#the next time I feel like I’m missing a brain cell

[devildom-moss]

So, I saw your tags under your updated version of the req list and I just wanted to say that uh. A majority of your Satan and Meph requests are from the same person and that I'm glad we can like, share a braincell back and forth like this. And just a Thank you so much your writing is always fantastic! 💖💕

Aww, thank you so much!! and thank you for the requests, too. 🖤

And hell yeah. I love sharing a braincell back and forth, and I think we're using it for good: spreading love and adoration for these two menaces.

[erwinsvow]

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

summary: how you and rafe got started <3

author's note: if i could stop losing my brain cells over rafe cameron for a minute that would be great but i can't so here it is <3 this is mostly cute but in the shea cinematic universe this establishes the beginning of what can only be a hopelessly codependent relationship <3 more parts to come! also none of this would be written without the surge of inspo i get from reading every single one of @princessbrunette's posts but in particular this one, this one, and this<3 one!

now spinning: one of the girls by the weeknd & jennie

Rafe’s always thought you were cute. 

Cute, he’d think to himself in passing, on a hot summer day when he was getting ready to take beers from the fridge and go find the boys at the country club. He didn’t need to steal anything, the waitress at the club always gave him whatever drink he asked for, but he just felt like taking them from the house today. 

You were dawdling around the house with a bored Sarah, all dressed up with nowhere to go. Sarah was texting on her phone, likely engaging in a virtual fight with Topper. He’d feel bad, but the two of them did it to themselves. You were at the counter with Wheezie, leaning on your elbows while the two of you discussed something. He didn’t really care, until he met your eyes for a second. 

Cute. The way you met his eyes and then looked away, face heating up. You were in a bikini and a coverup, probably waiting for his sister before spending the day on the beach or at the pool. The cover up was white and see through, covering everything to the point where no one could see anything but the faint yellow of your bikini underneath.

Leaning on the counter, when you looked away, he got a glimpse into the top of your dress. He could make out little yellow flowers on the material of your bikini and the outline of your tits squeezed against each other. 

He grabbed a beer and opened it with his back tooth, spitting the cap out on the counter next to Wheezie’s book.

“Ew, Rafe, get your spit molecules away from my book.”

“Who reads in the summer anyways? You should be glad for my spit if it makes you stop.”

“It’s my summer reading, Rafe, not everyone can just skip their assignments and get away with it.”

“Please, what have I skipped?”

You and Wheezie turn to look at each other and start laughing. He cracks a smile too, unexpectedly.

“Actually, it’s a great book. You’re missing out, Rafe,” you say, with a smile gracing your face, and he realizes he’s never actually heard the sound of your voice. You’ve maybe said hi to him twice, and both times Sarah had dragged you away within seconds. You even sound cute. His name on your tongue sounds even cuter.

“Really? Maybe I need to give it a try.” You laugh again, meeting his eyes this time. 

“You can’t have my copy, I already put my annotations in this one-“

“Stop yapping, Wheeze. I’m not gonna take yours.”

“Actually you have a copy in the library upstairs. I borrowed it last summer.”

“Really, kid? Wanna come find it with me?”

Your face heats up so much you turn away. He smiles then, and he smiles again when you follow him up to the library.

“This one is fantastic too, it’s about this young girl in England-” your voice continues to describe the plot of the book in your hand. You shelve it and then your eyes immediately land on another, another classic, another favorite. You ramble off the description but Rafe’s hardly paying attention.

He’s trying to recall when you had become so cute, so pretty. He thinks he’s never noticed you after you walk away with Sarah, or when he walks away from you two lounging on pool chairs, your nose in a book like always.

This is different. When had you become so irresistible?

Your pretty hair falls down your back. It sticks to your neck when the two of you are outside in the sun, in the heat. He has an urge to lick the sweat off just to see how you’d blush and feel how you’d squirm. Your eyes are warm and bright, but you’re still too shy to meet his blue ones, even when it’s just the two of you.

And it has been. Just the two of you, recently, almost all of the time. Sarah’s always off with her stupid friends and Wheeze is at home doing her summer work. 

The two of you travel to every ice cream parlor in the eight in the next few weeks. Conversation comes easily, even though you have nothing in common. He hasn’t picked up a bag from his dealer since he started talking to you, he realizes. Hasn’t felt the need to get high.

You’ve never even smoked weed, much less snorted coke. You’ll drink at a party with Sarah, but not too much, and you always end up being the sober friend holding back the vomiting girl’s hair. At the bonfire that he invites you to, your eyes keep darting around, seeing if anyone needs your help. 

Rafe moves so he’s standing right in front of you, blocking your view.

“Hey, kid,” he says quietly, leaning in. You’re boxed in, with Rafe and only Rafe on your mind. The clean, attractive scent of his cologne. The way it lingers on his clothes, like the button up you’re wearing over your pink dress.

He picks up the red cup in your hand and places it on the log beside you, balancing his beer next to it. His hands are cold from the bottle but you don’t mind much. He takes your wrists first, holding them in place, and then slides down so your hands are touching. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” You were looking down at the hands, where the two of you were connected, but his voice makes you look up. He’s looking at you, and you want to hide your face. Your fingers twitch beneath Rafe’s grip. He holds on even tighter. “Don’t look away, princess. We gotta work on that, huh?”

You feel your face heating up at the nickname. You wish you were home so you could scream into your pillow.

“Sorry, sorry,” you scramble, trying to look up but you can’t find the strength or the will.

You’re embarrassed. Of course you are—this is Rafe, and you’re just you. Rafe is the one you’ve had a crush on since you knew what crushes were, and you are still the awkward little thing you were the first time you met him. 

His gaze burning holes through you makes you want to run and hide. Because this is Rafe, and right now you’re one of his girls. The ones Sarah’s complained about the whole time she’s known you—they get too attached, act all clingy, and then are replaced before long. 

You hear Rafe’s quiet laughter. You’re still boxed in, feeling hot and clammy even though he’d given you his button up not thirty minutes ago because you felt cold. 

“What’re you saying sorry for?” You look up quickly, and then look back down. Then Rafe’s hands leave yours, and he holds up your chin until you’re looking right into his eyes. “Hmm?”

You feel like puking. 

“I-I just, well I just-”

“You just what?”

“I don’t think I can be, um, be one of your flingy, uh fling-type girls. So, you know, maybe all of this isn’t a good idea.”

“Fling-type girls?” he questions. He’s holding back a laugh, which makes you irrationally upset. You shove hard against his chest to free yourself from the cage of his arms. 

“Yes, your fling-type girls. You have a new girl on your arm every week, and everyone knows it, and I refuse to be one of them, because it’s just embarrassing and dehumanizing,” he watches you ramble on. He smiles, but you don’t notice. “And frankly, I deserve better than that.”

“Are you done?” You glare back at him.

“Yes, and not because you said that. I was done anyway.”

“Good.” Your face drops for a second, thinking you overstepped and totally overreached regarding his intentions, but then Rafe surprises you—he leans in and kisses you. 

You weren’t expecting a playground peck, but the way he’s kissing you completely surpasses any and all expectations (and fantasies) you’d dreamt up. His grip on your hips is hard, and his tongue is almost down your throat. It’s messy, and wet, and when he pulls away, there’s strings of spit connecting you to each other. 

You should wipe your mouth before anyone sees, but you don’t. Your heart is racing, and you can barely speak, much less move. 

“If I wanted you to be one of my girls, I wouldn’t have spent the last three weeks listening to you blab about books and buying you ice cream. You’re gonna be my only girl, and that’s that, okay?”

You nod dumbly—words and motions still not quite back yet. You feel flushed. People’s eyes are on you both.

“Now, do you wanna head out and go get a cone?” You nod again. “Good girl. And watch your mouth.”

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ sober thoughts ] n. hischier

paring: Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : Nico appears on his best friend’s doorstep after the Stadium Series win and confessions are made

warning(s) : slightly drunk nico, mentions of alcohol (but no actual alcohol consumption involved)

author’s note : pls ignore any typos bc i thought of this while drunk and wrote it while tipsy so i will go back and edit when i am 100% sober. it’s a v short and cute thing that i wanted to write (even tho i am working on like 7 different requests rn)

༺═──────────────═༻

The moment ‘nico 🏒🤍’ appears on her phone screen, she thinks something is wrong. She’s especially worried because it’s nearly two in the morning. Something could be seriously wrong.

The last time they talked, Nico was getting in an Uber to go to the bar after they won the Stadium Series game against the Flyers. That was a half hour after the end of the game and nearly three hours ago at this point.

A very exhausted and confused (Y/N) quickly answers the phone as soon as she processes what’s going on.

“Are you okay?” she asks, voice slurred with sleep. “Do I need to come get you from the bar?”

“I’m outside your apartment building,” he tells her. “Can I please come inside? It’s so cold outside and I just played a game in this weather. Please let me in.”

She rolls over and turns on her bedside lamp before she walks to the window. Outside on the sidewalk stands her best friend and captain of the New Jersey Devils. He smiles up at her and waves. “Oh my God,” she gasps as she puts on a pair of slippers. “Why are you just standing outside my building like that?”

“Because I missed you and wanted to see you,” he tells her as she grabs her keys and leaves her apartment. “It felt very wrong that I wasn’t celebrating with my best friend after one of the most amazing games and one of the most beautiful moments of my career. If I woke you up, I’m sorry.”

Without tripping down any stairs, she says, “It’s okay. I was just worried you were passed out on the side of the road in East Rutherford.” She pushes the main entrance door open. “Yet here you are on my doorstep.”

Nico smiles and stumbles up the steps after he hangs up the phone when he sees her. He trips on the last step. She catches him and he catches himself on the doorway. She can smell the alcohol on his breath because of how close they are to each other, yet her heart races in her chest since they’re so close to each other.

“Are you drunk?” she asks as she backs away from him with a look on her face. “How did you get here? Don’t tell me you drove because I might kill you and your team is going to be left without a captain.”

“I’ve had a few drinks,” he admits to her. “I took an Uber because I did have a few drinks. I didn’t drive here. Don’t worry. I still have brain cells.”

Nico walks into the building in a hoodie and jeans instead of the tracksuit he showed up to MetLife in. She’s happy he is in actual clothes because if he showed up in that tracksuit, she might lose it.

“Why did you come here instead of going home?” she questions as they make their way up to her apartment. “I thought that maybe after the game you’d celebrate with your teammates then go home to sleep.”

They walk into the apartment as soon as she unlocks the door. “I told you that I wanted to come celebrate with my best friend,” he replies. She closes the door behind her. “Especially since I couldn’t get you into the stadium to watch the game. I wanted you to be a part of this day.”

She pouts and sits on the couch as Nico turns on one of the lamps. “Your family flew in for the game,” she says to him. “I shouldn’t take priority over them. I get to see you play all the time. They don’t.”

He sits next to her. Not too close but close enough where she can feel the heat coming off his body. If he were to move his knee, it would bump into hers.

“You’re my family too,” Nico softly says. “I wanted you to be there.”

“I’m your friend, Nico,” she sighs. “I’m not your girlfriend or your wife. I didn’t need to be there.”

It feels like she is trying to convince herself too because sometimes the line blurs. Sometimes she doesn’t know what she is to him. She has to remind herself that they aren’t together, and probably will never be together.

A moment of silence falls over them. She looks at her hands on her lap while she plays with her thumbs. Nico’s big brown eyes never leave her while she avoids looking at him.

Nico sighs and practically whispers, “I wished you were there as my girlfriend.”

Her head snaps up and she blinks at him. “You what?”

“I wished you were at the game as my girlfriend,” Nico repeats. “The entire time I wished that you were at the family skate and sitting in the suite with everyone else’s families. I wished you had one of those cute jackets that the wives and girlfriends had with my number on it.”

She stares at him until he’s done talking. Then she starts to shake her head. “You’re just saying that because you have been drinking,” she replies. “You don’t actually mean that.”

Never once has Nico shown that he wanted to be in any kind of romantic relationship with her. He’s never given her any kind of hint or sign that he wanted to be more than just friends with her.

They’ve known each other since Nico moved to the US in 2017 to play in the NHL and never once did it seem like he wanted something more.

There is no way he means that.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he says.

“Then tell me when you’re sober,” she retorts. “Tell me in the morning if you actually mean it.”

Nico frowns and brushes a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “Schätzli, you have no idea how long I have wanted to tell you that,” he tells her. “I guess I’ll just have to wait until I wake up before I tell you again.”

Almost as if on cue, he yawns. “Go to sleep, Nico,” she says to him. “Tell me whatever you want in the morning. You know where the guest room is but do you need my help in getting there?”

He shakes his head and sinks down against the back of the couch. “I’ll get there eventually,” he replies. “You can go back to sleep.”

With a nod, she stands up. Nico’s eyes are half open so she takes off his shoes and pulls his legs up onto the cushions. She grabs a blanket to throw over him as he lets out soft snores. The alcohol has finally caught up to him and knocked him out.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to hear you say that you wanted me to be your girlfriend,” she whispers to a sleeping Nico. “All it took you was having a few drinks and winning a big game before you told me how you felt.”

She presses a soft kiss to his temple before she retreats down the hallway to her bedroom just in case he wasn’t actually asleep.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The smell of coffee is the thing that wakes her up in the morning. Not the sunlight or an alarm. Coffee. It takes a second before she remembers that Nico stayed over.

She remembers Nico telling her that he wishes she was at the Stadium Series game as his girlfriend. She has no idea if he remembers that he said that to her.

It’s time to find out.

Slowly, she makes her way out to the kitchen. She finds Nico standing at the coffee machine with his back to the hallway. She yawns and walks into the kitchen area.

“Morning,” she softly says so she doesn’t scare him. He turns his head and looks at her. “You making coffee?”

Nico nods and pours them both a cup. He puts cream in her cup and hands it to her. “I figured we could both use a cup,” he tells her. “Me to get rid of this hangover and you because I woke you up at two in the morning.”

She blows on her coffee before taking a sip. “How much of last night do you remember?” she curiously asks as she leans against the counter beside him.

The moment of silence that follows worries her. He probably doesn’t remember what he said, and she isnt going to remind him if he doesn’t remember.

He takes a sip of his own coffee before he asks, “Are you asking me if I remember telling you that I wish you were my girlfriend? Yes, if that’s the case. I told you that I meant it.”

“And you’re sober?”

“Very,” Nico replies. “And very hungover.”

It surprises her to the point where she almost drops her cup of coffee. Her eyes widen and Nico smiles. “Nico, I could kill you and kiss you at the same time because why did it take you playing in one of the biggest games in your career before you-”

Nico takes the cup of coffee out of her hand while she’s talking then cuts her off by bringing his lips to hers. She gasps in surprise then melts against him as he presses her against the counter. She wraps her arms around his neck and puts her fingers in his hair so he can’t break the kiss.

Never in her life did she think that she would be in her kitchen kissing her best friend of nearly seven years. The thought only occurred in dreams and occasionally during games when she found him attractive, which is really all the time.

This is something she has wanted for two years. Since the moment she realized that she was in love with Nico.

He lifts her up and sits her down on the counter. He stands between her knees and rests his hands on her thighs.

It becomes too much for her and she has to pull back for a second to breathe. Her eyes meet his and finds worry in them. “I just- I don’t think you understand how long I have waited for this,” she breathes out. “Wanted this. Wanted you. I just need a second.”

Nico smiles and pushes her hair behind her ears before he cups her jaw. “I’m such an idiot for waiting so long before I told you,” he replies. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, Schätzli.” His voice drops to nearly a whisper and his thumbs brush her cheekbones.

“We’re both idiots,” she tells him. “I’m glad you meant it though. I thought you were going to get my hopes up.”

He shakes his head and kisses her nose. “I would never lie to you about loving you.”

“Well I love you too,” she says. “Just so you know.”

Nico laughs and envelopes her in a hug. She smiles and happily accepts the hug.

“I told you that drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“I believe you now.”

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[patscorner]

CHAPTER ONE: BUY-IN

pairings: paige x oc

contains: pining, angst

word count: 2,575

a/n: okay, one chapter in. let me know what you guys think, my inbox is open. also let me know what you might like to see, the outline isn't set in stone. school has started so it might be a bit before the next chapter, but it's coming. enjoy!

My palms sweat as I dial the familiar number, one I’d memorized by heart. It’d been far too long since I’d called her, and I don’t really have a reason, so the bullshit ‘I’ve been busy’ excuse will just have to do.

=======================

JUNE 2023

“Hello?”

I clear my throat in an attempt to swallow the lump that magically appeared. “H-Hey, Azzi, uh-it’s CJ.”

“Who?” My heart dropped to my shoes as my brain scrambled to pick up the pieces of one word.

“I-uh..”

Azzi chuckles. “I’m just messing with you. What’d you need?” I let out a breath as I rub my head.

“Oh my god, I actually hate you, holy shit.” I laugh.

“Apparently, since it’s been, what, like three months since we’ve talked.” I could practically hear the eye roll.

It’s really not fair for me to ignore Azzi because, really, she hadn’t done anything but be my best friend.

Our best friend.

And maybe that our was the problem. Maybe that combination, the unity of the word, and everything behind it was a mistake. Maybe, letting her etch herself into the scrolls of my heart, so much so that the ink bled together. Maybe the missed cue of when mine became hers, and hers became ours, was poor oversight.

Maybe letting Azzi become collateral damage was where me and her went wrong.

I laugh it off, ignoring the pang it sends to my chest.

“Yeah, well, I have to mentally prepare myself to lose brain cells. Can’t let it fuck up my game.” I respond, earning a laugh from the brown-haired girl. There’s nothing like the nostalgia a sound can bring you. The memories and feelings, all hidden behind a single noise.

After she gathers herself, she sighs. “So what’s up?”

And suddenly, I remember why I’d called.

“Yeah, uh, there’s something I kinda wanted to talk to you about, before you hear it somewhere else..” I say, picking at my earlobe nervously.

“Ooookay… Is everything okay..?” her voice relaying softer through the phone.

I nod. “Yeah, it’s nothing bad. Or, at least, I don’t think..” I fall silent for a moment. This couldn’t be as bad as I’m making it seem, right? Right?

“Either way, I’d just rather talk about it in person.”

Azzi hums. “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. Where do you want to meet?” I consider my options. I’m only in Minnesota to visit my family for about a week, and it’d take another day to get to Virginia… I would be back in time to move into my dorm. It’s inconvenient but doable.

“I could drive up to you in like a week, I’ll just meet you at your house.” I mutter thoughtfully.

“Wait, are you in Texas or Minnesota?”

“I’m about an hour out from Minny.” I answer, slightly confused.

“Oh, I’m here with Paige and the boys. We’re actually headed to the fair soon. You could meet up with us if you wanted.”

“Shit…uh, I didn’t think about them...” I mumble.

That’s a lie. Truthfully, every time I think of home, memories of the blonde flood my mind instantly. But then I’m reminded of what she’d done. How she ripped herself out of my chest like velcro, instead of carefully detangling herself, ridding herself off all strings attached. All for someone else.

For someone who used to be mine.

“Hello..? You still there?”

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. Uh, th-yeah, that’s fine.” I sigh, quickly trying to recover.

Azzi sighs through the phone. “Look, I still don’t know what happened between you two, so if you don’t want to come-” she amends.

“No! No, okay, sorry. I- just gotta change my clothes…” I say, biting my lip as I lie through my teeth. “I’ll just meet you guys there?”

I could practically hear Azzi smile. “That sounds good, just call me when you get there.”

After we say our goodbyes, I hang up. I groan as I throw my head back.

I’m always up to a challenge, but the thought of going and having to function around her, after all she’s said and done; after she’s ruined us before there even was an us, that might be more difficult than I’d thought.

It’s not like I have a choice, though. I’m gonna have to learn how to be around her every day, especially when the season starts.

_________

“Drew, bro, if you spray me with that shit one more time, I swear to god, I will beat your ass.” I glared at him as he hid behind Jose, who put his hands up in surrender. I should not have bought him that water gun.

I rolled my eyes as I turned back to Azzi, who kept looking around, then back at her phone, repeating the process. I kicked her in her shin. “Ow! Paige, what the fuck?” Azzi complains, rubbing her leg. “Who are you looking for?” I say, glancing around.

She looks back down at her phone. “Nobody. Just people watching.” I scoff. “Bullshit, are we being spied on, or what?” She shakes her head, looking up around once more. “Okay, bro, what’s going on? Who’s ass do I have to beat?”

Azzi rolls her eyes at me. “You couldn’t beat Ohio, let alone anyone else.”

I sit back in shock, putting my hand on my heart as I feign offense. “Okay, their defense was so unexpected. You can’t even put that on me.” She shrugged, looking back at her phone and standing up. “Where-”

“Bathroom.” she mutters. I watch as she practically sprints away. If only she did that shit in practice. I shake my head.

I open my phone and begin mindlessly scrolling through instagram, ignoring the thousands of times I’ve been tagged in pictures that I’d taken with fans today. Suddenly, I freeze.

It’s a post by the official UConn women’s basketball team. It’s a picture of CJ in her Texas jersey, the number 43 on the front. Her hair is in her signature bun, hair slicked back carefully, as she drives towards the basket. The caption reads “Welcome CJ West!”

What the fuck?

I’m in such a state of shock that when Azzi comes back, I don’t notice the figure next to her. I glance up at her, then back at my phone. “Yo, Azzi, have you seen this?” I look up at her again, and this time, I let my eyes flick to the person next to her.

CJ.

Forgetting what I’d just seen, my jaw drops as I take her in. She’s just as beautiful, if not more, as she was the last time I’d seen her. She’s wearing a basic casual outfit; a plain white crop top, paired with blue jeans, and gold jewelry that always makes her hazel eyes seem brighter. Or maybe that’s just how they look naturally.

“Oh, shit.” I whisper, clearly in awe. She rolls her eyes.

Fuck.

“Hello to you, too, Paige.” Double fuck.

That fucking voice.

I clear my throat, trying to recover. “Hey, CJ.” I breathe. The lighthearted air is swallowed by suffocating tension as I make eye contact with a stranger.

“Oooookay…” Azzi says, clearing her throat. “This is about as awkward as I’d thought it’s be…” she mutters. CJ looks at her. “I told you.”

I look between them. “What’s going on?”

Azzi looked at CJ expectantly, gesturing to her to speak. CJ rolled her eyes and huffed. “I-uh, I have news.” CJ glanced between Azzi and I. She cleared her throat as she picked at her earlobe, a habit she’d picked up when she was younger. I’d always hold her hand to stop her, and I want to do that more than anything right now. I think I’ve lost that right, though.

“I’m transferring to UConn.”

My eyes flick to Azzi’s who’s jaw drops. “Really? How-Why?”

CJ shrugs, trying feign carelessness. “Better environment, Texas heat ain’ my thing.” To the normal eye, CJ’s behavior could be seen as normal. But to me? I see the way her eyelids flutter, the hesitation behind her pretty lips, and the way her eyebrows raise just slightly. She’s a good liar.

Just not good enough.

I don’t say anything, though, not when she gets dragged away by Drew and Jose, not when Drew practically begs her to stay and hang out with us, and certainly not when she’s sat in front of me on the ride Jon chooses. I don’t say anything when the boys get swept away, and it’s just the three of us, like it always used to be.

It’s only when Azzi goes to the bathroom, leaving us alone for the first time in years that I say anything. “Try not to kill each other, please.” She orders as she scurries to the restroom.

It’s silent for a moment, and I can almost see the relief on her face when she thinks I’ll hold my tongue.

Unfortunately, I’m nobody’s peace.

“How long are you here for?” I ask, stuffing my hands into my black cargo pants. She looks up at me. “Uh-just for the week, gotta move outta my dorm, and it’s a long drive, so.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You driving on your own?”

CJ nods. “Yeah, I’ll just sleep in my car or something.” I shake my head. “No fucking way, bro, you serious? That’s like a twenty hour drive.”

She crosses her arms. “So? That’s how I got here.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not goin’ on your own.” I say. Truthfully, I knew she’d be fine on her own, but something about her driving back to Texas, just to go back to Connecticut, doesn’t sit well with me. I’m only concerned for her safety. Or at least that’s what I decide to tell myself.

She scoffs. “What, you’re gonna come with me?”

“I could, if that’s what you want.”

“That’s the last thing I want.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“It’s not. Didn’t even wanna see you today.”

I turned to her. “Seriously, dude?” She looks at me. “Yes, seriously.”

I roll my eyes. I know I hurt her. I know I fucked up. But that was three years ago. We were kids. I was eighteen. I can legally drink now. It’s been three years. How can someone be upset for that long? “You gotta get over it one day.” I say before thinking about it.

I regret it when I see a flash of hurt on her face. “Get over it? That’s easy for you to say, Paige.” she spits out harshly.

Ouch.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I say, even though I know exactly what she meant. “Exactly what it sounds like. You get over shit quickly.” She shrugs. Her nonchalant tone pisses me off more than the words. I take a step towards her. “I didn’t ‘get over’ anything. There was nothing to ‘get over’. You were just jealous-”

“Jealous?” She interrupts incredulously. “Paige, you stuck your tongue down her throat!”

“And that pissed you off. Hence, jealousy.” I shrug.

“You were my best friend! It’s not fucking jealousy, it’s betrayal!” She practically yells, taking a step closer, our toes almost touching.

“I didn’t betray anybody! I was drunk! She was drunk! And I apologized afterward!” I say, trying to ignore the way her scent invades my senses.

She laughs dryly, taking a step back. “Right, you’re right. Yeah, an apology fixes it all.” I blink. “Really?”

CJ stares at me. “You’re a fucking idiot.” she says, and the only emotion I can pick up is anger. “I know.” I whisper.

Just then Azzi comes out of the bathroom, looking between us. “Everything okay?”

“Yep.” We say at the same time, and Azzi raises her eyebrows. “Aaaalrighty then… Can we find the boys, I’m ready to go.”

I nod and begin to walk behind Azzi, but I don’t miss the way CJ looks at me. I’m no expert, but if I know one thing, it’s the gaze of someone who’s been heartbroken.

I know because I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it every time I’ve looked in the mirror for the past three years.

__________

“There’s no way you’re driving to Texas by yourself.” Azzi gapes from the corner seat of the booth. Jose convinced Paige to drive us to some random diner. She’s so easy.

I roll my eyes as I take a sip of my sprite. “Bro, you sound like Paige.” I grumble.

“The fact that I’m agreeing with her should tell you how fucking stupid you sound.” she said. I look at her in shock as Paige throws her head back, cackling.

Fuck.

That stupid fucking laugh paired with that stupid fucking smile makes it so fucking hard to be mad at her. Maybe I should let it go. It has been three years…

No.

Instead of entertaining the thoughts, I opt for kicking her shin instead. “What do you think that says about you, dumbass.” She immediately shuts up, and I roll my eyes as Jon almost spits out his Dr. Pepper.

“I’ll have you know I was AP player of the year.” She defends, eyebrows furrowed. I raise my eyebrows unimpressed. “Still holding onto that, huh?”

Azzi laughs, and Paige shoots her a look. “Can we get back on task, please?” That seems to direct all the attention back to me. “Driving to Texas? All on your own?” Paige says.

“Yes. Did y’all forget how I got here? I didn’t fucking speedwalk.”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna go to Texas, spend, what, two full days staying up late and packing up three years of your life, and then driving the… twenty-nine, thirty, hour trip to Connecticut?” Azzi reasons.

I blink. “Well, when you put it like that..” I mutter.

Paige rolls her eyes. “Dude, just let us come with you. We can drive you there, so your car isn’t sitting in the middle of nowhere-”

“Isn’t your car in Storrs?”

“And we can switch drivers. Stay at a hotel halfway there, and then drive the rest of the way the day after.” She finishes, ignoring my comment. Before I can answer, the waiter comes with our food.

As he sets the plates down, I look at Paige, just taking her in. She’s wearing a plain black hoodie, with some red, white, and blue shorts on. It’s not much, but she could be wearing a trashbag and still be the hottest motherfucker around. It’s almost disgusting how effortlessly gorgeous she is.

I wouldn’t mind having someone to help me get to Connecticut. It’s a long drive, and it should be an easy yes. The truth is, when she looks like that, and acts like this, and talks the way she does… I don’t know how I’m going to get through the season, let alone a road trip.

I watch her lips as she says a thank you to the waiter, quickly averting my eyes when she looks at me. When the waiter leaves, I look back up and roll my eyes at her poor attempt to hide her smirk. As much as I wanted to wipe the smirk off her face, driving alone to Texas sounded dreadful. Plus, Paige has an okay music taste. Might not be that bad.

“Fine. You guys can come with me to Texas.”

Azzi smiles, clearly satisfied. Paige grins like a madman, clapping her hands. “This is going to be fun.”

I roll my eyes for the upteenth time tonight.

What the fuck did I just get myself into?

=======================

taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerrss @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @pbloverr @breeloveschris-deactivated20240 @cosmopretty @hellokittyfeenie @averagelobotomyenjoyer @elliewilliamsthang @chelisbae @angelscovee @st4rrzynight @cherryswisherz

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 3

Part 2

Tim reached up to rub at his temples and groaned. This was getting him nowhere. Normally he enjoyed going down the research rabbit-hole but this was ridiculous! Paranormal sciences were a bad joke. Most of it was conjecture, hearsay and unprovable theories with just enough scientific sounding jargon peppered in to confuse a layperson. Peer-review was practically non-existent, not to mention a proper scientific method. Francis Bacon would be rolling in his grave!

The slight hiss of the elevator doors opening interrupted his thoughts.

“Hey Replacement, you missed dinner!” Jason called, sauntering over with a loaded plate in hand. He set down a sandwich next to Tim’s elbow. “Alfie says he’s cutting off your coffee supply until you get some damn sleep. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna start prepping the knock-out gas soon!” he quipped, leaning his hip against the Batcomputer’s console. “Research on the League giving you trouble?”

“I wish.” Tim sighed, reaching for the sandwich, “The Assassins have actually been pretty quiet recently. I found some leads on suspicious political donations in Italy, but nothing I can tie to them directly. Talia’s in Paris as far as I can tell, working at an investment firm for God knows what reason. Probably money laundering related. And the ones holed up in Nanda Parbat have been quiet as murderous little church mice.”

“Ra’s isn’t up to anything? Colour me shocked.” Jason drawled sardonically, “You sure he’s not cooking up a new batch of demon spawn in that mountain of his?”

Tim shook his head. “You know Bruce destroyed his cloning labs after the last… incident. And I’ve found no records of the League procuring the necessary materials or equipment to restart production.” he wrinkled his nose, “Of course it’s possible that they used a shell company we haven’t come across yet, but I believe the odds are pretty low.”

“So what’s got your panties in a bunch then?”

Tim’s mouth twisted in a frown. “Ghosts.”

“Ah.”

Jason stared off into space and Tim took a bite of his sandwich. Egg-salad, score! The Cave was silent for a while, only disturbed by the noise of the actual bats heading out for their nightly hunt.

“I can’t tell you for sure if ghosts are real or not. I don’t remember anything from when I was… dead.” Jason said haltingly, and Tim stilled. “But we’ve seen people come back under pretty weird circumstances. So why not ghosts?” Jason shrugged.

Tim chewed and swallowed before replying. “Because it’s one thing for the physical body to be restored, but some kind of nebulous ‘spirit’ lingering? Why don’t we see ghosts all the time then? Why don’t people come back? Why not…” Tim broke off.

“Your Dad?”

Tim nodded and dropped the remains of the sandwich back on the plate. It suddenly looked as appetising as cardboard.

“I don’t know, birdie. We still don’t know why I came back.” Jason snorted “Maybe the universe just has a sick sense of humour.”

Tim’s lips curled up in a mirthless smile. “Maybe the universe missed your terrible puns. Some of those still haunt me.”

Jason barked out a surprised laugh. “That was terrible!”

“The universe clearly made a grave mistake.”

“Stop it, I can feel my brain cells dying!” Jason groaned and gave Tim a light punch to the shoulder.

“Well we can’t have that, you have so few already!” Tim snarked, then quickly leaned to the side to evade Jason’s attempted noogie. Jason huffed and stepped back, crossing his arms.

“All right mister teenage genius. What have you dug up about ghosts then?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “There’s obviously tons of folklore from all over the world. Pretty much every mythology has stories about the spirits or souls of the dead returning to haunt the living. But if there’s a scientific basis to all this then it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Even the supposed leaders in the field are hopelessly biased.” He pulled up some documents on the screen. “Take these for example. The Doctors Fenton are supposed experts in the field of ‘Ecto-Biology’ as they call it, but their research papers would never fly with a proper scientific journal. A lot of it comes across as blatantly xenophobic towards the entities they are supposedly studying and their research methods seem geared towards confirming what they view as foregone conclusions. And most of their peers operate on the same track.”

Jason hummed thoughtfully as he skimmed one of the articles in question. “Do you think there’s anything to this, or is it all just a hoax?”

Tim snorted. “If there is, they haven’t offered any conclusive proof. Though they certainly seem to have made it work for them. The Fentons have a series of patents for weapons and defenses against these supposed ‘ecto-entities’ and it looks like there’s plenty of people gullible enough to buy them. I haven’t taken a closer look at their products yet, but a lot of it looks like something out of a pulp sci-fi movie.” He pulled up the image of what looked like a bazooka with green glowing parts. Jason whistled.

“So, con artists or mad scientists?”

“Could be both. Their financial records are all over the place and they’ve had some large transactions with what I’m pretty sure are shell companies in recent years. They live and operate out of a small city in Illinois.” Tim said, pulling up the relevant documents on screen.

“Amity Park?” Jason read aloud.

“Supposedly it’s ‘The Most Haunted City in America’. Seems on brand, doesn’t it?”

“It probably helps them stay in business. It looks like they have kids?” Jason pointed at the tax returns. Tim typed some search queries into the system.

“Two. One in high school, one just started her first semester at Metropolis University. With a full scholarship to boot.” He spent a few more minutes hacking into the university’s systems. “Here we go, Jasmine Fenton. Looks like she’s going for a psychology degree. And… hm…” Tim trailed off. Jason quickly realised what had caught his attention.

“‘The Damaging Effects of Envy Towards Metahumans? That’s a hell of a topic for a freshman-year essay.” Jason remarked.

“Yes. I wonder…” Tim drummed his fingers on the keyboard. “She might have some insight into her parents’ research.”

“And at a cursory glance, she didn’t drink whatever Kool-Aid her parents were serving.” Jason finished for him. “You wanna go pump her for information?”

“I might as well. If nothing else, maybe we can shut down a couple of mad scientists before they become a problem.” Tim stood up and stretched. “Time for a field trip!”

Part 4

[bosbas]

Chapter 6: in a world of boys he's a gentleman

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 4.2k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, Eloise being the best, Colin finally having brain cell(s), but then very quickly losing aforementioned brain cells

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

May 30, 1816 – One week has passed since the unfortunate revelation of Lord Barlow’s true nature, and Lady Y/N Montclair has yet to make an appearance at a ball. Could it be that the Duke’s betrayal has left her too disillusioned? Perhaps the eligible gentlemen of London have failed to meet her exacting standards. One can't help but wonder if Lady Y/N be present at tonight’s ball, where the ton's most eligible bachelors will undoubtedly be vying for her attention now that she is decidedly searching for a new suitor. Who among them shall be lucky enough to capture her attention? This author does not know, but hopefully, this evening reveals more of Lady Montclair’s intentions.

Colin was grinding his teeth, his right eye twitching slightly as he glared at Eloise, with whom he had been arguing for the better part of the last hour. 

“It’s not like I haven’t tried to be agreeable! She’s just impossible,” he ground out.

Colin was about finished with having to face criticism from his sister when you were the one who had ignored his attempt at a truce.

“It certainly doesn’t help that you rile her up every single time you see her. She’s trying to find a husband, mind you!” Eloise shouted back. 

She had grown quite close to you in the past weeks, and she knew the kind of pressure you were under tonight. It was your first ball after finding out the Duke had sneaked away from the Bridgerton ball with Miss Barrington, and your full focus would be on finding a new suitor. Eloise generally preferred to stay out of your neverending conflict with Colin, but she knew he would never understand what you were going through. The very least she could do was ensure that he acted decently toward you, though it seemed like even that would prove a challenge. 

“Exactly! I was the one who wanted to warn her about Lord Barlow’s betrayal, and now she thinks I’m the one who gave him access to our courtyard,” snapped Colin. 

He couldn’t believe Eloise. How could she not see that you were one of the most infuriating, unpleasant, and insolent people in the ton? Why was she so intent on defending you? Colin was irritated beyond belief, and he wanted nothing more than to never speak with you again after the horse races. You had promptly ignored him after accusing him of orchestrating Lord Barlow and Miss Barrington’s escapade, and he spent the rest of the afternoon angrily stealing glances at you as you chatted pleasantly with his sister. 

And to learn that you still wanted to find a husband? You could become a spinster, for all he cared. And he didn’t. He didn’t care. About you or about Lord Barlow, or frankly, about anything that had transpired since the Bridgerton ball. All he knew was that tonight, he would be forced to watch you bat your eyelashes and giggle softly as you talked to countless men when all he got from you were angry stares and sarcastic laughs. 

“She’s the one who doesn’t want to be on good terms with me,” he added stubbornly, crossing his arms. 

Eloise let out an exasperated groan and rolled her eyes. “Colin! Can you not find it in yourself to set aside your dislike for her and understand that she is an unmarried lady who just lost a titled man she was practically guaranteed to marry? She is in a precarious situation, not to mention feeling heartbroken and betrayed.”

In truth, Colin thought, he didn’t understand. He couldn’t even begin to. He had never faced that kind of pressure before, certainly not about something as trivial as marriage, and suddenly he felt guilty for wanting to spend the entire evening tormenting you so he could avoid watching you amass suitors. 

Sensing that her words had struck a nerve, Eloise took advantage of her brother’s waning resolve. “You are Colin Bridgerton, Mayfair’s sweetheart! I don’t understand why you can’t act that way with her.”

“She doesn’t want that! She doesn’t want me!” Colin yelled, pinching the bridge of his nose as he screwed his eyes shut in frustration. 

But Eloise didn’t let up. “I’ll wager she wants that tonight. You don’t need to kiss the ground she walks on. Just be civil and refrain from any ungentlemanly conduct. It’s her first ball since the Lord Barlow scandal, and she doesn’t need to look bad in front of a crowd of eligible bachelors.”

“I don’t ever do it on purpose!” he defended. 

“You could’ve fooled me,” scoffed Eloise. Then, softening her tone, she added, “Just tonight. Please.”

“Fine,” he relented. 

If it was so important to Eloise, he would do it. He supposed he would want someone to do that to Eloise if she was ever in your same position. But he was already dreading the night. He had never particularly enjoyed balls, and he knew tonight would be especially dreadful. Usually, your arguments provided prime entertainment, and if he wasn’t allowed to fight with you tonight, he would just have to endure the monotony of the ballroom without any respite. 

---

You drew in a sharp breath as you entered the ballroom, looking around at the crowd nervously. Charlotte placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and led you toward the back of the room. Had she chosen to go to the furthest place from the entrance simply to torture you? You were nervous enough as it was; you didn’t need the added anxiety of having everyone’s eyes on you as you walked through the crowd. 

You had opted for an elegant white gown tonight. Well, your mother had suggested it and you had inevitably agreed to wear it. 

“It’s meant to look like a wedding dress!” she had exclaimed earlier. “It shows you’re still in the marriage mart despite everything that’s happened, and you’ll have gentlemen queuing up to dance with you.”

Whatever the reasoning behind the gown, you had to admit that it was beautiful. It accentuated your figure, and you could already feel plenty of keen eyes on you and more than a few furtive whispers. Though you couldn’t make out exactly what people were saying, you were sure you heard your name mentioned several times. However, you smiled gracefully at everyone anyway, wanting to avoid being seen as a complete laughingstock after losing Arthur. The Duke, you corrected yourself. He was no longer Arthur to you.

“Y/N,” you heard Eloise’s excited voice beside you.

You turned to see her smiling face and squeezed Charlotte’s hand to let her know she could go on without you. 

“Hello, El,” you greeted, smiling wide. 

“The balls have been torture without you! I’m so glad you’re finally here,” she gushed, taking your hand and leading you to a less crowded part of the ballroom. 

You relaxed slightly. At least one person here didn’t hate you. But perhaps she was the only one. As you kept speaking with Eloise, you realized that not a single bachelor had come to ask you for a dance. Usually, you had to reject quite a few gentlemen within the first few minutes of being at a ball, but your dance card remained empty tonight. 

Swallowing nervously, you looked around the room and assessed the gravity of your situation. Plenty of people were staring at you, but no one had moved toward you. Were they waiting for someone else to walk up to you? Did they not want to be the first to dance with you? Or did this mean that Lord Barlow’s actions had well and truly ruined you? Feeling the familiar beginnings of tears forming in your eyes, you quickly started to panic. What would your parents say? 

You were trying to focus on Eloise’s words, but all you could hear was your rapid heartbeat, and you were surprised people around you couldn’t hear it, too. Your stomach flipped uncomfortably as you realized that you might have truly fallen out of favor with the ton. The thought made you feel sick. This wasn’t how you wanted the season to go. How you needed it to go. 

Just as you were ready to bolt outside in search of fresh air, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Your stomach clenched, and for a fleeting moment, you hoped it was Colin Bridgerton. As much as you weren’t looking forward to the inevitable antagonism you would face from him, and as much as you knew that he wasn’t interested in anything from you other than an argument, the thought of engaging with someone of the opposite gender provided a fleeting sense of relief. Anything to momentarily divert your thoughts from the Duke's betrayal and the disheartening realization of your diminished standing in society. Although knowing Colin, he would probably bring up the subject just to spite you. 

However, as you turned around, you came face to face with your brother. A tiny rush of disappointment coursed through you, and you crinkled your face in confusion. It was a disconcerting realization, indeed, to find yourself yearning for the company of Colin Bridgerton, the very individual you despised most in the ton.

Leaning down close to you, Louis asked lowly, “Ça va?” (Are you alright?).

“Louis,” you rolled your eyes and nodded, trying to convince him­–and yourself–that you were fine. “Ça va” (I’m alright). 

“Excuse me just a moment,” spoke Eloise as she looked between you and your brother. She squeezed your hand and turned around, leaving you with Louis.

You cringed, internally hearing your parents scolding you for speaking French around her. But Louis, unphased by Eloise’s exit, spoke again. “Non, j’suis serieux. On peut y aller,” he insisted (No, I’m serious. We can leave). 

It was nice of him to check up on you. But it only left you feeling worse, a sobering reminder that your situation was dire enough that your brother was actually being sweet to you.

As much as you would have liked to, you knew you couldn’t leave the ball. It would only make it worse to flee now. Your parents had already allowed you a weeklong break from social events, and they would be most displeased to find out that you were giving up so soon after your re-entry into society.

So, you steeled yourself, forcing yourself to keep your tone light. “Leave the ball? For me or for you?” you asked Louis, poking him teasingly.

He relaxed upon hearing your light tone, letting out a breath as he smiled down at you. Your parents had asked him to be especially careful with you tonight, and he was left with sickening worry. You were his little sister, and as much as you had your differences, he still thought himself in charge, at least partially, of your wellbeing. 

The worst part was that he knew exactly the kind of man Andrew Barlow was, and he was beside himself with guilt that he had even let the man near you. But you seemed to be getting through it, he noted, relieved. 

Colin was rooted to the spot across the ballroom, staring at you as you engaged in easy conversation with your brother. How you could be so disagreeable toward him, and completely pleasant with everyone else was absolutely beyond him. 

But what really caught his attention tonight was your attire. You were wearing a white gown, and he briefly wondered if that was what your wedding dress would have looked like. He couldn’t help it; you looked positively stunning, and he was angry because he knew if he even attempted to talk to you, you would most likely bite his head off. 

Colin jumped as he felt a tap on his shoulder, slightly embarrassed at having been discovered staring at you. He turned around to face his mother and Eloise smiling far too innocently for his liking.

“Colin, go dance with Y/N, please.”

“Can’t Benedict do it?” Colin pleaded. He would do anything not to have to speak with you right this moment. It was far better to look at you from a distance, where he could pretend you didn’t completely despise him. 

“He’s dancing with Penelope Featherington at the moment, so no. Colin, it’s one dance!” Violet responded, exasperated.

“It’s not like she won’t have anyone else asking her,” grumbled Colin unhappily. Though, come to think of it, he hadn’t actually seen anyone ask you for a dance tonight. 

“Colin,” Eloise pleaded. “If they see you dancing with her, they’ll be more inclined to speak with her.”

Remembering his conversation with his sister from earlier, Colin accepted defeat, mumbling a low “just this once.”

He found himself growing increasingly nervous as he made his way over to you, and he clenched his fists to keep his hands from shaking. What had gotten into him? This was merely a dance like any other. He’d done it many times before, and he could do it with you. 

He cleared his throat as he reached your side, drawing you out of your conversation with Louis. 

“Not you, too,” you sighed upon seeing him. “I’ve had enough of a difficult time today without your input.”

Colin was momentarily unable to speak, though he quickly recovered. At this point, he didn’t know why kept being so surprised that you thought so lowly of him. 

He was not like the rest of the cruel members of the ton, he thought defiantly. And he would show you just how unlike them he was. This was the real Colin Bridgerton, not the insecure, combative version of him that seemed to slip out whenever you were near.

“A dance, Lady Montclair. I came to ask for a dance,” he said patiently, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t act like you’ve got a full dance card,” he rolled his eyes. Alright, maybe he couldn’t completely shake his hostile demeanor.

"Mr. Bridgerton, that is-” 

“Please.” 

“Why?” came your indignant response. 

“We can say we’re both doing it for Eloise if that will make you feel better,” he said, eyebrows raised. 

Unsure, you turned to look at Louis beside you, who gave you an unimpressed look and gently nudged you in Colin’s direction. 

“Fine,” you huffed.

He let out a breath and reached for your dance card. “Thank you.”

Suddenly, Colin became hyperaware of his surroundings. Every sensation was heightened, and it was almost too much for him to hold your hand as he led you toward the dance floor. He had never had this much physical contact with you, bar the times you had not-so-accidentally stepped on his foot, and he was struggling to maintain his composure.

Your hand felt so delicate in his, and he was actively resisting the urge to interlock your fingers with his. Where had that come from? Why was it that he could never get a grip when he was around you?

Colin was forced back to the present moment as you reached the dance floor, and he carefully set one hand on your waist and used the other to hold your hand, getting into position before the music started playing. 

His stomach was in about a thousand knots, and he awkwardly shifted his hand placement, unsure about whether he was making too much physical contact with you. With the way you looked tonight, Colin would have been happy to keep his hands on you all night, but he was sure you did not share the sentiment, and the last thing he wanted was to inadvertently make you uncomfortable. If he was going to make you upset, he would much rather have done it on purpose and off the dance floor. But that’s not what Eloise has asked of him, so he settled for gingerly holding your waist, his fingers carefully touching the smooth fabric of your dress.

Much to his chagrin, Colin stumbled slightly as the music started in an attempt to begin dancing with you. This was not at all how the most charming member of the ton was supposed to act, he scolded himself, cringing. Perhaps it was a good thing you had never agreed to dance with him before this, and that he never got the chance to properly pursue you as a suitor. If merely a turn about the dance floor with you had him feeling so out of sorts, he couldn’t even imagine what kissing you must have felt like. 

Except now he was imagining what kissing you would feel like. His gaze suddenly fixated on your lips, and he wondered why he had never noticed how inviting they looked. It would be so easy to simply lean down, ever so slightly, and touch his lips to yours. Perhaps it would cause a scandal, given that you were in the middle of a ball, but he rather thought it would be worth it. Just a few- 

“Keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Bridgerton” your sharp voice cut through his musings. 

Colin blinked, brought back to the present moment in an instant. It appeared that, in his rather improper daydream, his hold on your waist had tightened considerably. Irritation bubbled up inside of him as he softened his grip. It seemed that nothing had changed between the two of you, after all. His attempts at playing nice had been, as per usual, futile.

“I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the concept of dancing, Lady Montclair, but it necessitates at least some level of physical contact,” he snapped, glaring but still unable to look away from your lips. 

Unfortunately, his words were punctuated by another stumble as he fought to stay upright and keep moving to the music, and he had to hold onto you to avoid toppling over. 

“What is the matter with you?” you hissed. “Did you never learn how to dance?” 

Colin looked down at you, grimacing and expecting to find the furious glare on your face he so often received. But your eyes were elsewhere. They were skittishly looking around the room, and your mouth was settling into a deeper and deeper frown. 

He noticed you anxiously chewing on your lip, your hand slightly shaky in his, though you were doing well to hide it. He felt like an idiot. Of course you were uneasy. It was your first dance trying to find a new suitor, and he was making you look like a fool in the middle of the dance floor. Colin felt his own anxiety melt away, replaced by a strange protectiveness he wasn’t sure he was familiar with.

“Just look at me,” he whispered as he twirled you.

You were too anxious to do anything but follow his instructions, and your eyes shifted to him instantly. He looked concerned, and you wondered whether it was concern for you or because he had almost fallen face-first in the middle of the dance floor. Either way, you were grateful you had something to focus on that wasn’t the constant obvious stares you were getting from everyone around you.

But, as Colin twirled you once again, you made eye contact with a man you had danced with on a few occasions. Before you could smile politely, he turned away to whisper something to the person beside him, and your face fell. As you returned to face Colin, you couldn’t help but look over his shoulder to see who would be the next person to prove that you were ruined.

You felt a squeeze at your waist, and your eyes came back to Colin’s.

“They don’t matter. Pretend it’s just me and you,” he said softly, reeling you in effortlessly. “Well, perhaps your sister as well, just in case you attempt to murder me.”

You couldn’t help it, you let out a soft giggle and bit your lip to keep from bursting into laughter. And though you were still surrounded by people surely itching to see you stumble and fall, you felt the rest of the ballroom fading away. As long as you kept looking at Colin, and he kept looking at you, there was nothing that could distract you. 

“I haven’t been in England that long, but I’m fairly certain murder is illegal here,” you quipped, smiling warmly at Colin for what was probably the first time.

“I’m fairly certain it’s illegal in every place I’ve been to, but I’m not so sure that would stop you,” he said back, a positively rakish smile on his face. But you were far too distracted by his mention of his travels to notice.

“You’ve traveled? Eloise hasn’t mentioned much,” you said curiously. 

“I’ve mostly traveled by myself,” he explained, now completely composed, previous stress forgotten, and finding himself enjoying your company. “My family doesn’t have the same penchant for adventure as me, so I usually set off on my own.”

You hummed thoughtfully. This, you hadn’t expected. Now you knew that you and Colin shared a love for travel, and it was a very unpleasant feeling, indeed. You had spent so long trying to distance yourself from him, and it was slightly disconcerting to know that the two of you had something in common. Especially something so embedded in who you were.

“Where was the last place you went to?”

“Greece,” he answered, smiling down at you. “I came back just before the season started. My mother was quite upset with me when she saw my tan.”

You laughed, perfectly picturing Violet’s hand over her chest as she saw her son after spending weeks in the sun. “You’re mad! If I had your kind of freedom, I certainly would not have stayed in England for as long as you have. Why haven’t you left since?”

“I- I’m not sure,” Colin answered. Why had he stayed so long? Usually, he liked to travel during the summer months, but he had stayed put so far and had no upcoming travel plans. “I suppose I am enjoying the season this year.” Was he really, though?

But you had already moved on to your next question. “The language is quite challenging, no? Did you learn at all? How long were you in Greece?”

Colin could have kissed you then and there. His family rarely showed interest in his travels, seldom responding to his letters, and once back in the ton, no one else bothered to inquire about his time abroad. Thus, he found himself pleasantly surprised by your curiosity, even if it was you—of all people—who displayed it.

As your conversation unfolded, Colin realized he was thoroughly enjoying himself. The effortless banter, combined with the tingling sensation that coursed through him whenever your hand grazed his neck, made him feel as though he were soaring high above the ballroom floor.

What if you had said yes that night at the Danbury ball? What if you had accepted his invitation to dance? Would it have felt as remarkable, as natural as this moment? Or was the allure of having you in his arms heightened simply because you had already rejected him?

Colin supposed he might have fallen for you that very night at the Danbury ball, had the circumstances been different. He could have seen himself, in a fit of romantic fervor, asking for your hand in marriage mere days afterward. Perhaps, then, it was lucky that you seemed to have an instant disdain for him. It likely spared him from acting the fool. Though truth be told, he often found himself behaving quite foolishly in your presence regardless.

As the dance ended, Colin found himself yearning to continue speaking with you. He grabbed your hand in his, feeling much more composed this time, and led you away from the dance floor. But he barely had time to turn back around to face you and continue your conversation before a trio of suitors came up and asked you to dance. Before he knew it, you were being swept away once more, this time on the arm of someone else. 

Colin congratulated himself on a job well done as he made his way back to where Eloise stood, deftly declining a gentleman's offer to dance. It was a triumph, he thought, that Colin had gone more than five minutes without arguing with you, and you had even laughed at something he said! It felt far better than whatever hostile rapport the two of you usually had.

“Thank you,” Eloise smiled gratefully at her brother. “Now, was that so difficult?” she added in a teasing tone. 

“I will have you know that yes, it was,” answered Colin stubbornly, but he knew he was lying even before the words came out of his mouth. Gliding across the dance floor with you in his arms had felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Even now, as you twirled gracefully in the arms of another, Colin found himself not seething with jealousy as he might have expected, but rather in a state of awe. There was something enchanting about the sight of you, and he couldn't tear his gaze away.

Then, unexpectedly, your eyes met his over the shoulder of your current dance partner, and you bestowed upon him a heart-stopping smile, silently mouthing a 'thank you'. Colin had to feign a cough to cover up the giggle he had just let out. A giggle? From Colin Bridgerton, certified rake? What on Earth were you doing to him?

—

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[azrielslightintheshadows]

I have an idea!

Y/n has always been in love with Az since they were young (they’re mate but he doesn’t know) but he pushed her feelings aside because he was in love with Mor. Y/n always paid him attention and did everything the would please him. However, she was under the mountain with Rhys for 50 years. When she came back and found that Az is now falling for Elain, she’s changed into a different person. She is cold and tired of chasing after him and now just doesn’t give a fck anymore. Az realizes what he is losing and has to grovel hard to get his mate back.

Im so sorry if this is long😂 it’s just my 4am brain going wild.

Alive.

Azriel x f!Reader

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse, trauma, death and scars.

Masterlist

Oof this took way too long to write. I think this is my favorite request. I tried to follow the whole plot. I hope you enjoy it!

You loved your family more than your heart could handle, but you couldn’t go back right away. After you and Rhysand were freed from Amarantha thanks to the human girl -Feyre, you hugged him and said your goodbye.

“Rhys I’m sorry, I can’t go back yet… I need some time to mourn all the years that I lost…. I… I need some time to find myself.” Tears were streaming down your face. Rhys was looking at you with a pained expression, he understood where all this was coming from, he understood your trauma, so with a kiss on your forehead he said his goodbye and winnowed to Velaris -probably.

You were staring at the house of wind, your thoughts running to the past, when you and Rhys separated you found shelter in the day court, Helion was going through the same trauma too, so you helped each other. Another reason why you didn’t want to come back though was the shadowsinger of the night court. You met him a while after he had won the blood rite and immediately fell for him, you thought that you were meant to be together and when the mating bond snapped for you, everything made sense and your feelings towards him only grew. But it didn’t snap for him, and he didn’t have feelings for you… you spent the next years watching him pinning after Mor and when you had enough and told him how you felt he brushed you off and became distant. You kept caring for him though, pleasing him became your obsession, and he would smile at you, thank you and become distant again. You took a deep breath and called Rhys in your mind, in a blink he appeared in front of you and engulfed you in his arms.

“I missed you so much” he whispered.

“I missed you too” your eyes watered.

“Let’s get you to the house of wind everyone should be there at this time” you nodded, and he picked you up, his wings emerging from darkness, and you were off into the sky. You landed and you couldn’t hold the giggles back, it had been a while since the last time you flew, and you missed it. Cassian probably heard your giggles and ran outside, a shocked expression on his face that turned into tears as he picked you up and span you around.

“You’re back” he boomed and tightened his hold on you. “You’re back… you’re back” he repeated. Cassian always considered you his little sister, the friendship you two always had was special. You couldn’t hold back the tears as you kept whispering “I love you” to him.

After a while he let go of you and you walked inside, Mor and Amren were standing, their faces decorated with bright smiles. Feyre was behind them and she stared at you like she had seen a ghost, you had appeared in her cell under the mountain a couple of times to ease her pain and kept yourself hidden in the crowd when she would be let out. You didn’t want her to recognise you in case someone found out that you were helping her, so now that she saw you again, she knew she wasn’t dreaming back then. You glanced at the table, two females were sitting there, one had a hard expression on her face and the other a sweet smile. Azriel was sitting next to the second one his eyes wide as he saw you. “Hey” you breathed and chuckled when Mor and Amren jumped on you, Cassian’s arms were instantly on your waist to keep you from falling backwards. “We missed you so much” Mor cried. What shocked you though was Amren’s teary eyes, you had never seen her showing any emotion.

“I’m glad you’re back girl” she said and hurried off somewhere -probably to hide her tears.

You glanced at Feyre with a smile, you didn’t want her to thank you, so you nodded and she understood, “Welcome back” she smiled.

“This is my oldest sister Nesta, and this is the middle one Elain.” She continued and the girls nodded in greeting. “Nice to meet you I’m y/n one of the bastards in this group” you chuckled and pointed to Cass and Azriel. The shadowsinger was still frozen in his spot.

“Tough crowd” you muttered to Rhys when they didn’t laugh.

“You’re back…” Azriel’s voice made everyone whip their heads towards him.

“I think we established that” you replied, and he blushed. You expected his shadows to appear and cover his face, but they didn’t. Weird. You thought.

Cassian broke the silence “I think we should have a party today, to welcome you back…... like the old days”.

“Oh no, I’m not in the mood for a party” you groaned. “Okay then just us, a few bottles of wine and snacks” he pushed, his eyes were pleading you and your heart broke. “Okay” you replied with a soft smile.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“So, Cassian and Nesta are mates and Elain is Lucien’s mate?” you asked Mor. She was currently sitting on your bed watching you unpack your stuff and telling you what you had missed.

“Yes, but Azriel is courting her and I think she likes him too” Mor rolled her eyes. You froze. Azriel pinning after Mor was something you came into terms with and accepted as the reason he didn’t have feelings for you. But now… turns out you weren’t enough for him. He wasn’t obsessed with Mor he just didn’t have anyone better to pursue. And that hurt. Fuck him, I went through enough under the mountain I won’t let him hurt me again. I’m done. You decided and ignored the pain in your chest.

“Mor… let’s go to Rita’s tomorrow it has been a while since I had a male in my bed” you told her and she cheered.

You stared at your old clothes, the scandalous dresses you used to wear when you visited the court of nightmares, the leathers you wore in battle, and the leggings and crop tops you used to wear in training. The girl that wore those was cheerful, kind and cared about others so much that she would put them above herself. That girl was dead, she died under the mountain, Amarantha killed her and although Rhys tried to save her, keep her from harm’s way he couldn’t. You picked a tight pair of pants and a crop top. The scars you got from Amarantha’s guards on display, whenever Rhysand wouldn’t do something she asked him to she would torture you until he broke. You didn’t accuse him for it, when he would find you later that day with tears streaming down his face you would tell him that everything is fine and he would fall asleep in your arms, only then he would stop sobbing.

You shook your head and headed to the main room, 4 bottles of wine were placed on the table and bowls filled with snacks around them. Mor and Amren were sitting in front of the fireplace, Rhysand on the armchair next to them with Feyre on his lap, Cassian and Nesta on the big sofa and Azriel with Elain on the ground in front of them. Azriel stared at you, and you ignored him taking a seat next to Mor and grabbing one glass of wine. No one questioned you about where you have been, you saw the glances at your scarred abdomen but still no one dared to say anything. You were talking with Mor and Amren when Azriel cleared his throat, the sound way too close. You slowly turned your head towards him, he wasn’t across the room anymore, he was standing right next to you, so close that you could feel his warmth, you glanced up to him. “Can we talk?” he asked, his hands behind his back and a sad look on his face.

“Yes, what is it?” you replied with a bored look.

“Alone” he was panicking.

“Oh, then no” you smiled.

He blinked, he didn’t expect that, he was used to you saying yes to everything he wanted. And now not only did you say no to him, but you also returned to the conversation you were having with Mor completely unbothered.

“Please” he spoke again and this time his voice was breaking.

“Azriel… as you can clearly see I’m having a conversation right now. Please stop interrupting and get back to your seat, I will come to you when I’m done” The polite smile on your face told him everything he needed to know, you weren’t mad, you just didn’t care anymore, you were done. He gulped and nodded. Cassian placed his hand on Azriel’s shoulder and pulled him back, he guided him to the hall. “What are you doing?” Cassian growled.

“It’s none of your business” Azriel growled back. The shadowsinger’s eyes were challenging him and Cassian pushed him against the wall.

“We just got her back I won’t let you scare her away or hurt her, if you want to get your dick wet sweet Elain will gladly let you. Back the fuck off” Cassian’s voice was lethal, he had never used this tone on his brother. Azriel was fuming, he flared his wings against the wall to get some force and pushed the warlord back.

“It’s not like that and you fucking know it” he hissed. “I just saw her again after all this time… I fucking love her and she is so cold to me that I think I will go mad”.

“Well, it’s too late now, she clearly doesn’t care about you like that anymore so let her go” Cassian pushed him off and left.

When they returned you sent Cassian a questioning look, but he brushed you off, Azriel was seething. When Mor finished the story she was telling you about a girl she met you walked up to Azriel. “I’m available now”.

He got up and gestured you to follow him, Cassian growled. What’s happening? You thought.

He entered his room and waited for you before closing the door.

“Trying to get me into your bed shadowsinger?” you quirked your brow.

“Would you like that?” he asked, and you almost choked on air. “I will pass” you replied.

“How have you been?” he was fidgeting.

“You brought me here to ask that?” you rolled your eyes “Fine I guess, still healing”.

“Did I do something?” he stared at you. “No, why?” “You are ignoring me and whenever I try to approach you I find a cold wall” he replied. “Everything’s fine can I go now?” you shrugged. “Y/n please…” he stopped.

“Please what?” you snapped. He couldn’t look at you, his scarred arms were hidden behind his back and for the first time since you arrived his shadows emerged, most of them covered their master and the rest came to you, slithering around your body and caressing your cheek. “There you are” you giggled and lifted your hand, they happily circled around your wrist and some nested into your palm. Azriel had a soft look on his face at the sight. And then two things happened, two things that he would remember for the rest of his life.

The bond snapped.

And Elain burst in with an annoyed look on her face, making you flinch and then scoff before leaving his room.

You didn’t go back to the main room, you weren’t in the mood anymore, so you entered your bedroom and locked the door. You promised you wouldn’t let him hurt you again and yet here you are alone in your room feeling an ache in your chest. Everything’s fine I will go out with Mor tomorrow and I will forget about him. And with that thought you fell asleep.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Morning came faster than you would like and with a groan you headed to the dining room to get breakfast. Mor, Cassian, Nesta and Elain were already there, you took a seat next to Mor and a plate filled with food appeared in front of you. Elain was glaring at you, you brushed her off and started eating. She scoffed.

“What?” you asked before slamming your fork on the table making her flinch, you smirked.

“Couldn’t you just stay wherever you were? Why did you have to come back and destroy everything?” she asked, her voice breaking and tears streaming down her face.

“Oh please who are you to ask me why I returned to my home? I was here way too long before you, so please shut up. I’m not planning to steal your pretty boyfriend. I couldn’t care less about him or you.” You chuckled and picked up your fork again completely dismissing her.

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t want him, he wants you.” She whispered. This piqued your interest and you glanced at her. “He left me yesterday” she continued.

“You will find someone else” you shrugged, and she scoffed before leaving. “Ouch” Cassian said, and you giggled. Nesta had a hard look on her face, but she didn’t dare to speak, she knew what you meant to the inner circle, and she didn’t want to cause any more trouble.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Evening found you in your room with Mor, both of you spent the day there with a bottle of wine. You were both drunk so getting dressed for your night out took way more time than it normally would.

You hadn’t noticed the dress you picked until you were ready and didn’t have time to change. It was a short blue dress the same shade as Azriel’s siphons. Your back was bare, and the low cut showed off your cleavage, Mor whistled when she saw you. You liked the dress too, you just wished you could change the colour. You shook your head and followed Mor, everyone was sitting in the dining room, their heads snapped in your direction when you walked in.

“We’re going out” Mor informed them and grabbed your hand. “Byee” you giggled as she pulled you away.

You caught a glimpse of the shadowsinger. He was staring at you, a mesmerized look on his face as he took you in. He licked his lips and you almost moaned. Stop it. You reprimanded yourself. You walked out and Mor winnowed you at Rita’s.

“Oh I missed this place” you said with a sigh and smiled. Mor giggled and walked inside.

The place was still the same and quick enough you found yourself dancing and having the time of your life with Mor. You felt someone behind you and hands grabbing your waist, you leaned back and let the stranger grind on you. Mor winked and took a few steps back, the smile on her face vanishing as her eyes widened and before you could react the stranger was yanked away, and you heard a loud cracking noise over the music. You turned around and were met with the sight of a strong back and huge stretched wings. “What the fuck” you yelled and Azriel spun around, he grabbed you and his shadows engulfed you. When the darkness faded you were on a field.

You knew this field, he would take you here whenever you were sad, the view of the whole city and the sparkling flowers always made you feel better. “What the fuck was that?” you screamed.

“What did you expect me to do when I saw another male grinding against my mate?” he screamed too, his voice so loud that the ground trembled. His eyes were wide, and his body tensed with every move you made.

“Oh that’s what this is all about” you laughed. “Your mate. Not me -your mate.”

“No.” he growled “I have loved you way too long before the bond snapped you can ask Cassian… I tried to tell you but Elain interrupted us and at the same time the bond snapped”.

“Too late Az” you whispered. “No it can’t be… please” his eyes watered “I always loved you but I was scared I would lose you if I told you so I pretended that I wanted Mor and then you told me you love me and I didn’t know what to do, so I pushed you away and then Amarantha took you and I thought I lost a piece of my soul. Every day I tried to leave Velaris to find you, but the wards pushed me back. And then Rhysand came back, and you didn’t. I begged him to let me come find you, but he wouldn’t let me. He asked me to give you space, he told me you needed to heal, and I let you. And then you wouldn’t come back, every day I waited for you, but you wouldn’t come” at this point he was crying, his sobs interrupting him. With a deep breath he continued. “I was losing my mind and when Elain started flirting with me, I decided to give it a try, maybe I could get over you with her… I couldn’t but at least she kept me from losing my mind. And then you came back and at first I thought about not telling you but I realized what I was losing and I couldn’t stay away anymore.”

You felt dizzy, every word hitting you with so much force that it took your breath away.

“I will do anything to make it up to you, just say what you want me to do, and I will… I will give you anything you want, even my life, even my wings” he cried and knelt in front of you. His hands grabbed Truth-Teller and he offered it to you “cut them off if you wish I won’t hate you”.

Now you were crying too. He was kneeling in front of you with his head bowed, his hands offering Truth-Teller and his wings stretched behind him to give you easy access.

You grabbed his jaw your palms filling with his tears, and you lifted his head. You knelt too and stared into his eyes.

“Don’t you ever think like that again. I love your wings; I would die to protect them. I love your hazel eyes, I love your scarred hands, I love your body and I love your stupid face. Please don’t make me regret this.” You said and kissed him.

Maybe that girl didn’t die under the mountain, or maybe Azriel brought her back to life either way you were glad. You were alive again.

Requests are open!

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 24

part 1, prev part

“Oh, come on, Maria,” Eddie yells at the TV. Having fallen victim to the soap operas that run nonstop. “If you stopped sleeping with your sister’s husband, maybe she wouldn’t hate you anymore.”

Dustin snorts, finishing up his math homework. Struggling to balance his notebook over his knee. But it was worth it to spend time with Eddie. Eddie who is awake and making progress. So fast that he might actually get out of the hospital in a week or two. Have physical therapy for a while and then be back to himself.

Then everything can really start to feel like normal again.

Steve finally gets there after work. Looking alive and awake instead of drained.

He laughs when he realizes what Eddie’s watching. “Maria still sleeping with Logan?”

“Yes,” Eddie exclaims. “Like what is she thinking?”

“I’m not sure any of these people have actual brain cells,” Steve snorts when he sits next to Dustin. Eddie starting to fill in the storyline Steve has missed in the past few days.

Dustin laughs while trying to get some of his biology homework done. The test is next week and he wants to do well. Wants to prove that he’s still able to get an A after everything. That the one thing he’s prided on isn’t permanently ruined.

There’s a slight rustle as Eddie flips the blankets off of him. And again as he starts to move, slipping one leg after the other off the side of the bed. He isn’t trying to stand. He couldn’t possibly think that’s a good idea.

“What’re you doing?” Steve asks, beating Dustin to the punch. Trying to hide the concern in his voice.

“Going to the bathroom.” Eddie braces his hands on the edge of the bed, ready to try and stand.

Steve shifts to the edge of his seat. “Do you need help? I can call a nurse or something.”

“I think I can use the bathroom by myself, Harrington,” Eddie snaps. Tension rising in his voice.

He pushes himself up, arms shaking as they take on his full weight. His legs extend to a standing position. Causing his full body to shake like his arms. Struggling to keep himself upright. To hold any weight at all.

“See,” he says, voice laced with pain. One hand gripping the handrail, shaking more than the rest of his limbs. Holding most of his weight. “Perfectly capable.”

Dustin can’t help but stare helplessly as Eddie takes his hand off the rail. Tries to step forward, but his legs succumb to the weight. As he falls forward, right into Steve. Steve who stood as soon as the fall started and put himself between Eddie and the floor. Creating a much softer collision.

Steve’s hands grip under Eddie’s armpits, holding him upright. While Eddie’s knees give out and he slides to the floor. Soft and controlled by Steve. A choked sob erupts from Eddie’s throat as he swears.

“Hey,” Steve tries to soothe, “hey, it’s ok. We can get you to the bathroom.”

“Nothing is fucking ok,” Eddie says defeated. Sitting on the floor with his legs splayed behind him. Hands coming up to bat Steve’s hands away. Eyes mirroring the lost, fearful look he had back at the boat house. Glossing over with tears too tired to be shed, but waiting just in case.

Steve looks to Dustin for help, not sure where to go from here. He doesn’t know Eddie like Dustin does.

Dustin shoves his homework off to the side. Sliding off his chair and onto the floor. Filling the space that Steve leaves when he slides over. Still keeping a stabilizing hand on Eddie’s shoulder, but letting Dustin take lead.

“It might not be,” Dustin starts, not sure if it’s in the right spot. “Things might not be ok. And they might not be ok for a little while. But what matters is that you’re awake. You’re getting better, and it takes time and that sucks.”

“I can’t even lift a fucking spoon without getting exhausted,” Eddie interrupts. “I can barely sit up by myself. I used to be able to do so much, and now I’m stuck in this body that I don’t even know how to control anymore.” Eddie takes a shaky breath through his teeth. Exhaling it sharply before taking another. Chest heaving. “And everything, everything, hurts. So much. All of the time and it never stops. I wake up and it hurts, I can’t sleep because it hurts. I’m so tired of it all.”

His head hits the side of the bed as he lets out a breath. Hands shaking as they come to press at his eyes. The tremble traveling down all the way back to his shoulder. Dustin never noticed the severity of it before.

“I know you are, I can’t imagine that you’re not. And if I were in your place, I’d be just as frustrated. But there’s going to be a day where the pain gets better. As your body heals and you learn how to control it again.”

Dustin takes a deep breath, trying to find a way to verbalize the thoughts in his head. To find any way to make Eddie feel better. Coming to the conclusion that there isn’t one answer to this. No one thing that will make the pain subside, or to completely take Eddie’s mind off of it.

But his friend is near tears on the floor of a hospital shaking in pain. Muscles so weak that they can barely hold their own weight. Time spent recovering that he will never get back. Leaving him with unimaginable pain, and memories that are only adding to it all. Maybe things he can’t even remember.

All Dustin can do is try. The same way that Eddie wakes up and tries to get better. The way Steve finds way to make his migraines more manageable. The way that Wayne can step into the hospital day after day before going to work. And the way that Max is learning how to navigate life again.

The way they have all adapted to circumstances thrust upon them than none ever believed could happen. All they all can do is try to make tomorrow better than yesterday. Understanding that there will be times it becomes a little bit worse, and then has to get better all over again. This merry-go-round of healing that none of them have perfected. But try to.

“You will get better, Eddie.”

Eddie huffs. “And if I don’t.”

“You will,” Steve cuts in. “I know cause I did. The bites healed, my head got better. Not without leaving their own unique scars. But you get used to it after a while. The pain, it’s still there, just sometimes isn’t as loud.”

“Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and feel like they’re still biting me.”

Steve scoffs. “Yeah, phantom pains are a bitch. Wait until they start itching like crazy. They’ll give you a cream for it, it doesn’t help.”

Eddie lets out a sarcastic victorious sound. “Help me get back on the bed, please.”

His voice sounds so defeated it hurts. Dustin doesn’t say anything about it though. Knowing what it took just to ask for help. Not needing to make this more difficult that it actually was.

They get Eddie back into the bed. Watching as he falls into the mattres, seeing almost immediate relief. They call a nurse in, see a glimpse into Eddie’s life while they’re not there. What life has been like for him.

What it will be like for him. For who knows how long.

“Your head,” Eddie says after a long break of silence. The question directed at Steve. “I didn’t know there was anything wrong with it.”

Steve nods, gently. “I’ve had about four concussions in my life. Two really severe ones and then two other’s that did not compare. But I get migraines, real bad ones. And there’s this ringing in my right ear that just won’t quit sometimes.”

“Shit, that sucks.”

“Yeah, it does. The migraines get so bad I can barely get out of bed. Barely eat anything. Robin has to come over at feed me smoothies or water so I don’t dehydrate.”

Dustin just sits there and watches as they talk about it. Their pain. Not understanding the full depths of it. The complexities that come only with experience. But he watches as Eddie calms down, knowing that he’s not alone in this. That someone else can understand even a crumb of what he’s going through. Steve looking relieved to finally tell someone else what he’s been going through. To have another person understand.

Eddie eventually falls asleep. Listening to some story Steve thought of to change the subject. To help get Eddie’s mind in a place outside of the hospital. It’s so peaceful when the hospital quiets down as the hours go by. Dustin used to find it excruciating. Now he knows that it means people are at some sort of peace.

Something everyone could use, even for a short period of time.

“You did good in there,” Steve says as they finally leave. “I didn’t really know what to do, but I think you calmed him down a bit.”

“I just hate seeing him like that.”

“I do too.” Steve puts his hand on Dustin’s shoulder. “But he’ll get better, just like you said. It will take a long time, and he might never get back to the place he was before. But he will get better. You’re helping to remind him of that.”

Better isn’t perfect. But it’s good. And good is better than bad. Dustin can take the better this time. Knowing that it will never be perfect, but it will be enough.

next part

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[softgreengrass]

would you be willing to do a sad nat one shot? sorry I just need to feel something 💀

Punishment

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary: you are dead (sorry) and nat has to live with that 😞 (most of this takes place inside of a dream hopefully it’s not too confusing)

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: death,, referenced torture

Author’s Note: sorry this is on the shorter side! tysm for requesting ☺️ i also use fanfiction to feel so hopefully it’s sad enough for you

It’s a nightmare, like always. You’re there, like always.

“Nat!” your voice rings out, light and sweet in the hazy morning light, and Natasha rolls over, burying her face in your side of the bed. It’s still warm. “Nat!”

“Five more minutes,” she grumbles back.

Your footsteps come to a stop next to the bed. “I made cinnamon rolls, you know.”

Natasha smiles to herself. It all feels so, so real. The sheets smell like your lotion, and the sun is pale through the curtains, just like it always is in winter. How it was the last winter you were with her.

You poke her shoulder. “Aren’t you supposed to be a superspy? Get up.”

“I’m off the clock,” she says, sitting up anyways. The glimmer in your eyes looks so real. Her lungs tighten at that, and she wraps her arms around your waist, hugging you tight.

You laugh and run your fingers through her hair. “Missed me that much, huh?”

She closes her eyes and sinks deeper into you, praying as hard as she ever has. Begging for just one more life with you. She remembers how to breathe again as you scratch her scalp gently and lean into her embrace, and she inhales you again.

After far too little time passes, you rest your hands on her shoulders. “Come on, baby. They’re gonna get cold.”

She lets you lead her out of the bedroom, hands intertwined. The apartment looks just how you left it. Because it’s so easy to, she slips back into routine. Like you’re there every day when she wakes up. She tugs open the blinds over the sink and waters the plants on the windowsill; you pour two cups of coffee. You sit down at the table together like it’s any old Saturday.

“What’s with you today?” you ask with a slight smile, immediately pulling a cinnamon roll from the pan.

“Me?” Natasha replies.

“No, the milkman.”

She grins, shaking her head. “Sorry. I don’t know, I’m just out of it.”

“Well, you’re not too out of it to talk crossword, right?”

God, she had forgotten about that. You’ve been on a crossword kick lately, though you heavily rely on Natasha’s knowledge bank of language and policy and science. Really, you mostly cover the pop culture clues. “Never.”

You spread the newspaper out between the both of you and drop a pencil in front of her. “I’ll start with down, you’ll start with across?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You scribble down some answers, eyebrows furrowed.

Natasha stands up for a moment, just to get the cream, but when she turns back around she’s not in the kitchen anymore. She’s strapped to that chair, staring at you in that cell. Your eyes are bloodshot. The dreams always wind up here, no matter how innocently they start, and Natasha’s stomach churns.

“Nat,” you croak, and her heart shatters for the millionth time.

She thrashes against her restraints, but they must be made of fucking vibranium because they cut into her wrists without budging. She doesn’t have any tricks up her sleeve — she’s in her pajamas, for God’s sake. No widow’s bite or portable EMP. Not even a way to signal Clint.

“Nat, please,” you beg, your voice as raw as the bruises on your face.

“I’m going to-” she says, struggling against the restraints again. “I’m going to get you out.”

But of course, she can’t. She might as well be a bronze statue in that chair. They’re going to make her watch you die again.

She racks her brain for as long as she can, fights the excruciating dejá vu. Maybe something will be different this time. Maybe she can get someone’s attention, some lackey she can convince to let her out. She’ll murder them all, then. Murder them and take you home.

A vent catches her eye, in the corner of your cell. You don’t have much at your disposal, but there’s a food tray on the floor that might work. She has to say your name three times before you recognize it.

“What?” you ask suddenly, eyes wide.

“I need you to try something, okay?”

You’re weak. You’ve been there for days at the minimum, been under intense interrogation lights and an array of torture methods. Natasha was the one trained for that, not you. “I don’t know…”

“Please.”

You swallow iron-tinged spit.

“Can you break that in half?” Natasha whispers, flicking her eyes to the tray. She doesn’t remember if you’re under surveillance or not. She figures you must be.

Your hands shake as you reach for it. It must be tin, that’s how flimsy and light it is, but you know you don’t have the strength to break it by hand. That ship sailed about three gut punches ago. You’d vomited out everything but your will to live, though that was fading fast too.

“Use your legs,” Natasha hisses like she can read your mind. “Stick it under something, get leverage.”

The sight of you stumbling to the bunk sends fire up her throat. She’s going to burn them all alive.

You wedge the tray under one of the bunk’s legs and pull up on the other side before stepping down on it as hard as you can. All it does is fold in half.

“Fuck,” Natasha mutters. “Can you rip it? With your teeth or something?”

You’re pretty sure your teeth would fall out if you so much as bite an apple, so you drive the tray down on the sharpest edge you can find: the corner of the tiny sink. Later, Natasha will think about how strange it was that the cell had so many amenities. She’ll come up with triple the ways to escape. All too late.

The corner pierces it, and you claw at the hole until the tray is split in half. It slices your fingers in more places than you can count.

“Use it on the vent,” Natasha says. Despite herself, she feels an ember of hope in her chest. You’d never gotten this close before. She can barely watch as you balance on top of the sink, trying to shove the sharp little metal sheet into the seam between the vent and wall. It’s slippery with blood.

A door in the cell she hadn’t even noticed swings open. A man in black storms in. Before she can get a word out, he grabs you, throws you to the ground.

Natasha recoils, forcing her eyes back open as quickly as possible. He kicks you, over and over, and you cry for mercy.

Her restraints seem to tighten. They cut off her circulation, so that not even dislocating her wrists would let her save you. She’s absolutely helpless. You sob and curl into yourself, and she’s sure she’s never felt such anguish before. But she has, and she certainly will again.

Her eyes shoot open to dark ceiling. She’s in the living room, using the couch like a cot. She still hasn’t brought herself to touch the bed you made. She probably never will.

She drags herself to her feet and shuffles to the kitchen counter, turning on the electric kettle. Only chamomile helps her breathe now.

All those people she’d managed to kill. All those missions she’d executed to perfection, for the Red Room and HYDRA and Fury. All of the people caught in the crossfire of her tunnel vision. And yet, in the single most important moment of her life, she had failed. Failed.

She figures it could’ve been karma. A cosmic punishment for the arrogance of trying to wipe her slate clean. With that much sin to atone for, she shouldn’t be able to live happily. That’s what the universe seems to think, at least.

[newtthetranswriter]

I'm here to cure your bordem! o7 how are you?

What if peke J took a liking to a new neighbor that just moved in? peke J spending most of his time occupying the new neighbors time <3

How would baji and chifuyu feel or act??

Welcome to my little blog, I’m doing okay. How are you doing? Anyway you didn’t specify if you wanted headcanons or drabble so I’m gonna do a little bit of both if that's okay. Also I wrote this to be fairly platonic, I hope that’s okay. Anyway enjoy, have a good day and remember to hydrate or diedrate.

How it starts:

First off they had no clue someone just moved in, being too busy with toman and school they didn’t notice the moving truck or new name on the mail boxes.

Let’s be honest, they probably only realized someone new lived there when Chifuyu noticed Peke J was missing the first time.

Chifuyu’s first thought was that Peke just snuck out to visit Baji, but upon questioning his friend it was brought to their attention they had no clue where the cat had run off too.

Baji being the only one with a brain cell suggested looking around the complex because he had to be around there somewhere while Chifuyu had a mini meltdown thinking he had lost his cat for good.

Chifuyu would take the suggestion and start looking in the dumbest places for Peke J, the trash cans, behind a potted plant next to a random apartment door, Baji on the other hand was politely knocking on doors asking if they had seen the cat.

After about half an hour Chifuyu had slumped to the floor once again believing Peke J had run away never to be seen again. All Baji could think to do is suggest that they make missing posters for the cat.

Before Chifuyu could even nod in agreement the aforementioned cat just walked over and layed in his lap, shocking the boys.

    “Oh you must be his owner.” Said a voice that neither boy recognised. Turning to the voice, they noticed someone standing at the door to an apartment only a few doors from Chifuyu’s apartment. “Wait, are you okay, you look like you’ve been crying?”  the stranger walked over kneeling next to the blonde who just looked stunned, where the hell did you come from?

   Collecting his train of thought Baji spoke first. “Sorry about this, Chifuyu was just really worried about Peke J, I’m Keisuke Baji and the idiot on the floor is Chifuyu Matsuno” He introduced himself. Chifuyu shot Baji a glare before focusing on Peke J.

   “It’s okay, I can understand being worried about such a sweet cat. Anyway I’m Y/n Y/l/n, I just moved in a week ago. It's nice to meet you two.” You responded standing back up. “Well now that I don’t have a cat laying on all my stuff I have things to finish unpacking so I’ll see you guys around.” With that you disappeared into your apartment leaving two gang members and a cat.

   Chifuyu took that as his cue to pick up Peke J and finally get off the floor. “Who knew we had a new neighbor? Anyway bad cat, you shouldn’t be bugging strangers.” He said holding the cat like a baby. Baji just laughed at his friend, scolding the cat notorious for sneaking out. “What are you laughing at?” Chifuyu said to the grinning boy.

   Shaking his head, Baji just waved him off and headed for the stares. “You’re just stupid, anyway I’m going home now that you found your cat, bye.”

    Little did Chifuyu or Baji know this would be a regular occurrence, every few days Peke J would just disappear. Chifuyu would first go to Baji then have to go knock on your door to see if the cat had once again decided to bug you. After the fifth time he stopped bugging Baji about it, and would just ask you. 

Chifuyu’s feelings on the situation:

Again when Peke J first went missing it freaked him out, like that’s his baby and he just disappeared

But after a few times he accepted that it was just going to keep happening.

Chifuyu would also feel bad for the fact that you had to deal with his cat that would randomly escape, but after multiple conversations assuring him that it’s fine he would apologize but understood that it wasn’t bugging you

He got so used to Peke J going over to hang out with you that if there was a toman meeting or he knew a fight was coming up he would ask if you could keep an eye on Peke J until he got home.

On more than one occasion he would open his phone to see a picture of Peke J asleep somewhere in your apartment when Chifuyu could have sworn the cat was just on his bed.

Eventually he accepted that it was now a split parenting relationship, only differences is are one Peke J is a cat, two you guys aren’t together and never were, and third neither of you had control over when and where the cat wanted to stay

As Peke J spent more time at your place Chifuyu did as well slowly adding you to the mini friend group of him and Baji

Chifuyu also is 100% in support of the random pictures you send of Peke J dressed in various costumes, though his favorite was a mini Toman jacket you had either made yourself or commissioned to be made for the cat if you aren’t very crafty.

Baji’s feelings on the situation:

At first was also worried about the cat, mostly because he knew Chifuyu would lose his shit if something actually happened to Peke J

Got tired of the constant texts saying ‘have you seen Peke J’ from Chifuyu and was the one to suggest he just ask you.

Finds it funny that half the time Peke J chooses you over Chifuyu.

Baji would definitely tell the whole gang that Chifuyu now shares custody of a cat with the new person in the building

He would go with Chifuyu to pick up Peke J after Toman meetings to chat with you cause if you’re gonna be a part of the group he might as well make an effort.

When he saw the cat sized Toman jacket he nearly died laughing at it, because who in their right mind makes a biker gang jacket for a cat, he then immediately sends pictures to everyone.

Honestly he’s happy to have another friend, even if you’re not a fighter and just watch his buddy’s cat, you’re cool, so why not hang out with you sometimes.

Overall I see it starting out as Chifuyu thinking he’s bugging you and Baji just accepting that a cat has picked the newest member of the friend group.

[unreliablesnake]

Somebody like you – part II (Harry Wells x reader)

Summary: You left the day after Harry kissed you and now he believes he chased you away. But when you return, you don’t hesitate to explain yourself.

Note: part 1 / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics.

Harry kissed you one time out of instinct and you fled right away. He thought you liked it too, he thought you felt the same way, but apparently you didn’t. You returned to A.R.G.U.S. where you had worked between the black hole incident and the day the team called you back soon after he arrived, and conveniently went no contact with him due to security measures there.

And now there he was, anxious and worried to death because Zoom had his daughter, and also because you were out there, out of his sight, basically served on a silver plate for the evil speedster. If he knew about you, he could easily kill this version of you as well to torture him even more than he already was.

You never explicitly told him he was the reason why you left, but he could feel that it was all because of that stupid kiss. He didn’t believe the whole “they just called me back to help with something I used to work on” excuse you came up with. It was too big a coincidence to believe. It bothered him, he blamed himself for chasing you away, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

Even after they freed Jesse, after he had entirely new things to worry about, Harry often found himself thinking about you. If you were only there to support him, to be by his side and ease the pain he felt–but you weren’t. You were hiding somewhere far from him, and on worse days he wondered which member of this little team kept in touch with you to keep you updated about whether or not he was still here.

“Look who’s back!” Harry heard Cisco’s voice from the cortex one day.

He pushed himself away from the desk he was working at to see who it was, and when he saw you standing there, he almost lost his balance with the swivel chair. It was you. It was really you standing there with that big and happy smile on your face, hugging the team as a greeting.

“How are things at A.R.G.U.S.?” Barry asked you with a laugh once he let go.

Whatever you said in response, his brain didn’t register your words. He didn’t care–he couldn’t care–when every cell in his body was ready to move towards you. All he had to do was stand up and walk over to where you stood. It wasn’t hard. Yet he couldn’t get himself to move because his brain was telling him you would only push him away, and he didn’t want his daughter and the entire team to witness that.

Yes, his ego was in the way.

Harry knew he was staring at you, but despite this he wasn’t really paying attention to what you said or did, this is why he only realized you were on the move when you were standing right in front of him. He gulped as he stood up and watched you with a nervous smile.

“Welcome back. How long will you stay?” he asked you hoarsely.

“As long as I can,” came your answer. “I’m done with that project, I have no reason to be there anymore.”

The others were watching you, he could see that over your shoulder, but it didn’t matter now. Maybe it was time to let go of his fears, maybe it was time to start an honest conversation. “Why did you leave?” Your eyes narrowed in confusion. “I kissed you and the next day you announced you were leaving. Why did you leave?”

You suddenly started laughing, almost causing him to jump from surprise. “Harry, I didn’t leave because you kissed me. If I could, I would have called you, but the A.R.G.U.S. facility I was in has very strict rules,” you told him, slowly leaning closer. “To be honest, I thought about that kiss and you quite a lot.”

“Is that so?”

“I missed your grumpy attitude,” you whispered.

“I’m not grumpy,” he defended himself, but you only shook your head with a smile. “Yeah, maybe I am, but never with you.”

It was you who reached out to pull his head down and kiss him gently on the lips, drawing a series of whistles and claps from the team in the background. He couldn’t care less about the audience when he finally had you in his arms again. Safe and happy, just the way he wanted.

He pulled away for a second to take a better look at you, appreciating the view for the millionth time since you had met here the first time. You tilted your head to the side as you watched him, probably trying to figure out why he stopped, but he only smiled at you briefly before pulling you into a tight hug and rested his chin on top of your head.

Jesse was by now deep in a conversation with Caitlin, her eyes occasionally falling on him as they talked. He knew she was probably asking about you and he couldn’t blame her. She knew your doppelgänger, and knowing how smart his girl was, she probably had her suspicions already.

“They are staring, aren’t they?” you asked quietly.

“Of course they are,” came his response that lacked the usual hint of disapproval or sarcasm. He had grown to like these people, and while he wasn’t about to call them family, they were still more than simple friends. “Ready for the questions?”

You hummed in agreement as you let go of him, but you couldn’t even turn around before Jesse arrived. Harry was a little worried that she would disapprove of this thing you two had, but he was pleasantly surprised when her lips curled into a wide grin.

“Can I talk to you, Dad?”

And with this question the pleasant surprise turned into pure terror. You didn’t seem to notice and he was honestly grateful for that. You told them you would go over to the others, so he soon found himself feeling cornered by his own daughter.

“Please tell me this is not happening only because you lost our version of her,” Jesse began in a hushed voice. “I always knew you had feelings for her, I saw how badly her death hurt you, so don’t blame me for worrying about this version being nothing more than a cheap replacement.”

“Don’t call her that,” he warned her.

“I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I just want to make sure you really like her for who she is here, and not for what her doppelgänger was like.”

Harry drew in a deep breath as he thought about this. She was clever and she was right, and he had never had the time to truly get to know you. Sure, he paid attention to you even when you were avoiding him, so in a way he learned a lot about you, but he wasn’t sure if you saw past the little detail that he was your old crush’s Earth-2 counterpart.

Gulping loudly, Harry looked over at you and let out a groan. “I like her for who she is,” he said, and although he wanted to finish the sentence, he decided to fall silent instead.

And this silence was louder than he assumed it would be. “You’re not sure if she likes you for who you are,” Jesse pointed out, earning a nod from him. “I can ask her.”

“Or I can keep whatever this is going on and we’ll find out along the way,” he suggested with a smile.

“That might work too,” Jesse agreed with a shrug.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi Hi Hi!!! lol sorry I’m the anon who called you TWST Jesus! It’s just a new thing I do whenever I find a tumblr blog where people frequently ask the person to do in depth analysis type stuff on whatever fandom they write for 😂

This actually ties in with an ask you got from two other anons a while ago (they wanted your opinion on whether you think Leona will already be aware of his dream in the next part of book 7). I saw a post from today of a screenshot from back in book 6, and in it Idia is saying “Leona’s probably the kind of guy who always know’s he’s dreaming, where’s the fun in that?” And then it struck me…is it possible that the devs used that as foreshadowing for the Savanaclaw portion of Book 7? We all know Leona is beyond exceptionally intelligent, noticing things that other students haven’t, coming up with plans on the fly, and the game has been very consistent with that. So is it possible that the game developers decided to use that line as a way to foreshadow that Leona will already know he’s dreaming? Because honestly it wouldn’t be like him to NOT know, especially with how frequently he sleeps, or do you think it was a coincidence? 🧐

Here’s the post I was looking at: https://www.tumblr.com/ladyyummy/759496757321318400/calling-it-now-leonas-gonna-know-hes

Here’s your post that I said ties in with this ask: https://raven-at-the-writing-desk.tumblr.com/post/758633674087579648/idk-if-anyone-brought-this-up-before-but

[Referencing this post!]

Aaah, I see 😅

I don’t think we can really say one way or another whether Idia’s one line is meant to be foreshadowing… TWST has a track record of promising things but then not delivering on them just as much as it actually foreshadows things and then actually follows through with it. They’ve fucked up before with representing Leona’s intelligence and it’s possible that they miss this opportunity the same as they did back then.

I’d personally love for nothing more than the monotonous dream segments to be significantly changed up and for the main story to acknowledge Leona’s big brain cells again, but at the same time I don’t know if I have the faith in TWST to break from the pattern they’ve established, especially so late in the list of boys to wake up. If TWST wanted to do something different, I feel like now’s too late and they should have started changing things up for every dorm so Leona’s not the only one that stands out. I mean… better late than never, but I feel like that would only contribute to the wonky pacing of book 7, and not in a good way OTL I dunno, it’s complicated.

[chibilino]

IDFC

synopsis: You and your roommate are oblivious to each other's feelings

pairings: roommate! Haechan x fem! reader

genre: college!au, fluff, angst, 3 smau slides

warnings: kind of mention of sex, food, alcohol, crying, swearing, grammar

word count: 2.4k

You stood in the kitchen, making yourself a cup of tea when your roommate had left for the first party of the weekend. It was his turn to host the party pregame get-together, meaning you got absolutely zero studying done for the past roughly three hours he and his friends were there. You look over to the time on the display of the microwave as you pour the hot water from the kettle into your cup. If it’s 10pm now, that means Donghyuck likely won’t be back until around 2am, so I can get 4 good hours of studying in. You thought to yourself as you walked back to your room. You plop back down at your desk, sighing as you straighten all of your papers, looking for the best place to begin. 

You had been able to sit and concentrate on the papers sprawled on your desk for about 3 hours before it all started to look the same, indicating you had used all of your allotted brain cells for said task and forced yourself to sit on the couch and watch Charmed. To say it was your comfort show would be an understatement. When you first moved in, Donghyuck complained the entire month of October because he was forced to watch nothing but Charmed if you were home. Although he complained the entire time, he still stayed and watched with you, letting you explain parts he didn’t quite understand due to the fact he had missed an episode, or 7, because he was either taking an exam, pretending to study for said exam, or partying. 

Donghyuck wasn’t a bad roommate by any means. He was respectful of shared spaces and always made sure to not use any of the grocery items you had purchased without getting permission from you first, and on the off chance that he needed to, he would replace it and text you almost immediately. He was so friendly and nice to you when you first moved in, and it shouldn’t go unmentioned that he is not bad to look at. The situation was very stressful for both you and Donghyuck. You were kicked out by your previous landlord because he was selling the building and only giving you 2 weeks of notice to find somewhere else to live while you finish your degree, and Donghyuck’s previous roommate dropping out altogether and leaving him with the rent of the two bedroom apartment. 

The only downside was when he got drunk. 

You liked to call Donghyuck “Haechan” when he was drunk, because to you, he felt like a different person. You had been at the same party as him and his friends before and let's just say it was a less than desirable experience. You were familiar with his fuck boy antics when he was drunk but hearing them is completely different from seeing them begin with your own eyes. 

You had planned to only watch an episode or two and then confine yourself to your bedroom before Haechan got home, but things didn't go as planned. Instead you fell asleep on the couch, and were woken up to your loud roommate stumbling into your shared apartment. 

“Honey, I’m home!” he sang as he haphazardly kicked off his shoes, leaving them in the entryway before walking in a zig-zag pattern to the living room where you looked up at him from the couch groggily. 

“It’s 2 in the morning. Must you be so obnoxious?” you spat before slowly standing up from the cozy spot on the couch and making your way to the kitchen to return your mug. Donghyuck followed behind you as he began to tell you the events of tonight's party, slurring most of the words as they fell from his lips. You could tell by his demeanor that he would not remember the majority of tonight and you were slightly surprised he was even able to make it home in one piece. You make a mental note to thank Renjun the next time you see him while rinsing your mug in the sink before placing it into the top rack of the dishwasher. 

“You’re looking at the new pong champion, y/n” he says as he flexes his right arm and places a kiss on his bicep. If he won and looks like this, you don’t want to know what the others who played looked like. 

“That’s great, Hyuck” you respond, walking back to the living room to finish your episode of Charmed, Donghyuck followed suit. Sitting on one end of the couch, you throw the blanket over yourself and wiggle to get into the most comfortable position. Donghyuck takes this opportunity to sprawl out next to you, laying his head on your lap in the process. This action didn’t startle you as it happened frequently. Donghyuck was a very physically affectionate person and things like this mini cuddle session became a norm in your shared apartment. To him, your thighs were just better than a pillow, but to you, to you it was more than that. 

You always underestimated your feelings for Donghyuck, pushing them to the back of your heart, telling yourself it would be better to just suppress them, that nothing good would come from confessing. However, nights like this made doing just that extremely difficult. After a few seconds your fingers found their way into his hair and you could feel him relax further into your lap. You look down at him with a smile before that same smile turns into a frown when you remind yourself that no matter how much you want this to mean something for both of you, it will never happen. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up the next morning, still on the couch with Donghyuck, his head still on your lap and your hand still in his hair, the only difference is the grip of his arms around your thigh. You move slightly, hoping the movement was enough to make him loosen his grip on your leg but not so much to tear him from sleep. Luck seemed to be on your side today, his grip loosened enough for you to slide your body out from under him and off the couch as you walked lightly towards your room, closing the door behind you. 

About an hour has passed since you hid in your room. You made your way to the kitchen, deciding it was more than enough time to not seem suspicious. You heard Donghyuck groan from the couch and you peek around the corner to see him. 

“Rough night,huh?” You say as Heachan sits up from his previous position on the couch, rubbing his head. You grab 2 ibuprofen and a glass of water before walking into the living room and placing them on the table in front of Donghyuck. 

“I think so? I honestly don’t remember most of it.” He takes the medication you brought him and sip the water before placing the mostly filled glass back on the table. 

“Yea. That’s not surprising at all. You walked in at 2am and screamed “Honey. I’m home!”” You chuckled slightly. The interaction last night was annoying but looking back you found it almost endearing. Donghyuck cringed at the thought and made a vow to never drink again, you both know it was a lie. “You should probably let Renjun know that you’re alive.” You tell him before walking back to your room and text Renjun yourself

You spend the rest of your day avoiding your hungover roommate. Renjun’s text keeps you in your thoughts the entire time. 

The next day starts similarly to the day prior, the only difference was Hyuck and his friends pre-gamed at Jeno’s house instead of yours. You study for a few hours and are brought back to reality by the front door opening and what sounded like 2 people stumbling inside. You hear the sounds of a girl giggling followed by Haechan shushing her. Your heart sinks a bit as you realize what is happening and put your headphones on, turning the volume high enough to drown out the sounds you know are coming. Studying becomes increasingly difficult just imagining what is happening in the room down the hall, so you decide to attempt to sleep. Headphones still on, volume slightly higher than before, you lay in bed, watching tiktoks until you eventually can’t keep your eyes open any longer. 

You hear the girl leave the next morning before Donghyuck starts to stir, and you just lay in bed for a few minutes until you know she’s gone. You slowly make your way to the kitchen, making yourself a coffee as well as Donghyuck, since you know he would need it. You place the usual ibuprofen next to a glass of water as you begin breakfast. Donghyuck enters the kitchen groggily as you place a plate of pancakes, bacon, and eggs next to the medication, water, and coffee. 

“Good Morning.” You say, your voice is a bit weaker than anticipated, still hurt by Hyucks actions and the text from Renjun the day before.  

“God I love you.” He says before taking the meds and stuffing his face with breakfast. You swear you can audibly hear your heart shatter into a million pieces at his words. You smile slightly as you try to mask the pain. 

“Everything okay?” He asks, still shoveling food into his mouth. 

“Yea. I’m fine.” an obvious lie but Donghyucks head hurts too badly and he is enjoying the food too much to notice. “Just have a big exam that I’m worried about, that's all.” You fake a smile as you take a bite of your breakfast. 

“Well. If anyone can ace it, it's you!” he replies enthusiastically. You give another light smile before quickly placing your dishes in the dishwasher and retreating to your room to study. 

Not long after, Donghyuck takes it upon himself to come into your room and plop himself on your bed. 

“May I help you?” You ask without looking away from your notes. 

“Bored.” He says with a huff. 

“Why don’t you hang out with one of your girlfriends” You reply, a bit of disdain in your voice. 

“Where is all of this coming from?” He was confused. You normally enjoyed his company while studying, and he would occasionally help. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” all of the emotions you have held back for so long came crashing in like a tsunami wave. 

“What do you mean? Do what? Y/N what’s going on?” Donghyuck was now concerned on top of his confusion as he watched the tears fall from your eyes onto the notes you had sprawled on your desk. 

“Please just go Hyuck.” You say, wiping the tears from your face. 

“Y/N” 

“Go.” Your voice is softer than anticipated. Donghyuck slowly stood from your bed and made his way out of your room to his. 

He laid on his bed staring at the ceiling, trying to wrack his brain to find what could have caused you to have this outburst. It couldn’t have been the girl he brought home last night, right? You didn’t reciprocate his feelings for you so why would you care if he tried to get over you. He pulled out his phone and texted Renjun. Out of all of his friends, you were closest to Renjun after him of course. 

After Donghyuck had left you pulled your knees to your chest and sobbed at your desk. Your phone lit up with a text from Renjun. 

After texting Renjun, you moved from your desk to your bed. A hood pulled around your head. Your face is stained with tears and your eyes puffy from crying. A soft knock can be heard from your door but you don’t have the energy to move or even vocalize to let them in or tell them to go away. After a moment of silence, Donghyuck slowly opens the door. 

“y/n?” he asks in the darkness of our room, waiting what felt like an eternity to me for you to answer. When you don’t respond he slowly makes his way to your bed and sits gently on the edge near your feet, looking down at his fidgeting hand trying to find his words.

You start to speak before he can. Your voice startles him and shakes him from his thoughts. 

“I can’t keep doing this.” Your voice still meek from crying. You cough slightly before speaking again. “I can’t keep doing this little…. Dance we’re doing.” You try to take a deep breath to keep yourself from crying again, but your voice quivers slightly. “I have feelings for you, Hyuck. I try to act like I don’t and that I don’t care but I do, and it scares me. It scares me because you act like you feel the same, like when you lay with me and watch Charmed and let me play with your hair.” You smile at the memory from 2 nights ago, only for a moment though, and then the tears fill again threatening to spill as you continue “but then you go and bring a girl home and fuck her while I’m here… and then tell me you love me the next morning..” You stop for a moment as tears start to fall. “I can’t tell if it’s all pretty lies or if you feel the same but I am so tired.” You try to get your breathing under control. “Tired of trying, tired of hiding how I feel, and tired of feeling…. Like this…” You gesture to the air exacerbated before pulling your knees to your chest once again, and waiting for Donghyuck to speak. 

He just stares at you for a minute, trying to gather his thoughts, but his body reacted faster than his brain could. Next thing he knew he was kneeling next to you, gently lifting your chin to look at him, before softly pressing his lips to yours. You don’t react right away, still trying to process all of the things you had just said. After a few seconds you relax and begin to kiss back, your lips moving in sync. You pull away, both unable to do anything but look at eachother. 

“I love you.” Donghyuck finally broke the silence. “And not like an innocent, friendly, “I love you”, like I am in love with you.” Your eyes go wide as you register his words. 

“I love you, too” You reply without realizing it. 

[cerise-on-top]

White Hank Falling in Love with an Enemy

I really wanted to write for my girl again because I missed her so so much, so this idea was born! It's not the best thing I've ever written, but I thought the idea was interesting! Maybe I should add that there's mentions of violence, but this is Madness Combat, so the violence is to be expected!

It would be a curious thing, really. Wank was a top mercenary, she knew what she was doing, she was a professional in every regard. And then came you. Little you who fought a little bit too hard for her liking, who kept dodging her attacks and refused to die. It was quite bothersome to her. And, whether it be through whim or will, you struck her down. She was barely conscious, barely saw what you were about to do to her, usually unmanageable pain coursing through her. With you standing in front of her, looking down on her, she was certain she’d need to be revived yet again. She had been sliced in half and lived, so why did some no one like you beat her in combat?

And yet, nothing came afterwards.

Wank’s vision was blurry, she could barely move having been beaten black and blue by someone she’s never seen before, by someone she was certain she’d never see again after this. But somehow, for a reason unknown to her, you never struck her after the initial few blows. You merely stood there, regarding her. She wasn’t bleeding out, there were only a few bullets stuck in her body, she should have been able to get up and kill you then and there. Stuck in her own body that refused to do anything but lie there, looking up at you, she forced her arm to move. Nothing. Wank grew increasingly more frustrated as time passed. You could have called for reinforcements, you could have sliced her head off. None of this would have been her first time, but no. You simply looked at her, before having the gall to kneel down next to her.

It was a simple statement, one that held true no matter how one looked at it: “You’re strong.” That she was. She had had to fight for her life ever since she was young, if there was one thing Wank was, it was strong. Fierce. Powerful. She wasn’t to be messed with, no matter what. Many people were happy to never come across her in the first place. Why were you so stupid? You must have been a special kind of idiot. With every passing second she would be closer to being able to move again, with every passing second you would be closer to your demise. Stay away from her and there’s a chance you might never cross paths again. If you had any brain cells then that fact should have been obvious.

“I would like to fight with you again at some point. Do you think that can be arranged?”

She was sure she had misheard you. If she could have moved she would have pointed her finger at you and laughed. This time was a fluke and nothing else, next time you’d wind up dead. Better kill her now, better kill her in one shot. She will be back, but you might have a peaceful night or two. Your voice was gentle and calm, aside from your uneven breathing. It was almost pleasant to listen to, in some way.

“Are you stupid? I’m one of the most wanted mercenaries in Nevada, next time we fight I’m gonna fight dirty and make sure you end up in The Other Place. Don’t test me.”

You got up and grabbed an item Wank couldn’t quite make out from her position. Another table, another item. Soon enough, you turned around and she saw what you managed to get: Tweezers and bandages. Kneeling down next to her, you got to work.

“In that case I’m gonna fight dirty as well, wouldn’t want to be outdone by you, after all.” It almost got on her nerves how nothing she did seemed to faze you. Wank didn’t even flinch as you worked on removing the bullets from her shoulder, but hissed as you bandaged her wounds. “Normally grunts cry in pain when you remove a bullet from their body without anesthetics, you know?” Diligent as you could be, it didn’t take very long for Wank to feel better, to not feel the blood flow from her every pore. The pressure was uncomfortable, debilitating her ability to move, but at the very least she could move again. Her glare was like ice, it could freeze anyone’s blood just by seeing it. Anyone’s but yours as you faced the table again to put the leftover bandages away.

“Guess I’m not like normal grunts, then.” Wank’s voice could corrode a wall of metal with her poison. Cautious and wary, she got up, watching your every move. The way you carried yourself showed some grace that was unusual in most grunts. Seems like you’re not a normal one either, then. She picked up her blade and pointed it at your back. “This was a mistake on your behalf, I hope you know that.”

“Was it, though?” The sword poked your back. One thrust and you’d be done for. What made you so confident that she won’t kill you just like that? She could, she would, and you’d face an eternity in hell if you continue to be this falsely confident. Have a bit more fear, will you!

You turned around to face her again, your face not betraying your emotions in the slightest. “Go ahead, kill me.”

An invitation that Wank would have loved to take. She could already see it: Your guts on display for everyone to see. Another betrayal from someone who thought they could rule the world. You were another speck of dust on this rotten planet. The thought of slicing you in half, for some reason, filled Wank with disgust. Your brains on the wall, your blood covering every inch of the floor, your limbs hanging from the ceiling. Normally such a thought would make Wank smile. Especially if it’s the innards of a confident bastard she could imagine someone else finding. But in your case, there was nothing like it. Somehow, the idea was abhorrent to her. Lowering her sword, she walked up to you, pushing you against the wall by your neck. “What did you do to me? What did you coat those tweezers in that your death feels so wrong? I’m going to kill you!”

No matter how hard she pushed you, Wank was certain at some point you’d be crushed between her and the wall, you didn’t budge. “I put nothing on them. This really isn’t my fault.”

The sword slowly made its way to your neck. One slice and you’d be done for. And yet, even now, Wank couldn’t move. Visions of your head lying next to your body flooded her mind. No glee, no joy, only a mad kind of confusion that made her question everything she stood for. And with that, she released you again. “Fine, you’ll get another battle. Today, I’ll let you live. We’ll fight again when the time is right.”

“I appreciate it, thank you. Let’s hope we’ll have another kind of closure afterwards.”

“Fuck you.” She put her free hand up high, showing off her middle finger as she walked through the door to the other room. This was going to be interesting indeed.

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Never Say Die [4]

Part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | you’re here | Part 5

Quick note, the tag list is full. So now the only way that you can get notifications about the next date is if you turn on notifications on my blog. (Which if you are hesitant about this, I don’t spam my board at most I’ll post twice a day so this can be a option for you :) though I’m not sure if there’s any other way or notifying people. If you know a way let me know!

Steve was laying in his bed, blanket pulled off from him as he stares out at the night sky. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, though he made sure to shut his door. The only thing allowed to see him this vulnerable was the full moon outside. As time slowly passes by, he feels like one of those princesses that’s stuck in the castle. He hasn’t been able to do anything yet, Hopper and Joyce were currently in the process of coming up with a backstory as to how he was alive. He misses a lot of things more now that he was home compared to when he was locked in the prison. He misses being able to be seen with Robin. He misses being able to relax in a bed. Though, no matter where he’s been he knows the one consistent thing that’ll always be there for him.

The moon.

The moon that watched him get tortured in his cell, sometimes even left outside in the freezing snow for a night for a punishment. Of course there were nights the moon wasn’t there. Especially the nights when the new moon was taking its turn on the calendar. But even that brought him comfort. In his eyes new beginnings were always over the horizon.

Dink!

It was coming from his window. Before his brain can think he’s already tossed himself on the carpeted floor. Rug burn already catching to his knees as he crawls over. Careful for whatever or whoever to not see him. He was being ridiculous. He was on the second floor. There was no way anyone could see him. His breathing is loud and shaky as he keeps his arms tightly crossed around himself. He knew he could fight, but in that moment he was prepared to hide. Though in reality, if it really was something he couldn’t be getting himself killed right when everyone just got him back. That and if he was laying there bleeding out from whatever was being shot at his window, who was supposed to warn Hopper and Joyce.

Steve really needed to slow his role. Think rationally, right as another small thunk like noise comes from the glass. Closing his eyes he takes the moment to think rationally. He’s heard that noise before. When he used to sneak into girls rooms before everything. The smallest of pebbles he could find would be thrown at their windows to catch their attention. Someone was trying to get his attention. Now he needs to come up with the decision of whether or not this person knows he’s alive or not. If this went wrong the whole town would know he was alive and think he was being kidnapped. After a few more moments, he lets his deductive skills kick in. He felt like Sherlock Holmes.

There was no way someone he didn’t know would be throwing pebbles at his window. It was definitely someone he knows. Why they didn’t just go through the front door was beyond him. Or how they snuck by Hoppers senses.

He moves slowly after the third pebble hits the frame of the window, a bit louder then the others. Carefully placing his hands underneath as he lifts the window open. A silent as possible. He pokes his head out, a small pebble hitting him in the cheek right as he does. Hissing in slight pain as his hand flies up to hold the agitated skin. He glares down, trying to see who it was. But once again his vision wasn’t as good as it used to be. Nor was his hearing. He had taken his hearing aid out, so there was just a slightly muffled blob standing in his lawn.

“Hold on. I can’t see, and I can’t hear you.” Steve whisper yells. Moving and grabbing his hearing aid. Getting it situated before he’s sliding on a shirt, one that used to be to tight on him. Now it was a bit loose, from the slight weight loss from the prison. He was gaining it back with muscle, forcing Hopper to work out with him in their basement. A small corner designated to his small gym and the other side of the basement designated to DnD. “Who is it?” He hisses out. The fuzziness from his ear clearing up. Focusing on the person below instead of the crickets that surrounded them.

“It’s me.” The voice whispers back. Steve can’t help but snort a little, holding back a laugh.

“Well- me. If I could recognize you by voice I would. But I’m not hearing you that well still.”

A small groan is heard before the male, Steve was able to figure that much out. The guys voice was deep and scratchy. As if he spent a lot of time smoking.

“It’s Eddie!” Eddie says a lot louder then before. Steve frowns as he hears the other.

“Oh.” He says dumbly. “What do you want?” Steve asks. Unsure as to why his best friends other best friend was currently outside his window like some secret boyfriend. It was very strange being on the receiving end of this.

“Well- Robin was supposed to be here with me but we were going to kidnap you and take you out for the night. But her parents busted her climbing out the window.” Eddie rambles out quickly. Trying to stay as silent as possible.

Steve raises a eyebrow, something seemed off in the others statement. Though Steve wasn’t going to look to far into it as he puts a finger out telling the other to hold on. He moves to his closet, tossing on a sweater. Moving and sliding on a extra pair of shoes. His regular pair were downstairs. He moves to the window, as silent as possible. Moving to dangle out. Hearing the slight cursing of one Eddie Munson.

“Dude, you could have taken the front door.” Eddie hisses out.

“No I can’t. Hopper is like- superhuman. He can since when the force is off or some shit.” Steve hisses back. Looking down for a second before he’s swing himself over and throwing himself to the shaky pipe that went up the side of the house. Sliding down with ease. Though he wasn’t sure whether or not it would be sturdy enough for his weight to climb back up.

Steve hops down in front of Eddie, wiping his hands off on his pants as he grins jokingly. “Like a ninja.”

Causing the other boy to hold back a snort of laughter. Moving to wave Steve along to follow him. Steve does, creeping next to the house and moving his way down the path. Once or twice, Steve’s hand flies out to catch Eddie from falling on his face. But other then that they eventually make it to the guys van. Where Steve moves hopping up into the passenger side.

Nearly jumping right back out when a group of people yell “surprise!” At him. His hands shake in his lap a bit as he gathers himself. Looking confused as he looks at all of them curiously. No wonder Eddie seemed like he had been lying. Because he was.

“We wanted to surprise you.” El says with a smile. “Know its been a while since you’ve left the house, and we all know you loved swimming so we wanted to take you to the quarry.” She rambles out. Face a bit pink, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that she was the one that arranged this.

Eddies sitting in the drivers side, key in the ignition with a fond smile. Before his face contorts up and he’s turning around and yelling. “Hey shit face, yeah you Henderson. If you’re eating my last can or Pringle’s I’ll make sure to shove your head up your ass so far that no one’s going to be able to reach that far to pull you out.“ Steve’s head turns back looking at the boy who’s hand was currently stuck in the can of Pringles. Making a oopsie face.

***

It doesn’t take long for them to get to the lake. The kids were already in swim suits and throwing themselves in the water. Eddie is a bit hesitant, and so is Steve who doesn’t want to pull his shirt off. Though there seems to be more of a reason to Eddie who looks at the water a bit haunted. Steve recognizes that look. He looks at malls like that now.

“Hey everything okay?” He asks curiously. Moving to dip his toes in the water. Pants rolled up to his ankles.

“Yeah.. it’s just. When everything went down one of the gates was - well under the lake. Dustin called it water gate.” Eddie laughs a little towards the end. “And well… I’m not the best swimmer but I wasn’t going to force Robin or Nancy to go down there. And shit face Henderson decided he was going to force his way onto the boat. And I got tugged down. “ he explains. He doesn’t seem to really be there. His voice is off somewhere else.

Steve hesitates before he presses a hand on the others shoulder. “You don’t have to go in you know. I’m not.” He says softly.Eddies looking at him confused before Steve clarifies. “My- well my wounds haven’t fully healed. And if I let any of my stitches touch the water then I’m fucked.” He laughs.

Eddie grins as he carefully pulls up his shirt revealing a bandage around his middle. Steve could only imagine what it was hiding. Steve grins as he moves and lifts his own up. He was no longer in the bandage state, his side just had a huge gash. Eddies eyes go wide. He’s about to say something but one of the kids yell at them to join. Both declining, showing their wounds at the same time. Steve doesn’t even process that Eddie’s side was bandages heavily on the same spot as his. Just on the opposite side of his body, closer to Steve with the way he stood.

Silence falls over them again. Neither of them knowing what to say. “You know you’re nothing like how I remember you being.” Eddies voice echos through the night. Staying hushed under the kids screaming.

“Oh- yeah. When you nearly die numerous times you kind of figure that it’s time to stop being a douche.” Steve laughs gently. “And there’s more important things then social heirchy.”

“I- I wished I learned that sooner.” Eddie admits as he looks awkward again.

“What do you mean- you were like. All fuck society norms and shit.” Steve laughs gently.

“Well- doesn’t mean I still wasn’t a twat about jocks and shit.” Eddie chuckles bitterly. “You know I was at the mall the night it caught fire or whatever. I was in the movie theaters. And I seen you. Right before you died. Your face looked like it was smashed into bricks, you were laughing at whatever Doc had said. Then when you stumbled out, obviously not okay. I thought you were fine so I didn’t make a fuss out of it. But I know if you weren’t some Jock from the high-school I would have checked to make sure you were okay. ” Eddie rambles out a bit. “And god did I feel guilty when I seen your name on the list of people who died that night.” Tears are rolling down his face. Steve tries to interject but he doesn’t get a chance to as the other starts to talk again.

“You know Henderson worships the ground you walk dude? “ Eddie tilts his head to look at him. Wide eyed, as he doesn’t hide a single emotion. “And god, I just. I got so jealous that this kid. This amazing kid who reminded me of myself when I was his age. Worshiped someone who used to look down on kids like us. And I was just- an entire asshole. The poor guy was still mourning you and confiding in me about how much of a nice guy you were, and I just sat there listened, and didn’t believe a god damn word he said. Here I thought he was just coming up with stories about a dead kid. And instead I was the asshole that I declared war against in high-school. It was no is fucked up.” Eddie eyes are watering more. Hands shaking as he pulls a cig out, lighting it soon after.

Steve just stands there and listens. That’s really all he could do. He takes a shaky breath as he pauses looking out at the kids in the water. “We are all just kids you know. We aren’t… we aren’t made to to handle all of this shit normally. If there even is a normal. Just know I don’t hold it against you, neither does Dustin. If you ever need to rant more about it I’m here.” Steve smiles sincerely. Watching as Eddie nods dumbly.

“You know, you’re the first one to act like this isn’t all normal. The kids.. god the kids were great when everything was happening. Robin was freaking out but she knew what she was doing. Doing things I can’t even imagine doing. I’m sure you know how it is.” Eddie rambles out.

Steve nods his head in understanding, “trust me… none of us are normal.” He laughs gently. “You’re relatively new, you’ll catch signs of things they do when others don’t.”

“Like how you flinch whenever anyone raises their voice?” Eddie asks curiously.

“Yeah.. yeah exactly that.” Steve answers softly. Letting the silence take over the both of them. Unaware that he had been that obvious.

Oh my god, thank you to everyone who has been supporting me throughout this. Especially for the comments. Those I have found are hard to come by and every single one has been making my day. I haven’t gotten a chance to respond yet, but I love every single one. (So don’t be ashamed to freak out in the comments. The long paragraphs are amazing. I just haven’t gotten a chance to respond) I have never gotten this much support for something I’ve written ever.

Next thing, I would put this on ao3 but I kind of wrote them straight to tumblr and it would take me forever to copy and paste each individual paragraph on there. I’m already putting a lot of time writing the tag list and writing it itself so for now this Is a tumblr exclusive. (Though I know in the future I’m probably going to do a rewrite and include everything that I wanted to, but have been to exhausted to write out)

Like I can’t express how thankful I have been for the support. I’ve gained close to a hundred followers in two days and I love that but it’s crazy to me that that many people liked my work.

Though I will be lurking in the comments tonight, ;) so I’ll probably respond the best I can!

Tag list;

@totallynotagoraphobic @flustratedcas @shunna @spookednsaucy @steddie-as-they-go @estrellami-1 @xxbottlecapx @gregre369 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thing-a-ling @radioactiveartz @bestwifehaver @idkwwhatimmdoiing @goodolefashionedloverboi @bringmethelow @thescribblerdragon @starman-jpg @lilaclilyroses @resident-gay-bitch @wolfscreations @adhdsummer @victor-thee-corvid @happymediummm @decadentworld @sidebarre @foundintheshallows @jamieweasley13 @yellowdevilkitten @catlovesfandoms @gryffindorsareidiots @thephantomhood @vampireinthesun @awkwardgravity1 @itsall-taken @gezell-igg @chaoskiro @daeb820 @liketheocean @croatoan-like-its-hot @malicia62 @thebrazilianatheist @anaibis @evix-syne666 @an-deeznutz @yikes-a-bee @0o-queendean-o0 @alyelf @starlight-archer @weirdandabsurd42 @zerokrox-blog @lolawonsstuff @mightbeasleep @michael-the-angelo

(If you see your user in the tag and it didn’t tag you let me know and we can try figuring it out in the comments)

[genesis-quoi]

Everyone please please please do yourself a favor and check out @suzienightsky's Phantom Ruby Illusion Tails AU, I am literally gnawing on the walls it's so good. This recent comic crumpled my brain like a soda can so enjoy this unhinged piece based off of it and its dialogue. ^.^

If you get there before I do, comin for to carry me home~

Stillness shatters against the soothing warble of an old friend.

Shards of sound so desperately sought after skewer him before he thinks better of opening his eyes, and soon after they burn in the blue crackling of electricity that blurs away at the outer corners of his vision like the stars he hadn’t seen in months. 

He wants to wipe his eyes but can’t, for the fear of bringing his electrified restraints close to his face again, of which the last attempt had him seeing things that weren’t there, and left him forever wondering if he’d ever be able to trust them like he once did.  

Tell all our friends I’m comin too~

He ends up weeping openly. This is a voice he trusts, even as everything else fails him. 

“Tails!” He cried, but it’s hollow and hoarse and pathetic how little he had to say now that his days and nights blurred together in the miserable swirl of longing. 

“T-Tails-!” 

His pleas were underscored by the droning buzz of electricity that echoed off the metal and a melody so familiar that everything else gets carried away easily in the gentle fondness that came with it, in and out of the bars of his cell like the call of home. 

A long forgotten and bespoke spark ignites within him, brought to life by Tails’ apparent easiness, in spite of the situation. 

He remembers teaching him that song what felt like a lifetime ago…back when he was barely taller than enough than his legs that he refused to let go of. 

It was a tad silly, he thought in retrospect, though Tails took to it so long as he kept his own promises to be back before the tune was finished. 

As they grew, it fell by the wayside for quite a bit, though the assurances it was meant to symbolize lived on in the ways they always tried to protect each other from situations like these. 

He really shouldn’t be so happy that Tails is putting himself in danger like this, but hearing his voice after nothing but the thrum of machinery and his own screaming was a balm on his aching heart. 

It’s him-it was really-

“Comin for carry me home~”

A silhouette approaches the bars from the darkness, and as it does so, he notices that it glows with that same loathsome tint he can’t escape even in sleep-

It’s just another trick. 

Another illusion meant to torment him-

“Here you are!” It called to him, though he doesn’t turn around. Maybe it will just go away on its own. 

“You were right, you know…things are a lot less scary now.” 

It hums the rest of the chorus sweetly, oblivious to the way each note pulverizes him and he feels mangled like he’s gotten caught within the mundane backdrop of pistons and gears. 

“Who sent you this time?” He snaps before long, and the last note out of its lips sours and shrivels into silence. 

Nevertheless, with a deep sigh that sounded more like static off an old TV than a transfer of air, its next words are no less chipper. 

“You did…didn’t you? You wanted me here-”

“I don’t want ‘you’ here. I want YOU you-the real you-!”

“Sonic, don’t you recognize me? I’m sorry I took so long…really! I tried, honest…but you promised we’d be friends no matter what…didn’t you?” 

Its voice quavers in that heartbreakingly agonizing way it used to, back when he would have to field this question at least twice a day. 

He can’t help himself.

Against his better judgment, he looks up and stares into the slightly damp eyes of the doppelganger parading around in his little brother’s skin, as if it had the audacity to be upset when it couldn’t even be bothered enough to try to be someone he missed.

“It’s me…you still love me, right?”  

The pounding in his head grows as his mind splits itself apart. For once he wondered if it would all stop hurting so much if he just went along with it and gave in because he’s been here eight lifetimes as far as he knows. One of them might as well have a shred of comfort in it, even if he knows it’s all that’s left. 

But the other, more stubborn part angrily refuses to give up, because if he never gets out of here he’d at least have done right by his real little brother, who’s out there somewhere probably moving mountains for him.  

Tails is a fighter. They should be arguing right now about things they already know are implicit, just to hear it out loud again how much they meant to each other. It wasn’t like Tails to cave, to crumble, he just wasn’t that docile toddler anymore. 

And yet…

“If it’s you…the real you…you’d’ve sprung me out of this place already.”

He glares at the faded red phantom of his brother with all the malice he can muster, and while its grin never falters, the rest of its form seems to slowly crack around it.

“What if,” a line splits directly down and fractures from its ear to an eye, “the only way we could be together was if i joined you?”

“No!” 

He tried to be intimidating, but as if his subconscious thought it looked enough like Tails to warrant the innate softening being around him usually did, it sounded less like a demand and more like a blatant plea to get him to stop eating stuff off the ground.

“You’re not real! You aren’t real! You’re just like the rest of them, just go back to where you came from and leave me alone!”

That was supposed to have been the end of it. Maybe he’d disappear after calling him pathetic, or maybe Infinite would appear again, least likely Eggman strolling by to gloat despite his obvious failure to trick him this time…

But nothing happens.

Another growing crack creeps up one of its tails and it looked pained as it watched, cradling it in its hands in a futile attempt to stop it.

“You always said it didn’t matter what I looked like.” While the words are despondent, there’s definitely an off-putting hint of anger buried within it that captures his attention.

“But now that I’m like this…?” It stopped, suddenly trying to hide all the cracks that marred his…its little body like scars in that way that was too uncanny to be replicated-

“I used to think maybe you were just like the rest of them too, y’know. You were supposed to prove me wrong.”

There’s years of pain and sadness compressed into his admission that terrifies him-makes him think that maybe he does have it wrong and Tails is really here-that maybe he’s had unspeakable things done to him too and he’s only making it worse by turning his brother away just because he’s also had parts of himself taken away that would’ve made the choice easier. 

“Wait, Tails-!” He shouted, far too late. It’s gone again, and it’s all his fault he’s got nothing but the shadows to talk to now.

Until he turned back around.

“Hi Sonic!” 

He nearly falls backwards onto the metal in surprise when he hears the high-pitched bleating of a dusty old computer struggling to start up.

“Tails…?”

The kid is behind him now. Inside his cell. 

“Yes?”

And while he should be irritated at having allowed himself to be even momentarily swayed, it-he…still looked far too similar to his little brother to the effect that he doesn’t have the heart or the energy for this anymore. 

“You’re…not really him…” He tried gently, deflated.  

If he was lucky, the phantom would take after the real Tails and understand his approach.

His brother could take his licks and a bomb to the face with pride and come out of it no worse for wear, only to crumble away into nothing every single time his own careful fingers would softly brush against his wounds.

“What do you mean?” The phantom illusion of Tails beams and it stands in stark, unsettling contrast to the darkness that surrounds them, like he doesn’t understand and doesn’t want to. 

“Of course I’m him!”

He appears to be completely indifferent to the way his voice distorts around the lie. 

“I missed you more than anything-!” The phantom grabs at his hands and the electric cuffs sear into his skin at the agitation the static brings.

It felt like pins and needles everywhere else, and not in a normal way he gets to laugh it off when it’s convenient. 

It’s chilling. And terrifying in a way he can’t explain.

“Sonic…?” Tails seems hurt that he pulled away, and tries toward him a second time as if to redeem himself. “It’s me…remember…? It’s okay to be scared, but…it’s just me…”

“No…” His heart races and he can’t hear himself thinking…normally this wouldn’t be a problem for him if he could just get away but there’s nowhere to run and he can’t, even if there was-

“It’s just me…let me help you-”

The phantom bounds towards him with outstretched arms and the world starts to close in and everything bleeds red…everything, from the walls to the bars to the stars that aren’t there to the streaks running down the phantom’s cheeks-

“Please…?” 

He tries to steady himself on the metal that jutted from the wall, but as soon as he sits he’s crashed into atop the makeshift bed and what felt like a current of lightning erupts through his entire body as the illusion engulfs him in an embrace that’s something akin to running face first into an electric fence. 

His thoughts dissolve quickly into a loud screaming chorus of pain and discomfort as the phantom sensation of his little brother burrowing into him continues. 

Much as it hurts he missed it so much he’d burn forever if it meant he never forgot what it was like.

The illusion’s words become little more than a steady thrum that reverberate through him and remind him that he’s still alive. 

“You’d never replace me, right? You promised you’d stay, always. I’m here now. Everything is going to be okay again…” 

He doesn’t remember losing consciousness, yet he comes to so pleasantly he’d been momentarily thankful that it was all a dream.

But the only thing that illuminates his thoughts in the darkness is a persistent glow, reflections of things that were never there lending credence to his loneliness…

And a song he knew all the words to, once. 

Sometimes I’m up, sometimes I’m down~

The phantom illusion kicks his small legs off the side of the bunk to keep time, smiling broadly in a way that made him queasy when he’d noticed he was alert again.

Comin for to carry me home~

His song punctuates itself midway through with a series of light-hearted giggles as if they were around a campfire, either unaware or unbothered completely by the sight of the oppressive prison they were confined to. 

“I waited for you!”  

There’s a deep gouge in his face, just below one of his cheeks that keeps him from grinning any wider. 

“...why…?” It’s all his addled mind can produce. 

Tails’ eyes flitted to the ceiling, almost as if wistful despite the grimy nothingness of the view he’d picked over time and time again out of boredom.

“You’re gonna be here forever,” he nearly whispers, and despite the severity of the statement it’s laden with no emotion whatsoever, “that’s why I’m here…to keep you company.”

The phantom of his little brother continues to hum softly as he stares, admiring the cracks in the darkened corners of the cell. 

Now he’s more than annoyed…he’s scared beyond anything that his nightmares were finally becoming reality the less defined reality became. 

He’d watched Tails die too many times for this to be the new normal. 

Who’s idea was this? It’s far too ‘potentially altruistic’ a plan to have been Eggman’s design, and Infinite usually tormented him in other ways…maybe he’s finally lost it in here. 

While he certainly doesn’t plan on being here forever, he absolutely prefers the company over nothing, though not necessarily all of his alternatives. 

For all he knows, it’s already been forever. 

And if this is all that’s left, then…

Maybe he would hang onto home just a little longer.