#they would fight to the death and little apple would *win*

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Peeped the horrors

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[delusionsofgrandeur13]

ex boyfriend!dick grayson is distraught.

it’s been two weeks, three days, ten hours, and seven minutes since the two of you broke up. not that anyone is counting.

his days are spent with him walking around like a zombie.

batman has to practically yell into the comms link to even get a reply during patrol. dick’s not even sure he’s been putting his suit on properly. two nights ago he only went out with one escrima stick. he almost lost a fight with some goons, and one of them asked him if he had a death wish. he went home bruised, his lip bloodied, wondering if maybe he did have a death wish.

he tried going out to the store. he was out of shaving cream and eggs. dick made it as far as the produce section. he had a staring contest with the apples for ten minutes, and left without buying anything.

the first week he kept wearing hats. seeing his hair in the mirror practically made his eye twitch with the memory of you running your hands through it. he could almost hear you cooing over how nice it looks long.

“dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick you look so—”

he cuts it a week later, sick of his brothers making fun of him for the hats and sick of your voice in his ear.

he barely touches his hair now, his hands nothing compared to the way yours felt on his scalp. almost every other night he cries in the shower, thinking about the way your eyes would flash when you’d offer to wash his hair for him. you’d always bite your lip in this cute way when you slicked all his hair back, the soap fluffy in your hands. you’d wiggle your eyebrows and call him distinguished, and then pull it up into a mohawk and tell him to call up jason and ask to join the outlaws. a few nights ago he made the mistake of looking at your razor, still on the shower caddy. he cried so hard his head hurt the next morning like he’d had a hangover.

his family stops whispering when he enters rooms, their worry and concern growing more obvious by the day. alfred won’t stop feeding him. bruce keeps looking him over, his eyebrows furrowed. jason left at least four self help books on his coffee table and in his cubby in the batcave. tim took over all of the video surveillance batman had assigned him, waving him away when dick tried to insist it was okay, and that he could do it. steph wouldn’t stop high fiving him? cass hugged him, at least three times. wally tried to get him to go out, but dick drank one beer and left, walking home in the pouring rain like he was in a music video. wally took the hint, but started texting him good morning, every day. even damian stopped picking on him, instead asking to spar just so dick would have something else to think about. it didn’t work, obviously, but he’d mussed damian’s hair, giving him a wan smile on the way out of the practice room. he’d left immediately after.

he spent the rest of the day at home thinking about how he’d always let you win when the two of you would play wrestle. you had this expression you’d make right before, where your eyes would squint a little and the corner of your mouth would turn up. the whole time you’d dated, dick was never able to figure out if it was because you were about to play fight or fuck. he loved it.

his nights are full of tossing and turning.

he spent the first week not washing his sheets, sleeping face down on your side of the bed. the second week he washed his sheets every night, trying to rid his nose of the phantom smell of you. the pillowcase you used is shoved deep into his linen cabinet. he now sleeps on the couch. he had to wash all of his t shirts too, the ones you’d steal to wear to bed with nothing under. he rummaged through his dresser in his old room in Wayne Manor hoping to find ones to wear that didn’t smell like you. ones that didn’t make him think of you pulling them off in the middle of the night, to then sink down onto his cock. you’d toss it onto the ground while you straddled him, smiling down at him.

he couldn’t sit and watch tv without thinking of all the times he’d gone down on you on the couch.

couldn’t brush his teeth without seeing the last time he’d bent you over the sink, thrusting into you while your breath fogged the bathroom mirror.

he couldn’t go out to eat at any of the restaurants by his apartment without seeing the two of you at a table, you stealing one of his fries or swapping sandwiches to try the other’s order.

he still couldn’t go to the little family-owned grocery store, not when the old couple that ran it knew both of you by name.

couldn’t look at his keys without seeing the keychains you’d bought him.

his every waking moment was spent with thinking of you, all you, always you.

you were everywhere,

he thought about how you’d beamed when he’d first asked you out, your eyes shining when you’d nodded yes.

how surprised you’d looked when he finally told you he was nightwing, and how you made him pinky swear to be careful.

he couldn’t appreciate enough how you had always been gracious when he’d show up late to dates, bruce always needing his help with something or other.

he thought of the way you’d looked washing the dishes, up to your elbows in suds when he’d roll in from the window, coming up behind you to kiss you and push you over to the couch while he’d finished the dishes, still in his nightwing suit.

what you’d looked like when you opened the promise ring he got you, and showed you his matching one. you’d both gotten teary eyed then.

the way you tried to hide the fact you’d been crying when he came home from patrol one night.

when your expression would change after he’d tell you he had to miss a family dinner at your mom’s house. you thought he wouldn’t notice but c’mon, he was trained by batman.

how your face had crumpled like his heart did when he had realized what he needed to do. when he had said he loved you more than anything, but knew that you deserved to be treated better, and that he couldn’t give you that right now. couldn’t give you all of his time like he wanted to.

you’d accepted it, nodding while tears slipped down your cheeks silently, walking out of his apartment to go stay at your mom’s house.

it’d been two weeks, three days, ten hours, and seven minutes, yet dick hadn’t accepted it. and your toothbrush was still next to his. so he didn’t think you’d really accepted it either.

but yet, you were now nowhere.

[adaptacy]

You mind writing a little Johnny Slaughter thing where the reader is southern, too? Not from Texas, but maybe from a whole nother state like Louisiana or Mississippi. Like, *really* southern- thick drawl, sassy attitude n everything. If it's not too much to ask, could the reader first start out as a victim? But the thing is, they're not really one to mess with. They're witty, quick, and honestly a bit of an asshole. They're worried about themselves- going as far as to sacrifice the other survivors to ensure their own survival. Maybe even off one themselves, quickly realizing that they like killing just as much as the rest of the family. Love ur work! (Also, have you heard about the new Nancy leaks? I'm so excited to see her, you have no idea.)

OMG OFC WAIT THIS IS GONNA BE SO FUN!!

i love requests ongogngrij

also YES!! I love her so much!! i saw someone (i think it was creepling's post) about what Nancy would think about johnny getting a soft spot for someone and oh god the brain juice started flowing with that. i think her and johnny will def be my mains bcs ive been dying for another female family member that isnt sissy (no hate to sissy, but i tried her and she just wasnt as fun as johnny)

anyways anyways anyways, here you go! this is gonna be fluff, but if you want an nsfw part lmk and i can make that work ;) <333 hope you enjoy!!

this is gonna be kinda cheesy and cute aside from the death (whoops) but if i do an nsfw it'll be more serious. i just thought this would be a good opportunity to write a jaw-dropped johnny who's like "oh shit i think im in love"

"The hell you wantin' now?!" You snarled, cracking your neck as you squared off with a man nearly twice your size. He was used to this kind of fighting back, but there was something about your volume, your genuine anger that was new to him. It was intriguing. He almost wanted to study your brain before he ate it.

"All that, and you still got caught, sweetpea. Ain't that quite the case of karma?" Johnny chuckled, casually spinning his blade in his hand. Beneath his feet was a brunette boy, far too bloodied to be anywhere near alive. You didn't know him, didn't care about him, and you were far more concerned with your own well-being than the safety of some stranger.

"Don't tell me yer gettin' cocky now, pretty boy?" You laughed. You'd wrestled unruly gators twice his size, you could manage this egotistical megalomaniac. Hell, you didn't win a championship in bull-riding for sweet talking it.

"Ain't you a little too pretty to be talkin' so much?" Johnny pouted, sulking closer with his head tilted.

"Ain't you a little too muscular to be flirtin' with yer food?" You rolled your eyes, gripping the kitchen knife tighter in your hand. He'd been so preoccupied with the random teenagers to keep an eye on you, exactly as you'd planned. While they were playing duck duck goose in the rickety basement, you'd been granted easy access to the family house. And with it, the kitchen. And with that, the knives.

Your knife was much larger than his, and it made up for the size difference between your bodies. You knew for a fact he was underestimating you, most people did. They thought you were all bark and no bite, but your bark was only really half your bite.

"I've made pie with apples mer fearsome than you," you teased. The man furrowed his eyebrows, seeming a little stung by your remark.

"The hell you from, anyways?" He shook his head, still not letting his guard down, but he seemed to be a little less on the offense.

"Louisiana, born 'n raised. Ain't you able to tell? Or you too dumb for that?"

"Drop the damn knife," Johnny demanded, and you couldn't help but laugh. Literally laugh. Not just giggle, not just chuckle, not just scoff- full-on laugh at his attempt.

"Or what? You gon' stab me with that there lil butterfly blade?" You mused, waving a hand in the air. "I'd like to see you try," you added, your tone a little lower.

Johnny opened his mouth to reply, but there was a voice from behind him, instead. "You-- You killed them! You killed all of them!" A female yelled, sounding hurt and angry. Both of you paused your bickering to turn towards an angry girl, a small pointy bone in her hand. "You killed my sister!"

Johnny scoffed, looking the girl up and down. You eased up as well, watching the interaction. "Ain't you see we was talkin'? Could'a waited your darn turn, missy," you grumbled, finding the interruption rather rude. The girl turned to you, her eyes wide.

"You-- You're that bitch at the bar! You gave my friend a concussion!" She accused, and you scoffed.

"Now, I would neva-- Oh, oh, she's yer friend? Well ain't that right rich! Small world, ain't it?" You laughed, reminiscing on the bar fight you'd gotten into after some city boy claimed he could take more rye whiskey than you. You were practically raised- hell, made out of whiskey. You had to show him up, obviously. It wasn't your fault his little girlfriend couldn't handle him losing.

It seemed as if the girl couldn't choose between who to attack, but when she finally did make up her mind, you found yourself in the hot seat. You assumed it was because she was more confident taking down you than she was taking down the man, but it was merely another case of underestimation. She swung the bone shiv towards you, and although Johnny stepped forward to do something, you had it handled.

You were the last woman who needed a man to rescue her. 'Specially against a pipsqueak like this chick was. As she rushed forward, you drove the kitchen knife directly into the girls gut. You weren't sure what possessed her to make such a foolish move as to charge at a woman with a knife, but it made for an easy means of defense. The brunette gurgled as blood splattered onto your mouth, hitting your cheek as she fell over your arm, eventually collapsing.

You twisted the knife out of the girls gut, reaching up and wiping the blood off of your cheek-- or, trying to, anyways, but you only really managed to smear it on your face. You scoffed in irritation, wiping the blood off on your shirt, and doing the same with the knife. After all, you didn't want to risk damaging the blade from the blood. It seemed like a good quality vegetable slicer.

With a simple clearing of your throat, you shook the girl off of your leg, looking back at your opponent. He was frozen in place, his eyebrows furrowed and his face contorted in a mix of confusion and disgust. "Now, where was we at? Them city girls just ain't got no manners. Momma neva raised 'em right," you complained, giving the kitchen knife a once-over before looking back at Johnny.

He blinked, remaining silent.

"You still home, or you gone out to get groceries?" You frowned, confused as to why he wasn't responding. You snapped your fingers and swung your weight onto one leg, placing your free hand on your hip. "Mister muscles? You missin' yer brain?"

"Who are you?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I was merely defendin' myself. Ain't nuthin' special 'bout it. Now, where's we at? You still wanna go, pretty boy?"

Johnny licked his lips, pulling his head back. He tucked his knife into his pocket, and a small smile spread over his face. "You wanna go out sometime?"

"Kidnappin' and threatenin' a woman ain't no way to get 'em in yer bed," you scolded, tilting your head. "I know yer mama's taught you better'n that. Ain't she?"

"You like rye whiskey?"

You smirked. "That's more like it. Count me in."

[gretavangroupie]

Valor (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Jake x Reader, Daniel x Reader

Word Count: 13.4k

Warnings: Cursin', Smokin', Drinkin', Allusions to Drug Use. Angst: Struggle and Poverty, Emotional Manipulation, Abandonment, Jealousy, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons, Fighting, Blood, Mentions of Death, Mention of Suicide, Suicidal Actions, Crying, Heavy Angst, Allusions to Shady Activities, Coercion, Gambling, Betting. Smut: Kissing, Heavy Petting, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Penetrative Sex.

Valor Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify

A new project in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

HER POV

“I want details.” You demanded, determined to understand at least why they were keeping you so involved. 

They both gave you almost the exact same look, half-agitated and half-understanding they had to at least give you something. Jake cleared his throat first. 

“My dad…passed away seven years ago, and when he did, he left behind more than this shop.” Jake drew on his cigarette, readjusting in his seat as he talked. “Ace had a bad gambling problem, so bad that it put him in more debt and more depression than I really ever knew about. He used to hold these poker games for fun, until he started losin’ money, and started making more enemies than he did friends. Shit started to go south really quick. Honestly, it was a lot worse then, than it is now. The law was involved, dirty cops were playin’ cards one night and harassing my dad the next, drifters started to come around and threaten him while he was working…it was an overall unsafe environment for me and Danny.” He went on. 

“Wait.” You interrupted, trying to grasp everything. “Danny, you were always here?”

He nodded. “Yup, I uh, I started off in foster care, but…no one ever wanted to keep me. I was always getting into trouble and fightin’ in school… Jake was my best friend. I stayed here more than I stayed at home…most of the time my foster parents never even knew where I was. But Ace took care of me, when he could hardly even take care of Jake. So one day, it was Thanksgiving, I think. I just…never left. I was still just a kid. Started watching every move Ace made mechanicin’. Taught myself how to fix shit.” He ended the story with a harsh swallow. You knew that was something he didn’t share often. 

You couldn’t help but smile, realizing a little bit more how close these two actually really were. Raised as brothers. 

“So anyway, after my dad died, I was left with all this shit…all the money he owed to people fell into my lap. Not to mention all the other bullshit…the bills, the overdue payments, taxes…he was drowning then, and we’re drowning now.”

“And Teddy, he’s been playing cards here since I can remember.” Danny explained. 

“Teddy…” you repeated. 

“Yeah. He’s the one that called yesterday, he arranges the games. My dad owed him so much money, we’re still paying it back. We have to listen to him when he calls, we don’t have a choice. Every time we have a game and either of us wins, we give him the money. Right off the bat. It’s fuckin' horrible.”

“Well how long until he’s paid off?” You asked. 

“We’ve barely even made a dent, unfortunately.” Jake said, tamping his cigarette out on the floor between his boots. “It’s rare that either of us win.”

“Okay, well things are making a little more sense, I guess…” you could tell they were holding back on all the details, probably sparing you from knowing too much at one time. “So where do I come in, why are you hiding me?”

Jake took a deep breath, and leaned his elbows down on his knees, looking you directly in the eyes.  “You’re collateral. You’re fresh meat. They know that if…they can get to you, they can use you.” 

You felt your stomach drop to the floor. “Use me for what?”

Jake cocked an eyebrow. “To get to me.”

You looked back at Jake, staring each other down as you let it sink in. To get to me… You shook your head. “But that…doesn’t make any sense. Why would they think I mattered to you, at all?” 

You watched a tiny grin form on both of their faces. “They know we’re protective. They know you’ve been hanging around us…and honestly, I bet they know you have money.” Danny chimed in. “Y/N, how much are you payin’ for your motel room?”

“Uh, thirty-five a night, why?” You answered. 

“Are you fuckin' kidding me?!” Jake sat back in his seat as he and Danny exchanged knowing looks of ‘thought so.’

“Wanda.” Danny said, his voice seething. 

“I thought it was steep, but she didn’t give me a choice in the room, said it was all she had—”

“I bet she watched you pull your cold hard cash from your wallet, too, didn’t she?” Danny asked. “Watched you count it out?”

“Y-yeah…so?”

“So,” Jake tried to explain. “Wanda is friends with Teddy’s crew. Christ…She fuckin' told them you had money…they sent Tanya down here to get concrete evidence you were with us…that’s why he called the poker game. They want your money, Y/N. On top of our money. And they know that they can get paid a whole lot quicker if they get a hold of you…they know we would pay up if it was you on the line…”

Your eyes were stuck open at all of the information, trying to soak everything in as it was fed to you. 

“Me on the line…so, so you’re saying they might try to…to kidnap me? Hold me for ransom or something?” You could hardly get the words out. 

Danny nodded slowly while Jake massaged his palms. “Or worse.”

“Worse? What the fuck could be worse?!” You yelled, leaning off of the countertop. Danny stood from the chair, walking over to calm the storm he knew was brewing inside you. You felt him wrap his arms slowly around your neck, in a completely non-sexual way, knowing that if you needed to feel anything right now, it was comfort. 

“We don’t intend on letting you find out. And we don’t intend on giving them the satisfaction of winning like that.” He said, his voice laced with promise. You opened your eyes and peered over Danny’s shoulder, locking eyes with Jake as he nodded his head in agreement. 

“I’ve only been here for like two days, guys…you don’t owe me anything, I just want to get the hell out of here, I never wanted to bring all this trouble…” you felt like you were on the verge of tears, feeling guilty that you inadvertently made their situation worse. 

“You didn’t bring any trouble, Y/N. They’re bad men with bad reputations and shit lives. Teddy’s going to die wanting to bring me strife. It’s like he gets off on the shit…” Jake said, his voice trailing off as he looked at the wall behind you. Danny let go of your shoulders. 

“What, Jake? What is it?” His eyes were glued to the calendar that hung on the wall behind you. 

“Nothing. Today Saturday?” His face had gone completely white, stark as the smoke that bellowed from his cigarette. 

“Yeah, it is…” Danny took your hands in his. “I know it’s fucked, Y/N. It’s so fucked. And I’m so sorry you got dragged into this mess. I know you want to leave, but don’t you agree that the best place for you right now is with us? We can protect you…we know how their minds work…I’d feel so much better if you just, didn’t go back to the motel…”

He was pleading with you, and honestly at this point, you’d be terrified to be alone in that motel after learning everything you learned tonight, especially that Wanda had been snitching on your every fucking move. Bitch. 

You nodded, agreeing with Danny. As pissed off, insulted, and sick as it made you, you felt like you had no choice but to agree. “Alright. If it’s for my safety…I’ll stay here. But I’m not going to like it.” You were going to love it, as fucked as it was. “But honestly, how long? You’ve already been paying him off for 7 years…”

“Just until we figure something out. Until we fix your car, then you can disappear and let the wind carry you away, straight to Atlanta.” Danny answered with a true and genuine frown. He didn’t want you to leave. 

“Okay. But I have a couple conditions.”

They both looked at you with puzzled expressions. “You clean your disgusting, repulsive bathroom, and you both wash your sheets. Please. For the love of god.”

Sweet, sexy laughs escaped them both as they conceded, relaxing back in their chairs. “Yeah, okay. Point taken.” Danny said, holding his hand out to shake yours. “It’s a deal, Miss Thing.”

“Good. Thank you. I’ll even make dinner tonight, for your troubles.” You offered, knowing there wasn’t much in the cabinets, but you were confident you could whip something up. 

Jake stood from his chair, still looking a little pekid from whatever he noticed about the calendar earlier. He held his hand out to shake yours, too. “One clean bathroom, coming up.”

You began searching through the cabinets and refrigerator, finding a few potatoes and some bologna. Hmm, when all else fails, fry it. 

You pulled some oil from the cabinet, and laid out six pieces of the almost-expired bread hidden away on the counter. This will have to do. 

You’d come into this shop two and a half days ago, feeling uneasy, anxious, and unsure…and now you sat here with two of your oldest classmates as they transformed their home and business into a fortress for you to stay in, using themselves as a protective shield from the bad guys who were vying for you. 

But it didn’t feel wrong staying with Danny…you liked him. You liked him a lot. And with Jake…you felt…drawn to him. Both of them. But there was something about Danny’s touch that made you crave him; him leaving you hanging in the motel room earlier was enough to make you so sexually frustrated that you resented him for a second. 

The image of him lying on top of you under the covers was all you could think about, and you were absolutely dying to get him back in bed. The way his long, dark locks laid across his shoulders and reached all the way down to past the middle of his back, his defined features and strong jawline…the way his nose scrunched up when he smiled… all of it was stuck in your brain, burning little images that replayed over and over. 

He felt different than Peter, that much you could tell even after just the brief encounter you’d had. Like he would let you be in charge instead of only trying to appease his every little fantasy. 

And his lips on yours? Like the buzzing end of an electric wire, you could physically feel them still when he parted from you. The way his tongue felt in your mouth, his hands gripping your hips… yeah. It was decided. You wouldn’t be joining Jake in his bed again tonight. 

—

JAKE POV

The smell was familiar. One you recognized deep down in your bones. A smell that transported you back in time. You pulled your sheets from the washing machine, the lid black and dirty which was kind of ironic. You tossed them into the dryer, starting it up as the smell lured you into the kitchen. You can’t remember the last time someone that wasn’t you made a meal in this kitchen. 

You wiped your bleach-scented hands across your pants, the smell of lemon bathroom cleaner and Comet stuck in your nose. You realized your hands were cleaner than they’d been in probably years, after scrubbing away at the black ring in the bathtub. You could actually see the whiteness of your fingernails. 

As you rested your hands on a kitchen chair, you peered over to the stove watching Y/N finish frying up a pan of diced potatoes. Your stomach growled and your mouth watered as you watched her, completely unknowing you were standing behind her. 

Danny steps out of the hallway and into the kitchen, his voice startling both of you. “Damn, it smells good in here. I’m starving.” He walks up behind Y/N, peeking over her shoulder as his hand squeezes her hip. He turns to grab a few paper plates, placing them on the counter for her before taking a seat in the old wooden chair. 

You swung around and sat yourself in your own chair, once again letting your eyes drift over to the calendar on the wall. Seven years today. Seven years, Ace. You lean on your fist, twirling the worn metal zippo between your fingers. Rubbing your thumb over the engravings, hand carved by the man himself. It was all you really had left of him, taking it from his pocket that day, giving it a home in yours ever since. Your heart sank the more you thought about it, which is why you didn’t ever let yourself. You always did everything in your power to forget this day, never give it the chance to crush you like this, but this year, lucky number seven… It got you. 

“Alright, it’s ready!” she said, spinning around with two paper plates filled with fried potatoes and fried bologna sandwiches. That was it. That was the smell. Fried bologna. Your dad’s fucking favorite. Of course, today of all days. 

“Shit this looks good, haven't had fried bologna in forever!” Danny says, grabbing the sandwich and taking a bite. She grabs her own plate and sits between the two of you, stabbing her fork into a potato as you just stare down at the plate in front of you. You’re stuck. Frozen. Your stomach telling you to eat but your mind suddenly rushing with memories you’d pushed down for years. It hurt. They hurt.

Not wanting to draw attention to yourself you picked up the sandwich, and held it to your mouth, slowly taking a bite as Y/N and Danny chatted about nothing. You wished you could turn off the instant replay in your mind of the last time you sat at this table eating with your dad. It hit you like a ton of bricks that now felt as if they settled in the pit of your stomach. 

The thing about Ace though, was that he never really told you how to live your life. He just let you live it watching him, and hoping you’d learn from his mistakes. What you didn’t expect, was that his mistakes would in turn become your own burden. You hated him for what he did. You hated that he left you to clean up his mess. You hated that you no longer had a family of your own. Just Daniel, and Daniel, you. That was okay though, the two of you had each other and that was better than nothing. You weren’t sure you’d ever forgive Ace, not for leaving you, but for letting your mother leave you before you ever even got a chance to know her. That was unforgivable.

You finished the last bite of your sandwich, completely spaced out as you stared off at the wall, just letting the memories ravage your consciousness, when suddenly it all just felt like too much. You started to feel suffocated by the thoughts, the room you were in suddenly feeling too hot, and too small. Your chest started to tighten and your throat felt small. You pushed your chair back and snatched your plate from the table, tossing it in the trash can as you offered a quick ‘thank you’ to Y/N. Your feet carried you out into the garage, as your hands found the light switch.  

The buzzing of the fluorescent lights calmed you a bit. Your eyes caught sight of Valor, and huff of air left your chest. A pristine 1968 Chevrolet Chevelle SS. Hardtop, Tuxedo Black with a standard 396 Horsepower engine, all hidden under a dusty beige colored canvas tarp.  

Just keep your mind busy. Do what you know. You walked over to the covered car, letting your hand hover over the cover, grabbing a fist full of the fabric and yanking it off with a scream. Your eyes took her in, she was pretty, you’d give her that, but hell, maybe you would be too if someone spent all their time fixing you up. Ace sure did. Throw the football? ‘No son, we have to get Valor running. Don’t you want to hear her purr?’ You can still hear his voice perfectly, as he says it. 

You slip your hand into the polished chrome handle, pulling the door open and sliding into the white vinyl bucket seat. It hugged you in just the right way, making the driver feel like they were part of the car. One with it. You grabbed the keys from the center console, sticking them into the ignition and twisting. The engine roared to life. He’d at least gotten that far, and he was right, she sure did sound pretty when she purred. But the problem is that she wouldn’t stay running. She’d run for a little while, and out of nowhere, she’d die. And that’s where he left her, sitting right here in the middle of this garage, covered and ashamed. You could barely look at it most days, leaving the cover on for months at a time until the feeling struck, and you needed to get your anger out. You’d completely tear apart the front end, combing through every single piece searching for something, anything that could be wrong, but every time you came up empty. 

Like clockwork, she died. The smell of the carpet and old vinyl filling your senses the way it always had. A suffocating blend of raw gasoline and rich exhaust, with overtones of hot Castrol. You lived for it, in fact it was all you ever really knew. It brought you to life most days, the process of working on cars satisfying your need to fix. To tinker. To solve. You ripped the keys from the ignition and slammed the door shut behind you. The black paint was so perfectly shiny you could see your own reflection. You tossed the keys into your pocket and let your legs carry you up the metal steps to your desk, opening the till, and fingering through the stacks of cash.

You instinctively grab for a twenty, knowing it’s more than enough to cover your usual selection but shit, tonight was a celebration right? You’re getting the good shit tonight. Just for you Ace. Just like you’d do, right? You snatch a fifty from the register, slamming it shut with a ding as your feet stomp down the metal stairs and back through the house. As you cross through the kitchen you grab your keys from the counter, with the fifty still in hand, receiving puzzled looks from Y/N and Daniel. 

You meet her eyes as you watch hers drift down to the cash in your hand, an instant look of confusion crossing her face. You crumpled it up in your hand as soon as you knew she saw it, stuffing the bill in your jeans pocket. 

You know what Daniel wants to say, but you know he’s not stupid enough to say it. Her though, she has no idea, and you know she’s not afraid to speak her mind. Your eyes meet hers again for the briefest second and you wonder if she can see the pain in your eyes before you look away and head for the front door. 

—

It’s not long until you’re pulling up at the QuikStop, pulling the barred door open as the bell chimes overhead. “Well then, what’ve we got here Jacob?” old man Johnson says, taking in your appearance. “Need you a top off tonight, son?” he snickers. You tip your chin in acknowledgement as you make your way to the back wall lined with a small assortment of different liquors. Your eyes scan over the offerings, stopping short when you catch sight of the good stuff. You grab the red waxed neck of the Maker’s Mark, and make your way to the counter to purchase your poison of the evening. You were typically a Seagram’s 7 man, but tonight you were pretty much feeling like a Maker’s man, considering your body was about to filled to the brim with it. fucking anything to stop the noise in your head.

“My my, this’s not ‘chur usual, son.” he grins, knowing you’re about to fork out a pretty penny. 

“Should get the job done, you think?” you remark, pulling the fifty from your jeans pocket.

“Mighty fine this one is. Quell yer troubles, it sure will.” he says, taking it from your fingers. He gives you back a few small bills and loose coins that you shove into your pants pocket, snatching the bottle from the counter before he even has a chance to place it in a paper bag. “You have yeh’s a good night Jacob.” he calls out as your foot steps out the door into the thick humid air. 

 —

HER POV

“Thank you for dinner.” You felt Danny’s breath on the back of your neck as you scrubbed the frying pan. “Do you know how long it’s been since we’ve had a cooked meal in this place?”

His lips were trailing soft kisses down your neck onto your shoulder, making your neck crane sideways. “S’hardly a meal, Danny. Just thought you might’ve wanted somethin’ hot for a change.”

You turned to face him, scratching your nails up his pecs before wrapping your arms around his neck, hands still wet from the sink. “Mmm, I do want somethin’ hot.” His hands were under your thighs, fingertips burying in before lifting you up to sit on the countertop. He was just the right height to pull you forward a little, pressing himself directly against your core. Just that feeling alone made you weak, and hearing his harsh inhale from the contact spurred you on even more. 

You kissed him, hard, feeling that want from earlier come crashing back into you again. His hands stayed on your thighs, his finger span covering almost the entirety of your skin. You both allowed yourselves time to explore again, letting things heat up like they had before. His hand moved up to grip your hair, pulling it backwards as he trailed his mouth down your throat, nipping and biting tiny marks as he did so. 

Suddenly the temperature of the room increased tenfold and you felt your body begging you to do something, make another move. You maneuvered your hips to press yourself against him, his length feeling hard and stiff against you now. The guttural moan that escaped him sounded so carnal you could’ve taken him right then and there, but the risk of being caught was still heavy in your mind. 

“Wait… Jake could be back any minute…” you choked out, glancing to the metal door. 

“Guess we better fuckin' get to it, then.” He buried his face in your neck as he lifted you from the counter, carrying you through the kitchen and to his bedroom with ease. He kicked the door closed behind him as he drifted slowly to his bed, your mouths and hands still ripping at each other. 

His knee hit the mattress and he lowered you down with a bounce, immediately reaching for the hem of your shirt before pulling it over your head. Without disconnecting your mouths, your hands anxiously fumbled around at his zipper, unbuttoning his jeans. It was like all shyness had left your body as you felt no shame in letting your hand grip his shaft, your hands burning to know what he felt like without the barrier of his boxers. 

“Fuck Y/N…I want you so bad…” he almost laughed at himself, pushing your shoulder back into the pillows. 

“Mmm, I can tell.” You grinned as your hand moved up and down his length, growing harder by the second. He rolled over and pulled his jeans off before towering over you again, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra in one swift motion. Your hand found him again, and this time you noticed just how much you were about to be dealing with. You weren’t sure your ever had someone his size before, and it made you fuckin' excited. 

Your mouths were connected in such a way that you felt like you’d never separate; both of you completely taken with the way the other tasted. Your hands came up to grip his face, running your fingers over his cheeks. “Can you please take that fuckin' ring off your finger? If I’m gonna fuck you I don’t want to be thinkin’ about you and another man.”

Shit. You’d completely forgotten you even had it on. You hesitated a second, knowing that it didn’t mean shit to you anymore, but something told you not to throw it away. You slid it off and placed it on the nightstand, out of sight and definitely out of mind. 

“Thank you. Now…let me see your body again, baby…” he mumbled, sitting back on his knees to pull your jeans and panties off. “You’re fuckin' stacked, you know that?”

Your mouth contorted into a devious grin, having never heard a man talk about you like this before. Peter never praised you, never complimented you or your looks, only took what he could get then fell asleep. 

Danny made you feel beautiful, made you feel empowered…his eyes stayed bewitched as he scanned from your thighs to your tits, all the way to your face again before leaning his mouth down, licking directly over your mound and up your stomach. 

His hands gripped around your hips, his fingertips gripping your asscheeks while his thumbs reached all the way to your groin…his hands were massive. He tilted his hands so that you were forced to arch, inadvertently spreading your legs apart a little as he did so. Just that movement alone made you feel used and in charge at the same time; just the sight of your body was sending him over the edge with want for you, and you liked it. 

His eyes met yours again, rushed and frenzied as he silently asked permission. You nodded a little, halfway unsure of what he was asking. 

“You taste as good as you look, baby?” He began to lay his body flat on his stomach between your legs, his hands pressing your muscles in that special way again, to make the display all the more visual for him. “You’re fuckin' soaked, god I bet you’re so sweet…” he muttered, running his tongue up and down the insides of your legs. 

You held back a little. You were absolutely dying for him to bury his face in you, but again, this was something that Peter had only done once or twice for you, and that was only because you’d asked him to. Essentially, this was new territory. A brand new experience, really. Coming from someone who actually wanted to do it. 

His tongue was traveling around still, teasing…exploring. “Can I taste you?” He asked, his deep brown eyes flickering up to yours as you anxiously let a hand down to grip in his hair. You nodded quickly, a barely audible ‘yes’ slipping from your lips. “Please.”

When his tongue finally buried in between your folds, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced in your life…obviously Peter had been doing it all wrong. His tongue buried, his lips enclosed around you…hitting all the right spots with such precision you felt like you were in the clouds. The burning, fiery, thunder-storming clouds. Your hand gripped his hair tighter as he pushed inside you, lapping his tongue side to side and up and down and pulling out again, then working tiny circles around your clit. 

You realized you’d been holding your breath the second Danny popped up, laughing a little bit. “Breathe, baby.” You could feel the peach fuzz around his mouth scratching against you as he smiled through his words, but it felt good. An added bonus, the slightly painful irritation making it feel even better as he glided side to side. 

You listened to his instruction as you let yourself inhale, his low growl giggle vibrating through your body. “God damnit, Danny…what the…” your knees came up around his ears, your thighs squeezing him together as you neared that sweet feeling beginning to take over your entire body. His hands were still gripped tightly around your hips and ass, holding you steadily exactly where he wanted you. 

Fuck, you loved feeling out of control.

But then, suddenly, you wanted more. Needed more. He began to bring his hand around to add his fingers, lightly toying at your entrance with his fingertips. 

“No, no.” You commanded, stopping him in his tracks. 

“What’s wrong, you okay?” He perked up. 

You pulled him up by his hair, urging him to kiss you again. “Yes I’m fine. Didn’t want you to do that, yet. I wanna feel you. It ruins the surprise.” You muttered through exhausted pants, kissing away the wetness that covered his face. 

His eyebrows raised in surprise, an impressed look of intrigue flowing over him. “Oh, fuck…alright then.”

You pushed him off you to lie flat on his back, completely caught off guard by the switch. “Take them off.” You demanded, but also reaching for the hem of his boxers yourself, to speed up the process. 

Once they were in a pile beside you, you hopped to all fours and placed one hand on either side of his head as his hands drifted from your back to your hips again. He was fighting himself, bucking his hips up into you as he tried to make contact. 

“Let me do it. Wanna feel every inch.” You spoke again, letting him know you were on top, you were calling the shots. His facial expression was already fucked out, still shining with the wetness from your arousal…you could tell you had him right where you wanted him. You reached between you, gripping his considerable length in your hand again as he tossed his head back with a groan. Your eyes caught the way the ink danced across his neck as it pulled tight. The spider web that stretched across his throat was so intricate, you felt caught in the web yourself. He clenched his jaw together when he finally looked at you, reaching a hand up to grip your hair back away from falling in his face. 

“Wanna see your face, baby. Do it, please, fuck…” he was writhing beneath you, and you could already tell he was going to be the lay of a lifetime. You teased your own entrance with his tip, tracing your wetness all around. When you finally lined up, you prepared yourself to take him in, knowing it had been a while, and this was going to be a stretch. 

You went slowly, feeling every centimeter enter you, the pain so sweet and so engulfing. When you finally bottomed out, he choked out a huffed sound so beautiful you wished you had it on film, the feeling of him all the way inside you so snug, he felt like he belonged there. 

“Jesus Christ Y/N…my god…” he purred, his tongue sticking out to wet his lips as you sat back up, slowly beginning a pace that you knew was going to absolutely kill you. He was unlike anything you had ever felt before, the perfect size, attached to the perfect body…his eyes finally looked up at you long enough to share a moment. His abdomen crunched in on itself when you bottomed out again, the top of his head resting on your shoulder as his hands guided you up and down. 

You finally let yourself find a rhythm, leaning into him and flicking your hips back as you sped up. You let your cries fill the room; suddenly you couldn’t care less if Jake walked in on you right now. It was heavenly, perfect in every sense of the word, and your insides were swirling and begging you to never let yourself stop. 

“God, please don’t stop, Y/N…right there…” he purred again, gripping your hair back as you rode him into oblivion. You leaned back a little, resting one hand on his thigh behind you while the other one balanced on his sternum. Your fingers danced dangerously close to another tattoo, one you hadn’t seen before. A scattering of words in German sat delicately over his heart. You wanted to ask him what it said, but you were scared to know, based on the location.

You felt him deep inside, simply rolling your hips forward and back as you let him take a look at the show. You felt him hitting you deeper this way, eliciting a whine from you that you were borderline embarrassed about. His hand shot to your core, his thumb rubbing over your clit as he bucked up again. “So fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N…I swear…” 

His praises tightened the knot that was already building inside you, the sound of him coming apart beneath you was enough to get you off by itself. Just as you were about to let it all go, you leaned down over him again, your mouth burying in his neck, biting into him as your sounds became more and more strangled, the overwhelming feeling of pure pleasure ripping through your body. 

The buildup was insane, it felt like it lasted for hours. You guessed he could tell that you were close as he began thrusting up into you, too. “Yeah baby…go for it…let me have it…”

The white light that encompassed your entire being came flashing before your eyes, your teeth clenching into the skin of his pec as you came undone, shaking with what had to have been the most intense orgasm you had ever had. You wanted to say his name, scream it into the air, let him know how good he felt inside you, but you couldn’t form a coherent word even if you wanted to. Everything went numb and dull for a split second as you came down, panting and crying out choked sounds as you relaxed. You continued riding him, though…wanting to bring him to his delicious climax too. 

“I’m close baby please, please don’t stop…” he begged, and suddenly his stomach was clenching, his dick twitching deep inside you still as he pulled you up off of him, grabbing himself in his hand to let his release flow over his hand and onto your stomach. You watched as his hand worked over his length, his eyes fixed on you as he came down, and slowed his hand. 

His eyebrows shot together as his facial expression showed you how good it felt, how pretty you looked with his cum on you… it wasn’t something you had ever let a man do before, but you swore in that second that if he made you feel that way for the rest of forever, you’d let him do just about whatever he damn well pleased. 

When you finally caught your breath, you smiled at one another, laughing and completely out of breath. 

“Christ, you were even better than I imagined, baby…” he huffed, letting his hands fly to either side of his body, careful not to drop the mess that was in his right hand. You laughed as you plopped down beside him, grinning from ear to ear as you left the afterglow set in. 

“I’ve never had a man make me feel so good in my life, Danny. I swear.” You admitted. 

“Really? Even when you did that to them?” He perked up in disbelief. 

You nodded. “Yeah, really. There were a couple of firsts in there.”

His eyebrows raised up. “Fuck… Well, I’m telling you, I never would’ve guessed that, baby. You are spectacular. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop wanting you like that.” He brought his face close to yours to lay a sweet, passionate kiss to your lips. 

You smiled sweetly back as he pulled away, looking back at you with the sweetest smirk as he made his way to the bathroom, and you suddenly found yourself completely unable to pull your lust filled eyes away from the perfect roundness of his ass. 

——

“This one okay?” You asked Danny, pulling an oversized t-shirt from his drawer. It was a dingy white and filled with holes and rips, but the fabric felt soft and comfortable. 

“Whatever you want, baby.” He smirked, laid out across his bed in nothing but his loose-fitting gray boxers, strumming away on a black acoustic guitar. His eyes had been transfixed on the wall across from you before you interrupted him…his fingers mindlessly crawling across the 6-string, plucking out a solemn little tune that wasn’t familiar. 

You crawled back up next to him on the bed, reaching across him to his nightstand to grab his box of smokes. “What are these, anyway?” You asked, opening the top flap. 

“…Not what the box says they are.” He let out a sweet laugh. “I roll my own. I blend together a few different types of tobacco to get the flavor I want.”

“Hm. That’s why yours always smell so much better than Jake’s, then?” You asked, pulling one out and running it underneath your nose. “They smell sweet…”

“Mmhm. Taste good too. Try it.” He let go of the neck of the guitar for a second, reaching to his table to grab his lighter. He flicked the ignitor and produced a flame for you, watching you intently as you brought the end of the cigarette to it, inhaling the sweet aroma into your lungs. Damn, he was right. 

“That’s really tasty…” you licked your lips together. “Even the paper is kinda sweet.” You hit it again before passing it back to him. 

“Yeah. Took me a while to get it just right. Came from stealin’ Ace’s half empty bags mostly.” He laughed at the memory. 

You tucked a pillow up under your arm as he began to play again, the cigarette hanging from his lips as the ash grew longer. His inked hands looked sinful dancing across the strings, and he was so natural at it. You caught a glimpse of the red and black triple’s 7’s tattooed on the inside of his pointer finger, and for some reason, you were sure you’d not seen it before. 

“Triple 7’s, huh?” You thought you had a pretty good idea of what it symbolized, but you wanted to see what his reasoning was. 

“Yeah, symbolizes good fortune and luck.” He pulled the smoke from his lips, tamping it out on the ashtray on the table. “Doesn’t really seem to be doin’ the job too well, does it?” He ended his sentence with a wink. “Not til’ you waltzed through the door at least.”

You began fingering with a loose string on his boxers. “I thought it meant the Holy Trinity...” 

“Means that too, I guess. But I stopped bein’ religious a long time ago.” 

The two of you were quiet a while, just the occasional sound of Jake banging around in the shop mixed with Danny’s tune to fill the air. 

“How long you been playin’?” You asked. 

His voice was getting groggy, sleep threatening him as the minutes ticked by. “Since I was 5 or 6 I guess, one of my foster families had one and I remember realizing it made a really pretty noise… I’d pick it up and run to my room and strum away on it to drown out the sound of them fighting. Seemed to help me not hear it. Then I started to actually like the way it felt in my hands…”

You were quiet for a second. “That why you play your music so loud now?”

His fingers stopped altogether as his eyes met yours. His face slowly contorted into a million different emotions at once before he looked back to the wall again, gently picking up where he left off. 

“Fuck, yeah…I guess it is…”

“Jake play guitar too?” You tried to change the subject once you realized you had maybe hit a little too close to home with your question. 

He shook his head. “No, he plays harmonica like the damned devil, though. Only does it every once in a while, but shit…he’s good at it. Every now and then we’ll get on a good drunk and play together to a big audience of ourselves.” He smiled sideways as he turned to look at you. 

“Maybe y'all can play for me sometime.” Your fingertips were sliding along the hem of his boxers. 

He sucked his bottom lip in through his teeth. “We’d love to play for you…” his eyes had started bouncing around each feature on your face, taking you in again as he moved himself closer. He pressed his lips into yours again, sweet and soft and mellow. “You know I’m gonna be thinking of you on top of me all the time now…gonna want it all the time…” he groaned through broken kisses. “Fuck… I don’t think you even know how gorgeous you looked…” 

You pressed your tongue between his lips again, the sudden new movements hitting the strings of the guitar causing them to make a crazy scratching noise. “I’ll ride you whenever the hell you want, Danny…” you breathed, huffing a breath into his mouth. And you meant it, too. 

Just as things started to get heated again, you heard Danny’s radio in the bay shoot up to 11. It was followed by a loud metallic bang, and the sound of a loud engine starting up. It startled you, and you sat up to look at the door. 

“Fuck.” Danny said shortly, rubbing his hands through his hair. 

“What was that? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, no. No, he’s not. But, we’ve just gotta—” he sputtered. You slid yourself across the bed, moving toward the door as you heard another loud thud echo through the bay. 

“What is he doing?!” you urge.

“He’s drunk. He’s trying to fix Valor.” He explained, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Valor? The fuck is Valor?” you ask. 

“The fuckin' car his dad left em.” he answers. “Only touches it when he's wasted.”

“How do you know, does he do this often?” You stood at the foot of Danny’s bed, throwing your hip out as you crossed your arms. Suddenly you heard Jake’s loud voice yelling along to the first verse of ‘Turn the Page’ by Bob Seger. “My god, is he singing?!”

Danny sat up and crawled to sit on the edge of the bed. “Y/N, listen. Every so often, Jake will go on a bender, and when he does it, he does it right. It was Ace’s dying wish for Jake to fix that car, and the only way he can bring himself to touch it, is if he’s out of his mind intoxicated. So, we just gotta let him do it. He’ll be fine, just gotta get it out of his system.” 

Wait. “So he has to be fucked up before he can even pop the hood?” This wasn’t making sense. 

Danny nodded. “Yeah, he’ll be fine, this is just how he works through it.”

“Danny, that is an extremely unhealthy way for him to be dealin’ with this…” you said quietly. He shrugged his shoulders and huffed out a breath, his expressions saying nothing more than it is what it is. 

Another bang and more loud sing-shouting bellowed off the walls again, and you decided you’d had it. You yanked the door open, and made your way out into the shop, seeing Jake looking a complete and total mess as he dipped his head low inside the belly of Valor. A cigarette rested between his lips as both of his hands disappeared deep down in the engine. 

“Ain’t it unsafe to have an open flame that close to motor oil?!” You yelled, grabbing his attention. He perked up, his eyes a deep dark black that you hadn’t seen before. There was a scowl on his face and his nostrils flared when he looked at you, absolutely absorbed in the hatred and madness he must be currently full of. “Why are you out here makin’ all this racket?” You yelled over the music. 

He pulled the cigarette from his mouth, throwing it to the floor and stomping it out as the smoke drifted from his lips. “None of your fuckin' business.” You watched as his eyes glanced toward Danny’s room. “Get back in there and let your boyfriend serenade you to sleep.” He slurred, pulling a socket wrench from his kit. 

“Agh!” You had a knee-jerk reaction to his words. “He’s not my boyfriend…” you crossed your arms across your chest. Who the fuck does he think he is?

Jake raised his hands into the air. “Whatever! Don’t care!” He shoo’d you away with a flick of his wrist, and buried his face back into the engine, screaming the words loudly again. “Here I gooooo, on the road again!”

You decided that seeing him like this, for the reason he was like this, wasn’t going to fly if you had anything to do with it. You stomped over to the other side of the hood, standing until he felt you watching. 

“God damnit!” He yelled, dropping the tool to the floor beneath the car. When he stood back up he met your eyes again. He reached down beside his foot, pulling up a large glass bottle of liquor, taking it straight to the head. 

A handle of Maker’s. He had gone to the liquor store earlier…but where did he get the cash for something like that…? 

Oh, fuck. The fifty you saw him shove in his pocket. With the red X over Grant. 

“You used my goddamn money to buy that, didn’t you?” You spat as he swallowed, wiping the excess drips from his chin with the back of his dirty hand. “The fifty you had earlier, you took it and spent it on this?!” You were enraged. He was supposed to be using that to buy your parts. 

“Again, it’s none of your fuckin' business, Y/N!” He was spitting and slurring his words, his face red with anger and drunkenness.

“No, it is my business! That’s my money you’re drinking away right now! That’s so fucked, Jake!” You were yelling at him now. “What do you think, I’m just gonna slide you an extra fifty for your trouble?!”

He snarled his nose up, taking another swig. “Screw you, Y/N. Get the fuck out of my face.”

You stepped toward him now, your entire body raging with madness that you just couldn’t qualm. “Why don’t you yell at me, Jake. Huh? Yell at me. Take it out on me, instead of the void. You want something to be mad at? Try me…” you hit yourself in the chest a couple times, trying to get him to have the reaction you were hoping for, probably looking mighty intimidating standing there barefoot in nothing but Danny’s t-shirt. 

He stepped back away from you. “What? Why…”

“Jake, almost half of the bottle is gone. Did you go somewhere and drink before you came back? Why are you—“

“Y/N, nobody fuckin' asked for the twenty questions. Can you go the fuck back to Daniel and let me do this?! Please.” He ignored you again, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he had tears welling in his eyes. There was a long pause in the conversation. He just needed to talk…

“What if I don’t want to?” You said, your voice as meek as possible over the volume of the radio. 

That confused him. “What if I want to stay here and help you?”

“You can’t help me, Y/N.” His face fell as he slammed a wrench back into the top drawer of the kit. “Nobody can.”

“Can you let me try?” You pleaded. 

He looked directly at you, and you watched as his face softened a bit. He shrugged his shoulders and let them fall again before taking another big swig of the liquor. You leaned in, yanking the bottle from his hand, tilting it back and taking a long shot, yourself. You winced as the hot liquor went down your throat before leaning your elbows down on the panel of the car, looking down inside it at what he was working on. Thankfully a slower, quieter song had come across the radio. 

“Now, what are we dealing with, here?” You asked, hoping he’d catch the double entendre. “Tell me all about it…”

He replaced his dirty hands back down into the front end, twisting something loose as he cleared his scratchy throat. 

“It’s been seven years. Seven years today.” He said quietly as his Adam’s apple bobbed. 

“Seven years since…?”

“Since my dad…died.” He was biting his cheeks in over and over. 

“What happened, Jake?” You leaned in a little closer, brushing some dust off the top of the engine. 

Jake leaned back, reached into his pocket and pulled out a few sheets of folded up notebook paper, dirty and torn from being in the hands and pocket of a mechanic. You took it gently from his hand, and slowly opened it. 

‘April 22, 1975’. You read to yourself before scanning the rest of the hand-written note. You felt your heart sink as the words clicked in your mind. 

“Jake, is this?”

“My dad’s suicide note. Yeah. Wrote it seven years ago today.” He replied, turning a socket wrench over and over as he avoided eye contact with you. “Left it for me on my nightstand while I was asleep.”

Your heart began pounding in your chest. Fuck. You hadn’t realized that was how he passed. You swallowed hard before even trying to speak again. “So you…you found him?” 

Jake brought the bottle to his lips again, swallowing it down before passing it to you. You tilted it up, and did the same. He nodded, barely any movement in his body now. “Yeah.” His eyes were blank as they stared at the block in front of him. 

You took a chopped breath. Maybe…maybe he just needs to get it out…hell. You were no psychologist.

Finally you spoke barely above a whisper. “Where was he?”

Jake was biting the sides of his cheeks in hard, his gaunt face pulled into itself as the dark circles shadowed even more in the dim light. His eyes looked dead into yours, deep and blank, before flicking up to the ceiling behind you, then back to yours. 

You turned around slowly following his line of vision, seeing the high exposed rafter in the lofted ceiling. 

Fucking hell. 

You turned back, your eyes closed as your hands found your face, tears fighting to spring out as the image of the rafter sat burned in your brain. Jesus. 

“Jake, I-I’m so…I didn’t mean for you to have to think about that again, that must have been…” you could hardly find the words to apologize, to empathize with him, with what he must have gone through that day, finding his dad like that. Gone through every day since. There were no words. There never would be any words. “I’m so sorry, Jake. Truly.”

“S’okay. In the past, now. What’s done is done.” He shrugged, nipping the bottle again. 

“But you were just a kid, Jake…”

“Yeah, I was. Not a damn clue in the world. Had to do the growin’ up a man does in twenty years that very day.” You watched as a tiny tear escaped the outside corner of his eye, and he quickly wiped it away. “Left me with absolutely fuckin' nothin except a couple thousand dollars, that note, this fuckin' shit hole building, and every bad debt he ever had. But I had Danny with me. And Bubba. Danny was only…only fourteen.”

You felt your heart physically breaking into a million pieces for him, for both of them, thinking back to them being young teenagers and having to deal with that basically on their own…

“I’m glad you had them with you.” You agreed. 

He nodded, his eyes turning red. “Don’t know what I would’ve done if Danny wasn’t here. Hell, his voice had barely even changed and he was helping me plan our dad’s funeral after he got home from school. But you know, he never even faltered. Kid took care of me better than I took care of myself those few weeks after. Forced me to eat, kept my mind busy…” you watched as he replayed the memories, probably running through them all in his head like watching them on an old projector screen. 

“He basically kept the shop running while I stayed away from the world in my bedroom. I don’t even…” he shook his head as he collected himself. “People brought us food, Bubba was here every single day making sure we were okay…but Danny did it all. I don’t even know how he did it, he was a baby. Fuckin' workhorse…always has been.”

He took a second to rub his dirty hands over his tired eyes. “I don’t…we don’t have anybody, Y/N. No family at all.”

You reached out and cupped your hand over his, squeezing it hard as you let him talk. “Danny’s your brother.” 

“In everything but blood.” He licked his lips, turning his hand over to hold yours back. You smiled, letting him know you were still here to listen, if he wanted to continue…even if it was just the whiskey giving him confidence. 

“So you basically raised Danny, after that…” you relented. 

He shrugged his shoulders in agreement. “Yeah, I guess, kinda. I dropped out of school right before graduation, but. Made sure he made it through senior year and all that. Honestly he raised me more than I did him, if I think about it.” He smirked a little. “We learned it all together.”

His eyes completely closed and he leaned his entire body weight down on his elbows. “Teddy…Teddy was uh, in love with my mom…before I was born.” His eyebrows raised and he laid more information out on the table for you. 

“What?!” 

He swigged the bottle again. “Yup. S’why he hated my dad so much. They were both vying for her at the same time…guess Ace swept her off her feet somehow.”

“Is that why he hates you so badly?” You were starting to put the pieces together. “He sees your mom in you?”

He nodded again. “Exactly. He’s still punishing me for what my dad did to him. Or my mom, whatever. I never asked for details. That’s why he’s still after me for my dad’s money. Still heartbroken and fucked up over somethin’ that went down before I was even born. The son of a bitch.”

“That’s not fuckin' fair, Jake.”

“Preachin’ to the choir, babe.” He clicked his tongue and sent you a wink.

He squeezed your hand a few times before releasing it, and walked over to plop himself down in one of the dirty lawn chairs against the wall of the shop. You followed suit, sitting beside him in the other chair as you curled your legs up and pulled Danny’s shirt over your knees. 

“Tell me about Ace. Was he a funny guy?” You asked, trying to get him through his anguish. He grinned a little, hastily wiping his eyes again. 

“Yeah, when he wanted to be. He was always full of dumb jokes and one-liners. But he stayed quiet most of the time, buried himself in his work. Till things went south with my mom, they got into drugs for a little bit. Nothing too serious but enough to count. My dad stepped away from it but mom didn’t. Then she just…disappeared. Before I was even out of diapers. Haven’t heard from her since.”

“What’s her name?”

“Stella.”

He took a deep breath. “You don’t have to sit out here and talk to me, ya know. I’m a fuckin' drunk mess. And I ain’t real sorry about it.”

You smirked. “Hey, just keepin’ you company.” You tilted the bottle back again, almost choking on it when it hit you. “Oh my god, Jake…the other day you said Ace died the day before your eighteenth birthday, that means…tomorrow is your birthday…?”

He nodded. “Yep. The big 2-6, I guess.”

Fuck. Now you understand why. His rage makes sense…

“Well that means we gotta have you a party!” You squealed, standing from the chair. 

“No no no, it’s just another day. I don’t need no party.” You grabbed his filthy hands, standing to your feet and bringing him with you. 

“Birthdays are the most important day of the year, silly!” You started dancing around to ’Cinnamon Girl’ as it blared from Danny’s speaker high on the shelf, holding Jake’s hands as you spun yourself around. “I saw your Neil Young poster on the wall, I know you love him. Come on, dance with me, birthday boy!” You couldn’t help but to try and act and candidly as you could, anything to try and make him feel just a little bit better on the anniversary of the worst day of his life. Even if it was just making him smile for a second. 

“You see us together, chasing the moonlight, my cinnamon girlllllll.” You sang out loud. 

Which you did, kind of. He grinned a bit and rolled his eyes at you, his sticky hands gripping just the very ends of your fingertips. You didn’t know if Danny knew what you were doing out here, but you didn’t really care if he did. It was his best friend’s birthday, for Christ sake. And no one even cared. 

Jake was stumbling around, his eyes heavily hooded and red. You realized maybe the alcohol had hit him when you stood him up so fast. He stepped his feet around a little bit, hardly much of a dance at all while you swung his arms around. It did manage to bring a little bit of a smile to his face, though. 

“I do love Neil Young, you’re right. And I’m impressed you know this song.” He chuckled. “Hmm, I’m fuckin' drunk though, too. Sleepy.” He said as you dropped his hands back to his sides. “Think I’m gonna go crash out.” He looked at you through one eye, and you realized how drunk he really was. 

“Shit, are you gonna be sick?” You asked. 

“No no, just sleep. Wan’ ma bed.” He mumbled, walking over to the shop sink to wash his dirty hands. 

“Okay, let me walk you.” You offered as he finished, walking backwards as you pulled him along toward his bedroom. 

When you got inside you flicked the light on, watching as Jake kicked his coveralls, jeans, and boots off as he waddled through the room. My god, his thigh tattoo, you hadn’t seen it up close, fuck…it was a dragon. Big and black and blue with fire coming from its mouth leading directly to…

He threw himself onto the mattress, his pile of freshly-washed sheets still laying a mess on top. 

“Mmm, they smell so good I just wanna…” he curled his arms and legs up in them, wrapping up like a cocoon as he buried himself in them. 

You laughed. “Is this what having clean sheets does to a man?!”

“They’re still kinda warm from the dryer, Y/N! Come feel, come here…” he reached his hand out, pulling you down into the bed with him. You bounced a couple times from the force, but you landed directly in his arms, face to face as you ended up tangled in the sheets with him. 

“See? Still warm, aren’t they?!” He was like a giddy school kid, but what he didn’t notice was how close your faces were. You could smell the heavy liquor emanating through his pores, on his breath, and swirling through the air, but his hand that pulled you down never let go. It gripped hard on yours as you laid beside him, both of you staring at each other, feeling each other’s chests rise and fall as your heart rate skyrocketed. 

Suddenly you felt the light touch of his other hand barely grazing across your back. “Are you still scared of me?” He asked, his voice hollow and needy. 

You thought a second, realizing that if you were truly scared of him, you wouldn’t have faced the monster he was, head-on earlier. By yourself in your panties, at that. 

“No.” You said simply, and that was the truth.

The corners of his lips tilted up just slightly as he whispered. “Good.”

You got ahold of yourself, turning your face away as you fought the demons that began circling in your mind, being this close to him. 

“I know what I want for my birthday.” He slurred, rolling his head into his pillow. 

“What’s that?”

“You ta’ read me more Maya poems.” His eyes were already closing as his words barely slipped out. You knew it wouldn’t be long. You were getting tired, yourself. You reached to his nightstand where your book still sat, opening to a passage of one of your favorites. 

You began reading out loud, just louder than a whisper, watching as his eyes drifted closed, his pink lips mouthing the words right along with you. 

And without even knowing it you fell asleep there, curled up in his pile of sheets, one hand on your book, and the other wrapped up in Jake’s. 

—

JAKE POV

Even through your drunken slumber you could hear the pounding on the door. Your eyes blinked open, trying to register if it was really happening or if you were dreaming. Surely you had to be as you looked over and saw Y/N asleep next to you. She was here, in your bed, with you. Your hand rested on the skin of her stomach and you could hardly tear your eyes away from her as you took in the way she felt beneath your hand. You wanted to pull her close, smell her hair, let your fingers glide over her skin, but instead you heard the knocking on the front door continue. She began to stir from the noise, rolling to face you as you realized you needed to get up. 

You pulled the blankets off of your body, your eyes searching furiously for where your gun ended up, finally catching sight of it on the dresser. You grabbed it, and bolted through your bedroom door to find out who the fuck was knocking on your door at four in the morning. You cocked your gun, and held it behind your back as you unlocked the front door, pulling it open slightly to see who it was. Bubba? The fuck?

You pulled the door open more, “What’s wrong?” you asked in a panic. This was unlike him. He never showed up like this unless something was wrong. Your eyes glanced behind him, scanning for anything out of the ordinary. 

“You got that girl here, son?” he asks, raising a brow. 

You furrow your brows and shift your weight into your hip, “Yeah, she’s here.”

“Good. Keep ‘er here. Don’t let ‘er outta your sight. Ain’t safe for ‘er.” he warns, quietly. 

“Joey was sniffin’ around up here earlier today, askin’ questions and shit. Asked where she was, so we went and got her from the motel. She’s not goin’ back. I knew he was up to some shit.” you answer, setting your gun down on the table by the door. 

“I don’t know what exactly is goin’ down over at Teddy’s but, might be best for her to just lay low here for a while. You boys don’t let them snatch that girl, whatever you do, you hear?” he says, crossing his arms. “That’s not why I’m here though.” 

“Alright, why are you here…” you ask, wondering what couldn’t wait until the morning. 

“Got a meeting set up for you two, ‘round 3 o’clock tomorrow. Down at the old sawmill.” he answers with a gleam in his eye.

“A meeting? The fuck kind of meeting Bubba?” you ask defensively. “Three’s in the middle of the work day, I don–”

“Yer gonna wanna take this meeting, son, promise yeh.” he nods. “Just trust me. You and Daniel better go. Don’t make me look bad, boy.”

“What should we expect?” You asked. 

Bubba stepped forward, placing his hand directly on your shoulder. “Just trust me.”

“Shit, alright.” you say, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Thanks.”

“Get you some rest.” he says, tipping his chin and heading back to his car. 

The hell…

You shut the door and lock it behind you, grabbing your gun from the table, and heading towards Daniel’s room. You rap your knuckles against the door, before twisting the handle, but as you push the door, he pulls it open. “Who the fuck was that?” he asks, a slight panic in his voice.

“Bubba.”

“The fuck does he want at four in the morning?” he questions, resting his hands on the door frame. 

“He set up a meeting for us tomorrow out behind the old Willits Sawmill. No fuckin' idea what for, but said we need to be there. 3 o’clock.” you answer. 

“A meeting?”

“S’what he said. I don’t fuckin' know…” you quip.

“Whatever, we can deal with it in the morning. Where’s Y/N?” he asks, looking down the hallway. 

You run your tongue over your teeth as you huff out an answer, “My bed.”

He raises his eyebrows, “In your bed…” he pauses, hardening his jaw, “Why’s that…”

You shake your head, and look past him for a second, before letting your eyes meet his, “Why don’t you let her tell you in the morning. Get some sleep, sounds like we’ve got a long day tomorrow.” you say, clapping your hand against his back with a smug grin. 

He narrows his eyes at you, and shuts his door as you step across the hallway to your room. As you open the door you see her sitting on the edge of the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest as she picks the skin on her thumb. “What’s going on? What’s happening?” she asks nervously.

You step into the room, shutting the door behind you before placing your gun on your nightstand. She just stares at you waiting for you to answer as you let out a deep sigh. You motion for her to get back into the bed, watching as she scoots back over to the other side, letting you slide back in where you were. You pull the clean smelling blankets back up around your shoulders before grabbing her waist and pulling her close to you. You settle your head on your pillow, finally able to breathe in the scent of her hair as the words fall out of your lips in a quiet whisper, “Nothing you need to worry about tonight…”

Her body relaxes beneath your arm, and you let your eyes close, feeling the warmth of her skin against yours. Maybe birthdays weren’t so bad after all.  

—

DANNY POV

You rolled the creeper from beneath the old GMC as you heard the garage door shut and two pairs of feet shuffling across the bay. “Well, here we are again…Like deja vu.” you quip, cutting your eyes to Y/N, as she approaches. 

You pull yourself up to meet her as Jake opens his tool kit across the bay. You let your eyes linger on him for a minute before flicking them back to Y/N.  “Thought you’d be back last night…”

She drops her shoulders and lets out a defeated sigh, “I know. I know, I was trying, I swear, but…” she pauses, looking over her shoulder at Jake, who was now in his own little world beneath the hood of the Chevy. “I went out to talk to him last night, right? Well he kinda…opened up to me a little bit, told me about his dad… about his mom…” she says, a slight lilt in her voice. “He was so drunk Danny, he even cried a little bit.” she said, almost a whisper. 

“I know. I peeked out and saw the two of you talking. Talking more than he’s talked in years. Figured I'd let him get it out. Think he needed it.” you answer truthfully.

“You saw?” she asks, and you nod your head in response. 

“Anyways, I just wanted to make sure he made it to his bed, that’s all. Asked me to just stay and talk a little more and I fell asleep. I had no idea it was the anniversary of his dad’s death. No wonder he was so messed up. Oh– and it’s his birthday today. Did you know that?” she asks. 

Oh shit, you forgot. “Oh, um, yeah I guess you’re right it is. Usually we don’t do anything. Kinda just another day around here.”

“Just another day?” she asks, face painted with shock. “Danny that’s so…That’s so sad. I wish there was something I could do…” she says with sad eyes. 

Your eyes flicked over to Jake and you caught him, seeing him flick his head up in acknowledgement, a small smile on his face. You look back at her, resting your hand on her small shoulder, “Baby, I think you did...” both of you turning to see him gently singing along with the music playing through the speakers. 

—

“So this meeting…” you start, leaning on the frame of the Chevy. Jake turns to you, setting down his tools. “Yeah, at three.”

“I was thinking, we can’t leave her here, right? Like, what if this is just a set up to get her alone?” you ask, picking the dirt from under your nails.

“Yeah I considered that. Think we’ll have to bring her with just to be safe. She can wait in the truck.” he says, pushing off the frame of the car. You follow him through the bay as he rifles through his kit in search of another tool. 

“I can take the bike, you two take the truck. Do we even know what this meeting is about?” you ask. 

“Nah, Bubba didn’t say, but I trust ‘em. S’only got our best interest, ya know.” he replies, snatching the tool from the box and walking back over to the truck. 

“I think we need to be prepared for any scenario…” you say with the raise of your eyebrows. 

“Well fuckin' obviously. No clue what we’re gonna tell Y/N though.”

“Shit, hopefully this isn’t some stupid fuckin' setup. What we got like an hour?” you ask. 

“Yeah. About. Think we should clean up, or…” he asks, turning to you.

“I mean, we could, but s’not really us, huh?” you laugh, placing your hand on his shoulder, “Hey, happy birthday brother.”

He tightens his lips and nods his head as he looks to the floor, “Ahh, thanks man. Twenty-six. Seems old.” he laughs. 

“Nah, not really, we still got a lot of livin’ left to do.” you smile, watching as he nods his head and his eyes flick over to Y/N who is lounging in a folding chair out front. 

“She was worried ‘bout you last night.” you press, hoping to hear his thoughts. 

“Yeah, came out here guns a-blazin’ and didn’t falter for a second. Talked for a bit, drank too fuckin’ much. Woke up and she was in my bed.” he says, and you feel a little relieved.

You smirk and raise an eyebrow, “She’s a sweet lil thing.”

He scoffs a laugh at you. “Guess you got to find that out for sure when I left last night, huh? Had yourselves a good ol’ time in my absence…saw your shirt must’ve been the closest thing she could grab when I got home.”

You bit your lips in, nodding as you went. “She’s fuckin’ phenomenal, man. Like, I didn’t expect that…” 

He laughed again, blushing a little. “No, she seems like a good girl. Feel like shit for all the hell we’re puttin’ her through.” he admits, wiping his hand on the rag in his back pocket. 

“You order those parts?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

“Yeah, should be here in a week or two.” he nods, leaning on the frame of the truck. 

“Make any headway with Val?” you wonder, seeing it still sitting uncovered. He shakes his head, “Nah, the old bitch still givin’ me a run for my money.”

“One of these days we’ll crack ‘er.” you say, giving him one last pat on the shoulder before returning to your side of the garage. 

—

You stand in the doorway of the truck, watching her buckle her seatbelt as Jake slides into the driver’s seat. “Listen, we aren’t really sure what’s about to go down, but just stay in the truck, lay low, and if shit goes south, get on the floorboard. Alright?” you ask, letting your thumb swipe over her cheek. She nods her head and you tip your chin, turning to head towards your bike. 

The door shuts behind you and Jake pulls out of the driveway in a cloud of dust. You quickly jump on your bike, starting it with a roar, before following closely behind them. Your heart is pounding a little extra hard as you make your way to the old abandoned sawmill, completely unsure of what or who will be waiting there for you.

His truck slows as he pulls into the cracked and pot hot riddled lot, seeing a single car parked at the far end. It’s not a car you recognize from around here and that puts you on high alert. The hair on the back of your neck stands tall as Jake parks the truck, letting you pull up next to him. 

Y/N slinks down in the seat, trying her best to stay out of sight, as Jake steps out of his truck, slamming his door shut. You lean your bike on the kickstand and walk towards him, both of you sending each other a concerned look. “Recognize it?” you murmur under your breath. 

“Nah.” he says, reaching back into his belt to cock his gun. You do the same, hoping it won’t come to that, but around here it wouldn’t be unheard of. 

The two of you walk through the crunching pavement over towards the dark green GMC Sprint, seeing a man resting against the driver’s door. He hears you approaching and pushes off the car turning to face you. The sun is in your eyes as you catch sight of his face, distorting his features until you get a little closer. You notice the car is still running, despite him not occupying it, and that too, makes you uneasy.

“Was at the poker game.” you whisper. 

“Sure was.” Jake replies, stepping up to the man. 

“Hello fellas.” the man says with a smirk. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yep, what uh– what can we do for ya?” Jake asks, with his hands on his hips. 

“Well boys, to be frank with you, I’d like to make a proposition to you.”

“You were at the game the other night. Haven’t seen you ‘round here before.” You say, crossing your arms against your chest. 

“You’re right, I was. Names Oscar, but you can call me Oz.” he says, extending his hand to shake. You stare at it for a minute in contemplation before reaching towards him and shaking his hand. Jake follows, introducing himself. 

“Oh I know who you boys are. Heard all about yehs.” he smiles.

“Heard about what?” you ask, narrowing your eyes. 

“Heard you two were some fighters.” he says, tipping his head. 

“Fighters?” Jake asks, shaking his head. 

“S’what word on the street is. Figured I’d stop in to see for myself. Talked to some folks ‘round town, told me ‘bout your little poker games, and wouldn’t you know I got what I asked for. Saw the two of yeh’s on the side of the house.” he says, tightening his lips. 

“So what, doesn’t mean we’re fighters or whatever the fuck.” Jake quips, standing firm. 

“No son, I think that’s exactly what you are.” he retorts. “That’s why I asked your friend Bubba to arrange this little meetin’. Thought this could be beneficial for both of us.” 

“You gonna get to the point?” you ask, trying to hurry things along. 

He laughs a little under his breath, “I want you two come fight for me. You win, you get a portion of the winnins’.” he says, placing his hand in his pocket. He pulls out a stack of cash, easily five-hundred bucks. “Pay off that debt of yers real quick like.”

“Fight for you? The fuck does that mean?” Jake asks, staring at the money in his hand. 

“You ever heard of Vale Tudo?” he asks, both of you shaking your heads, a little unsure of this man's motives. 

“Alright, how ‘bout… No Holds Barred fightin’?”

“Yeah.” you answer quickly, earning you a nod from him. Of course you’d heard of it, you were practically raised on it.

“Well, somethin’ like that. Real private, underground type of settin’. Think up in those there bigger cities the folks call it ‘MMA’. Got people buyin’ in, bettin’ on these fights. We ain’t talkin’ no small buy in’s neither. This is big cash. Life changin’ money.” he says, raising a brow. 

“Been lookin’ for myself a few boys to travel ‘round.” he pauses. “I think you two got the grit, and the need.”

“The need…” Jake presses.

“I know that Teddy character, he ain’t never gonna let you get ahead. But son, this is yer chance.” 

“So, you want me and Jake to come…fight, and if we win said fights we get paid?” you ask, genuinely trying to piece this together. 

“Exactly. We can work out the details, but roughly, you travel ‘round to these hosted fights, you fight favorably, we both walk home with our pockets lined.” he says. 

“And how do we know, you’re trustworthy?” Jake asks. “I’ve got a life and a livin’ to make here. Bills lined up till kingdom come and they don’t pay themselves.”

“It’d be a fight here and there, every week or two with a rest period to recover yer health and bodies. Yeh’d have time at yer shop, so it’d be unsuspectin’. That’s the point son. Don’t want the heat findin’ out ‘bout it.” he says, and you start to feel uneasy. 

“Seems…I don’t know. Why us? There’s gotta be people better suited than us…” you barter.

“Well truthfully Daniel, I’ve had my eye on you since you was ‘bout 17. Heard ‘bout the fightin’ from some folks, kept an eye on yeh. And Jacob, I know you learned from ‘em. Watched yeh myself just the other night. Ye’ve got somethin’, and I’m willin’ to take a chance on you boys if you’re willin’ to take a chance on me. If it doesn’t work out, well, hell we tried, still let you two walk away with a few hundred each for yer troubles.”

You see Jake’s brow furrow, and you know he’s considering it. You know this debt is crippling the shop, the two of you barely scraping by every week. You know this could be your chance. The only other thing you’ve ever been good at. “We gotta decide right now?” you ask, sending him a questioning look. 

“No’sir. I’ll be in town ‘nother few days, got some outstanding business. First fight ain't for another week ‘er so over in Kirksville.” he says, reaching into his pocket again, pulling out a paper business card. Jake takes it from his fingers, reading over it before handing it to you. 

“Now, you fellas think this over, give me a call once you’ve come to a decision.” he says, tipping his head. “Oh, and, for what it’s worth…” he pauses, “These buy in’s… is in the thousands range. My last fighter took home 4 grand in one night, for 5 minutes effort. Just somethin’ to consider.” and with that he slides into his idling car.

As the car pulls off in a cloud of exhaust Jake turns to you, his jaw slack and his face riddled with shock and question. “What the fuck…What was that? Wh–What do we do?”

You turn to look at him, shoving your hands in your pockets, and sucking your teeth, “Sounds like we fight.”

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[archangeldyke-all]

okay, here goes! One BSAA agent Sevika request as promised - I'm sorry if its too long and not very good, I'm still getting back into the flow of regular writing but thank you for showcasing on your blog, as a big fan of yours it means a lot! - Starlight

(I'm rubbish at tagging, but there are mentions of bioterrorism, outbreaks of fictional infection, creatures, death and loss of family members, loss of a pet, please add more if I've forgotten any)

Sevika was a gym rat before the outbreak, worked as a personal trainer at her local gym.

Pointedly ignored her father’s demands she join Raccoon City PD, just like him and her younger brother.

She knew she probably would eventually join up; thought she had all the time in the world to make her mind up.

Then the T-Virus happened.

Her father and brother were killed trying to battle the infected in the streets. Sevika lost everything during those awful days, even her dog.

She made it out during the evacuation, moving from place to place, joining up with any anti-bioterrorism group who will have her.

She never talks about Raccoon City, and people know better than to ask her about it.

By the time she meets one Chris Redfield, she’s lethal. Her hand-to-hand combat and weapons training have been meticulously honed.

Chris likes her immediately. Watching Sevika go toe-to-toe with a Hunter, and winning, he knew this woman had to join his squad.

During a mission gone bad, she loses an arm to a Licker. Chris sees to it personally through his BSAA connections that she’s fitted with a state of the art prosthetic.

She meets you in the floating city of Terragrigia and for the first time in a long time, the world suddenly doesn’t feel so grim.

She’s a typical BSAA agent, striding around in her combat gear like she owns the place, always on the lookout for danger. Her not so typical prosthetic is a glossy black, and she keeps it immaculate so it’s always glinting in the sun.

You’re a no nonsense bartender who knows her whiskey, with a piercing stare that quashes any trouble and a dazzling smile that nearly has her missing her mouth and spilling whiskey down her front.

She frequents the bar you work in, many BSAA agents do. One night, when you slide her usual whiskey over to her, she smirks, writes down her number on the little napkin then saunters over to her BSAA buddies as you gape after her.

Your first few dates are casual, she takes you out for coffee, to the cinema. She holds your hands, kisses you gently after each date. By date number four or five, it seems her patience has finally worn thin when she grabs you after dinner and presses you against the door of your apartment. The kiss is intense, too much and not enough, filled with the sultry promise of what’s to come. That night, she breaks your bedframe and apologises profusely, but she’s not sorry really, not when she smirks as she watches you walk shakily around your apartment the morning after.

After 5 months, you find yourself moving into her apartment.

She takes the same breakfast every day, oatmeal and black coffee. She’s pleasantly surprised when you start adding some ‘pizzazz’ to her oatmeal, some blueberries here, a sprinkle of cinnamon, even caramelised apples. She rolls her eyes and grumbles that ‘plain oatmeal does the job just fine’ but she’s getting worse and worse at hiding her smile.

She has terrible nightmares. She never seems to wake from them, calling for her father, her brother, her dog Finn. All you can do is wrap your arms around her, soothing her by speaking softly in her ear, stroking her hair. She relaxes now when she feels you, but her arms always tighten around you, the only person she isn’t willing to fathom losing.

When the Terragrigia Panic starts, and hundreds of Hunters are released into the city in the worst act of bioterrorism the world has seen, Sevika has only one goal: find you.

She fights her way out of the BSAA HQ, races to your apartment just to find it empty. She sinks to her knees, she thinks ‘not again’ but then she hears your frightened whimpers coming from the bedroom closet.

When she tears open that closet door to find you curled up inside, one of her handguns clutched in your trembling hand, she almost breaks down crying. But she stays strong, for you. She gathers you up in her arms, kisses you so fiercely you stop thinking and then she gets you out of there.

An armoured BSAA escort is awaiting, and yet again Sevika manages to escape the chaos with her life, and something far more precious to her.

A Hunter tries to attack while everyone’s getting loaded into the vehicles and you watch with equal amounts horror, morbid fascination, pride and let’s be real, horny as Sevika roars and punches the creature square in the face.

Chris shakes his head, grinning and you can’t seem to pick your jaw up off the floor. Sevika quirks an eyebrow at the both of you as the convoy pulls away from the carnage unfolding, the BSAA having been ordered to withdraw. “What? Nobody comes at me or my girl without catching hands, Hunter or not!”

Chris says nothing, and all you can mumble through your daze as Sevika wraps you in her warm arms is “I think I need to come with you on some missions…for science.”

THIS IS AMAZING omg i've never played this game before but this fic is making me want to holy shit. i'm so excited to see what else you come up with in the future!!!!! woah. this was so good!!!!

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[collegeishardbutwritingisharder]

Yandere Leona Kingscholar x Little Brother Reader headcanons/short story(?)

Okay, I have actually two ideas for this one. Let's hope that I can make this understandable and well written.

Warnings: Yandere and probably OOC again. I'm not certain. Plus this ended up longer because of my ideas. Apologies.

Leona Kingscholar

There are two ways that being the little brother of Leona can go and it depends on your personality.

A: if your personality matches his own or B: if your personality is more like Cheka/Falena (I looked this up and was shocked. His name is with an l, not an r).

Let's start with situation A.

When you were younger, like Leona, you weren't given much positive attention.

Normally what would happen during your infant years, nobody would come to tend to you. You would be thirsty, hungry and dirty for hours before your crying got onto people's nerves that they would give you what you wanted.

This led to you being a lot more irritable and naturally more aggressive towards others. Especially when your teen years hit.

You've become more brutish, people are naturally afraid of you and in all honesty, you don't really care.

You might be at the bottom of the family line but you're given respect by the strength that you display.

Despite you being four years younger than Leona, there have been multiple times where you were able to fight against Falena and Leona together and ended up winning the fight.

There have been whispers going around the palace that your parents were planning to appoint you general of a fleet in the army.

Your magic was also nothing to turn a blind eye to.

"Survival of the Fittest" drains the energy of your opponent(s), leaving a heaving, weak mess on the floor. It takes about two hours before you can use it again but if it's carefully timed, it can be a game changer.

But that's enough backstory, now, when you get to NRC, you're immediately put into Savanaclaw with your brother as your dorm leader.

"Great, I'm stuck with you. Make sure you don't drag down the dorm with you."

"I wasn't planning on it. I'm not you after all."

Yeah, your relationship with your brothers has always been quite strained, considering how much raw talent you truly had.

Your time at NRC was pretty decent. You actually were able to make friends who weren't completely scared of you. That might have been for the fact that they had no idea who you truly were.

"Yo! (Y/N)! Over here!"

I turned my head to see Ace, Deuce, Yuu and Grim sitting by an apple tree. Ace was waving like a mad man trying to get my attention. I felt a slight smile appear on my face while I jogged over.

"Hey. What's going on?"

"We're trying to figure out all of the weird happenings with the injuries. They don't appear to be normal" Yuu said, their face in their hands.

"Hmm, not normal accidents? Who have been the targets so far?"

"Mostly people that have a high chance of being good in the Spelldrive tournament."

"Which dorms?"

"All of them. Well, except for Savanaclaw and Diasomnia it seems."

I gave it some thought before a terrifying thought crossed my mind. I remember Leona casually mentioning a certain hyena's unique magic.

"Ruggie Bucchi."

"Hah!?"

"What?!"

"Pardon me?"

"Ruggie Bucchi. Second year member of Savanaclaw. He is the person that you should inspect."

The trio looked at themselves before giving me a smile.

"Thanks for the help, (Y/N)! We owe you one! Now, let's go get Dorm leader Rosehearts and catch this punk!"

"Not a problem."

The trio then ran away from you to go check out where Ruggie was.

You personally couldn't believe how low your brother sunk. Cheating by injuring others just to win at Spelldrive. You needed to have a talk with him.

Making your way to the botanical garden, knowing that Leona was most likely sleeping there.

You searched for him. You didn't find his body but you did find his tail.

You yanked his tail as hard as you could, effectively waking him up.

"You've got a death wish, do you know that?"

"Yeah, I've had a death wish since I was born. Now, you and I are going to have a talk about your cheating."

"What 'cheating'?"

Leona put air quotes around cheating, taunting you with a smirk. He always like to play dumb with you.

"You're sending Ruggie out to harm those who might pose a threat to Savanaclaw winning the Spelldrive tournament."

"Oh yeah? What proof do you have of us doing that?"

"It's called growing up with you. You've always cheated your way to things when you realized that nobody cares how much effort you put in."

Leona's smirk fell. He seems to forget that I've lived with him for years. Next thing that I knew, we were fighting once again, crushing plants and ruining projects.

"You're too self righteous for a first year, (Y/N)."

"And you're too selfish to be a decent dorm leader."

I successfully kicked him off of me, sending him flying against one of the plant walls, getting to my feet.

"Your desire to win will be your downfall, brother. You-"

I felt something hit my head before falling unconscious. How did I let someone sneak up on me?

When you came to, you were back in your dorm room.

Your dorm mates were there as well but they seemed to be more on edge and aggressive towards you.

They forced you down on the bed, telling you that you were under room arrest until the Spelldrive tournament was over.

Of course, you started kicking and punching to get to your door, to prevent something awful from happening but sadly, you can only do so much when you're without your mage stone.

So, you waited under dorm arrest until the tournament was over.

When night fell, your dorm mates came back looking as if they were kicked puppies and you asked teasingly how it went.

They talked about everything: Leona's overblot, all of the dorms' rage and how Diasomnia thoroughly kicked our butts.

They also didn't complain when you left your room to go find Leona. But you also weren't expecting to run into Cheka either.

"Unca (Y/N)!"

Cheka ran up to me and jumped into my arms and I gave him a little spin.

"Hey there, kiddo. Where's your father?"

"He's talking with Unca Leona right now! He also gave me permission to run around the building!"

"Ah, is that why you're without your retainers right now? You, my dear nephew, are going to be in so much trouble."

"Hehehehe~! I don't care!"

Cheka, the sunshine child, can lift anybody's mood. I quickly picked him up and put him on top of my shoulders.

"Let's go for a little run around Savanaclaw. Does that sound like fun?"

"Yeah!"

After about two hours of running around Savanclaw, Falena and Leona found both of you playing on the outdoor gym equipment.

Falena said his hellos before collecting his son and leaving Savanaclaw. Cheka gave his goodbye kisses before leaving you and Leona outside alone.

"Were you going to tell me what happened?"

Leona just stayed silent, not wanting to admit his failure.

"Ever the prideful one, aren't you, Leona? You don't have to share the story, my dorm mates already told me everything."

"Those cowards..."

I kept staring at Leona in amusement until he looked over at me. He seemed to have... regrets? I've never seen him look so regretful before.

"Well, you seemed to be tormenting yourself over it enough. I won't put more salt into your wound. Good night, Leona."

I started to make my way back to my dorm before Leona grabbed my wrist out of nowhere. I stopped in my tracks, trying to figure out what Leona wanted.

"Why are you happy?"

"Huh? Repeat that please?"

"I said, why are you happy!? You've been treated worse than I have in my life and yet, you seemed to be more or less satisfied with what you've been given! So, why!?"

Leona had some tears pricking his eyes which really threw me off. Regret looked weird enough, now, he's close to crying.

"I-I don't know! Maybe because I'm not trying to chase a fantasy!"

"I'm not chasing a fantasy!"

"Yes, you are! You've been chasing a fantasy the moment you've been born! You can't be king, Leona!"

Leona just froze when I yelled that out. I started to regret shouting that. Nobody has really just told him upfront that he can't do something. Normally, people beat around the bush and that was it. I could see the anger welling up in Leona. My nerves started setting alarms off. He just had an overblot. He's already had an emotional outburst, what would happen if I pushed too hard again?

Leona only tightened his grip around my wrist and I felt my bones start to bend. I immediately tried to get my wrist free but I wasn't succeeding. The bone snapped and I let out a yelp of pain. I wasn't used to this.

"If I can't be happy, then you can't be happy either."

Once again, I felt my world go black. What is with me and getting knocked out easily!?

When you came back again, you thought that you were going to be back in your dorm but instead, you were in a room that you weren't familiar with.

You could tell that you were back home in the Sunset Savana but where exactly? You couldn't tell.

The room was pretty small. The bed takes up a corner of the room and there is a desk, a dresser and two doors.

Getting up, you check the desk to find writing utensils and books. The dresser had your clothes in it. The first door was locked, which you guessed was the exit because the other door led to the bathroom.

Going back to the first door, you tried to break it down but you learned quickly that it was metal that only looked like wood. The painters did a good job.

Deciding that the best option was to wait for Leona to come and let you out. You didn't realize how long it would feel like. Without a clock and no real forms of entertainment, you had no idea how long you've been in the room for.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Leona came through the door and you immediately started asking and demanding things from him. Mostly answers.

He answered nothing. Just telling you that this would be where you live for the rest of your life and that you should be grateful for it. You just rolled your eyes.

Leona had to be joking. You knew that he had to be joking. Heck, he even had rules for this. That's how much he planned this awful joke.

You tried to get up and get past Leona to go through the door when you felt a searing pain in your neck.

Leona then dragged you back to the bed, letting you recover from the pain.

"WHAT WAS THAT?!"

"Obviously, you weren't listening to me when I told you you can't leave."

"WELL, YEAH! LOCKING YOUR BROTHER UP IS JUST INSANE!"

"Then let me make this clearer, you're going to listen to me because you're my little brother."

"You're actually insane. I should've known the moment that you started tearing up."

"If I'm insane, I'm going to drag you down with me."

And that's where I'm going to leave that half. I honestly might write better stories for the brothers but for now, short stories!

Now, onto part B if you're still here after that mess:

Your upbringing is very similar to part A as in you were neglected but instead of being angry about it, you found solace elsewhere.

Despite being a lion beast man, you felt no need to actually hunt or just attack in general.

You were very kind, even to those who were mean and snickered mean words behind your back.

Thanks to your helpful nature and overall kindness, you quickly became the staff's favorite prince and since you couldn't stand the suffering of others, you used the riches that were given at birth to help those who are less fortunate.

You were an icon to those who grew up in the slums of the Sunset Savana.

Falena was proud of you while Leona resented you for your nature.

You tried many times to improve Leona's life by giving him a shoulder to lean on or an ear to listen but he wanted nothing to do with you.

Now, you might be thinking that you're going to go to RSA. That's actually not the case. You were invited to go to NRC because of your unique magic.

While most unique magics fit the owner, yours was close to the opposite.

"Obey Me" would force whoever you had in your sights to obey your every word. (It's sort of like Snake Whisper but for the fact that nobody can dodge it unless they are out of your sight.) Magic coils around your arms and drains at a decent pace, telling you how much time you have left and if you use all of your magic on it, you end up K.O.ing yourself.

You were quite nervous for your first day at NRC. You stepped up to the mirror and it told you that you belong to Octavinelle.

"Welcome! We're happy to have you join our dorm!" Azul Ashengrotto, your new dorm leader, said, spreading his arms open.

"Pleasure to be a part of it."

"Ehhh~ You're supposed to be with us~? How weird~"

"Hehehehe, I'm certain that you'll spice our dorm up no problem, (Y/N)."

I took a deep breath and quickly swallowed the ever growing ball of saliva that was growing in the back of my throat. The looks of the dorm leader and these twins were putting me on edge.

I turned my head to look at my brother just to see him trying to fall asleep in his chair. Ah, Leona, will you ever change?

Octavinelle was actually a decent choice for you!

You may not have agreed with how Azul chose to handle his 'benevolence' but he didn't stop you from showing yours.

You were quickly declared an Octavinelle treasure by the dorm members for the fact that you were always willing to help and sacrifice anything, just to make another's life easier.

It wasn't as if you were hurting from it either. You knew how to balance your life from the time that you started to help those who were less unfortunate than yourself.

Being a part of Octavinelle also didn't stop you from going over to Savanaclaw (Much to Azul's dismay) to see your brother.

You and Ruggie became close friends due to the fact that you were actually someone who Ruggie has looked up to for the past few years of his life and also with the fact that you're willing to help him wrangle Leona when he refuses to go to class.

"Thanks again for helping me find Leona again, (Y/N). He's actually starting to put effort into finding hiding places around campus."

"It's not a problem, Ruggie. He's probably doing it so that he doesn't have to deal with me nagging him over and over again to go to class."

"Yeah, LEONA! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"LEONA! YOU'RE NEEDED!"

Ruggie and I ended up finding Leona in one of the pockets that were in Heartslabyul's rose maze.

"How did Riddle let him in?"

"Bold of you to assume that he asked permission."

I moved towards Leona after picking a rose from the nearest bush. I held it close to his nose and started lightly shaking it.

Leona's nose started to twitch and eventually, he had an explosive sneeze which woke him up. He looked at Ruggie and I before he tackled me to the ground.

"You have a lot of guts to wake me up in such a way."

"Well, I needed to get creative considering you have class and also with the fact that you said and I quote, "If you touch me to wake me up again, you'll lose your arms"."

Leona's glare sharpened and his grip on my arms tightened to the point where bruises were going to form. After about ten seconds of a stare down, Leona loosened up before just collapsing down onto me.

"Leona, what are you doing?"

"Shut up. For waking me up in that manner, you're now my pillow for the rest of the day."

"Leona, you have class."

"Shut it."

"He's in one of his moods again. Ruggie, you can go. He won't be getting up now."

"Are you sure, (Y/N)?"

"Yeah, I'll watch over him."

"Didn't I tell both of you to shut it?"

Ruggie then closed his mouth before running off into the maze once again. I lightly waved at him before directing my attention back to my brother. Leona, you're always going to be a handful, aren't you?

Thankfully, being Leona's pillow wasn't much of a punishment to you anymore. He used to do it when you were smaller and in a bad mood.

You made sure to see Leona at least once a day to make sure that he wasn't causing too much trouble for Ruggie or just to make sure that he was doing okay.

But life got horribly in the way for one week. Azul needed a server to work certain hours for an entire week and you were the only person whose classes didn't clash with that schedule. Azul was very close to begging you to take the position, promising you plenty of things that you didn't need.

"Please, (Y/N)! There is no telling what will happen to the Mostro Lounge! I'll give you plenty of pay, study guides, anything!"

Azul was really panicked. I've never seen him this wound up before. I put my hand slightly in front of me to get him to stop rambling. Thankfully, it seemed to have worked.

"I'm willing to do your hours. You don't have to get me anything though."

Azul seemed shocked by my answer. I honestly thought that his eyes were going to pop out of his skull.

"Y-y-you're serious?! You're just willing to work?!"

"Yes! Of course! You're my dorm leader after all! I'm just happy that I'll be able to assist you."

Thus started one of the busiest weeks of your life.

You were working at the Mostro Lounge any time that you weren't in class. Thankfully, during the five minute breaks that you were given, you were able to finish your homework for your classes.

Azul was very thankful for your efforts. Ever since you started serving, it seemed that more and more customers came to the lounge. You just had that charisma about you.

When the week of just pure working was done, you just nearly collapsed on your bed and nearly passed out. You were actually going to do that if it wasn't for a knock on your door.

Letting out a groan of protest, you head over to the door and open it to see Ruggie standing there, looking worse for wear.

"Ruggie? What happened? Why do you look as if you've been sent to the netherworld and were forced to crawl your way back by yourself?"

"Leona. He's been running the entire dorm ragged for the past three days. Please! Come and try to talk some sense into him!"

Ruggie had the same desperation that Azul had at the start of the week. Leona was actually enforcing his rule over his dorm? What has gotten into him?

"Okay, let me just quickly get changed out of my uniform."

"Thank you, (Y/N)!"

You've never seen Savanaclaw in a worse condition before.

Sure, it was a savanna but there weren't even living trees anymore! Everything seemed to have lost life and was just getting worse by the second.

Ruggie was quick to try and get me to Leona. All of the Savanaclaw dorm members seemed to be really hungry and miserable. Even Jack was looking insanely tired. When you came into their line of view, they immediately perked up, like you were some sort of savior.

Ruggie basically pushed you into Leona's room before closing the door behind you, leaving you with your older brother.

Leona also looked quite different. No longer did he really give off lazy, apathetic vibes. He seemed to have an air about him that made your tail go between your legs.

Another surprising thing was the fact that Leona wasn't lying on his bed, instead he was standing and looking out his window. He then turned his head towards you and his eyes scared you.

His eyes were completely void of any strong emotion. It's like someone just drained Leona of who he is.

"Where were you."

Leona's voice reminded me of our father whenever one of us would disobey him. He was angry and an angry Leona was never a good sign.

"I was busy at the Mostro Lounge and my classes."

"Why."

"W-well, Azul asked for my he-"

"Grrr, that cephalopunk... Next time, he asks you for help, you're going to say no."

"Pardon me?"

"I know that you heard me."

I haven't seen Leona like this in a while. He's actually acting like a king.

"You do understand that Azul is my dorm leader, right?"

"And if he makes a mistake that only you can fix, just let him struggle to fix it himself."

"I can't do that with a good conscience."

"That's why as your older brother, I'm ordering you to never help that cephalopunk again."

"Wow, you're acting a lot like Falena right now."

"Zip it. I've already contacted Crowley and got his tail into high gear. Starting tomorrow, you're going to be a part of Savanaclaw."

"What?! You can't do that!"

"I already have. This is so I can keep a closer eye on you and who you hang out with. You're my little brother after all. It's my job to protect you."

[passivenovember]

Happy Valentines Day!

Dedicated to my babies over in the smut cave. Thanks for making everyday so saturated in horniness that I can’t feel anything but love. You’re the best.

And to @cherrydreamer , who is so good I’m pretty sure God could learn a thing or two.

--

Steve’s not his boyfriend. Billy ties honesty around each wrist to keep himself in place whenever things start to feel a little too much like a roll of party balloons.

And they always do, with Steve. Because Steve’s an idiot.

He’s full of shining romance. He parks the Beemer outside Billy’s house every morning before school even though Billy’s got a car because Steve hopes, against all hope, that Billy will roll over and be his girlfriend.

That he’ll let Steve hold his hand and carry his books and allow Steve to drive them to school. Billy and Max, fighting over the radio station and tracking mud onto the floors while Steve grins like a moron.

Harrington has a death wish disguised as chivalry.

Because even though Billy aims to chew his head off and Neil would probably bury them both alive if he ever caught on, Steve climbs through bedroom windows and tucks notes onto mattress pillows and in between the slots of lockers because he’s got flowers growing out his ass.

Love’s gonna win out, for him.

Billy doesn’t get it. 

The hope. The peppery, love-sick gestures. He could pick them by the handful, each colored for a different moronic display of Steve’s lingering affection. 

And it’s not that Billy hates flowers, it’s just. 

It’s spring. 

It’s the promise of the days getting longer and air gusting warmer and the hope that even though he’s still living like a stoned crab under the ever-present weight of his father, Billy could relax into Steve’s attention and summer will drape itself over the land. 

If he just gave in, July would burn hot on his shoulder blades.

–

Billy doesn’t give in. 

He can’t.

He could lie and say it’s all part of some rude awakening. He’ll take Steve’s dick up his ass, down his throat, blooming like cactus blossoms between both hands, but he doesn’t love him.

But, turns out, as January melts into six more weeks of winter and Heather’s warning that this thing between Billy and Steve’ll vanish as soon as the ground starts to thaw, Steve gets restless.

Billy can’t blame him. Knows they’ve both got a lesbian ear-worm chewing their confidence to shit. 

Heather urges Billy to stop being such a piranha and Robin tells Steve he’s gonna get his heart smashed and tossed like a new penny into the ocean. Lost. Forgotten on its descent to the bottom of the hapless sea. 

And to be honest, no one’s ever been able to guess why Steve chose this. Billy, in all his pathetic glory. 

But he did. He picked Billy like a thorn from his side.

And they hammer themselves into something like the mockery of a relationship because that’s what people do. They fuck. They smoke pot and dry hump and fuck again, each chewing on the idea that maybe this won’t last. 

Billy’s good at ignoring it and Heather and himself until the weekend before Valentines Day. 

Steve pulls out of him. Rolls onto his back and says, “You never gaze at me,” even though his spunk is cooling the sheets under Billy’s naked thighs.

Billy shifts on the pillow, blowing smoke at the ceiling so it won’t end up in Steve’s eyes.

Steve won’t look at him.

He’s got the sheets tucked up around his chest, arms crossed over their slick face like he’s ashamed of himself, maybe, for the first time ever. Regretful of Billy. Of this thing between them.

Billy frowns. “I don’t do what?”

“You don’t gaze at me,” Steve tells him, Adam’s Apple bobbing like he needs a cool drink. “Y’know. Like when you see a pretty girl–”

“Don’t like girls, remember?”

“Okay, then,” Steve rolls onto his side, propping himself seriously on one elbow. “Say it’s a cute guy. Handsome.”

“Alright.”

“When you see a handsome guy, you know? In a nice car, do you ever–”

“Is it a fast car?”

Steve blinks. “Does it matter?”

“‘Course it does,” Billy sucks on his smoke again, teasing, “Fast car’s a sign of taste. And to be able to afford that kinda car you’ve gotta have money. And in my experience, any guy with money’s got a cock on him.”

“Every guy’s got a cock.”

“Yeah, but not every cock’s a good one,” Billy winks, “Ain’t that right, Rolls Royce?”

Steve turns red, all the way down his chest. Billy has the familiar urge to pin him to the mattress and lick at his nipples, see if they taste like strawberry jam when he blushes like that.

But Steve’s eyebrows are threaded together. Serious, when he says, “You’re saying the only thing that’d trap you in a gaze is a nice car?”

Billy shrugs. “I don’t gaze.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“I could, though,” Billy looks over at him, guilty for the thrill that rolls through him at the sight of Steve, naked and pissed off. “If we’re talking about a fast car, and a rich guy, and a nice cock–”

“Forget it,” Steve snaps, sitting until the sheets pool around his waist. “Forget I said anything, alright?” Harrington jostles the bed, swinging his legs over one side. He reaches for his pants, tugging them on so roughly Billy’s worried he’ll give himself rug burn. 

Billy puffs on his cigarette. “Where you going, pretty boy?”

“Gotta piss.”

“You’re putting clothes on for that?”

Steve drops his pants as if they’ve caught fire. “Maybe I’ll leave.”

Billy snorts. “You live here.”

“Well, I’m not gonna kick you out,” Steve snaps. Annoyed. He’s never been this irritated with Billy before. So pressed he won’t even look at him.

Steve always looks at him. 

Gazes. 

It’s not a great feeling.

Billy props himself against the headboard, trying to backtrack whatever landmine he ate shit over. Steve’s seething on the edge of the mattress, so far away he might as well be in Asia. So close Billy can map the constellations between his shoulder blades. “Come here,” Billy says softly.

Steve shakes his head. 

“Steve.”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes.”

“I know,” Billy pinches the butt between his teeth. “Come here anyway.”

One moment yawns into the next and then Steve’s toes follow each other back onto the mattress. He tucks under the sheets, eyes tacked to the ceiling. 

“What,” Steve says. Taught and fragile. Bitchy.

Billy chokes on a swell of something. Swallows it down. “You don’t wanna cuddle?” He asks, exactly how Steve always does. Batting his eyelashes where he knows Harrington can see. 

But Steve won’t budge. He crosses his arms. “Tell me what you want and I’ll consider it.”

And Billy. 

He’s a pro at flipping the script. At hiding in plain sight. He’s been pretending to want this and nothing more if it means he’ll get Steve. A couple nights a week fucking in a bed he never sleeps in, watching every flash of desperate pleasure on Harrington’s face because there’s no chance he’ll run into the weight of anything when he’s caught in orgasm land. 

Billy doesn’t say the only time he feels good is when Steve comes. Doesn’t own up to the way it gets him through the swell of night, the memory of being so close to someone who’s good because it’s his nature. 

Steve never has to try. He’s perfect.

And Billy isn’t ready to admit anything. That he recognizes it. Feels Steve’s brilliance like a twisting knife in the back; Tell me what you want–

Billy clears his throat. “Do you want me to leave?”

The possibility makes him nauseous. Steve takes the cigarette that’s handed to him, perfect plush lips closing around the butt of the thing.

“Tell me, baby. I’ll go right now. You’ll never have to see me again–”

“God, you’re a dumbass, too, you know that?” Steve hands the cigarette over, jaw tense. “If I wanted you gone I would’ve kicked you out forever ago.”

“You. You mean tonight, or–”

“Yeah,” Steve tells him softly. “Months before that. Before I fell in love with you.”

Billy chews on their cigarette and watches Steve in between puffs. The way his lashes flutter when he’s trying not to give the side eye. 

Billy feels haunted. By everything. His future. The way Steve’s so free with his words and his truth, tossing them at Billy like red roses and rotting tomatoes. Steve says he loves him, and Billy’s heard it before. Steve’s sentiment gets lost in the roiling anger that makes Billy who he is. 

But tonight, it’s silenced.

Steve’s I love you’s have that effect on him. Cutting all the noise from the sky as his attention drapes over Billy like the lid of a coffin. Like sunlight, too. 

Daylight.

Billy turns to face him, his wrist cracking under the weight of his head. “Do you want me to gaze at you more?” He asks.  

Steve chews on a mouthful of smoke and then blows it at the ceiling until it looks like a cloud.

A bunny or an anvil. Something.

“I could,” Billy says. “You’ve got everything that grabs my attention, you know?”

“What? Money and cars and–”

“Yeah, but. It’s not only that shit, I was. I was kidding.”

Steve blinks. “You were kidding?”

“Mostly.”

“Mostly,” Steve says, as if tasting the caramel drop word on his tongue. He shifts on the mattress, glancing over and away again. Teasing. “Alright. What else about me grabs your attention?”

“You’re really gonna make me spell it out for you? Itemized list style?”

Steve’s demeanor falls flat again. A punctured balloon trickling from the sky. “Never mind,” He says, “Forget it. You obviously don’t feel the same about me as I do about you–”

“You make me laugh, okay?” Billy spits. 

He swallows thickly. Fiddles with the lip of the sheets. His words burn like acid. He’s cut to the bone. 

“I like the way you drum on your knee when there’s a song you dig. You have passions. You read, but you’re not very good at it. You help me study even though you mispronounce everything. You’re kind.”

And suddenly, Steve’s looking at him. Through him, too, past every swirling atom, toggling layers of bullshit and titanium walls meant to keep everyone out.

But under the cosmic starfall of Steve’s gaze and his attention and his love–

Billy’s walls never stood a chance.

“I like you,” Billy grits. 

There. 

He said it. He told the truth and now Harrington can out a lid on those eyes and stop looking at Billy like he ran over the family dog–

“You mean it?” Steve asks.

As if Billy’s saying something else. Like he’s admitting to a crime, or accepting a ticket to go anywhere in the universe.

Billy frowns, not understanding. “I guess so.”

Steve watches him for another endless, yawning moment. “Prove it.” He says, and finishes the cigarette.

–

It’s kind of how Max was, in that weird space between Billy’s first I’m Sorry and where they are now. 

Billy had to work for it because Billy has to work for everything. It’s like purgatory. Paying out of pocket for all the shit he’s done wrong in his life. 

Steve says, “prove it,” and Billy doesn’t really believe him at first. 

They aren’t together. Billy isn’t his fucking girlfriend, and Steve’s old enough that he’s supposed to have stopped wishing for grand gestures. 

Doesn’t he know that shit isn’t real? That husbands get their wives flowers because they got caught fucking their secretaries, and boyfriends only tuck fuzzy animals into their girlfriends arms to apologize for getting drunk and covering her in bruises?

But the more Billy turns it over in his hands, the more he realizes he should’ve seen this coming.

Steve’s got a pension for anything sappy and romantic. 

He goes hog wild for John Huges and sets money aside for February 15th, when all the Valentine’s candy is on sale. He sings the Ronettes at the top of his lungs when Billy’s pissed off, wiggling his hips and begging Billy to be his little baby. 

Steve pretends not to trace love hearts on storefront windows. He ignores thoughts of dinner reservations and avoids all conversation of expensive springtime bouquets until someone asks his opinion, and suddenly Steve’s a florist. 

Last year he even helped Max and her Nerdy friends plan a romantic double date night, complaining all the while even though he made Billy hide with him in the back room so they could spy–

And.

It hits Billy like a freight train.

“No,” Billy tells himself. He shakes his head, curls catching obnoxiously on the pillow beneath him. “No way–”

He’s not asking the Nerd Squad for help/

He’d never hear the end of it. They’d roast him alive and it would cost him every cent in his California fund. Curly top would accuse him, all over again, of not being suave or good or smart enough for someone like Steve, and the rest would co-sign without ever saying a word, and–

No.

Billy isn’t going to put himself through that type of ego-death all for a pair of legs, and that’s final.

But just as he starts to doze off, dreams lapping at his toes like warm ocean water, Billy settles with the fact that he has no other choice.

It’s his ego or Steve, and if Billy doesn’t play this right he’ll never love again.

–

“He says you never gaze at him?”

Billy digs his nails into his palm. “That’s what I said.”

“Steve’s kind of confusing.”

“You’re telling me.”

“I mean, it’s so weird,” Max’s shoes thump against the base of the couch, filling their empty house on Cherry lane with music. “You throw plenty of gaze at him.”

“I know, right?”

“You are gay-ze,” Max teases.

And if Billy were any less desperate, he might stick a wet thumb in her ear for that one. But he’s on his last leg. He’s tearing his curls out by the root. He’s climbing the walls, he’s–

Max frowns. “Tough crowd.”

“It was funny,” Billy tries, smile stiff and unnatural. “I was gonna laugh, but–”

“But you’re worried if you don’t do something grand and rom-com perfect Steve’ll dump you.”

Billy glares at her. “There’s nothing to dump. We aren’t dating.”

“Sure,” Max says slyly. 

She’s such a little shit. She’s the worst.

Billy bites against the urge to bully her. To pinch her arm and revert back to his old self to get what he wants out of the situation.

Max shrugs her knobby little shoulders and admits, “Steve’s not that hard to romance.”

Billy drops the act entirely. “How the fuck would you know that?”

“When he helped Lucas and Mike plan our double-date last year he gave this obnoxious speech about how girls pretend like we want diamonds and flashy declarations, but really it’s the thought that counts.”

But. “Steve’s not a girl,” Billy thunks his head on the back of the couch, exhausted.

This is bullshit.

This is so difficult–

“It’s not like you could afford to do anything obnoxious even if you wanted to,” Max tells him. 

And Billy gets that it’s meant to be reassuring.

Steve was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Anything he wants he can get for himself, including expensive bouquets and five-star dinners. Hell, he could get himself off, too. Doesn’t need Billy for anything. Not really. 

But that’s half the trouble.

If Billy can’t live up to the Valentine's Steve can plan for himself, he doesn’t know why he’s trying. 

Why he’s losing sleep, sick to his stomach over the thought that this might be it.

“Stop spiraling,” Max sits on the coffee table in front of him, knocking their toes together until Billy pins her with a heat-less glare. “When you imagine a perfect day with Steve–”

“I’m not talking about this with you.”

“Why? Max demands, “Because it involves a lot of open mouthed kisses?”

“Just tell me what you think he would like.”

“A handjob, probably.”

Billy sits ramrod straight. “Max, let’s watch the mouth.”

“Don’t take it out on me. I’m pretty sure that’s what every guy wants.”

“Steve’s not every guy, he’s. He’s fucking perfect and he was born in a castle and he’s always had anything he’s ever wanted and I’m a piece of shit–” 

“Billy, you’re fine,” Max tells him. Because, of course, she sees right through Billy’s vitriol.

He’s made of glass.

He’s a window. A crystal slipper, plummeting to its brain-shattered death.

Max knocks their toes together again. “Even if you served him a burnt pot of macaroni on a dirty plate, tucked over a sticky dining room table, he’d love it.”

“Why,” Billy snaps, “Because it’s me.”

“Because it’s you,” She says, eyes blue and earnest. “Now, walk me through your perfect date.”

–

In the end, mop top and the wheeler kid think it’s sweet that Billy’s trying in the first place.

They give him his blessing.

On February 14th, a day that’s so cloud-covered and rain drenched that Billy almost wants to call the whole parade off and stay in bed until the sun rises red and new, Steve’s dorks manage to get him out of the house.

His parents are in Rome, because.

Of course they’re in Rome. The city of love.

And Billy’s been shaking hard enough to cause an Earthquake since the second he got into the shower this morning, but Max smiles and says, “Tonight, Hawkins is the most romantic place in the world.”

So Billy chooses hope.

They light candles. They decorate. Billy orders heart-shaped pizza because he’d probably give them food poisoning if he tried to cook, and suddenly it’s 5:00.

The dorks clear out.

When the front door opens, Steve runs headfirst into a hallway covered in wilting daisy petals. He’s immediately tangled in the strings of four stubborn Get Well balloons because Max tried her best.

He drops his shopping bags when he sees the candles.

He almost brains it on the stairs, because Billy’s waiting in a suit, collar uncomfortably tight around the knob of his throat.

“Billy–” He says, with tears in his eyes.

But Billy’s gotta spit it out, before the words choke him to death. He takes the stairs two at a time, arriving at the bottom.

“Steve,” He says, kind of breathless. “I don’t just like you. I love you, and. Max helped me plan this because I’m an idiot. And the balloons are all wrong and I didn’t cook you anything, not even macaroni, but I love you, and--”

“It’s perfect,” Steve tells him.

And Billy doesn’t want to brag, but.

He proves it. Seals the deal with a kiss.

[toasted-valentine]

Adamandi details that make me feral because I’m hyper fixating so fucking bad rn

•Vincent’s saltiness during Read All About It when Ambrose’s death is attribute to a suicide pact

•Vincent’s tie only being tied towards the end when he’s become more like Ambrose.

•Vincent’s apple story coming back via them putting on the bitter skin of Ambrose via Ambrose’s clothes and the skask.

•Repeated mentions death in the first act later foreshadowing Vincent’s descent into madness, examples:

-“I can’t exactly tell the freshman to dissect someone if they wanna win the Phaethon.”

-“From above they look like flies, surrounding something that has died.”

-“My boyfriends a bio major, he’ll cut you up into tiny bits.”

•Vincent taking over Ambrose’s position on stage after they kill him, moving from the background to the foreground.

•Beatrix pondering what would happen if Vincent died in an awful fight, Vincent later losing the fight to Beatrix and Quincy dealing the final blow.

•Vincent asking about larceny, arson, and murder in the past Phaethon winners and proceeding to do all three. They steal Ambrose’s jacket and give Beatrix the magnifying glass they stole back while asking about the past Phaethon winners, try setting a pyre at the school, and kill twenty three people.

•Ambrose avoiding sleeping with his girlfriend, presumably from not wanting to reveal himself as trans to her, along with being gay.

•Beatrix color coding their strings, starting off with lighter and calmer ones before veering off into the red zone.

•Beatrix wanting Portia to interview them, on a subtle level wanting the kind of attention the other nominees got but not wanting to reveal themself as a nominee. Beatrix flat out tells Portia their project, able to play it off due to it being practice.

•Vincent cutting the skin off an apple with a knife for Ambrose and Ambrose not liking the fleshy feel of it, Ambrose later on being obsessive with things getting marble perfect, and Vincent peeling Ambrose’s skin off.

•Ambrose making multiple illusions to carving and finding things under skin within Sound Body, Sound Mind.

•Vincent and Quincy saying the worst thing that could happen is the other person not having feelings. They were wrong.

•Vincent drawing open rib cages and hearts in class, already having some fascination with human insides.

•Beatrix taking off the Ardess jacket after spending the night with Portia, finally being herself again, finding a middle ground between reporter life and personal life in The Other Side of Failure with the new jacket combined with old hat.

•Ambrose makes note about liking Vincent’s eyes and Vincent later losing one.

•Beatrix immediately fucking up and letting slip that they were a nominee as soon as the strings were off.

•Vincent mentioning hearts beating as one during Where Can I Run and Quincy’s later obsession with the two being one.

•Vincent calling Quincy “angel”, something that would be darkly ironic later on.

•Beatrix’s “Careful, I’ll quote that.” line and Beatrix later writing an article about Vincent and the other prize winner’s crimes.

•Beatrix mentioning falling asleep against the presses with Portia, and later on falling asleep with her again after writing the exposure piece on the Ardess Admin.

•Vincent’s embrace of Quincy from A Little More In Love coming back when they hug Quincy during The Other Side Of Failure.

•Quincy telling Vincent “be careful, I don’t want someone to report you” and Beatrix and Portia’s report later in The Daily.

•Vincent taking over Ambrose’s “me myself and I” line within Where Can I Run (Reprise), not originally singing a “me myself and I” during Me Myself and I.

•Beatrix and Vincent not attributing Ambrose’s death to suicide during Read All About It, not singing with the ensemble during the first half of the song.

•Vincent bluntly saying that Ambrose’s murder was only the first, implying he’s going to commit more.

•How back handed Ardess’ statement about Ambrose’s death was, it’s so petty.

•Quincy talking about cutting one’s hand off and plucking an eye out if sin prevails, later burning their own hands and stabbing Vincent’s eye out.

There’s more, but that’s what I have off the top of my head.

[vanfleeter]

Bloodshed: Part 4 - Danny

Author's Note: This one is a little bit shorter but still a good way for you all to get a introduction to Daniel.

Warnings: Fluff. Mentions of fighting. Nightmares. Allusions to death. Talks of war.

Bloodshed Masterlist

Coming home from war should have happened with a nice greeting from his best friend and his brothers. Did that happen? No.. Instead he was greeted by the twins arguing and jabbing their swords at each other.

“Welcome Home, Daniel. Great to have you back, Daniel. Congratulations on winning the war.” Danny mimics in an exasperated tone. He flops down on the daybed and exhales deeply. “Great to be home everybody. Glad you missed me. Oh I’m good, just traumatized for life, but I'll be fine, thank you for asking.”

“Are you talking to yourself?” He hears Sam’s voice.

Danny lifts his head off of the daybed and looks over towards the door of his bedroom. “Does anybody ever knock? I know I’ve been gone for the better part of a year but this is still my place of residency.”

Sam holds up his hands and backs out of the bedroom. The sound of the bell ringing outside of Danny’s cottage makes him roll his eyes and picks himself up from the daybed. He pads his way to the door and pulled it open.

Sam greets him with a smile. “Hey pal! Mind if I come in?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “You fool..” He says allowing Sam back into his house.

Sam laughs as he steps through the threshold. “How’s it going?” He asks. “Though I’m sure I can guess from what I heard a little bit ago.”

Danny huffs and closes the door. “You would think that someone who won a war would be greeted with hugs and smiles, but was I? No.. I had to keep Jacob and Joshua from killing each other.” He sighs and folds his arms over his chest. “Where the hell were you, might I ask? They're your brothers, I am not their keeper.”

Sam shrugs his shoulders. “I was off completing my tasks, unlike those two. They never stop arguing.”

“It’s the stupid crown,” Danny says. “With the King’s health slowly getting worse, the two of them are butting heads even more.”

Sam nods his head and drops down onto the sofa. “Is it bad for me to say that I don’t want Joshua to be king?”

Danny shrugs his shoulders. “You know I will not pick sides, and neither should you.”

“But if you had to?” Sam inquires.

Danny shakes his head. “As I have said, I am staying out of it.”

“Soo.. Jacob?” Danny glares at Sam. “Okay, okay.” Sam sits up right on the sofa and reaches for an apple on the table. “I saw Iridessa in town today,” He says as he bites out a chunk today. “Still wanting to marry her?”

Danny nods his head. “I was going to ask her tonight.”

“T-Tonight?” Sam stammers. “Uh, you can’t..”

Danny’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean I can’t?”

“Uh well, the King, he wants to see you tonight. Discuss the details of the war.”

Danny furrows his eyebrows. “He never wants to do that.”

Sam shrugs his shoulders. “That’s just what I was told. Wants you in the grand hall by sunset,” Sam stands up from the sofa and heads for the door. “Oh,” He pauses with his hand resting in the handle. “Dress formal. Full suit and everything.”

Once the door is closed and Danny is alone in his own home, he falls onto the sofa groaning and resting his arm over his face.

–

He’s never used to people bowing to him or showing any kind of respect. Tonight is not any different. Every person he walks by will bow or curtsey to him. He acknowledges them with a simple nod of his head and a kind smile. There is definitely something going on.

Approaching the large, ceiling tall double doors that lead into the grand ballroom, he is met with two guardsmen. Why he has to meet the king here instead of the throne room is beyond him. He hears a few whispers of his name before three loud thumps hit the floor on the other side of the doors. His eyebrows furrow but he quickly eases his face as his name is loudly announced inside of the ballroom.

“It is my great pleasure,” He hears the king’s boom. “To welcome back home from war.. Sir Daniel Wagner!” The doors swung wide open and he met with the full of high class guests as well as the whole royal family standing side by side on the altar. Sam is grinning widely, showing all of his teeth while the twins are standing beside each other and seemingly not bickering. Everyone bows to Daniel, following the lead of the royal family.

He walks through the crowd until he approaches the bottom step of the altar. The king takes a few steps down towards Danny and draws his sword.

“It is with great honor and pleasure for I, your king, to bestow upon you the knighthood of the Spring realm. You have fought alongside your fellow kin in this war against the pirates and you have been victorious. Is it because of you that we have made peace with their realm and it is also because of you, Sir Daniel, that our kingdom and realm is now safe once again.”

Cheers and applause erupt all around. Danny bows to the king before turning towards the people and bowing to them as well.

“And.. I am pleased to now award you with this gift.. Please stay in the position that you are..”

He hears shuffling behind him followed by a few surprised gasps from the people that crowd the ballroom. Upon his head, he feels cold metal being laid upon his curls. The freezing cold seeps through his skin and fills every inch of his body.

“We have ruled alongside the Winter realm for thousands of years.. Just over twenty years ago, they had lost their ruler and the heir to their throne and depended on the Spring realm to aid them in survival. After a lengthy discussion with the council of both our realms, we have come to the conclusion to award Sir Daniel with the position to rule the Winter realm in all of its glory. And with the responsibility of this new role comes the powers that are bestowed upon its people. He is now in possession of both Spring and Winter powers.”

His veins run cold with the mixture of water and ice, filling his body and overtaking the warmth that Spring had given him. He lifts his head, looking out over the sea of people. They all gaze upon in awe and wonder as they witness the crowning of a new king for the Winter Realm. History being sealed in the timeline right before their very eyes. Soon cheers and applause fill the room once more as they welcome this change and embrace it with praise.

A hand collapses onto his shoulder and he turns his head to see Sam beaming at him. “Congratulations brother. You’ve earned it.” He takes a step back and bows so low. If he went any further, his head would most certainly touch the granite floors.

“Now, without further ado,” The king announces. “Let’s celebrate and feast.”

Music begins to play from the orchestra in the balcony high above the crowd. All three boys crowd around him, congratulating him and also teasing him in all the brotherly fashion. After a bit he excuses himself and makes his way across the ballroom and towards Iridessa who awaits him at the tables with a bright smile on her face.

“Your Majesty..” She says as she bows to him.

“Please, my love,” He says, reaching out for her hand. “You need not bow to me.”

“But you are king, Daniel. It is out of respect.”

“I realize that, but you are not required to do such a thing. I am still the same Daniel you’ve always known, just with a crown on my head.” Her soft giggles draw a smile to his face and he lifts her hand to place a soft kiss upon her delicate skin. “May I ask something of you, Iridessa?”

“Of course,” She says.

“I made a promise to you that when I came back, I would take you as mine.” He holds her hands gently within his as he slowly moves downwards to one knee and looks up at her. The room falls silent once again as the people watch on for what is to come. “Iridessa, may I take your hand in marriage?”

Her eyes begin to gloss over with tears and she nods her head. “Yes, my love.” He stands quickly to his feet again and sweeps up into his arms as he plants a loving and passionate kiss to her lips. Once more the crowd cheers and the celebrations continue for the rest of the evening.

–

Later that night when all seemed calm and right within the realm, Danny is awoken with a chilling scream piercing his ears. Immediately he turns to Iridessa and finds her still fast asleep beside him. He hears the screams once more and he springs out of bed so quickly and retrieves his sword from beside his bed and slowly makes his way towards the cottage door.

“David!” He hears Samuel screaming. It had an echo to it, as if it were a dream. “No.. No.. Somebody help!”

Rushing outside and into the dark, he follows the screams until he’s somewhere inside the wood and searching for Sam and David. But he can’t seem to find them anywhere. “Sam!” He yells. “Sam, where are you?!”

“Oh god.. David! Please, stay with me brother. Somebody help!”

Still, Danny cannot find either of the princes. His breathing becomes erratic as his vision begins to spin.

“David!”

Suddenly he falls into darkness before being awoken again back in his own bed. Beads of sweat roll down his forehead and body and he shakes himself free of the sheets. “Danny?” He hears Iridessa whisper in the dark. Her warm hand wraps around his bicep. “Are you alright?”

He sucks in a deep breath before exhaling. “I’m okay.. Bad dream perhaps..”

“Do you dream of war?” She asks.

“Yes but not with the pirates.. A different war.. And David is the center of it.”

“David? Why David?”

Danny shakes his head. “I do not know..” He says. “I fear something great is soon to happen and it cannot be stopped…”

It is a secret Danny keeps to himself in fear the brothers might think he’s crazy. Insane. They wouldn’t believe him. What harm can possibly come against their brother? David is well loved and respected within the Spring realm. So instead of talking about his dream, he keeps it hidden. Maybe it’s all just a dream. Maybe remnants of the war still plague his subconscious. The gruesome images he has to witness may be the root cause of this dream. He can only hope it stays a dream.

Laying back down in bed, he relaxes his body against Iridessa, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin and pulling her flush against his torso. The one thing he can trust to be real and true. The love of his life, his soon-to-be wife and maybe one day the mother of his children.

Deep breaths, Danny. It’s only the war. But the war is over. You cannot be harmed no more. You are home and you are safe. David is alive. It was just a dream. Breathe. Relax.

Soon he finds himself slipping back into a deep sleep and not waking up again until the morning.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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Hope you've enjoyed the first four parts of Bloodshed! Please be sure to like and reblog! We will reconvene again after the holidays, but until then Merry Christmas and a happy new year!

[spacedlexi]

At first I was mixed about Lily's return but the more I think about the more it feels right.

Lily is cursed.

She is the woman in the comics that kills Lorie and her baby at the prison before snapping and killing the Governor.

She always follows people that in some twisted way remind her of her dad and in the end helps bring the end of whatever group she is apart of.

The Delta lost so many in Lily's attempt to get the kids all because of one she knew from so long ago. One from the first group she destroyed.

im gonna be honest when i say i ... really never understood all the hang ups people had about lily returning to fill the villain role for s4

like lily returning in s4 makes more sense to me than kenny returning in s2 im gonna be real with you all. lily was at worst left on the side of the road and at best had her own rv at least she wasnt left for dead in a walker infested alleyway. personally i was hoping for a christa return (because i dont want to admit she really died 💀 no body=no death) but lily made enough sense to me and i was excited by her reveal

clem knew lily at the beginning of the outbreak. before 8 years of it turned them into different people. clem isnt the scared little girl she used to be. shes grown up into an extremely capable fighter. and while lily at the beginning of the outbreak seemed like a tired woman trying to keep it together, but also felt the need to take charge and didnt like being questioned (who also cared too much about her awful father but we get more insight into that in s4), by s4 shes lost any shred of kindness she mightve had left. she was military before the outbreak and now given a position of power rules through fear and an iron fist (just like her father). but there are moments between her and clem where we can see just a Glimpse of that old lily ("we were family once..."). but all of that goes away once she realizes that clem is a genuine threat now. and lily recognizes that clem would be a perfect soldier if she can just break her the way she herself was broken so long ago. and if she cant break clem then she'll break aj instead

and then we have the lee element. lily is the Only other person left from that first group at the motel (she did not destroy that group btw ben did like cmon now and ben Keeps destroying it after lily isnt even around anymore). and while shes wrong to say she knew lee better than clem ever did, lee and lily (and kenny) were group leaders together while clem was eating her apple and coloring with chalk. like the adults were speaking. and depending on how you played s1 lee could have a decent relationship with lily. lily being able to sow those seeds of doubt in s4 clems head is just fun mind games

they have History. clem still wears the hair ties lily gave her all the way back in s1. she helped take care of clem for a time. looked out for her. and in a different universe clem Easily couldve ended up standing in minnies shoes instead

also in regards to the delta we Know they dont really want to be kidnapping kids to fight in a war that would probably kill most of them in the first 5 minutes. if they had the adults to be fighting instead they would be. it just shows us how dire the deltas situation really is. they were just expecting to find a bunch of kids for easy picking but clem turned them all into skilled enough fighters to successfully kill a few of them and raid their boat. clem is a big enough win that it doesnt even matter how skilled the rest of the kids are. plus lily was just leading the excursion. we dont know how high up the ladder she really was and how much power she really held. maybe she had something to prove back at the delta (my one real gripe is that we didnt get to actually See the delta. in my perfect world there were 5 episodes and ep 4 was about the delta 😔)

both lily and clem are just trying to save their communities. the difference is lily wants to uphold the status quo of fear and force and war, and clem is trying to build a safe community thats different from the many shes seen. she and the rest of the kids just want to carve out their own little safe haven in this dangerous and unforgiving world. they make a place truly worth fighting for

clem getting some form of closure with lily i feel might get to help her close the book so to speak on her history up until this point. clem has been fighting for so long... but she has a new home now. a new community. she can Chill a little bit. shes gonna grow into such an incredible leader 😭 (not that she isnt already 😭)

[sneezemonster15]

okay, so I totally agree with you when you say sakura and ss fans don't get sasuke at all. they just raise one point i'm curious about:

how did sakura- in all her "i'm going to win sasuke" mentality- actually realize he was going to leave? i get that naruto had blinding faith and ignorance, so it was a surprise to him, but sakura had at least ignorance regarding understanding sasuke's pain on her side, right?

i get that she was shaken up by the battle on the rooftop of the hospital, but she didn't know the sound four were there, trying to lure sasuke out. how did she go from her happy little delusion and attempting to feed him apples to the realization he'd leave that night?

that's just one piece of the puzzle i can't quite make fit, and it is pretty inconsequential. i'm just wondering what your take is?

Sakura witnessed Orochimaru branding Sasuke with the curse mark in the forest of death, Naruto didn't. And Sasuke forbade her to tell Naruto about it because he didn't want to worry Naruto, he is way too protective about Naruto. So damn tsundere lol.

Sakura had been noticing the mark's effect on Sasuke afterwards since she knew it was there, Naruto didn't.

She knew the mark was affecting him badly and that it was Oro's scheme to tempt Sasuke to come to him on his own volition. Oro is a shrewd villain and he knew that Sasuke harboured a strong ambition to avenge his clan which would eventually push him to get stronger for which he would seek Oro's power. Which Oro was planning to take advantage of.

She had seen the mark's effect when Sasuke fought with Zaku in the forest of death, defeating him mercilessly due to the sudden upsurge in power.

She also knows that Sasuke is very serious about his training as he wants to gain more power so as to become able to carry out his ambition. This happened during the bell test.

She knew that if he felt tempted, he would go to Oro, and hence leave Konoha, and her, to get it. After the incident on the hospital roof, as she sees Sasuke being especially frustrated with his weakness (he is naturally feeling very vulnerable after Itachi's visit), she finally tells Naruto about it.

Naruto reassures her that it wouldn't happen, but he hadn't seen him under the mark's influence. During his fight with Zaku, Naruto was unconscious. And during his fight with Dosu, he was able to get the mark under control entirely on his own. Naruto noticed afterwards and enquired about it, but Sakura was told not disclose it to by Sasuke, so she didn't.

Naruto later tries to assure her. She is not convinced. So she waits for Sasuke on the bench. Basically, she didn't want Sasuke to leave Konoha ie her. And you aren't wrong about her self centred behaviour either. Because she tries to talk to Sasuke and it doesn't work, whereafter she asks him to take her with him. So as long as she is with him, it doesn't matter whether he is safe in Konoha or not. Which contributes to Sasuke getting triggered, because once again, she manages to make it about herself. Heh.

[facelesswrittes]

Summery: The story revolves around Kim y/n, a hardworking and honest teenager who unwillingly enters a to-the-death tournament called the oddinary season. where combatants fight with magic and Heroes from throughout history for a chance to have their wishes granted. Through this new experience she's pared up with a certain red hair boy who I may add has a thing for red apples.

Word count:

Paring: hwang hyunjin x f!reader

Warnings: cursing, death, fighting, blood, romance and grief?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He had a Mohican cut and scythe-shaped eyebrows, almond shaped sea rover-blue eyes. defined cheekbones that went perfectly along with his sharp nose. His hair was a quite the odd color, red. Bloody red. He moved with a leopard-like grace that somehow send shivers down your spine. “So, I think it’s pretty safe to assume you’ll be my master for the time being.” His voice hadn’t been any different for what you had imagined. He had a deep voice. Not one that was to deep, but just right. An earthy scent swirled around him. And it took all your will not to stutter.

“Yes, that’s right.” You stood only a mare foot away from the taller male. And somehow his presence made you feel expose, as if he could read you like a book in a matter of seconds.

“Well, princess.” He stepped even closer, his hot breath now on your skin. “This is no child’s play. So don’t joke around and bring me my real master.” His plump lips turned up into what you assumed was a smirk. If it hadn’t been for his previous statement you would have found his behavior dangerously attractive.

“Well I’ll have you know that I am no child. You and me have been linked, and as your master you well, wether you like it or not, Fallow my rules and orders.” You confidently exclaim, putting up the hand in which the marking of your contract was made. As to prove your point, silencing any other doubts the man could possibly have.

His sharp gaze was fixed on the back of your hand which held the mark. Then he looked back at his own hand to find the same symbol written down. “You have to be kidding me… a little kid out of all people?” He mutter to himself, however you heard it clearly.

“I’m eighteen years old!!” You grit your teeth, practical shouting at the man before you. Although he didn’t bother caring, instead he stand up putting a hand to his chin.

“Okay we can make this work.” He began. “Just stay out of my way and I’ll make sure to win this war, easy right?”

This made your chest explode with anger, this guy has really been testing your patience. It didn’t take you long to know that he was the exact opposite of what you wanted. Might as well through out the whole list of “server must not.” Out the window.

How did a well behave student such as you end up in this situation anyways?

Well…

Born and raised in a family of maidens, you have had to experience far more things then any teenager should have. As though fate had wished the worst upon your innocent being.

You where there when grief had eaten your fathers soul away. You where there when your mother had fallen to bed. And you where there, shearing the feelings of your father as he took the gift from the gods to bring delicacy and luxury as well as health to your family’s lives. Saving a precious soul from being taken away from his grasp. But at what cause.

Your family had been stained, stained with blood that wasn’t yours. Trapped in an endless loop of participation in such a cruel event. And now it all came down to you. The day to come when you would turn 18, you would participate much like your father in this blood thirsty games.

When an envelope showed up at your front door a week after your birthday, on a much normal day, you hadn’t thought much of it. Until you saw your fathers horror while reading the small paper. You knew it was finally your time to participate.

And upon summoning a noble phantom to fight along side you, you were graced with the unfortunate luck of being pared up with probably the most arrogant cocky person you have ever come across with.

But being the natural heartwarming person you where you had a little spark of hope. “May I know what type of noble phantom do I have the pleasure to meet?”

This made his smirk return only this time it was double the size. “Caster.”

Suddenly everything clicked in. His behavior, how cocky he was, it all made sense now. Of course he had to be a caster.

“Right.” You clear your throat before continuing. “I’ll put it to you this way. Casters are know to be bad luck. There powers are a mystery, not to forget there behavior is unacceptable.”

The mans eyes widened before placing a hand to his chest in a dramatic attempt for you to feel bad.

“There also known for betraying there masters, I will not allow that from you.” You pointed an accusing finger. “If so I’ll take my own life and you well disappear.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckled stepping back from your figure. “I got you all wrong, maybe you are a proper mage.”

“Of course I am, who do you take me as?” Crossing your arms around your chest, you took a step back. Your eyebrows pulling together while your eyes scanned the male from the tips of his hair all the way down to his shoes, which where a pair of nice black leather boots. This man new how to dress. When it came to fashion he must really be on trends. His black jeans matched perfectly with his motorcycle black jacket with the letters H.J. Printed to the side of it.

That reminds you, you didn’t quite catch his name…

“So we agreed that your a caster, should I call you caster from now on or would you prefer your real name?” They say curiosity killed the cat, but you where too intrigued to find out more about him now.

Letting this opportunity go to waste would be a sin. Plus, this was just a normal step that would be necessary for your future bond as master and servant.

The man, who paid you barley a glance, was more then indeed gorgeous. Something frightening in your case. However the spark of genuine curiosity from you couldn’t be contained.

“Hyunjin.” He spoke clearly, not wanting to repeat himself with the little lack of patience he seems to have. “You can call me that or caster. I will be satisfied with whatever name my master decides to call me anyway.”

“I’m Kim y/n, but since you and me we’ll be stuck together for quite a while let’s break the formalities, you may call me y/n.” You finished, never breaking the eye contract with the male.

“As you wish, master.” He leaned over the wall just a few feet away from you, his attention openly driving to the door of your house.

“Should we get straight into business?”

Silence.

He didn’t respond instead he focused on staring directly at the door.

It was odd. Very odd at that. But you decided not to question it.

“Hyunjin,”

A blink was all you received from the taller male.

“Hyunjin?!”

His head snap towards your direction, his hand going to his mouth, placing his index finger straight on his lips, a motion to silence you. Which unquestionably worked.

It all stayed dead quiet. Way to quiet for your liking. All there was is your innocent self having a stare down with the older male. The tension that created was unbearable, but you figure this man had a reason for wanting the place as quiet as it is. The thought of that made your heart rate increase. Was there already someone after both of your tails?

After what seem like hours of pure silence you finally took it upon yourself to break it only to regret it in a matter of seconds. “Hyun-“

“Found you.”

An amused laugh fallowed as the, hidden figure emerged from the shadows. “I could sense your presence from a mile away.” It was a boy who spoke. A pair of beautiful light blue eyes connected to your gaze. He was surprisingly tall. His hair was a mix of both blond and white which suited his eyes perfectly, and there sharp shape. Cute freckles adorned his pale cheeks. He was adorable, completely throwing off how deep his voice truly was.

This has to be a joke…. Only a few minutes ago you summon your servant and your already getting attacked? Well… people did say casters where bad luck.

You refuse to believe this is any of your partners doing. Shaking your head from side to side to relive the thought.

“Y/n,” hyunjins voice had a nice ringing to your name, coming out so naturally from his lips as if he had said it millions of times. It almost impressed you how well it fell out of his throat. “Get out of here!”

Right. If something where to happen to you (god forbid) your death. Hyunjin would disappear as well. However if hyunjin was defeated you would have no protection against other mages. Both ways led to a dead end.

The most reasonable thing to do was to fallow what hyunjin said, if you knew what abilities and powers hyunjin has. But you don’t. So there’s absolutely no way that you we’ll leave him where there’s more then a hundred percent chance he we’ll get killed.

It could be a trap.

“I said run!”

If looks could kill you’d definitely be dead with the way hyunjin was staring at you.

For a moment you doubted yourself, Taking a step back. All it took for you to start a sprint was the blond male raveling his swords. He was a saber.

Before you even process it your legs where already taking you elsewhere. Sprinting out the door into the empty streets without a look behind. Being afraid that if you did you’d slow down into his reach.

But you where wrong. Terribly wrong.

There was no screaming, all there was is the smell of burning flesh. And the red warm liquid running down your partners back.

He had taken the hit for you. Wrapping his arms around your frame leaving his back exposed where now a deep cut was precent.

His scent remain the same. Intoxicating despite the metallic smell around the air.

Pain or joy, you doubt it felt it.

He was just numb.

There was no screams of agony nor tears of pain. It was all quiet.

For a moment you wonder if he was a human at all. But the way his eyes glued to yours, making sure you where still intact made your heart skip a beat.

Funny enough, after a while— he stood up. As if his back hadn’t just been pierced by a sharp blade. As if blood wasn’t running down his back.

“Hyunjin..?”

Your voice was filled with worry, making him turn his head to you. But no words left his lips.

“I’m impressed, you are quite fast.” You where so worried about hyunjin you had completely forgotten about the enemy.

Hyunjin looks directly at his eyes, his hands clenched up making a fist. The blonde man swings his sword with intensity that it made a whistle sound.

Making Hyunjin immediately back away, then gives out a hard roundhouse kick to the saber’s face. The blonde man gets furious and stabs Hyunjin’s leg at an impossible speed. blood spilling out, but as this happens Hyunjin punches his side intensely. The saber doesn’t give out a flinch and pulls his sword up more towards his upper legs revealing Hyunjins open skin.

Hyunjin grabs the sword and pulls it out showing the sword with crimson red flowing down onto the saber’s hands. Hyunjin using his other hand grabs the saber’s arm and with barely movement swiftly pushed saber, Sending the saber back in his step.

You run towards Hyunjin, determine to help, but you where meet with his cold expression.”Y/N BACK OFF,” his eyes snapping towards yours. And you knew you had no choice but to do as he said. You’d only get on his way you told yourself. However the blood running down his body told you otherwise. Your inner self screaming for you to help him.

But before you could even get your body to move further, hyunjin was already caught up in an intense fight. Your eyes barely even being able to make out what was happening.

But you knew this was it. A fight between servants. What your father had been preparing you for over a decade. And you where standing there pathetically as your servant fought for your life and his own.

And as always, immediate regret followed suit.

You couldn’t just let what your fathers hard work go to waist. And with the recent found adrenaline you lunched yourself forward, taking a hold of the saber’s sword before he could use his deadly swing again.

Hyunjins voice rang in your ears, but you couldn’t understand what he was yelling. All you could think of was stoping the fight.

“Well aren't you a interesting sight?" There was a knowing smirk plastered on the blonde's face. shiver traveled through Your bones and you couldn't help but stare.

The stranger took a step forward, closing the already tiny gap between you. “I’m afraid my master is already calling for me, we’ll have to continue this another day.” A mere whisper and a smirk shouldn't be this alluring, but it was!

Before you knew it the man before you was already gone. Leaving nothing but the gust of wind and the flickering streetlight in the distance behind.

The only reminder that he was ever there was the bruises and cuts in Hyunjins pale body. Which brings you back to the real important thing.

His body felt heavy, heavier than usual. His weak body was infuriating to him. And there was nothing he wished more then to curse himself for what he was given. Though, should he really blame his body for this?

Maybe it was all merely an excuse to console himself. To not think about his true weakness. But, it didn't redirect his self-anger.

“Shit..” he cursed under his breath, your ears barley able to catch on it. You assumed his body was in a burning pain that you wished to relive. But it wasn’t in your hands.

With a sigh, hyunjin leaned on to your body. Having no strength to carry himself up. He thought of nothing else but how pathetic he must have looked

But seeing your unwavering face as you tried helping him, he doubted he had any saying.

More than anything, he hated being a burden or a charity-case. But having only been summoned he hadn’t quite adjusted to your aura. Which only meant his healing would take longer then it should have.

Only in times like these, did you truly notice From afar the hyunjin was gorgeous...and from up close, he was enchanting.

Even in the state he currently was his beauty remain.

Was it sad? That even knowing hyunjin was nothing but a noble phantom who would disappear when the war came to an end, you still took a moment to gaze at those soft lips?

It was…

⌌⊱⇱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰⌍

You had done your best to take care of the male. His chest cover in soft bandages that you wrapped. However you had never took care of injuries this serious. You nearly felt embarrassed about the mess you had made trying to help him out. However he gave no comment on it.

Maybe his body was still tired from fighting saber. fighting saber truly took a toll on his body, you doubted the pain had gone away.

“I thought.. servants where able to heal themselves…” the question was stupid, however genuine curiosity took the best of you.

Bad move.

His head turn to your direction, his dark blue eyes forcing a glare. “I was just summoned, my body hasn’t quite adjusted to your aura master. It we’ll take a while for my body to get use to it.”

And there he goes, going back to calling you master when you thought you finally Brocken formalities.

“What about saber? He was pretty strong. You think it’s been a while since he was summoned?”

“I don’t think so, it didn’t give me that impression anyway. His master must have a an incredible amount of aura, He has yet to still reach his full potential.” Hyunjin leaned against the railing of the bed, his gaze locking on yours. “I don’t mean to offend you master, but your aura is a little lacking. So if we wanna defeat saber we’ll have to wait.”

Your cheeks heated up, a huff escaping your lips before crossing your arms. “Jerk.”

“Hear me out, your aura is quite strong. Stronger then any normal mage, maybe that’s the reason I find it hard to adjust to it. Nevertheless your my ideal type for a mage.”

This made your head shoot to his direction. Your cheeks turning radder then they should have.

“However…” he halted for a moment his gaze flickering from your figure to somewhere else. “I particularly dislike your way of thinking.” Waiting for a few moments, the servant expected a response.

But your confused state didn’t allow you to do so. You where unsure what he was referring to.

All you did was stare making him sigh further.

“To you we have already lost. I don’t know what the reason may be, if it’s Because I’m a caster or because saber scares you. But I don’t care. I despise it when people doubt my ability’s. I well win this war, and you well swallow all the discouraging thoughts you may have.” Determined, he pushed himself off the bed. Sending one of his infamous glares your way.

the cautious rays of the moon illuminated his frame. His skin practically glowing under the moons shine. It was a breathtaking sight. You’d be lying to say it hadn’t amazed you. You had almost lost what you had been conversing about, thankfully doe, you had been unconsciously listening. A habit you where forced to get into thanks to constantly having your head in the clouds.

Your lips turn up into a smile, not being able to hold it back with the confident stare he was sending you. “We’ll see about that, caster. Make me root my words.”

You lightly chuckled, pushing the male back to bed. "But for now rest up, we won't advance until your all healed up, so tomorrow I'll show you around the city."

With a hum, he let him self rest in the comfortable mattress. His eyelids growing heavier as a reminder of how tired he truly was. He had been pushing the feeling away as much as he could, but in the end he couldn't. Instead letting his eyes close driving him into a peaceful sleep. A much needed one at that.

Over the past three years, your father had prayed maybe even bagged for you to posses saber durning this season. Knowingly that saber was probably the most powerful and skilled between servants. And now you had taken a look to his power, surely they where no lies.

However.. for some reason, you weren't upset for what you had gotten. You had grown to accept it, seeing that your servant was pretty capable of providing you protection. You where an odd pair, anyone could see that. Polar opposites. But you felt that both your auras where dancing in harmony. That could only mean one thing. Your bond would grow to be strong.

You wonder if your father would be disappointed. Mad even. He had always said you had a much to kind heart. The last thing he ever wanted was the war to ruin that demeanor.

The old lady toma had said something similar. Convincing your father that your inner self would never allow you to win the war, surely leading you to your own death instead.

It wasn't that being kind was much of a problem. In fact it was the in capability of taking another's life.

You had always set your mind to something, a goal you so much wanted to achieve. For your father, for your mother and for everyone in the oddinary season.

You would win the oddinary season, with no blood stained in your hands, to wish upon the gods to end such an event. Saying it was rather simple, however actually achieving it was the tuff part.

Your eyes settle at the man before you. You weren't alone anymore, you where one step closer to your goal. Right now you felt pretty invincible, making a smile take over your lips.

[rphelperblog]

The Borgias Quote Rp Meme

 Part 1: inspired by @multistoty​ @all-is-fair-in-love-and-war​

You show no tears? Are you stone?”

“Don’t look at you? Then pluck my eyes out.”

I do tend to win whatever battles I fight.“

Is nothing in this damned city what it seems?“

Kings are of short supply.“

I will marry anyone you like if it helps you to sleep.“

I am of novelty value then.“

Death, also is in paradise.“

Most things in life prove to be sad“

All things are permissible in our dreams.“

Can one spill blood to rid the world of a greater evil?“

I feel for you still, but I know not this man beside me.“

We are facing a battle for our very survival.“

She is heading as far away from you as possible, my lord.“

Know your enemy. Know him better than your friend.”

I have wished him dead a thousand times.“

One looks to the future, the other to the past.“

Sometimes goodness needs the help of a little badness.“

Affections can be lethal in this Rome of ours.“

I recognize the symptoms of your illness, and it's not called marsh fever. You're with child.“

You are my eldest son. It is your destiny to follow in my foot steps.

You care so much for someone you hardly know.“

Is it murder to defend your mother's honor?”

Your eyes, you no longer walk on air. Where is my young sister hiding?“

You must cry for me, for I have no more tears.“

You asked who would do such a thing. The answer is many people”

Yes, I will marry him. He has all the sweetness of an apple on a tree.“

What happened to you? You were such a lovely child.”

God gives you riches, and you kill for more.”

This dog will come back and bite.“

You would surprise yourself if such destiny ever brushed against you.“

Save your thoughts. Say nothing.“

I haven't uttered a word.”

Don't challenge me! And never, ever within these sacred walls!“

No, but we can hear you thinking.“

This is not God's doing, father.“

Everything is God's doing!“

I stand in awe, your eminence.”

We did love our children, did we not my dear?“

You killed your father.”

There was a reason for my marriage brother. Remind me of it.“

You were given this office for a reason, your holiness.“

Still, I stand in awe.”

We're dancing on your brother's grave.“

what exactly are you celebrating? Your sisters betrothal, or the death of your brother?“

If you don't have the stomach for this spectacle, you'll find that Spain lies that way.“

Too close for comfort.“

No your holiness. It was a bolt of lightning.“

She chose God, and God repaid her with mutilation.“

Oh what would Rome be without a good plot?“

The others bought and sold. We merely proved ourselves better at the game, but we draw the line at murder.“

And what do you do with a monkey that bites you?“

[thegrunkiest]

Lucien Lachance x Antoinetta Marie Headcanons: The Great Treachery of Cheydinhal

As I mentioned in my first headcanon post, I have a whole headcanon scenario for how I believe this pairing would be affected by the Dark Brotherhood questline. Far more angst and tragedy in this one so buckle up!

Antoinetta and Lucien's relationship grows strained as the Great Treachery of Cheydinhal rears its ugly head. It began as the rumblings of a potential traitor saw Lucien far busier than usual, their trysts growing even farther apart. Then it's deduced that it's the Cheydinhal Sanctuary that has bred the traitor.

Lucien is paranoid about what this means of he and Antoinetta. He attempts to calculate dates and times, any evidence that could support the idea SHE did not commit the treachery. Nothing is substantial.

The downward spiral begins. He is livid. Had he truly been sleeping with the enemy? In letting his guard down, letting her in, has he helped damn his Brotherhood? The mere idea feels like a betrayal, and though a part of him trusts her, knows her enough to understand her loyalty to the Brotherhood is sincere and unshakable, there is no option to act upon the instinct of the heart and rule her out.

The idea festers in him, and he grows taciturn and distant to Antoinetta. After all he cannot fully trust her now. More than that... if he separates himself enough, the sting of the wound that is bound to be inflicted may burn less.

Antoinetta, distraught by their sudden strain, seeks him out in private; little does she know this is the time Lucien's recieved the order for Purification. Try as she may to plead for an explanation he shuts her down, tells her they are finished. Knowing to flee from a fight she cannot win, Antoinetta retreats back to the Sanctuary more confused and upset than when she first sought him out. She just... doesn't understand what happened between them! And she's determined not to lose this - but it's obvious a face-to-face discussion didn't work, so she takes to brainstorming other gestures that may convince Lucien to reconsider...

(You can actually find this letter in the Cheydinhal Sanctuary. I headcanon this is an unsent letter Antoinetta wrote for Lucien because I enjoy pain.)

Antoinetta laments on when she should deliver this letter to Lucien. She decides to wait awhile; perhaps whatever is troubling him will settle down by then and he will be more agreeable. She looks over her work as she takes a bite of an apple on the table.

It's poisoned.

Antoinetta has a horrible epiphany as she is dying. Lucien ordered for her death. The man who had once given her a second chance at life has also just taken it away. What twisted irony. She might even chance one last chuckle at it, were she able to breath...

After Lucien sees his newly appointed Silencer off on their way, he begins the messy work of cleaning up the Purified Sanctuary. When he gets to Antoinetta... he numbs himself to the sight. What sick luck it is for his new Silencer to utilize the poisoned apples he'd given them, only for Antoinetta to take one? He sees the letter left on the table near her body, and reads it. It is full of sentiments he dare not process right now. He pockets it.

The next few weeks are a lonesome existence for Lucien. He contemplates why his Silencer has recently gone inactive after Lucien's initial contracts, and struggles with plans to rebuild the Cheydinhal Sanctuary as he copes with his losses. That is to say he scarcely copes at all; I personally headcanon Lucien is... well... Emotionally Constipated for lack of a better term. He does not allow himself a good cry. His venting is channeled through bursts of rage. He's frustrated his composure is spiraling down in the sewers. This whole arc going on behind the scenes is him basically going

And Lucien realizes he can't really let go either, of Antoinetta in particular. He's sometimes compelled to reread her letter - the last words he'll ever have from her. He had cut off a portion of her shrouded armor's shawl before burying her and keeps it until her scent of cooking seasoning and dead things fade. Sithis, he even occasionally has dreams of their old trysts. Wait... he loved this woman and is dealing with... remorse? The audacity!

Then he discovers his Silencer has been severing the Black Hand; the Treachery didn't die with his Sanctuary. Lucien snaps. That crazed, livid Lucien we see during A Kiss Before Dying is the result of this revelation and all the accumulated anger and remorse he's bottled up over the Purification. And of course - we all know what happens afterwards...

Antoinetta and Lucien meet again in the Void. It's a bittersweet reunion. Antoinetta is hurt over his mistrust of her. Lucien apologizes - no pomp or excuses - and leaves it in her hands to decide whether or not she wants to forgive him for robbing her of a fuller life. They both mull over the circumstances of their deaths... what was and what could have been... but in the end they are bonded. Joined through the powers of the Void.

[ericsonclan]

Hey guys! Remember me? xD

Yeaaah, I was a little busy, school, drawing, work, life in general, but I played TWDG again with my lil' sister and got some questions, I'd like to ask you. If you still take requests, maybe you do a christmas break or something similar ^^

Sooooo, the questioooons:

-My sister and I argued a lot about that fight Clem had with Marlon. We like it, it's just a bit short in our opinion, but my sister always complains about how fast Clem can beat Marlon, like he's some pushover compared to other enemies we encounter in the game (or games in general). And in my opinion, he's got a little handicap there, being at the edge of a real breakdown, a physical breakdown too. It's not really animated, but winning a duel with shaking hands is, eh... hard xD Anyway, my question is, do you think, Marlon would be able to beat Clem in a real fight, when he's got his head in the game? He took to kicks from her straight to the guts and didn't faint immediately, for which I'm blaming the adrenaline, but it's still a little impressive, didn't expect that from him, hehe

-What do you think the Ericson Kid's favorite meals were, before they had to rely on a little bit of soup? Imagine Omar having a real kitchen in there, man....

-Welllll, who do you think would be the most motivated for Christmas? My personal guess is Louis, but also secretly Violet, because maybe she just doesn't want to show how much she really loves the affection they all give each other then...

-When you look at the Ericson Kids, which music genre pops up in your mind? For real, I got a whole part of my Drawing Music Album for each of my favorites, if I don't listen to that while drawing them, I won't ever get it right xD Drew Marlon and AJ the other day and my god, I never listend to Metal for such a long time. That's six hours straight, Sabaton, Metallica, Man 'o War, Metal Covers....

-Rather an awkward question, but my sister wanted me to ask, so here it is - You think there's anyone who doesn't like hot chocolate? Almost all of them are kids, sooo... there's not much chance, but my sister said she can't see Aasim drink hot chocolate for some reason, weird, I know xD

Alright, that's it from me for now!

Wish you all the best and happy holidays! Stay safe!

Our requests are always open and we're happy to answer more questions.

For the first question Marlon vs Clem who would win in a fight: We think that Clementine would still win. We think that Marlon would put up a pretty decent fight but since Clementine has had to experience more life or death situations and has gotten into more fights so she has the skills needed to win.

Oh man Omar with a real kitchen then the Ericson kids would really be having feasts every day.

Let's see favorite meals or food...

Clementine: She loves pancakes specifically chocolate chip pancakes. She could eat those all day every day

Louis: Those PB & J's uncrustables. Definitely not what people would think is rich people food and isn't but Louis loved to buy some and stealthily eating them in his room

AJ: Ants on a log, that snack with celery that has peanut butter and raisins on them

Violet: Chicken nuggets but that's the obvious choice given you can hear about it in the game so we're also gonna add Craft Mac and Cheese. It was one of her comfort foods growing up

Marlon: Meatloaf, specifically his mom's meatloaf. He'd claim it was the best meal in the world and he would be lying if he said he didn't miss it when he got sent to Ericson

Brody: Fruit salad it's something fresh and sweet and she liked switching the fruits ever now and again when it was made

Mitch: Burgers. He loves them especially bacon burgers. He'd punch someone in the face for a bacon burger

Willy: Applesauce he loved it before the apocalypse happened and he was dancing on the picnic tables when he learned that they could use the apples from the apple tree they had to make some for everyone. He also liked those beef sticks that you can get at the checkout at grocery stores he'd scarf those up like there's no tomorrow

Tenn: Peanut butter, banana and honey sandwiches that was his go to and he could eat them for the rest of his life

Omar: Brussel sprouts with candied bacon. His grandma had a great recipe for them and he always wishes that he could make them again some day

Sophie: Grilled cheese sandwiches. Damn she loved that food and she had suggest at one point that they make the trek out to the nearest town in hopes of finding ingredients for it

Minnie: Not a meal but she loves gummy worms and would always be snacking on them while she worked on her music

Ruby: BBQ and all the fixin's. Ribs, brisket, pulled pork she loves it all

Aasim: Lamb vindaloo it was something that he grew up on and his mom always made so it has a special place in his heart

Who's motivated the most for Christmas: Louis for sure he only keeps track of days so he knows when holidays, birthdays and anniversaries are. Ruby absolutely loves decorating and loves all that Christmas time symbolizes. Brody is in a similar vein with that and finds wintertime magical. Violet also really loves Christmas even if she couldn't do much to celebrate it growing up. She'd mainly spend the day with her grandparents and mom and had a small celebration. So she was surprised when Louis brought up the idea that they should celebrate Christmas even after the world had ended but she was glad that he did.

Okay music genres. I don't know if we have specific ones for all the Ericson kids so we might just add a few here for what we associate them with

Marlon: Classic Rock: Queen, The Who, The Doors music like that. To us he just gives those vibes

Louis: Classical music and really soft and cheesy love songs

Ruby: Country Music

Violet: Not a genre but usually quiet or somber music

This is an interesting question I'd say most of all the kids like or love hot chocolate. We agree that Aasim wouldn't be the biggest fan of it but he'd probably drink it around Ruby since she loves it.

Thanks for the ask and we hope you had a safe and fun holiday!

[sixstepsaway]

so i worked more on my blackbonnet fic today BUT i also started work on this little (?) thing and i wanna share it because my thing now is clearly being an izzy hands enjoyer and i want to embrace that

so, here's a snippet of a fic i'm working on, where Ed invites Izzy to his bed before Izzy can kraken-i-fy him.

it'll probably end up steddyhands, maybe in the end? but rn it focuses on blackhands

Izzy Hands is angry, and although it would be an extreme exaggeration to say he's never been this angry before, he thinks it's a close run thing. Everything around him is in shambles, his world is completely upside down, and Edward has the audacity to swing back in, save him from potential (certain, really) death and then go back to bossing him around, except now, now! Now Edward is just a shade of his former self, lounging around half naked in a stupid poncey robe and acting-- Well, acting more like Stede Fucking Bonnet than Izzy knows how to deal with.

He's angry. He's furious. He wants his world to make sense again, and most of all, if he's truly honest with himself, he's scared.

Edward, like this, is vulnerable. He's open and exposed and anyone with half a mind to hurt him can do it with such ease-- It doesn't bear thinking about. On top of that, Edward signed away ten years of his life and barely actually served one day of it. Izzy has nightmares of the English catching up with them, of the English tracking down the ship, boarding and then taking Edward -- this Edward, this 'Ed' version of Edward -- away to do who knows what with and make an example of him.

He shivers at the thought, puts the fear aside and instead lets the anger fuel him as he thumbs through a book, looking for his prize.

"Feels nice to tidy up a little. I can't believe I was living like this, can you, Iz?" Edward says, and not only is it so conversational and so casual it aches somewhere deep inside, but the Iz, the shortening of the shortening of his name slides so effortlessly off his tongue. Izzy finds the photo, gathers the page up in his fingers. "Izzy."

There's something in Edward's voice that stops him. He looks up, but before he can speak, before he can begin his angry rant he's so carefully prepared to press all the buttons that will drive Edward back to being someone that can protect himself and those around him, Edward is moving towards him, face open and honest. "I was thinking."

Izzy pauses. This can't be good. "Oh?" 

"How about you don't go back below decks tonight," Edward says, "how about you come back up and stay here? With me?"

Something turns over in Izzy's chest, something old and rusted, something so seized up he's surprised it can still move, let alone turn and writhe and start to come to life. He tightens his fist around the image of Blackbeard, clutched so desperately in his palm. "What?" He pretends his voice doesn't shake, pretends he has more control in this situation than he thought.

If he expects clarification, he gets none, instead Edward just offers a half-hearted, so very slightly hopeful smile. "What do you say, Iz?"

What does he say? He says, "Why now?" he says, "Why me?" he says, "Do you understand what you're asking of me?" he says, "Is this something you actually want?" he says, "What do you think you're doing?" he says, "Why now, at this moment, when I was about to destroy you myself?"

He says nothing. His throat closes up, he snaps the book closed, the crumpled, mangled image of Blackbeard pressed into his hand. He swallows, focusing on the feel of the bob of his Adam's apple, the way his throat presses briefly against his collar, against the ring that always lives there. 

What does he say?

In the end he says, "I'll see, there might be work to get done, and there's no way this fuckin' crew will get it done if I don't stand over them." 

When he looks back, there's two embers fighting for dominance in Edward's eyes, flickering in and out as one wins over the other; the first is disappointment, a dark shadow that breaks across his face like a cold wave in a storm, and the second is hope, a glinting, glistening thing that waits, desperately, to know if it's right.

He shoves the book back onto the shelf, shoves Stede Bonnet's book back onto Stede Bonnet's shelf in Stede Bonnet's cabin. They've always lived within the walls of stolen ships, but never has he felt it as acutely as now, like a thief that slunk in during the night and slipped away with everything that belongs, still, to someone else. 

"Yeah, Iz," Edward says. His voice has the smallest crack, the tiniest break, and Izzy put that there. He was going to do worse, so why does a small, hairline fracture ache so much in his chest? "I'll leave the door unlocked, just in case you find the time."

It's so many things at once, so many emotions and feelings and offers and outs. He's leaving the door unlocked. Izzy can walk in, or Izzy can walk out. He can, if he chooses, linger in the doorway like a ghost, neither committing nor leaving. Edward has left the door for him, it's up to him what he does with it.

He crumples the paper further, until it tears in his tight grip, and storms out as though Edward had yelled at him. 

He does not look back to see which ember has won, which one has ignited a fire in Edward's eyes, because, he thinks, whichever one it is, Izzy would rush right back into those flames.