the floor without saying another word. Josephine screamed, looking at her father with a gun in his hand which was aimed towards Jordan.

Josephine froze into place as the rest of us ran towards Jordan to see if he was alright, but it was too late once again. He was already bleeding to death, bullet going straight through his chest.

'None of you guys move or I will shoot again.'

Everything had clicked; I really should've had killed Russell when I had the chance. I could've protected Jordan, I bet Monty was ashamed of me and all of us that it ended up being this way.

Or maybe Y/N was right, if we just accepted the trade, no one would end up getting hurt. Sure, Russell would still live but he wouldn't be an issue as long as he stayed in Sanctum.

None of this would've happened if I'd just stopped Emori from this, while we were marching back to the ship. I could've said something before we left Sanctum. There were so many chances where I could've stopped this and I did nothing.

And now Russell is unpredictable, all hell broke loose and he had gone insane. His lover was gone, forever and there was no going back. Abby and Jordan were gone and we might lose more of our people, even lose the love of my life because of my stupid choice.

[literaturehoeenergy]

Partners - R.H.

pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem!reader

genre: fluff-ish

warnings: i’m not really sure where this is going yet, but i rewatched diary of a wimpy kid rodrick rules, and i needed to write something haha

word count: 1,555

request: no

a/n: i know this isn’t Corpse, but i promise i’m working on it :( i hope you guys can enjoy Rodrick for now. i live for Rodrick being a softie behind closed doors.

Rodrick Heffley was the definition of “bad boy”. After enduring school with him for 5 years, it was clear that he had no ambition or goals in life besides being the drummer of his god awful band. Unfortunately, I got stuck being his physics lab partner our junior year. On the first day of school, he sat down next to me with a pencil, drumsticks, and an empty backpack -- shocker. “Hey, so I’m not really into the whole physics thing so… you can handle everything right?” I rolled my eyes, sighing heavily.

“Can’t say I’m surprised, Heffley.”

“That’s so sweet that you know my name,” he smirked. I set my pencil down to look over at him. “Can’t believe a scholar like you would know anything about someone like me.”

“By someone like you, you mean a low life, right?” He smacked his hand against his chest in mock pain.

“You hurt me, Y/N.”

“Good.”

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

The rest of the semester went exactly as you’d expect, me doing all the work, and Rodrick doing nothing. I didn’t mind too much, the work wasn’t hard for me, and let’s face it… Rodrick was hot. I got to spend the days he actually showed up for class stealing glances at him in mock annoyance as he drummed on the desk or really anything he could reach. The day before Thanksgiving break, he showed up to class with a tray of something in his hands. “Wow, Heffley, I didn’t take you for a baker.” He rolled his eyes, plopping the tray in front of me.

“I’m not. My mom wanted me to give you this as a thank you for keeping me passing in this class.” I looked over at him, his usual energetic demeanor replaced with a more sullen one.

“Oh, that’s really nice. Thank you.” He hummed in response, never meeting my eyes. Was he failing his other classes? Probably. With how little he showed up to school, it’s hard to imagine him passing. “Do you need a tutor?”

“What?” He finally met my gaze, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You made it sound like you aren’t doing well in your other classes.” He scoffed, a frown forming on his face. “I would be happy to help you in your other classes. I won’t do the work for you, but I can help.”

“And why would you do that,” he snapped harshly, catching me off guard.

“I was just trying to help you, asshole.” I turned to face away from him, continuing the assignment in front of me for the rest of the class. I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my head, but I didn’t dare look over. The bell rang eventually, and I grabbed my stuff and the brownies, stopping before I left the room to turn back to Rodrick. “Tell your mom thank you for me.” Thankfully, that was the last period of the day so I could grab my stuff and walk home. 

“Y/N!” I heard from across the parking lot. Rodrick was rushing over to me, dodging a couple cars on his way. “Y/N, hey.”

“Can I help you, Heffley?” He sighed, rubbing his hands together. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be harsh earlier.” My eyes widened in surprise. Rodrick Heffley was apologizing to someone? “My mom has been on my case about my grades, and you’re the only reason I’m passing physics, I shouldn’t have been mean to you, and I’m sorry.” My mouth was agape, still in shock at what just came out of his mouth. 

“Uh… No, it’s cool. I’ll see you after break.” His hand gripped my shoulder quickly, preventing me from leaving. 

“My uh… My mom also wanted to see if you would like to come over for dinner sometime. You don’t have to, but she’s making chicken parm tonight, and she makes a killer one.” I stared up at him, this weird vulnerable side of Rodrick staring right back, and I couldn’t help what came out of my mouth.

“I’d love to.” He smiled wide, taking my books from my arms and leading me to his van. Loded Diper… What a dumb name for a band. It’s not even grammatically correct. I shook off my thoughts and slid into the front seat as he started it up.

“We have to go pick up my little brother.” I nodded. I could tell he was driving slower and safer than he usually does, I had heard horror stories of him in this van. But I didn’t mind, it was nice to not have to walk home, and the music that was playing quietly from the radio was pleasant. We stopped in front of the middle school and he rolled down my window to yell at two kids who were standing out front. “Get in, twerp.” 

“Why?”

“Because mom said I had to pick you up from school, something about a meeting with her editor.” Both kids sighed, opening the door to get in the back. I glanced back and saw there were no seats.

“Are you insane?” Rodrick looked confused. “There’s no seats! They could seriously get hurt.” He sighed, telling them to come sit up front with us.

“For safety, or whatever,” he mumbled. I rolled my eyes, smiling at the ginger kid. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” He smiled back, shaking my hand.

“I’m Rowley, Greg’s best friend.” The rest of the ride was pretty silent, all of us piling out as soon as we stopped. “Do you wanna play with us, Y/N,” Rowley asked excitedly.

“No, she’s not here to hang out with you two.” I glared up at him, elbowing his side.

“I’d love to play with you guys.” They led me inside where a man and a baby were seated in the living room. 

“Oh, hi. I’m Frank, Rodrick’s dad. You must be…”

“Y/N, physics lab partner.” His face lit up as he shook my hand.

“Oh, it is so nice to meet you, we’ve heard a lot about y--”

“Dad!” I giggled as Rodrick shook his head at his father, telling him to stop whatever he was saying. “Uh, we’re gonna go hang out upstairs, let us know when dinner is ready!” He was yanking my arm before I could protest the movement.

“Hey, I told your brother’s friend I would hang out with them,” I said at the top of the stairs. He looked up the second set of stairs, which I assume led to his room, and sighed.

“Fine. That’s Greg’s room over there, but I’m gonna come get you in like, ten minutes. Deal?” I walked away happily, knocking before entering Greg’s room where he and Rowley were.

“Hey guys,” I greeted.

“Hey Y/N! We were about to play Go Fish! Do you want to play?”

“Oh yeah,” I smiled, sitting on the floor with them. We played for a little while before Greg put his cards down.

“So, are you like, Rodrick’s girlfriend?” I laughed, shaking my head.

“No, we’re just lab partners.”

“So you don’t like him, right?”

“I wouldn’t say that… I don’t actually spend that much time with him.”

“Well I do, and I can tell you that you wouldn’t like him. You’re too nice for him,” Greg stated.

“Thanks, Greg. But I don’t think I’m your brother’s type anyway.” The door slammed open quickly and Rodrick sauntered in. “Come to kidnap me,” I asked. He smiled sarcastically down at me and I sighed, setting my cards down. “Sorry guys. We can hang out more some other time.” They both waved at me as I followed Rodrick up to his room. It was dark and had disco balls and stuff everywhere, but I could tell he tried to clean up a little bit. “Cool room,” I said, sitting on the bed.

“Thanks…” He was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“Are you okay,” I laughed. He chuckled lightly, sitting down next to me on the bed.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just… I’m still really sorry about how I snapped at you.” He seemed genuinely sorry, and I smiled up at him.

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.” He smiled quickly, meeting my eyes. “I know you’re probably stressed about your grades. I meant it earlier when I said I would help you.”

“I know you did,” he whispered, leaning in closer to me. Oh my god, is this happening? Is Rodrick Heffley about to kiss me? The door opened abruptly and a woman stepped in. Rodrick and I leaned apart quickly as the woman smiled.

“Oh, you must be Y/N! We’ve heard so much about you.” I grinned, standing to shake her hand.

“Hi, you must be Mrs. Heffley.”

“Oh please, honey, you can call me Susan.” She kept smiling, looking between me and Rodrick. “Well, uh, dinner is ready.”

“Okay, mom. We’ll be down in a second,” Rodrick said through gritted teeth. She laughed lightly before shutting the door. I felt him standing behind me before he set his hands on my shoulders. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” I said, turning to face him. “But if that chicken parm is as good as you said it is, I wanna get down there.” He chuckled breathily, running his hands down my arms and to my hands. 

“Yeah, let’s go.”

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

Let me know if y’all want more of this, or if you have any other characters or requests :)

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Go the Distance

Prompt: Hello, I absolutely adore your work 🥺😍🥺 your Sanders Sides angst is just so goooood!!! If you're up to it, I'd love to request a fic <3 Virgil has noticed [side(s?) of your choice; they're all good choices, I can't decide ;-;] has been distant and avoiding him and he just can't figure out what he did wrong but it's actually because [side] loves him and are trying to take some time to 'get rid of/push down their feelings' The angster the better but don't push yourself ^ Feel free to add or change whatever Have a great day and no worries if you don't do this 💜💜💜~@im-an-anxious-wreck 💜🖤

Thanks for the prompt babe you’re the best

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-doubt, some lite™ angst

Pairings: prinxiety, background platonic dlampr because found family dynamics motherfuckers

Word Count:  4191

Virgil and Roman's relationship hasn't always been, well, great. But it's been getting better!

Or, at least, it was.

Listen, Virgil knows he and Roman haven’t exactly had the most…painless history. Virgil’s introduction to the series was Thomas telling Roman his dream was to get rid of him and, well, Roman was first and foremost loyal to Thomas. Then the whole…insult thing, ducking out, and the absolute mess of the callback wedding debacle, it’s not exactly been smooth sailing.

 But—okay, and maybe they’d been a little harsher about things than absolutely necessary, and maybe Roman got hit with the consequences of their fights more than Virgil, and maybe Virgil hadn’t exactly been…overwhelmingly accepting of all of Princey’s little ticks.

 But they’d still been talking!

 After the wedding, no one was on good terms with anyone save Patton and Janus—and wasn’t that the shock of a lifetime—and Remus and Virgil. Because they made the smart choice and decided ‘nope, fuck that, I’m out.’

 It was a good choice. You have any idea how high their scores are in GTFO now? The first rundown’s a fucking cakewalk.

 Anyway.

 They’d been talking! Virgil still doesn’t know exactly what happened right after—he saw the video, of course he saw the video, but Roman sunk right to his room and there’s a good twelve hours between that and the next time Virgil saw him—but Roman had come out and approached him!

 Probably because he was still hurt by the end of the video—which oof, Virgil does not blame him for, that was harsh—and his only options were Logan, Virgil, and Remus and Logan, um, didn’t want to see anyone for a while and Remus is Remus.

 Side note: those two have been getting on better. Something about their twin Creativity thing meant Remus knew that Roman was hurting bad before even Thomas did.

 But Roman did seek him out, asking him quietly if he had a moment, just a moment, to sit together. Virgil had shrugged and passed it off as nothing only for Princey to literally sit on the floor and not make a fucking noise. He’d frowned and poked his shoulder, asking if he was alright.

 “Perfectly fine, Dark and Stormy,” Roman had said lightly, “and I’ll leave you in a moment.”

 “But you’re…” Virgil had waved to his silent form. “…not acting like you normally do.”

 Roman had laughed. “And here I thought I’d never hear you say you missed me being loud.”

 “Now let’s not jump to conclusions.”

 Sure enough, a few more seconds had passed and Roman had gotten up, quietly bid Virgil good day, thanked him, and left.

 You bet your ass Virgil sunk straight into Patton’s room to ask hey what the fuck did you do to Roman.

 Patton had sighed and said that they’re not sure what to do now—‘they’ being Janus and Patton. Virgil, still recovering from the whiplash of those two being close had shaken his head and told them to get it the fuck together.

 If he sunk into Remus’s room to ask how to take care of Roman, that’s his business. It’s also his business if he tackled Princey in a hug two minutes later.

 So. Talking.

 Roman, for all he talks, doesn’t really say much. The few things he does say are easily passed off as jokes, off-handed comments that no one really pays much attention to.

 Not that anyone pays nearly enough attention to Roman, come on, guys, he makes it easy.

 But Roman talked to Virgil. He’d come in and sit and Virgil would sit next to him, trying to make sure his arm didn’t burst into flames from where it was pressed against Princey—the dude’s a fucking space heater, okay?—just to listen. Some of the time it was Disney rants—okay, most of the time it was Disney rants—but some of the time…

 “Virgil?”

 “Yeah?”

 Roman looked down at his costume. Today was repair day, unofficially called when Virgil’s hoodie ripped during the night and Roman’s sword cut through his sleeve. Virgil looked up from his own mass of fabric, needle stuck in carefully so he wouldn’t prick himself. He frowned at the look on Roman’s face.

 “What’s up, Princey?”

 “Do you think my logo looks bad?”

 Virgil blinked in shock. Roman didn’t look up and see the surprise on his face, instead running his thumb slowly over the patch on the costume.

 “What the fuck are you talking about, Princey?”

 “It’s so complicated,” Roman said, still looking down, “Logan and Patton have really simple ones. You have a pretty simple one.”

 “Janus doesn’t. Remus doesn’t.”

 “Yeah, but they’re…”

 Virgil frowned deeper, putting his hoodie on the ground and shifting closer to Roman. The prince didn’t even look up, still clutching his logo in his hands.

 “They’re what, Roman?”

 Roman swallowed. “…allowed.”

 A growl sounded from Virgil’s throat before he knew what was happening.

 “And you’re not?”

 “Hmm?”

 “And you’re not allowed, Roman?” Virgil gripped his shoulder. “Look at me, Princey.”

 Roman looked up. Virgil swallowed another growl at the despondent look on the prince’s face. Instead, he gripped Roman’s shoulder tighter.

 “No one,” he said firmly, “is allowed to tell you your logo is bad. You hear me?”

 Roman blinked.

 “I mean it, Roman,” he said, softening his voice a little, “it’s you. It’s yours, no one’s allowed to tell you it’s wrong.”

 “So that’s…okay?”

 “Yeah, Princey, it’s okay.”

 “Oh.” Roman looked back down at his costume. “Okay. Thank you, Virgil.”

 “Anytime.”

 Virgil would come to be astounded at how much he means that.

 Because, really, now that Roman’s talking? Virgil’s fucking shocked that they didn’t realize how much Roman actually has to offer.

 First off, Princey’s smart as hell. Sure, L’s the resident braincell but you can be big of brain and dumb of ass at the same time.

 If Logan tries to tell you he’s not a dumbass sometimes he is wrong.

 Roman can puzzle solve with the best of them. Do you have any idea how much brainpower it takes to write a story? A script? Understand how all those moving parts fit together and make sense as a whole? Virgil sure as hell didn’t. He spent one afternoon trying to help Roman only for it to end up as Roman explaining what he was doing and Virgil frantically trying to keep up. Don’t even get him started on how impressive the Imagination stuff is.

 “It’s my job, Fall Out Brood,” Roman laughs every single time Virgil expresses how fucking cool this is, “have to be good at something.”

 And Roman is. He’s good.

 Second: Patton may be the heart, Logan may be the brains, but no one is as good at reassuring him as Roman. Probably has something to do with the Creativity gig. Roman had asked, politely, if Virgil would be comfortable telling him what to do when he gets really anxious, whether to leave him alone, get him somewhere safe, get him things, what have you. Virgil had told him, bemused, only to be shuttled into somewhere that screamed safewarmcomfortableeverythingisokay the next time he had a panic attack. Roman, with the lack of shame truly becoming of a theatre kid, had no problems cheering him up by loudly declaring he would fight whatever shadowy figures plagued his little nightmare, swatting at the air with his sword until Virgil’s sobs had turned into giggles. He never made Virgil talk about anything if he didn’t want to, didn’t try to sit and work through things if they weren’t ready, and never touched him unless he’d gotten the okay. The first time Virgil told him he’d be fine with receiving hugs in the aftermath was the warmest he’d felt in years.

 Princey gives really good hugs.

 Third: Roman’s fucking funny.

 Remember the whole ‘smart as hell’ thing? Know how Logan’s funny as fuck too when he lets himself be?

 Virgil’s lost count of how many times he’s had to gasp out for Roman to shut the fuck up because his sides hurt too much from laughing. He ends up sprawled across the fucking floor or the couch or Princey’s bed, dying very happily but painfully because Roman won’t stop making him laugh.

 Most of the time it’s due to something they’re watching and Roman’ll notice some detail that he picks apart until they’re both howling or Virgil will make one sarcastic comment that turns into a full fucking bit for like…ten minutes. Roman will just keep riffing off of the smallest thing until he’s laughing too hard to keep going—not very likely—or Virgil will flail out desperately and smack him—much more likely.

 Princey said he makes fun of the things he loves.

 …maybe that’s why he doesn’t make fun of Virgil anymore.

 Virgil curls tighter around the pillow, clutching it to his chest. As he rubs his cheek against it, he grimaces. It’s too rough. It’s not warm enough. It doesn’t smell right.

 They’d been talking. It had been good.

 But that was before.

 Before Roman had cautiously approached Logan with an apology, the offering of a new planner for him, the promise to listen to him, hear him out, give him space to speak. Logan had accepted.

 Before Roman had opened the border between his and Remus’s side of the Imagination, sending a little puppy scuttling over to his brother’s castle with a note, a dagger, and a vial of acid. It returned as a kitten with a beautifully poisonous rose.

 Before Roman had finally, finally, after days of trying, opened the door when Patton knocked, letting him come inside so they could talk, about everything that happened since…well, ever. They hadn’t stopped hugging long enough to walk down the stairs.

 Before Roman had let Janus, Janus, take care of him.

 And now…

 Now Roman didn’t want to be in the same room as him.

 It feels as if they’re walking on eggshells around each other again, Virgil appearing in a room only for Roman to completely disappear, getting up and leaving a conversation entirely just to avoid him, Virgil knocking on Roman’s door only for Roman to shout that he’s busy, not to come inside, Virgil, trying, trying to figure out where Roman’s gone, what’s happened, only to receive the cold shoulder.

 A problem none of the other Sides seemed to be having.

 He clutches the pillow to his chest.

 Did he—did he do something wrong?

 Does Roman—does Roman not like him anymore?

 Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed so hard about talking to the others. Roman needed space, needed time, he didn’t need someone else breathing down his neck. He should’ve let Roman set the pace, listened more, been kinder to him when he needed reassurance.

 Maybe he shouldn’t have made Roman think it was his fault that the others were taking so long, or suggested that if he wanted things to get better he should try talking first. Roman had been taught by everyone else that things were his fault already, Virgil didn’t need to jump on that train too.

 Maybe he should’ve been kinder to Roman, less focused on making the others understand that they hurt Roman. Everyone in the Mindscape knew that Roman was hurt, Virgil should’ve helped fix that, taken care of Roman, not pushed the blame onto everyone else.

 Maybe Roman didn’t like what he had to say about Disney films. They were Roman’s comfort watches, the last thing he needed was for someone to cruelly rip away his enjoyment of one of the few things he could enjoy.

 Maybe Roman didn’t like Virgil’s way of taking care of him. Virgil never pushed, never did Roman the courtesy of asking, like Roman did with him, just assumed he knew best how to comfort someone and left it there. Roman might’ve needed more hugs, more time, less distraction, just something other than what Virgil gave him.

 Maybe Roman didn’t like how much Virgil ended up hoarding him to himself. Not letting him go to the others for comfort, just to work things out. Maybe he thought Virgil was just keeping him upset so he could hang out with him more.

 Or maybe…

 Virgil muffles his sob in the pillow.

 Maybe Roman needed or wanted him anyway.

 Maybe Roman was just waiting until he could get the comfort he actually wanted. Maybe he waited until the others were easier to talk to so he could go back to what he really needed. Maybe Virgil was just a placeholder until Roman could get hugs from Patton and Remus, talk with Logan and Janus, not him. Never him.

 Maybe that’s…okay.

 It’s not, it won’t be fucking okay for a long time, but one day, it will be okay.

 Virgil curses and throttles the pillow in his arms, wishing for it to be real, to be warm, to be a chest of white and gold and a splash of red, for it to wraps its arms around him and say it’s okay, shadow-ling, I’m here, I won’t leave you, shh.

 But it’s just a pillow.

 Has his room always been this cold?

 Have Disney movies always looked this flat?

 Has music always sounded this gray?

 Has Virgil always been this alone?

 He can hear them in the living room below him. He can hear Roman and Logan throwing quips back and forth, can hear Remus tackling his brother into the wall, and Roman protesting. He can hear Janus scolding Remus and checking to make sure Roman’s not injured, can hear Roman wave him off gently and go right back to verbally sparring with Logan. He can hear Patton laughing too hard, falling off the couch and begging the two of them to let up, let him breathe, can hear Roman coo and call him sweet, adorable, in that soft voice he only uses when he’s talking to someone he cares about.

 Can’t hear any of them worrying about where he is.

 Maybe it’s better this way.

 He got greedy, took too much of what was never his to take, what wasn’t given to him freely. He latched onto the first thing he thought was for him and didn’t stop to think that it wasn’t. He may think he’s been included in the famILY but he knows he’s still an outsider.

 He may be Virgil now but deep down he’ll always be Anxiety.

 So here he will stay, in the cold of his room, in the dark of his face smushed into a pillow that will never be real. He will stay and he will be happy.

 But not today.

 He sniffles and smears his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie, not bothering to pull away from the pillow long enough to wipe tears properly. His limbs start to protest as he hugs it tighter, tighter, tighter, but it’s no use. He can feel his own arms through the pillow. There isn’t enough—there’s too much give in the pillow. It’s just a fucking pillow but it’s not enough.

 Another laugh from downstairs and Virgil growls, burying his head in the pillow until he can’t hear himself think.

 Can’t hear anything but his own muffled sobs ringing in his ears.

 Can’t hear anything other than the thought swirling around and around his head that he’ll never be enough, that he’ll never be wanted, that he’ll never be anything other than Anxiety.

 Can’t hear the soft knock at the door.

 “Virgil?”

 The voices in his head must be getting pretty powerful because he’s certain he can hear Roman calling for him. He buries deeper in the pillow.

 “Virgil? Virgil, can you hear me?”

 Yes, he thinks, yes, I can hear you, which means I’m not crying hard enough.

 “Can I come in, shadow-ling?”

 Yes, he thinks, come in and make me forget that you don’t need me anymore.

 He must really be losing it because he thinks he can hear the door open and close again with a soft click, followed by a sharp intake of breath and a soft coo.

 “Oh, shadow-ling,” the imaginary Roman murmurs, “come here, little Stormcloud.”

 Oh, his imagination is being cruel to him right now because the sensation of warm arms around his waist and shoulders fucking burns. He buries his face in the pillow until he can’t tell which way is up anymore, not sure how he’s tricked himself into imagining Roman’s cradling him but too unwilling to let the illusion go.

 “That’s right, Stormcloud, relax for me, I’ve got you, I’m right here, shh, shh, you’re alright,” the imaginary Roman keeps whispering in that cruelly soft voice, “you’re doing great, shadow-ling.”

 Virgil wants him to be real. So bad he aches from it. But he knows he’s not.

 What happens next breaks his fucking heart.

 The imaginary Roman kisses him.

 It’s chaste, a barely-there brush of his lips against his forehead but it tears a whine out of Virgil’s throat before he can stop it. The imaginary Roman hushes him gently, pressing another kiss to the part of his cheek not buried in the pillow and it taunts him with how real it feels. The slightly chapped lips, the warm rush of air as Roman breathes, the light brush of his nose as he pulls away.

 It’s too much.

 It’s too much and he wants it to be real so badly but he knows the instant he pulls away it will vanish and that might just break him.

 Then he realizes the imaginary Roman is talking to him.

 “Breathe, Stormcloud, you’ve got to breathe,” he coaxes, “I know it’s tempting to stay buried in a pillow all day, but you can’t breathe properly like that, sweetheart.”

  No, no, don’t call me sweetheart, I’ll break.

 “Shadow-ling, Stormcloud, my darling,” the imaginary Roman says instead, “come on…”

 Well, now he’s disappointing imaginary Roman too. Figures. He can’t do anything right.

 “Of course you can,” the imaginary Roman pleads, “just breathe for me, shadow-ling, I’m right here, I’ve got you, you can keep your eyes closed if you need to, just breathe.”

 Another whine. Another kiss pressed against his head. The whine grows louder.

 “Shh, shh, my darling,” imaginary Roman murmurs, “breathe, come on, just—trust me, okay? Can I ask that of you, Stormcloud?”

 And goddamnit, this is why Virgil can’t do anything.

 Virgil trusts him.

 So he prepares himself for heartbreak and lifts his head.

 “Thank you, shadow-ling,” imaginary Roman—wait, he’s still here?—murmurs, rubbing his back, “there you go, now just breathe—oh! Oh, come here, lean on me, I’ve got you.”

 Having listed to the side horribly, Virgil lands against a solidwarmsafereal chest and—and—

 “R-Roman?”

 “Yes, my darling,” not imaginary Roman says, still kissing Virgil’s forehead, “I’m here, I’m here.”

 White-hot rage burns Virgil’s tears.

 He lets out a yell and shoves, not caring that it throws them both horribly off-balance, threatening to send him tumbling to the floor. He hears Roman cry out, trying to keep ahold of him, but he scrabbles and gets his hands around the bedpost and pulls.

 “Virgil—Virgil stop, you’re going to hurt yourself—“

 “Why do you care?” The rage coats his tongue. “You fucking left, you—you—you fucking didn’t care about me anymore, you decided you didn’t want me anymore and you fucking left so don’t try and care now!”

 “Virgil—sweetheart, I—“

 “Don’t fucking call me that!” He keeps his eyes squeezed tight. “You didn’t give a fuck about me when you left, when you got your fucking family back, you think—you think you can just waltz back in like you didn’t abandon me?”

 “Virgil—“

 “Because you did, Roman!” Virgil blindly shoves at where the prince was before, knocking him into the wall. “You fucking left me as soon as you got the others back like I—like I never did anything for you and now you—now you can’t even look at me.”

 “I’m looking at you now.”

 Virgil laughs.

 He throws his head back and howls until his chest and throat ache.

 “You didn’t give a shit when the others started talking to you. You just fucking up and abandoned me like you never cared about me in the first place. You replaced me with them or—or abandoned me as your placeholder and I’m fucking hurt, Roman.”

 “I know.”

 “Then why did you do it?”

 Silence.

 Virgil’s heart stops.

 No.

 No, no, no, no—

 He fucked up.

 He fucked up so bad.

 Roman left.

 Roman’s not here anymore.

 Roman left again, he made Roman leave, he—he fucked up so bad, he shouldn’t have yelled, he’s fucked up, he hurt Roman, no, no, no, no—

 On instinct, his hands hook into claws.

 Only to be caught by warmsolidreal hands and brought to something soft.

 “Don’t,” comes Roman’s softsaferealhurt voice, murmuring in his ear as he holds him still, “don’t scratch, sweetheart.”

 “Don’t—“

 “I know, I know,” Roman says immediately, “you said not to call you that. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.”

 …what?

 “I didn’t realize I was hurting you,” comes the voice again, “that’s no excuse, I know, but please, Virgil, I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to abandon you.”

 Virgil swallows. “What the fuck do you call it then?”

 “I didn’t want to push my luck.”

  What?

 “You were being so good to me, Virgil,” Roman murmurs, oblivious to the internal struggle Virgil’s currently facing, “so kind, so supportive, that I…I realized I wanted to ask more from you. Things I had no business asking. And the longer you kept on being you, the harder it was to resist the urge to push and risk shattering everything you’d let me build with you.”

 “What—“ Virgil swallows— “what the fuck did you want?”

 Roman stills in front of him. With his eyes still shut, he can’t tell what’s going on, but when Roman speaks next his voice is hoarse.

 “Before I ask,” comes the whisper, “I want you to know that you have every right to say no. You can push me away, shove me out of your room, stay angry at me for as long as you want. I’ve hurt you, badly, and I have no right to ask this of you. I want you to know that. That I’m okay with you asserting that right.”

 Fuck, Princey.

 “…what do you want?”

 A pause. Then a soft rush of air, right on his face.

 “May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”

 Oh.

  Oh.

  Oh, no.

 “R-Roman?”

 “That’s it,” Roman murmurs and oh, his mouth is right next to Virgil’s, “that’s what I want, shadow-ling.”

 He shifts a little until Virgil can feel Roman’s warmth.

 “That and everything that goes with it.”

 “Why—why did you leave? I-if that’s what you wanted?”

 “Because that would mean to push,” Roman says immediately, “and the last thing I wanted was to push you away. I thought if I could…rein it in, control it, I could…I wouldn’t hurt you.”

 A soft chuckle.

 “Look how well that turned out.”

 “But the others—“

 “I needed Remus to tell me what was going on,” Roman says wryly, “Janus to point out that I was okay in wanting something, Patton to help me figure it out, and Logan to kick my ass into doing it.”

 “To…to ask me?”

 “Yes, Stormcloud,” comes the whisper, “to ask you.”

 “And if I say yes?”

 He can feel Roman’s lips turn up.

 “…then I’ll kiss you, Stormcloud.”

 “Are you really here?”

 The question bursts out of him before he can stop it, immediately biting his lip in reprimand for letting it.

 “Open your eyes, Virgil,” Roman says softly, “look at me.”

 He shakes his head, not wanting it to be imaginary. Not now, not after this. Roman squeezes his hands.

 “Look at me, Stormcloud,” he whispers, “look at me.”

  Fuck it.

 Roman smiles at him, real and warm and soft and here. He squeezes Virgil’s hands again and takes the smallest step closer.

 “I’m here,” he says, wrapping Virgil’s arms around his neck, “I’m right here, shadow-ling.”

 He’s here.

 This won’t fix everything. But it’s one hell of a start.

 “Ask me again.”

 “May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”

 Virgil shakes his head. “Not like that. Ask me properly.”

 Confusion dances on Roman’s face before realization hits. His smile widens and he brings a hand to Virgil’s head. Virgil clutches Roman tight as he gets dipped into the prince’s arms. Roman leans forward until his mouth almost catches Virgil’s.

 “May I kiss you, sweetheart?”

  “Yes.”

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[sugiwa]

small dreams

It took one 27 second long video for Keigo to fall in love

The video looped through every news cycle, and each reaction varied from outright derision to almost mythical awe emerging. On YouTube, it was viral in fifty-three different countries and Starburst—a name derived from a candy company that the pro-hero was fond of—jokingly tweeted that she was more famous than All-Might.

And she might have been thanks to the reporter that not only caught her decking the father of a girl she just saved but also recorded the subsequent twenty-seven seconds it took for three police officers to pull her off him and pull her away. The peace sign Y/N threw up as the police led her into a car probably didn’t help, nor did the live stream of her twenty-four hours in a holding cell while they investigated her claim of the man’s abuse and finally released her.

Though there were news outlets that tried to pin Starburst down as a hero on the edge of villainy, her public reputation hadn’t taken any damage. It was hard, after all, to claim that she did the wrong thing when they heard the girl’s testimony and pulled her medical records. But, Starburst—or L/N Y/N—still faced punishment from the Hero Public Safety Commission despite all this.

Attacking an unarmed civilian was apparently a big no-no—even if he was an abusive asshole. She was spared having her license revoked until she retested the simple principle that she had refrained from using her quirk. Her sentence was lessened to a month-long suspension with a strict patrol schedule in some city near Tokyo.

Y/N could work with it. She could put up with the Commission’s inane chatter for the sake of her job, but she drew the line at issuing an apology. It took three hours to wiggle her way out of a press conference to address the event. By the time her meeting with the Commission and sentencing was done, Y/N retweeted the initial video with the caption: Totally worth it.

Keigo was slightly in love with Starburst. Maybe it was the way she strolled into the Hero Public Safety Commission building fresh out of handcuffs and bluntly told them that she wasn’t apologizing and would rather become a vigilante than listen to ten more minutes of them debating the future of her career.

Or maybe it was the video which he’d seen a hundred times over, where she looked like a hero. The kind he’d always dreamed of as a kid, the kind who swooped in and beat the bad guy and then offered you stickers and candy and told you everything would be alright because it was exactly what she’d done for that little girl.

Either way, L/N Y/N was a hero who deserved a little rest, which was why he was currently tailing her patrol route and taking care of the problems before she could move. Her quirk was right out of a comic book too. The golden energy that left her capable of issuing an instant KO.

“Will you leave me alone?” she snapped, finally turning around to glare at him. She had a warm face, not made for anger which was probably why the glare fell away a moment later, replaced by a smile. “I appreciate the help, but I’m not offering any fanservice in exchange.”

“Who said I was a fan?” His wings flapped, feathers flying back toward him.

“You regularly stalk girls mid-air? That sort of thing does not fly with me.” Y/N laughed, nose scrunching at her own joke. “Get it…cause we both fly….”

He smiled innocently, “Thought of that all on your own?”

Y/N groaned, twisting her earring, “Just because I didn’t go to a fancy-ass hero school like Wet Jeanist and Flameo Hotman doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”

Slight insulted by the nickname she gave his favorite hero, he asked, “Flameo Hotman? You mean Endeavor-san?”

“Ohhh, that’s a man-crush voice.” Her eyes tightened with mischief, “I’m gonna have to dip since I got a hot date with my credit card. See you later, Chicken Little.”

He watched her go in slight awe because Y/N really was as crazy as the stories said. Starburst was a hero that had a bit of a cult following. She wasn’t high enough in the rankings to be wildly popular the way he was—up until she went viral, that was. A graduate of Ketsubutsu who went on to attend college before actually becoming a hero, she was on a watch list with the Hero Public Safety Commission.

Apparently, non-conformity was an issue…who knew.

A rain of confetti fell over Keigo’s head, brightly colored and all covered in specks of glitter. He inhaled deeply, turning to see Starburst’s grinning face as she eagerly clapped. Endeavor, like always whenever he was forced to be in Starburst’s proximity, turned around and stalked down the hall. Her confetti burned in his wake. Y/N’s voice followed him, offering an empty congratulations to the hero.

“How’s my precious senpai doing?” she asked, turning her attention to him.

“You really know how to annoy him, huh?” asked Keigo staring at the empty hall. If you gave Y/N too much attention, she ran with it. “What’s the deal?”

Y/N shrugged, rolling her shoulders confidently, “Some people are not equipped to handle true talent.”

“Yeah, right,” snorted Keigo.

“I may or may not have drunkenly confessed that I had no idea who he was to a bunch of reporters during last week.” Y/N made a rude gesture with her hand. “I mean, if you’re not Number One, then do you really matter?”

“Harsh,” he ruffled his wings, freeing the last of her glitter confetti and letting it rain on the ground. “You all good with the Commission now?”

“All thanks to you! I owe you one, you know that?”

“Nah,” Keigo waved her off, resisting the urge to laugh as she made her bright eyes as wide as possible. “It was pretty brave of you. Plus, I think anyone would have done the same thing.”

Three months out of trouble, Y/N once again made headlines for ‘accidentally’ dropping a child trafficker off a building. She caught him before he hit the ground, but apparently, the authorities deemed the emotional damage a little extreme.

“They probably would have been a bit smarter about it, though.”

“Well, don’t worry, no one expects you to be the brains.”

Y/N pouted. “True.”

Keigo laughed. “What are you doing here anyway? You’re not in the top ten.”

“Is bullying the new rage these days?” Her pout grew, arms crossing over her chest, “Everyone’s got something snippy to say to me. Where’s Rumi when I need her?”

“Gonna hide behind her?”

“Fuck yeah.” Y/N nodded emphatically as she reached into her pocket for a pack of gum. She offered him a piece. “Let’s see how your chicken wings stand against her legs.”

Keigo looked at the gum and then her. The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them, “Wanna get something to eat?”

Her smile looked like the sun, “Thought you’d never ask.”

“So, what’s the deal with you and Dragonbreath?” asked Y/N, sprawling across his couch. It was the third time this week she was here. He should tell her to leave, but the words die in his throat in his mouth every time he tried.

There’s too much risk. Dabi’s listening in on everything he does these days, and he doesn’t want her anywhere near them. Not when he’s aware of what they’re planning. Not when he knows how Y/N would react.

She was rough and improper in everything she does, but there’s no one brighter or better when it came to genuine goodness.

Keigo dodged the question with his own. “Endeavor again?”

“Ran into him last week and got yelled at for ten minutes for getting in his way. The guy was in my path, and I’m the one getting yelled at? Next time, I’m drop-kicking him off his skyscraper.” She kicked her leg in the air, reminding him that she was scarcely dressed.

Was this what having a girlfriend like? Constantly jumping between fondness and horniness? He wasn’t complaining.

He heard this threat a million times. “Still mad about the fact that he has one?”

“I’m a simple country girl. I’d be happy with a peach orchard and some chickens.”

“Come here,” he crooked his finger at her. Y/N got up instantly, crossing the room toward the balcony where he stood. Her hands wrapped around his waist, slipping under his shirt, across his skin, over his chest. Too much and too little at the same time.

“You’ll get cold out here,” she murmured. He could sink in the warmth she offered.

“It’s nice seeing the world so still.”

A noise left her throat, wet and worried, “Hawks, whatever it is, whatever they’re making you do, I’ll be here. I promise.”

People joked about Y/N being dumb—he did it too often to count, but she saw more than most people did when it mattered.

“Why’d you become a hero?”

“Saved a cute boy once, and he gave me a kiss,” she said. He’d heard that story before. She offered it in every interview, never expanding on what boy or how she saved him. It was also a glaring lie.

He didn’t push her. He lied about too many things to count.

Keigo took her face between his hands—the urge to kiss that tiny speck by her eyes thrummed through him. It would take a thousand-thousand years for him to forget her face. Y/N turned, her lips skimming his palm, cold and warm at once.

He loved her because she was Y/N. Because in her, he could love himself and not grow cold from it. Because the numbness he’d always known leaked out in place of affection. He loved her boundlessly—above, below, and across—unhindered, without ill will, without enmity.

It was with her that he was Takami Keigo and not the current Number Two.

His hand cupped her neck, fingers tangling in the curls of her hair. Her lips opened under his. A trail of fire burst across his lips, and for a moment, he only knew the sweetness of her mouth. He drank her in, each breath, each hushed sound leaving her throat.

He would do what they asked and make the choices no one else could.

It was worth the world he dreamed of.