#you can die here OR you can die trying to get out of here OR maybe you'll succeed and die another day a different way!

[felassan]

Cliff notes on the new info on Dragon Age: The Veilguard in today’s issue of Game Informer (magazine hub link):

Edit/update: I tidied up this post. ^^

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In CC you can customize things like shoulder width, chest size, glute size, hip width, how bloodshot your eyes are, nose crookedness, and more

There are hundreds of sliders for body proportions

CC detail: “Features like skin hue, tone, melanin”

There is nudity in DA:TV, “which I learned firsthand while customizing my Rook” in CC

Rook’s backstory also affects “reputation standing”, along with the other previously-known things like in-game dialogue etc

Lords of Fortune are pirate-themed, “piratic”

Rook ascends because of competency, not because of a magical McGuffin, contrasting with the 'destiny-has-chosen you’ angle DA:I has for the Inquisitor

Rook is here because they chose to be, “and that speaks to the kind of character that we’ve built. Someone needs to stop this, and Rook says, ‘I guess that’s me'”

The 4 voices we can choose for Rook each have a pitch shifter in CC

The game starts inside the bar (as previously detailed in other coverage)

In some dialogue wheels there is a “romantically inclined ‘emotional’ response” option. These are the replies that will build relationships with characters, romantic and platonic alike, but you can ignore them if you want to. Giving a companion the cold shoulder might nudge them into another companion’s embrace however

Bellara’s surname is Lutara

In the streets of Minrathous (in the opening segment of the game), there is a wide, winding pathway with a pub which has a dozen NPCs in it (is this The Swan tavern?)

The devs used the DA:TV CC to make each in-world NPC, except for specific characters like companions

There is smart use of verticality, scaling and wayfinding in the gameplay

If you play as e.g. a qunari Rook, the camera adjusts to ensure larger characters like them loom over those below. The camera also adjusts appropriately for dwarves to demonstrate their smaller stature

Neve Gallus is described as being capable

The Venatori Cultists we fight in the opening segment of the game are seizing the chaos caused by the demons unleashed by Solas’ ritual to try and take the opportunity to take over the city

As you traverse deeper and deeper into Solas’ hideout, more of his murals appear on the walls, and things 'get more elven'. Rhodes says “this is because you’re symbolically going back in time, as Minrathous is a city built by mages on the bones of what was originally the home of the elves”

At the heart of Solas’ hideout is his personal eluvian

Demons are fully redesigned in this game, on their original premise as creatures of feeling that live and die off the emotions around them. “As such, they are just a floating nervous system, pushed into this world from the Fade, rapidly assembled into bodies out of whatever scraps they find”

In the opening, we stop Solas’ ritual and save the world. “For now” anyways. Rook passes out moments later and wakes up in a dream-like landscape to the voice of Solas. He explains that a few drops of Rook’s blood interacted with the ritual, connecting them to the Fade forever. (I guess this is why they said in the Discord Q&A on June 14th that Rook has good reasons to want to avoid blood magic)

He also says that he was attempting to move Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain (confirming who the two Evil Gods are) to a new prison, because the one he had previously constructed was failing. Unfortunately, Solas is trapped in the Fade by our doing, and the two gods are now free. “It’s up to Rook to stop them”, thus setting the stage for our adventure

Rook wakes up after this with Harding and Neve “in the lair of the Dread Wolf himself”, a special magical realm in the Fade called The Lighthouse. It’s a towering structure centered amongst various floating islands. This is where the team bonds, grows, and prepares for its adventures. It becomes more functional and homier as you do. “Already, though, it’s a beautifully distraught headquarters for the Veilguard, although they aren’t quite referring to themselves as that just yet”.

Because it was Solas’ home base, it's gaudy, with his fresco murals adorning various walls, greenery hanging from above, and hues of purple and touches of gold everywhere. Since it’s in the Fade, which is a realm of dreams that responds to your world state and emotion, the Lighthouse “reflects the chaos and disrepair of the Thedas you were in moments ago”

Clock symbols over dialogue icons signal optional dialogue options

At this point you can head over to Neve, engage in dialogue, and try and flirt with her

There is a dining hall in the Lighthouse. A plate, cutlery and a drinking chalice are at the end of a massive table. Matt Rhodes says that this is a funny and sad look at Solas’ isolated existence, and an example of the detail BioWare’s art team has put into DA:TV. “It’s like when you go to a friend’s house and see their bedroom for the first time; you get to learn more about them”

There is also a library, which is the central area of the The Lighthouse. It’s here that the party will often regroup and prepare for what’s next

The team decides that it must reach the ritual site back in Arlathan Forest. Corinne Busche said that the writer was "missing unique dialogue options here because I’m qunari; an elf would have more to say about the Fade due to their connection to it. The same goes for my backstory earlier in Minrathous. If I had picked the Shadow Dragons background, Neve would have recognized me immediately, with unique dialogue”

The team decide their next move. They go to Solas’ eluvian and back through to the ritual site in Arlathan Forest. However, it’s not fully functional without Solas, and while it returns them to the Forest, it’s not exactly where they want to go. Then a demon-infested suit of mechanized armor known as a Sentinel attacks them, and two NPCs appear to save you: the Veil Jumpers Strife and Irelin. Harding recognizes them, which you would expect if you read the comic Dragon Age: The Missing. They are experts in ancient elven magic. A cutscene ensues and we learn that Strife and Irelin need help finding Bellara Lutara. This cutscene is long and has multiple dialogue options.

“There’s a heavy emphasis on storytelling and dialogue, and it feels deep and meaty, like a good fantasy novel. BioWare doesn’t shy away from minutes-long cutscenes”

For Rook, this story is about what does it mean to be a leader? We define their leadership style with our choices. “From the sound of it, my team will react to my chosen leadership style in how my relationships play out.” This is demonstrated within the game’s dialogue and a special relationship meter on each character’s companion screen

Bellara is deep within Arlathan Forest, and following the events of the prologue, something is up here. Three rings of massive rocks fly through the air, protecting what appears to be a central fortress. Demon Sentinels plague the surrounding lands.

In gameplay/combat, players complete every swing in real time. Special care was taken in development for animation swing-through and cancelling. We can dash, parry, charge moves, and a completely revamped healing system that allows us to use potions at our discretion by hitting right on the d-pad. You can combo attacks and even ‘bookmark’ combos with a quick dash, which means that you can pause a combo’s status with a dash to safety and continue the rest of the combo afterward

Abilities can be used to customize your kit. They can be used on the fly as long as you account for cooldowns

When you pause and pull up the ability Wheel, it highlights you and your companions’ skills. There you can choose abilities, queue them, target specific enemies, and strategize with synergies and combos

Each character plays the same in that you execute light and heavy attacks with the same buttons, use abilities with the same buttons, and interact with the combo wheel in the same way, regardless of which class you select

Sword and shield warriors can hip-fire or aim their shield and throw it like Captain America

Warriors can parry incoming attacks which can stagger enemies. Rogues have a larger parry window. The mage the writer played couldn’t parry at all. Instead they throw up a shield that blocks incoming attacks automatically, so long as you have the mana to maintain it

On the start/pause screen: it has the map, journal, character sheets, skill tree, and a library for lore information. You can use it to cross-compare equipment and equip new gear for Rook and their companions, build weapon loadouts for quick change-ups mid-combat, and customize you and your party’s abilities and builds via an easy-to-understand skill tree. There aren’t in-depth minutiae, just "real numbers". For example, an unlocked trait might increase damage by 25 percent against armor, but that’s as in-depth as the numbers get. Passive abilities unlock jump attacks and guarantee critical hit opportunities, while abilities add moves like a Wall of Fire to your arsenal if you’re a mage. As you spec out this skill tree, which is 100 percent bespoke to each class, you’ll work closer to unlocking a spec, complete with a unique ultimate ability

“Sentinels and legions of darkspawn”

Combat is flashy and quick, with different types of health bars. Greenish-blue represents a barrier, which is taken down most effectively with ranged attacks

The game is gorgeous, with sprinkles, droplets, and splashes of magic in each attack a mage unleashes

The game looks amazing on consoles both in fidelity and performance modes

The mission to find Bellara is called “In Entropy’s Grasp”. You find her. She is the first companion you recruit (as Neve auto-joins). If your background is Veil Jumper, you get unique dialogue here with Bellara. She explains that everyone there is all trapped in a Veil Bubble, and there’s no way out once you pass through it. Despite the dire situation, she is bubbly, witty, and charming. She is spunky and effervescent

Companions are the faces of their factions, and in this case with Bellara, their entire area of the world. She is our window into Arlathan Forest. She is described as a sweetheart and a nerd for ancient elven artifacts, which is why she’s dressed more like an academic than a combatant. Her special arm gauntlet is useful both for tinkering with her environment and taking down enemies. While Neve uses ice magic and can slow time with a special ability, Bellara specializes in electricity, and she can also use magic to heal you. Her electric magic is effective against Sentinels. “However, without Bellara, we could also equip a rune that converts my ice magic, for a brief duration, into electricity to counter the Sentinels”

If you don’t direct your companions in combat, they are fully independent and will attack on their own

You progress at this point through the Forest, encountering more and more darkspawn. Bellara says that they have never been this far before because the underground Deep Roads, which they usually escape from, aren’t nearby. However, with “blighted” (BLIGHTED!) elven gods roaming the world, and thanks to the Blight’s radiation-like spread, it’s a much bigger threat in DA:TV than any prior DA game

The Forest has elven ruins, dense greenery and disgusting Blight tentacles and pustules

The style of the game is more high fantasy than anything in the series thus far and almost reminiscent of the whimsy of Fable. Matt Rhodes says that this is the result of the game’s newfound dose of magic: “The use of magic has been an evolution as the series has gone on. It’s something we’ve been planning for a while because Solas has been planning all this for a while. In the past, you could hint at cooler magical things in the corner because you couldn’t actually go there, but now we actually can, and it’s fun to showcase that.” The Forest’s whimsy will starkly contrast to the game’s other areas. The devs promise some grim locations and even grimmer story moments because, without that contrast, everything falls flat. Corinne says it’s like a “thread of optimism” pulled through otherworldly chaos ravaging Thedas. At this point in the game, Bellara’s personality is that thread

We can advance our bonds with our companions on their own personal quests and by including them in our party on main quests. Every Relationship Level you rank up, shown on their character sheet, nets you a skill point to spend on them. “The choices you make, what you say to companions, how you help them, and more all matter to their development as characters and party members”. Each companion has access to 5 abilities.

Each companion has issues, problems, and personal quests to complete. “Bellara has her own story arc that runs parallel to and informs the story path you’re on” (They’ve said that all of the companions have this too in previous promo material)

You progress deeper into the forest and Bellara spots a floating fortress and thinks that the artifact needed to destroy the Veil Bubble is in there. To reach it, we must remove the floating rock rings, and Bellara’s unique ability, Tinker, can do just that by interacting with a piece of ancient elven technology nearby. Rook can acquire abilities like Tinker later to complete such tasks in instances where Bellara, for example, isn’t in the party

Bellara has to activate three of these in the Forest to reach the castle. Each one you activate brings forth a bunch of Sentinels, demons, and darkspawn to defeat

You can create Arcane Bombs on enemies. It does high damage after being hit by a heavy attack

It sounds like mage characters can charge heavy attacks on their magical staffs. “then switch to magical daggers in a second loadout accessed with a quick tap of down on the d-pad to unleash some quick attacks”

Some enemies are “Frenzied”, meaning that they hit harder, move faster, and have more health

After a few more combat sections, including against a Frenzied sentinel, we reach the center of the temple. In there is an artifact called the Nadas Dirthalen. Bellara knows that this means “the inevitability of knowledge”. Before we can progress, a darkspawn ogre boss attacks, hitting hard with unblockable, red-coded attacks and a massive shield that you need to take down first. It is weak to fire

After defeating it (it’s a climactic arena fight), Bellara uses a special crystal to power the artifact and remove it from the pedestal, which destroys the Veil Bubble. Then, the Nadas Dirthalen comes alive as an Archive Spirit, but because the crystal used to power it breaks, we learn little about this spirit before it disappears. Bellara thinks that she can fix it (fixing broken stuff is her thing), so the group heads back to the Veil Jumper camp. The writer’s demo then ended.

The design of the game is not open world. The devs describe it as a “hub-and-spoke” design where the needs of the story are served by the level design. A version of DA:I’s Crossroads return (the network of teleporting eluvians) and this is how players will traverse across northern Thedas. “Instead of a connected open world, players will travel from eluvian to eluvian to different stretches of this part of the continent”. e.g. Minrathous, tropical beaches, Arlathan Forest, “to grim and gothic areas and elsewhere”. Some of these areas are large and full of secrets and treasures. Others are smaller and more focused on linear storytelling. Arlathan Forest is an example of this, but it still has optional paths and offshoots to explore for loot, healing potion refreshes, and other things.

Each location has a minimap, though linear levels like In Entropy’s Grasp won’t have the 'fog of war' that disappears as you explore like in some of the game’s bigger locations

The game has the largest number of diverse biomes in DA history

The Thedas of DA:TV “lives in the uncertainty”. “the mystery of its narrative”, “the implications of its lore”

The writer is surprised by BioWare’s command over the notoriously difficult Frostbite engine, and by how much narrative thought the dev team poured into these characters, even for BioWare.

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[source: the Game Informer pages from Issue 367 - the cover story from June 18th (link), two]

[barcaatthemoon]

down bad || lena oberdorf x reader ||

your teammates tease you about your crush on lena.

your mouth went dry as you looked at lena's post. she looked good, ridiculously good if you were being honest. it was embarrassing how attracted to lena you were at times. your teammates definitely loved taking the mick out of you because of it. however, you liked to claim that it wasn't your fault that lena was so hot.

"what are you going to do when she gets here next month?" sydney asked as she threw her arm over your shoulder. you tried to play it cool, but the thought had been weighing on you for quite some time. you had no idea how you'd function with that hot german constantly around.

"maybe if i stick with magda, we'll never have to talk to each other," you tried. obviously it wasn't a good idea as sydney started laughing so hard that she was falling over. "i'll think of something."

you tried to push the thought of lena coming to the back of your mind, and you were successful for the most part. that meant when you received the email about all of the new signings coming a bit early, you didn't have time to prepare yourself to see lena. you just walked into an off-season training session to see her in the gym with sydney, pernille, and georgia.

"(y/n), over here!" georgia called out. she knew exactly what she was doing to you. georgia was one of the worst about your crush on lena. the only one who ever seemed to come to your defense was madga, but you couldn't see her anywhere. "have you met lena?"

"not officially," lena answered for you. she covered your hand with both of hers, shaking it gently before bringing it up to kiss your knuckles. your cheeks immediately turned pink, and for a moment, your other teammates didn't exist. "it's nice to meet you. i'm lena, but you can call me obi if you'd like."

"(y/n)," you mumbled. she smiled, and you thought you were going to die for a moment.

"it's a very pretty name liebe," lena told you. you just nodded dumbly until pernille took pity on you and ushered you away. once you were away from lena, you seemingly snapped out of whatever weird little trance she had put you in.

"what the hell was that? you have got it bad for her," pernille said. you covered your face in your hands and let out a quiet little scream of frustration. "i hate saying this, but you are pathetic honey."

"yeah," you agreed sadly.

it wasn't easy, but you managed to avoid lena for the rest of the day. throughout the following weeks, you'd run into her around the training facility or the coffee shop that sydney swore by. whenever you'd see each other, you'd always smile and wave, but she rarely tried talking to you. you thought that you were done for, that lena just thought you were a little freak she was better off not associating with.

once the pre-season started, things changed a bit. you found yourself not hanging around sydney or georgia's because lena always seemed to be around. you felt bad for ditching your friends with lame excuses, but you had yet to get a handle on your feelings for lena. it didn't help that you now shared a locker room and gym space together, so you got to see quite a few of the selfies she posted being taken in real time.

"pernille is worried about you," magda said as she plopped down next to you. you glanced over at the swedish defender, who had been one of your closest friends since chelsea. she was like your big sister, only much nicer to you than your actual siblings ever had been. you were sort of on your own before magda came along and unofficially had her parents adopt you. "sydney said that you haven't been over in a month. your friends miss you, even the ones you haven't made yet."

"what the hell does that mean? why do you always say cryptic shit?" you weren't proud of it, but you were huffing and puffing. it had been a hard month, and honestly, you were done with people trying to convince you to go out after practice.

"i mean that lena wants to be your friend. she was asking about you, i think she likes you." magda nudged you with her elbow, seemingly giddy about the idea of lena having a crush on you. magda hadn't seen you date anybody other than jessie, and while that had been a good relationship for the both of you, things just hadn't worked out.

"she doesn't like me. she's way out of my league. things haven't been good for me since jessie, and i don't want to subject lena to that shit," you sighed. magda wrapped her arm around your shoulders and held you in close. "maybe i should have stayed in england."

"absolutely not. now, you look at me and listen, okay?" magda waited for you to nod before she continued, "you're amazing, kid. the first breakup sucks, but then you go out there and find someone new. you fall in love until you find the right person. it's rare to find someone who can look at you the way lena does without really knowing you. i have it on good authority that you've been talked up quite a bit. lena will be here for a while, just like you, so why not give her a chance?"

"when did you get so wise?" you asked as you wrapped your arms around the back of magda's neck. out of the corner of your eye, you could see pernille watching the two of you. "oh, that's when."

"i told you she's worried about you, and she knows that you'll listen to me. now, go out there and charm the kit off of lena," magda told you. she pushed you off of the bench, where you fell ungracefully onto the floor.

"magda!" pernille chided. she threw her arms up into the air as she approached her partner. magda let herself be dragged away as lena made her way over to help you up.

"are you okay, liebe?" lena asked as she pulled you up onto your feet. she didn't let go of your arm, holding you close as the two of you spoke.

"i'm fine," you answered. lena let out a small sigh, seemingly in relief. you felt your cheeks heat up as she smiled at you. there was a distinct lack of privacy in the locker room, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care. "i think her plan the whole time was to shove me onto the ground."

"maybe, but look at us now." lena had a point, but you knew that you had to actually tell her that you liked her now. "i'll shove her later for you."

"definitely gonna take you up on that, but right now i think i have to tell you something," you said. lena was patient with you, waiting until you were ready to speak without pushing you there. "i think that you're really attractive, lena. i keep making a fool of myself around you, so i started to avoid you, but i like you. not in the way i like sydney or georgia, but in the 'i want to kiss you and am down terribly bad' way."

"hey, i'm a catch!" sydney scoffed. lena turned and glared at sydney, who promptly pretended that she wasn't eavesdropping. "sorry, go on."

"i like you a lot too. maybe after this we can get ice cream. i heard from a very reliable source that we like the same place," lena said. you caught georgia's eye from over lena's shoulder just in time to catch her wink. you smiled as you nodded, giving lena's hand a gentle squeeze.

"i'd like that, but for now, we should get to the pitch," you told her. lena nodded and let you grab your things. she walked alongside you out to the field, both of you falling into an easy conversation with each other.

…

"come on, get in closer," lena said as she pressed her body into yours. you weren't sure how you could possibly get any closer to her for the picture, but you let lena try. it was like this every single time the two of you went out somewhere. lena loved to show you off, even more than she liked showing off her own outfits anymore.

"lena, stop! you're gonna leave a mark," you whined as she started to suck on your neck. that wasn't the only reason you wanted her to stop, but if you admitted to being turned on, lena would never let you go. the woman could go from a complete gentlewoman to a teenage boy in an instant.

"you look good in purple though." lena pouted at you, but it didn't work. you turned to give her a quick kiss, careful to not linger too long in her arms. the two of you were meeting sydney and laura for dinner. it seemed that with every game came an outing with some of lena's german national teammates, all of whom were eager to meet you.

you had never thought that lena's feelings for you could have run in the same vein as yours for her. the attraction turned crush eventually forming into a budding love story. you had never thought of her viewing your stories and liking your pictures the same way that you had done hers. in hindsight, you felt stupid, but lena had been patient in waiting for you.

"please, do you want to give syd more to tease us about?" you asked. lena didn't mind the teasing as much as you did, but it bothered her to see when it pushed you too far. lena shook her head and promised to be on her best behavior for dinner where you learned how nice it was to not be the main focus on the teasing. you didn't think that you had seen lena blush as much as she did when laura brought up her constantly viewing your instagram page on international camps.

[seeingivy]

sharing

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

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things change slightly in the weeks that follow. 

according to your mom, who called you very upset on a tuesday afternoon, your dad had apparently decided to stay in town until the end of the month – and on very strict orders from sukuna and possibly any shred of self-preservation that you had in you – you weren’t going to be going back until he was gone for good. 

messages from sammy were few and infrequent, except for whenever she got drunk – something she very clearly got from your mom. always the same message, deeply apologetic and regretful, and it somehow was very slowly melting whatever it was that happened at the funeral. 

or it was just one of those things. 

she was your sister – she was blunt, a little harsh at times, but well meaning. or at least trying to be. but she was still your sister and for some reason, you were just going to get over it, in the real way, without thinking twice. 

but you do realize that it was too naive to think that years of butting heads and stepping on each other’s toes wasn’t going to go away just because you had decided to be friends and sang kumbaya while buying lingerie. 

that much should have been obvious though, since sukuna and yuuji had done their version of that years prior, and yet still had the meltdown they did a few months ago. it was always one of those complicated things you figured – growing up in the same house, being competition, stuck in admiration or hatred. 

the family business, one that sukuna and yuuji both refused to ever be a part of, has fallen at the seams. and while sukuna has no intention of ever working there – much to satoru’s delight – he’s fixing the mess of the finances that were left behind for all of the employees and the stipends that he were going to help his mom. 

meaning he has to go back to town. the town that you refuse to return to for the time being. and he won’t let you accompany him.   

and it’s in the week that he disappears that you wonder if you’re starting to be too codependent. if it’s normal for you to miss someone this amount, to worry about him so much, to the point where he occupies your every thought. 

he tries to call when he can. sometimes they’re a few in between because you know that he’s spending time with his mom, that he doesn’t like being home, that whatever it all is – it’s stressful and he hates it. 

your mom sends you a picture of him once in a while. sometimes you stare at it for a little too long. 

“hi sweet girl. how are you?” 

his voice sounds tired over the phone, the smallest hint of a rasp tinged in with the strained tone. 

“i’m okay, ryo. how are you?” 

sukuna can feel his heart sink at the nickname. at the fact that you use nicknames, terms of endearment, and he hasn’t heard them in days. 

“good, good. are you getting ready for bed?” sukuna asks. 

“yeah.” 

there’s a quiet beat. maybe you should have been more descriptive than that. that was a little flat. 

“is that fucking gel cat strawberry in the spot next to you?” 

you smile. 

“it’s a jelly cat. and yes, it is.” 

“enjoy it while it lasts. i’m going to throw it out the window when i get back.” 

“you’re so rude.” 

he laughs over the line and you can’t help but sigh before immediately regretting it. 

you wonder if he sleeps well. or if he laughs often with the moms or if he’s just run in different directions trying to make sure they’re all okay. 

“oh don’t break my heart, now. you miss me, sweetheart?” he murmurs. 

you can tell by the tone in the voice that he’s trying to coddle you. you almost want to give in just to hear him sweet talk you down. 

“yeah. gets real scary here without you.” you joke

“is that right?” 

“not actually. but you know like right before you go to sleep and the house creaks? i panic for one second and then decide that i should send a prayer out to the universe so i don’t die before falling asleep.” 

“always one for the dramatics.” 

“i know. i’m sure it always creaks but i’ve always shared a room – either with sammy or with mai across the way who was always blasting music. and you snore, so i never even not–” 

“i don’t snore.” 

“yes, you do.” 

“no, i don’t.” 

“i will admit. while it does take me some time to fall asleep, i’ve never slept so soundly with you gone. it’s so serene.” 

you know for a fact that sukuna’s rolling his eyes on the other side of the line. 

“wow, sweetheart. i should just do you a favor and stay here longer then.” 

“every night i wake up in a panic without you! i’ll never sleep again!” you joke. 

sukuna laughs. 

“that sounds about right. but really…i…i’ll be back soon, okay? i don’t like being away for so long.” he murmurs quietly. 

you frown. 

“don’t feel bad. you know you have to be there.” 

“i don’t feel bad. well, maybe i do a little but i mainly just fucking miss you.” he mumbles. 

you smile. 

“sap.” 

you pause. 

“i miss you too, you know?” 

“i was waiting for that. give me a little more.” he responds. 

you smile. mainly at the fact that he expresses what he wants so openly. or that he misses it just as much as you do. 

“i miss you a lot. it feels so weird to sleep in our bed without you that i fall asleep on the fold out couch.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“you mean you fall asleep watching tv and don’t move because i’m not there to pick you up?” 

“yeah, more like that.” 

sukuna laughs. 

“sleep in the guest.” 

“ew. it smells like yuuji and megumi’s cologne. and while they smell great, i don’t like smelling like them when i wake up.” 

“does our bed smell like me?” he asks. 

“yeah but i prefer the real thing so i sleep on the couch. i refuse to elaborate.” 

sukuna gets it. 

“i’ll be back soon, okay? i’m almost done and then…then i’m running back to you, alright?” he whispers. 

“okay. i do have something planned this weekend for your birthday, but don’t stress about it. it won’t be anything big.” 

sukuna pauses. 

he forgot that his birthday was coming around. 

he would be lying if he was saying that he wasn’t looking forward to it. he supposes that he was your opposite in that way. since no matter what it was, the circumstances good or bad, your birthday had been soured so bad that nothing could make it good – not even him. 

he didn’t blame you. or even take it personally.  

but he couldn’t relate. because he knew you – and it wasn’t arrogant of him to assume that you were going to go all out, no matter the circumstances. not only did you have a bad habit of leaving tabs or notes that were very clearly labeled gift ideas out in the open, but he knew that you would do something special for him, that he’d get to chart in all of the cherished memories that he had with you. 

it would be another sour patch of his that you’d sew right over, with careful and steady hands. but with every milestone that he thought of now, it was bittersweet. 

first birthday with you. first birthday without his dad – not that it really meant much in the first place. 

“no parties.” sukuna clarifies. 

“no, it’ll actually be just you and me. and i think you’ll like it, you–” 

“i’ll love it.” 

you smile. 

“i love you.” you state. 

he’s quiet on the other side of the line. 

“sukuna?” 

“i want to say it back but the moms are staring at me.” he mumbles quietly.

you smirk. 

“say it.” 

“no.” 

“you’re going to let me go to bed without an i love you?” 

“i’ll text it to you.” 

“ryomen sukuna. tell me you love me.” 

sukuna sighs. 

“i love you. call me if you can’t sleep, okay?” 

you can hear giggling in the background. and you’re sure he’s three different shades of pink. 

“i will.” 

--

not even an hour later, yuuji is standing on your doorstep – with a peachy smile and a bag slung over his shoulder. 

“yuuji? you–” 

“sleepover!” 

he walks past you and falls straight onto the couch, placing his bag next to him as he reaches for the remote. you quickly shut the door and take the spot next to him, watching as he starts shuffling through the movies, so cavalier about barging in so late and unannounced. 

“do you always show up to people’s apartment’s unprovoked with all your things?” 

yuuji smiles, reaching forward to flick your forehead. 

“no, just for you.” 

“figures.” 

you watch as he flits through all of the movies, nestling his head into your shoulder, as you return the gesture and lean your cheek against his. it takes two seconds for you to figure it out. 

“did he call you?” you ask. 

“he did. said some weird stuff about tables and carrying stuff. pretty sure he was just asking me to keep you company, which don’t mind if i do.” yuuji responds. 

you smile. of course. 

“i made one half joke about how i don’t like to sleep alone and he sent you running.” 

“isn’t that sweet? i can tell he’s been thinking about you a lot.” yuuji responds. 

you lean back, giving him a confused look. and you can tell by the look on his face that he knows exactly what you’re trying to get at, but pretends otherwise. 

“what? it’s sweet! he asked me to come take care of you.” yuuji clarifies. 

“since when do you find him sweet? no lecture about how he thinks i can’t handle things on my own?” 

yuuji scoffs, before pressing on the princess diaries. 

“you can’t take care of anything on your own.” 

“what a vote of confidence.” you deadpan

yuuji sighs, as you watch the movie start, and both sink deeper into the couch. a telltale sign that you realize both sukuna and yuuji have – one that you deeply appreciate – is that they’re always careful with their words. 

the opposite of sammy really, of your dad too. they won’t talk until they know whatever they’re going to say is something they mean. 

“you can take care of things on your own. but i like that being with him means that you don’t have to sometimes. for both of you.” yuuji states. 

you smile. 

“i like that too. it’s a nice change.” you respond. 

“i’m really sorry, y/n.” 

“i know.” 

yuuji swallows hard, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie before he turns to your side, your limbs now a tangled mess of being criss-crossed as he leans forward. 

“really. i’ve been so shit to you when this is all i’ve ever wanted for you.” 

“it’s okay. this…this stuff is really complicated for you and…” 

yuuji shakes his head, before looking down at your joined hands, fingers interlocked together. 

“this isn’t any excuse but…but…” 

yuuji sighs. 

“when sukuna came back, i thought he was really different. i mean, he was really different. i don’t know what you noticed, but he came back softer. he always gave me my space and let me come to him and we were working back through all of our stuff together.” yuuji starts. 

you’re not sure if you noticed a difference after he came back. he always seemed the same as always – a little withholding, like he was keeping you at arms distance. though, that seems to make more sense to you now. 

“but he’s still the brother i grew up with. there’s still things that i’m sensitive to, that…that i can’t get over.” 

you feel a pang in your chest. 

“i get that. you know…i kind of get that with sammy sometimes.” 

yuuji frowns. 

“yeah?” he whispers. 

you can feel the bitter contempt in your chest lingering. 

“i don’t know. i thought things were going well but…sometimes it’s just the same things as before. she’s just…always brushing me off. so harsh with her words. sometimes i think about the funeral and i’m glad sukuna’s not here just so i can lock myself in here and be alone.” 

you shake your head. 

“it’s like she’s picking at a scab. it’s the one thing i don’t want her to do and it’s the one thing that always happens. and she’s the only person who has that power in the first place, who…who gets to be that sore spot. and i know that it’s just how it is and it’s complicated but…” 

“but you can’t.” yuuji finishes. 

you shrug. 

“you were my scab.” yuuji states. 

you curl your nose in disgust, looking up to find the same expression mirrored on his face before you both laugh. 

“real cute.” 

“i mean…my thing with sukuna was that he was always better than me in every respect. that…that everything he did was perfect, that…that he was born normal and i wasn’t.” 

you cringe. 

“you are normal, you..” 

yuuji smiles. 

“i know i am. i just mean in my head, i always figured things were so easy for him. school was easy, sports were easy. he liked girls – he’d never have to sit there and debate if he was ever going to meet someone who liked him and when if he did, he wouldn’t have to give up his entire family for it.” 

yuuji pauses. 

“you were my best friend. you are my best friend. you’re my thing that’s always been easy. we don’t really fight, spending time with you never gets old, and…and really, you’re the only person i’ve known will always be around.” 

you smile. 

“it just felt like another thing he was going to be better at than me. and it’s selfish, but it was something i didn’t want to share. and i don’t expect you to get it, but…” 

you scoff. 

“don’t expect me to get it? you’re forgetting that i was the one who had to learn how to share you first. and maybe i didn’t say it out loud, but…i had some evil monologues for megumi that i was cooking up in my head.” 

yuuji laughs, almost like he’s relieved. 

“really?” 

“trust me. there was an entire basis behind the petty comments that i was making. i should have been more open with it but…but i don’t hate you for feeling that way. if anything, it makes me kind of happy, i guess. it did feel like you forgot all about me once you guys started dating, but…it’s nice to know you feel that way still. about me. even if it was annoying.” 

you pause. 

“you and i are special. and i can’t speak for you, but…sukuna’s never going to be what you are for me. i love him, but you…you’re not someone who could ever be replaced.” you affirm. 

yuuji smiles. 

“and megumi isn’t what you are for me either. he’s the love of my life. but you’re always going to be my soulmate.” 

you smile, rolling over the word in your head. soulmate – you and yuuji were soulmates. and he leans forward, placing his hands on your shoulder and squeezing. 

“now go on. tell me about him.” 

“what?” you ask. 

“i know you want to tell me about how happy you are. how it makes you feel. and i want to hear it. just refrain from talking about like how big his dick is or whatever and i’ll be fine.” 

you smile. 

“really? you mean it?” 

yuuji smiles back. 

“i’ve unfortunately heard the entire story of what that asshole was doing to you after the fact. it would make me really happy to hear how happy you are now.” 

you lean back on the couch and explain it all to him – french toast, bridgerton mugs (which he winces at when he remembers sammy broke them), emails, his coworkers, kisa, and everything in between. 

you don’t hear the apartment creak at night when you go to bed – instead it’s his labored breaths next to yours. 

--

sukuna makes it back early in the morning to find yuuji making breakfast in the kitchen and what he knows is you facedown still dead asleep in the mound of blankets on the couch. he gives yuuji a noncommittal wave before walking over to the couch and bending down at the side. 

sukuna can’t help but reach forward, brushing his back of his fingers against the softness of your cheek before tangling your hair away from your forehead. he can smell the remnants of the shampoo in your hair, your lips still a glossy pink from the balm you put on at night. 

“wake her up. give her a kiss.” yuuji whispers, now standing at his side. 

“are you crazy? she’s sleeping.” 

sukuna shakes his head, reaching forward to press a kiss to your hairline, before the two of them shuffle back to the kitchen. sukuna settles for a cup of coffee as he watches yuuji make the mix of french toast, the stillness hanging in the air between them. 

“dunno. if it were me and i went days without seeing megumi, i’d wake him up right away. why deprive myself of love and affection?” 

“you should deprive yourself more often. i’ve seen you two kiss far too many times. heard the words gumi bear way more than i’d like to.” 

yuuji snorts. 

“was she happy you came?” sukuna asks. 

“yeah. doubt she heard any of that creaking or anything she was telling you about since we were talking the entire time.” yuuji responds. 

it’s a small breath of relief – that sending yuuji was the right move – only to be coupled with guilt. 

sukuna hadn’t had time to check in on yuuji. 

“what did you talk about?” 

yuuji grins. 

“you.” 

yuuji looks over at him, grinning at him fully this time. 

“special edition bridgerton mugs? twilight themed emails? who knew you were so fucking corny? and that you watch bridgerton?” 

sukuna can feel his cheeks heat up, as he rolls his eyes. 

“she loves that shit. she made me watch it.” 

“no, she didn’t. she told me that you had watched it already and that your favorite season is the first one? not only are you a liar but you have god awful taste.” 

“let me guess. you like kate and anthony, like every other person on the fucking planet?” 

yuuji rolls his eyes. 

“everyone likes it for a reason. it’s perfect.” 

the two of them glare at each other, before giving up, and letting the same stillness take over. it’s not exactly uncomfortable, but there’s something lingering there – the two of them are stuck in their own heads about how they’re going to approach it, and more importantly, who is going to do it first. 

it’s yuuji. 

“the mugs thing is sweet. i’m sorry sammy broke them.” 

sukuna shrugs. 

“i’m bidding on ebay. no big deal.” 

yuuji notes that he responds to the second part of the statement and not the first. 

“i like that you do nice things for her. she really appreciates that you do.” yuuji repeats. 

 sukuna sighs. 

“did she say that?” 

yuuji smiles. 

“all that and more. she really loves you.” 

sukuna lets his eyes wander back to the couch, settling back into how foreign the apartment feels from being away for so long, and trying to let it all come back to him – how it was before he left things, how the two of you were. 

he’s scared he’ll do it wrong. 

“I’m really happy for you too. she’s exactly what you deserve.” yuuji states. 

it’s a weird sense of deja vu that sukuna gets – of the very first night. that loud bar, the mildew smell in the bathroom, and your tear streaked pink face. of the very first time that it occurred to him that there were people who had upset you, who had let you down, and that maybe he was the only person who was good enough for you – because he was the only one who intended to give you what you deserve. 

that he got to reap the goodness of the sweet love when he knew for a fact that he’d always be one to give it back to you, no matter how he was. that he was exactly what you deserved – maybe the only person who was because of how much he loved you. 

“what?” 

yuuji takes a beat. 

“were you expecting the opposite?” yuuji asks. 

“do you blame me?” 

yuuji shakes his head. 

“i am really happy for both of you. but i wouldn’t lie if i said i was more happy for you. i’ve known her a long time – and i’ve always wanted her to have someone who saw her for how special she is. and i always knew that it would happen, it was just a matter of time.” 

yuuji continues. 

“but i’m more happy for you. i had no idea that you had liked her for that long. i only now realize that the only person you could be that open with is her. and well…i don’t fucking know. shit sucked when we were kids. maybe for all of us, but for you the most. i know she loves hard. and i mean it, that’s what you deserve after everything.” 

there’s a lump in sukuna’s throat. he wants to tell yuuji everything – about why he left, about how him being around made it easy for him for a long time, how there was a time where he didn’t think he was going to live past twenty and now he’s reaching yet another birthday on the weekend. 

“i spent my entire life thinking i’d never get to be in love. and i’m not sure if that’s what you thought – but i know you weren’t ever thinking you’d get the girl of your dreams, and that on top of that, that it would be perfect. but really. it’s nothing more than what you deserve, sukuna.” 

but all he does is give him a nod. yuuji’s smart enough to parse what it means – that in the long rambling that he heard last night – he knows he has to learn how to read the silences, the quiet cues. 

“it means a lot to her that you came around.” sukuna starts. 

sukuna clears his throat. 

“and to me too.” he finishes. 

yuuji smiles. 

“and i suppose i should thank you. i always said she was like family to me, but it’ll be nice to tell people she’s actually my sister in the future.” yuuji responds, before squeezing his shoulder. 

sukuna smiles. 

“do you really let her call you ryomen?” yuuji asks. 

“yeah.” 

“thought you hated that name.” 

“i did.” 

there’s a reason that he went by sukuna. because every time that he slipped, he’d hear that godwful venomous voice, of his father telling him that he had given him such a special family name – and that sukuna had done nothing to deserve it. 

sukuna vividly remembers when he was a kid, when he used to beg everyone around him to call him sukuna, correcting them until they virtually forgot that his name was ryomen in the first pace. 

sukuna can feel the dryness in his throat, accompanied with a burning wetness in his eyes. yuuji makes no comment about it. 

“she just says it with so much love.” 

sukuna pauses, trying to will away that rising wave of emotion that was simmering in his chest, and put it away for the time being. 

“what did she get me for my birthday?” sukuna asks. 

yuuji nods. 

“she’s taking you on a weekend trip. a few cities over. she said there’s some cherry blossoms in season and that there’s a few museums that she wants you to see. figured it would be a nice rest for you given everything that’s been going on.” 

sukuna sighs, only because the wave comes back in full force. 

to be loved is to be known. 

clear cut proof that you had heard him loud and clear, when he had bared his soul to you. and not only that, but had known well enough that whatever was stewing in his head was getting dangerously close, maybe the closest it had been in years, to the edge – and that you had every intention to pull him back in the way he had pulled himself out in the first time. 

“is that good?” yuuji asks. 

“it’s perfect.” sukuna responds, before giving him one last nudge. 

sukuna decides that he won’t deprive himself. and instead leans forward, pressing his lips against yours – and pleasantly surprised when you smile right back at him in your sleep, his name honey on your lips, as he sinks into your arms. 

--

an: kind of filler again. sorry. apologies. also two more of this fic before it's done :O

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani78 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

[x0xomady]

can you give us a lil blurb story? 🥹🙏🏽 like maybe harry and his gf are just chillin listening to music? idk

put your records on

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summary: little blurb about how harry takes you on a date to the record store and it finishes with a listening session at his house.

rockstar!harrystyles x female reader

warnings: some allusions to smut but nothing NSFW! this is all cute fluff

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the hardest part of being the girlfriend of a rockstar is that theres never enough time. we never have enough time to cuddle, talk, etc. harry’s always in the studio or he’s in another country on tour.

don’t get me wrong, i LOVE dating a rockstar. i love watching him play for millions of people, i love listening to his music, it’s all really great. until i want to spend some private time with my boyfriend, then it’s horrible.

today harry was finally able to get some time off. so, we’re going back to our roots and shopping for vinyls together.

i followed harry through the aisles as he perused the dusty shelves, his long fingers tracing over the spines of the albums. i couldn't help but steal glances at him as he browsed, admiring his relaxed demeanor.

his expression is so carefree, with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. it was moments like these that i cherished, when he was able to put aside his stage persona and simply be himself.

harry and i have always had pretty different music tastes. harry, being the rock obsessed hippie he is, always chose the albums from the 60s and 70s. i on the other hand, always went for the 90s r&b.

i walk down the aisle and see one of my favorites, sade. i grin and look at the album knowing harry hates her slow love music.

my hands quickly grab the album and hold it up, turning to face him with a cheeky grin on my face.

“we have to get it h.”

harry groans and rolls his eyes playfully.

“not sade, please. her music is so boring.” he says, trying to sound annoyed but failing to hide his amusement.

“aww you don’t like cheesy romance songs?” i smile and wave the record in his face teasingly.

“cheesy isn't the word i'd use, more like sleep-inducing.” harry snorts, swatting at the record in my hand. “but you can get anything you want, my love.” he smirks and slaps my bottom before walking past me down the aisle of records.

i drop the album into our tiny basket of vinyls. we've picked out about four different albums so far and the pile is only growing.

harry picks up a record, a grin across his face as he flips around to face me.

“oh and this right here- this is the real art.” he smirks and holds up his self titled album.

i scoff playfully and shake my head. “oh wow i don’t think i’ve ever seen that one before” i say with a giggle, taking the album from him.

harry pretends to be offended, placing a hand on his heart dramatically.

“hey now, that’s my masterpiece. you should be more respectful to your favorite rockstar darling.” he grins and kisses my cheek before placing his album back in it’s spot.

“oh yeah right, you’re so humble too.” i tease, playfully nudging him with my shoulder. harry is actually one of the most humble people but i can’t boost his ego by telling him that.

harry grins and picks up another record from one of the shelves.

“ah okay last one” he holds up “Wild Heart” by Stevie Nicks.

“okay that’s actually the last one, H.” i smile and drop the stevie nicks album on top of our little stack.

harry grins and glances at the little collection we have piled up in our basket.

“yeah i think we’re done."

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“IF I SHOULD DIE TONIGHT, OH, BABY-”

harry lays on the floor with his head in my lap while he belts out marvin gaye to annoy me. the speakers record player cracked softly while the song played out.

i roll my eyes playfully and lightly smack his head. “you’re so annoying” i laugh, running my fingers through his fluffy brown hair.

the two of us are laying on the floor of his home music studio. when he was designing his house, he built this room with long shelves for all of his record collection.

the room is cozy. there’s a fuzzy carpet on the floor, little string lights on the walls, and posters on the ceiling. since we started dating, it has become our favorite spot, where we come to spend time with each other.

“baby i can’t help it the music is possessing me!” he gasps dramatically and belts out the song louder.

i groan loudly and cover my ears. “harry you’re horrible!!” i giggle, and look down at him.

“oh really? tell that to him” he grins and nudges me with the grammy that he had stuck googly eyes on.

i roll my eyes and smack his chest. “yeah yeah get over yourself, pretty boy.” i say as i try to hold back a smile.

“hey-” he gasps dramatically when the song switches to “lets get it on” by marvin gaye.

“uh oh babe i think i might have to listen”

“please no-” i groan and cover my eyes.

before i can register what he’s doing harry tackles me onto the floor and starts kissing me all over the face.

i squeal and squirm under him, giggling like an idiot. i always feel like a love drunk idiot when i’m with this curly headed man.

“harry stop!!” i gasp between my laughs, pushing him playfully.

“nope sorry babe. we gotta get it on.”

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this was so stupid i’m sorry.

-xoxo

[bizbat]

Kill for Her - Jason Todd x Reader - 1

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Fem terms used for reader.

~ Mild smut alluded to but nothing explicit.

~ Reader's appearance is not described.

~ Parts one, two, three, and four, as well as my other works, can be found here!

~ Also please lmk how i can improve the masterlist if you do end up checking out my other works!!! (:

~ Thank you so, so much for everyone who requested more crazy jason! ILLYYYY (p.s. thank you for being so patient with this, ik it took forever omg)

~ Wc: 1.4k

~ Tw: (Very) Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics and All that Comes with it, Mentions of Having Children, Jason Todd is Not a Good Person in this, Pet Names, Nausea, Angst, Blood and Violence, Variety in Themes, Cringe maybe (lmk)

"Break up?" You think you can just "break up" with Jason Peter "I've never been in a real relationship bc I died as a teenager and I have serious deep running abandonment issues stemming from my more than troubled childhood" Todd?

Funny.

Real funny.

But yk what he doesn't think he really likes that joke and maybe you should actually never tell it again, okay? ((:

It doesn't matter what way you try to approach the subject. Kind, playing into his delusions about being a real couple? You're overthinking things, but that's fine, he loves you anyways.

Yelling, crying, screaming for him to get the fuck out of your home and go die? You're probably just being dramatic, but that's okay, you're sassy, he's sassy, match made in heaven!

The man is kookoo. He genuinely believes that you're destined to get married to each other and either have or adopt a ton of children and he's gonna be the best dad ever and you'll be a wonderful mom ever and blah blah blah blah.

And I've barely scratched the surface of all his crazy, it runs deep.

~ Drabble Starts Here. ~

He'd kill for you. Without a doubt.

He's always figured, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he might have to go back on his word to Bruce for your sake, that he might have to further stain his own soul and hands to keep yours clean, to protect you, to protect your relationship. It's not something he's too particularly worried about, to him, you might as well be the only living person on the planet anyways. Don't get him wrong, he loves his family, to the moon and back and more (don't tell them that), but if there were two people left on the planet, and one of them was you, and the other was him, he thinks the world might finally be fair. That life might finally be kind to him.

And with reasoning like that, whispered into your hair at night when he thinks you're asleep, how could you be so cruel as to break his heart? How could you when he begs, begs you not to see how evil he thinks he is at night when he's been up too late and his brain starts to tell him cruel things about himself? When he brings you a gift every time he sees you. Granted, they're stolen, and granted, he broke into your home. But they're exemplary of his devotion to you nonetheless. Or at least that's how you see it, that's how you see him.

It's true, Jason has lived a life more than deserving of pity, of kindness and support. That's part of why you feel nauseous right now, your hands, slightly clammy, nervously wring the hem of the shirt you're wearing. It's big on you, hanging down past your thighs. You can't remember if it's his or yours. Your tongue feels too big in your mouth, and your knee is bouncing so much you're sure the muscles in your calf are well defined by now.

The reason you feel so ill as you wait for him at 12:48 AM, your eyes flicking back and forth between the clock on your phone and your TV currently playing reruns, is because tonight is the end of it. The end of Jason breaking into your apartment with a spare key he had made without your knowledge, or your window when you switch your lock for the umpteenth time. The end of you waking up next to him in your bed when you know he wasn't there when you went to sleep. The end of his overly personal nicknames that allude to a relationship you've told him time and time again that you Do. Not. Have.

Tonight you're "breaking up with" Jason Todd. If you weren't on edge you might laugh at the thought. You and Jason have (at least in your adamant opinion) never agreed to date. He never asked you out, he just started, well, acting the way he acts; breaking into your home, stealing random articles of clothing that he has a particular interest in, acting like your boyfriend. But it's been months. You're tired.

"Jason!" You say, surprised at his sudden appearance. You guess you got too caught up in your thoughts. He smells like metal. You're worried about what he might've been getting up to, but that's not your main focus at the moment.

He hears your voice sing his name as he walks into your shared apartment, through the door this time. He knows how much you hate it when he comes in through the window. He's happy to see you, albeit a little surprised, you're usually asleep by this time. You must've stayed up for him, a smile rises to his lips at the thought. "Hiya doll, what're you doing up so late?" He's clearly exhausted, even though he's turning in relatively early, it now being 1:29, he's already had a long, long night. A long, painful, violent night.

All he wants right now is to lay beside you, to rest his head on your chest and hear your heartbeat. It's his second favorite sound in the world. The first being those gorgeous noises you make when he's got his head between your thighs and your fingers in his hair-

He's pulled from his thoughts at the sight of your lip tucked between your teeth, the worry on your face more than evident. His smile drops as he hangs up his signature leather jacket on the coat rack beside the door, and slowly makes his way over to you. "You okay, doll? What's wrong?" He asks you with such sincerity, like he really does care. And the worst part is you know he does.

"We . . . we need to talk, Jason." He can hear how nervous you are just by the way your voice quivers as you address him. It always makes his heart hurt when he hears that. You avert your gaze, unable to look at him at this moment. You breathe deeply, trying to calm your heart and quell the bile fighting to come out. You need to do this, and you need to do it now. "I . . ." You barely manage to warble out, clenching your jaw before bracing yourself. "I want to break up with you Jason." You say after taking a deep breath through your nose.

This is it, you did it. You can feel the saline tears rising to your waterline, but you aren't sad at all. You swallow the massive lump in your throat as you wait for his response, your hands furiously gripping your shirt, an unreadable expression on his face. He just . . . stares for a moment. He doesn't blink, he doesn't frown, he doesn't start sobbing, fall to his knees, beg you to change your mind.

He doesn't do anything. The longer his stillness goes on, the more and more your confidence deteriorates. Your shoulders drop from their tense state, your lip quivers, and your ears ring from how dead silent the room seems to be. "Jason . . ." He's barely blinking, his head slightly cocked, his hands limply dangling at his sides. "I said," You clear your throat, not favoring how weak you sound. "I said I want to break up with you. I don't want to date you anymore." You know he heard you, but you repeat yourself nonetheless.

The longer the two of you sit in silence, the harder it is to stomach it. Your hands shake as they grip your shirt, the fabric wrinkles in your tight grasp, your chest feels like all of your ribs have turned into snakes and started squeezing and constricting around your pounding heart. His eyes pierce your soul, the usually deep pits now shallow and glassy. Eventually, the second that he sees a single drop of water fall down your cheek he seems to snap out of it.

The life, the color returns to his face and eyes, as if he was just woken out of a deep trance at the mere sight of your tears. Then, perhaps most disturbingly, he laughs. A cold, icy chuckle that slides off his vocal cords and freezes the room. It sounds almost plastic, rehearsed, like he's practiced it in the mirror hundreds of times in preparation for moments like this. "That . . ." he wheezes between bouts of fake laughter. "That was really funny, babe, you almost had me there."

Jason runs a hand through his hair, disguising the act as if he's trying to gather himself when really, he's resisting the urge to grip on the strands of inky black until they rip from his scalp. He's still pretending to collect himself as he slips past your form, still standing almost perfectly still, into your room. You don't even remember the rest of the night. You don't remember what either of you said, what either of you did, all you remember is following him into the room, being coaxed into bed, and resting your swirling head on his chest as his arms wrapped so, so tightly around your shoulders.

Jason doesn't sleep well that night, even with you safely tucked into his arms. It was a joke, it was a joke, it was a joke. That's what he tells himself. Over and over in his head, bouncing off the walls of his skull; it was a joke, it was a joke, it was a joke. It must be, it has to be. His sweet Y/n, who knows what he's been through, who knows he's never had anything, and anything he has ever had was ripped from his hands, his Y/n would never be so cruel.

She'd never leave him. He couldn't let her. Not when he'd die for her, not when he'd kill for her.

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 10

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, hurt, language, Soldier Boy gets hurt, PTSD, mention of drugs, mention of torture, reader gets hurt

Word Count: 4245

A/N: English is not my first language.

♩ This is the song of the chapter, 'Alone and Together' by No Clear Mind.

When Ben sat down on the bed and waited, neither of you said anything or did anything for a while. You hated how he still treated you, so you turned your back on him while closing your eyes and avoiding the heavy feeling in your heart. You wanted to let things go, but you also felt like you had a lot to say to him about how deeply his actions had wounded you and how much you still suffered. You stayed mute because you knew that talking about it would only make things worse and give him the impression that you still cared.

All you longed for was for him to see how much his acts had hurt and pained you and to realize just how selfish he was. But you eventually realized that Ben wasn't someone who would actually listen to you, even for a brief moment. Even if you decided to give him another chance and let him get close to you again, he would still hurt you without considering the consequences or your feelings; therefore, it was best to let the past die in the past and leave memories of both joy and sorrow behind. These blissful days would never return.

You were ruminating so much that you shifted on the bed until your chest reached the edge, making it obvious that you didn't want to come into contact with him. Ben seemed to pause due to your behavior. 

“I don't bite,” he said, annoyed that you were making every effort to avoid him. This ended the quiet that lingered between you. “You can come a little closer. Sleep comfortable.” 

“I am comfortable.”

He sighed with annoyance as he made his way to the bed. Ben considered drawing a little closer to you, but he quickly dismissed this idea. You would become upset based on your response to his touch and your fragile attitude. Even though he didn't know you were in his thoughts at all times, he felt extremely hungry and affectionate toward you ever since he woke up. And though every cell in his body was screaming to be near you, to touch you, and to hold you close to him, the realization that you didn't feel the same way made him feel a little insecure—a feeling he wasn't used to experiencing in his connection with you.

He whispered, “You'll fall there,” in an attempt to persuade you.” I'm not going to touch you.” Again.

“It won't hurt if I fall, though.” In an attempt to find some solace, you took the entire blanket from him and placed it between your thighs. “I'm a supe too, remember?” you exclaimed. 

Ben leaned down at the head of the bed, his veiny and powerful arms supporting his head while he stared at his bare chest and tried not to smile when you took the blanket away from him a little too firmly. 

He abruptly muttered, “I'm sorry,” in a dry voice, trying to start a conversation while he continued to glance at your back and listen to your quiet, gentle heartbeats. 

“For what?”

How should he respond? For shoving you into the bed, sucking your nipples, kissing you out of the blue, and attempting to fuck you like a wolf in heat? Taking a big breath, he folded his arms across his chest and scowled, not knowing quite what to say. He didn't used to talk to you like this since you weren't that far away from him before he screwed things up. 

You attempted to contain your rage and kept your eyes closed because you didn't want to get into another fight with Ben, and you knew how sensitive his nerves were. You were also feeling a little anxious about his new, unpredictable abilities.

“Just don't do it again,” you simply said, trying to sound calm but firm. “I am serious, Ben.”

He wanted to argue, but he was at a loss for words. He answered, “Of course,” in a low voice, knowing that he shouldn't have behaved in that manner before speaking with you in an appropriate way.

Ben knew you moved too much when you slept, so even though he wanted to be near you, he went to the edge of the bed to give you enough room to make you feel comfortable and sleep in peace. While he listened to your calm breathing and watched as you swiftly fell off to sleep, he reminisced on your shared memories and felt sorrow for all that had happened between you, including how much he had messed up. He realized it would be difficult to win back your trust, but he knew he would do everything in his power to do so. He just didn't know how.

This morning, just after changing into your new clothes in the restroom, you ate breakfast quietly as Butcher and his buddies talked about Vought and the Seven. When Annie began to dispute with Butcher and Hughie, you did not interrupt them—in contrast to Ben, who was also having arguments with Butcher—and instead concentrated on your meal. 

“I'm just saying consuming those Temp-V's doesn't sound safe, and you're forcing Hughie to inject it in himself too,” Annie pointed to Hughie's face as he attempted to eat breakfast quietly.

Hughie stated, “He's not pressuring me. I'm taking Temp-V on my own initiative, and I find it to be really helpful,” he said quietly. Annie shot him a cold stare, which instantly caused him to stop talking. 

“Why the fuck are you all attacking me?” Butcher spoke while lifting his arms. “Temp-V is absolutely secure. It only grants us superpowers for a full day. Is there any damage in this” 

“Oh my god,” Annie muttered, irritated with Butcher's impetuous behavior. “Don't you think it's a bit atypical to play with your DNA that fluently?” 

“So what?” Annie was cut off by Ben's stern voice. “Even if it harms their biology, it's not wrong to use it since it's better to die than to live like a weak pussy.”

Butcher instantly agreed with Ben: “Soldier Boy's got a point,” and he gave Hughie a tight squeeze. “Besides, we are just a bunch of annoying losers against the Seven and Vought. You have to find them more for us because we need to use all of this trash. I don't want to shatter your little heart, love, but all you do is consume up my electricity, and right now we are outnumbered against them.”

Annie's jaw tightened as she glanced at Butcher, her eyes suddenly brightening with a deep shade of yellow. 

“Maybe your electricity can be useful at some points; what do you say?”

“Hey,” Butcher grinned at her and added, “Let's not spoil our family meeting. Stay calm. That's not how you keep your man, right?”

Hughie put his hand Annie's and softly said, “Can we talk about this later?”

Annie sighed angrily, shoving Hughie's hand away from her and getting to her feet, adding, “You know, I need to go, and we'll definitely talk about this again.”

As Butcher said Annie farewell before leaving the house after their argument, you and Ben were observing their facial expressions. Hughie looked at Ben, irritated, as he took his phone from him and began to play with it. You weren't asking anything, but you were occasionally peering in,om him even though you were rather interested in what he was doing with the phone. 

“We need two phones just like this one.” Ben abruptly said, “One for her, one for me,” holding up the device to Butcher's face. 

“Are you a teenager obsessed with technology?” He was instantly teased by Butcher, who gave him one of his nasty smiles. 

Ben looked at Hughie, who was kindly asking for his phone back, and said, “If you are not going to give us two phones, I'm going to take this,” but Ben wasn't even paying attention to Hughie at all. 

“Alright, we'll get your phones. Could you please return mine to me?” 

With a quick motion, you grabbed the phone out of Ben's hand and delivered it to Hughie while smiling. With a look of graditude on his face, he returned your shy smile. 

Ben said, glaring at Butcher's face, “Today,” giving Hughie no attention. 

“Alright,” Butcher agreed. “We'll buy your phones today and make sure you two watch the best porn and make yourself busy, alright?”

“Ben is a man of actions; he likes to screw every kind of woman in real life,” you sarcastically remarked, grimaced at Butcher's remarks and folding your arms over your chest. 

Ben immediately asserted, “I don't,” and you asked Butcher, “Can we already move to the place we're going to stay in?” without giving him the chance to respond to you. 

“Sure, sweetie, but let me have my breakfast in peace, and then we can leave.”

You watched the TV and the news until Butcher and the others finished their meal, which was less than an hour ago. You looked for any updates regarding Earving, but there was nothing at all. Everything on every channel was Homelander and political crap. 

You could tell he was a dangerous man by the way he used language, his professionalism in interviews, and his controlled facial expression. It appeared that Vought had discovered the ideal obedient superhero that fit their preferences.

Ben quietly murmured, “Hey, we're leaving,” as you were lost in idleness. 

You nodded to him, got up, and watched him pick up his shield from where he'd put it yesterday on the corner. That was the moment you realized you had never really used your powers. Since you weren't safe at all and you weren't sure whether you were experiencing any hidden side effects like Ben, you realized you wanted to exercise as soon as possible.

After leaving Kimiko and Frenchie at home, Butcher and Hughie took you to the place where you and Ben will be living for a while. Hughie kindly assisted you in learning how to use the phones that Butcher had purchased for you and Ben. You learned how to make calls easily, at least. Ben had complained that you just required his number and that no one else's was needed, but you disregarded him and asked Hughie to record everyone's number on your phone.

While you were looking over the house, Ben placed his shield in a corner. Despite its small size, you felt safer there than you would in the city since it was isolated. The smell of this place, which was like a forest, finally helped you to relax after the sickeningly heavy and dirty air of the city center.

Butcher put his hand in his pocket and stated, “You're just going to stay here for a while until me and my boys sort things out with the Vought and until you are a bit forgotten by the angry people of America. I'm telling you, though, don't leave the house. If you do, I'll know. I will occasionally check on you.”

“Go suck a friend's balls and make sure he puts his jizz in your empty mouth.” Ben scowled in frustration, set down the closest coach, and put his hands behind his head. “All you do is talk for fucks sake.”

Cursing him back in a mocking manner, Butcher dragged you into a corner and said, “You seem like a more reasonable supe than him, don't you? You should

stay inside the house, dear. I mean it. You have all you need here, and it's a pretty safe location. I will come see how you're doing.”

“Alright, alright.” You nodded to him after glancing at Ben, who had already begun watching TV, but you knew that he was keeping his ears on Butcher and you. “But what will happen afterwards?”

“You hand that off to your teammate and me. There are a lot of things to do here, and you'll have time to think about your future.”

“I just don't want to get sucked into something dangerous; I'm not a bad person, and I've already gone through a lot.” It felt uncomfortable to share your anxieties with him, but you knew you had to be clear from the beginning and that they needed to understand you.

“I don't even know how to fix things between myself and this country,” you added, crossing your arms over your chest. “And no offense, but I don't trust you and your friends at all.”

Ben grimaced as he heard your intimate conversation with Butcher, during which you confided your anxieties to him. Given that you had known one another for a long time, had an extensive amount of memories, and experienced similar experiences, he ought to have been the one with whom you opened up about everything. The idea that you would trust a complete stranger—someone you had just met—irritated Ben. He should have been to one you opened yourself. It was something else Ben needed to solve with you. 

Ben also knew that, as long as you were with him, nobody could hurt you. He would never be tricked again, and that is the sole reason he was captured. He would ensure that no one, not even himself, could ever hurt you again. 

“You have no other chance but to trust me and my boys though, right? Why being so ungrateful? I'm taking of you two well enough,” said Butcher with a sly smirk and gave you squeeze to your shoulder shortly just before he left the house.

None of you spoke as Butcher left the house, but after a while, you felt his heavy eyes on you as he shifted postures on the couch and watched the TV in silence.

Ben listened to you while you were taking a shower when he grew tired of watching television. Although he wasn't intentionally focusing on you, his supe hearing was drawn to you while you were around. He was compelled to listen to every sound you made. He couldn't deny that your presence soothed him either. Ben didn't care what the reason was as long as you were with him at that particular moment, which might have been anything different, something deeper, or the fact that you were the only person he actually trusted. He knew what you had was special.

You returned to the room after a long shower, changed into clean, gratefully new clothes, and saw him pour whiskey into his glass. You wondered whether his body could withstand a day without drugs or alcohol. 

“Why are you looking in such a way?” Ben took a sip of his drink and asked in a lighthearted manner. “I'm curious about what you're thinking right now.”

“I was wondering if you could just give up drinking or using drugs for a single day,” you asked, getting annoyed that he seemed okay with everything. happening. 

“I survived for decades without using them, sweetie,” he murmured, instantly putting an evil grin on his face. 

You changed the topic and said in a low voice, “Do you think they'll trick us? They can easily fill this house with the same gas that made us sleep for ages.”

Ben instantly stiffened up and felt aggressive as he considered the idea of being betrayed by teammates once more and returning to the lab in Russia. When he considered the years he wasted and the treachery he had experienced—years without you—it was difficult to contain his rage. 

He filled his glass once more and remarked, “They might try.” His eyes remained fixed on yours. “I doubt they would dare do such a thing. They really want that Homelander guy dead and are most likely attempting to kill that man for a very long period, but it seems that they ultimately fall unsuccessful.”

You shivered and felt uneasy when he brought about Homelander, and you whispered, “There has to be a reason why they can't handle a single supe, Ben.”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “They are just some weak, useless piece of shitbags, that's it, and that's why they need me.” 

“I watched Homelander, that man, on TV. He is undoubtedly skilled at manipulating the public and the media, and in today's society, power seems to be much more significant.”

“Remember what Butcher said: People easily forget, and they'll forget him as well when they realize he's not the strongest supe at all.” 

You scowled in annoyance at seeing Ben had no longer cared about the world or how things were working at all. You didn't know if he was up to something or whether he simply didn't give a damn other than killing Homelander. 

“Ben, I don't believe that getting rid of Homelander will resolve anything from our side. Can't you see how everyone hates me and you at the moment? If you attack Homelander and Vought, things will only become worse.” You replied angrily, annoyed by Ben's careless demeanor, “Butcher and his crew just want to use you against him.”

As he argued with you, Ben let go of the empty glass he was holding and sighed as he observed your annoyance growing. He trusted your strength, but at some point, he became uneasy about your vulnerability.

Ben vowed to destroy Vought and all Seven members when he was set free that day and began searching for you. He understood that the only way to get things going right would be to resolve the issue between you, him, and Vought. He would take over the whole company and form his own new team, proving to the world that he was the strongest supe and that nobody could stop him. In that way, he would be protecting you most importantly. For the time being, though, it was better the less you knew.

Ben said in a determined voice, “I won't let anything happen to you,” as he came nearer to you. Despite being too close and yearning to touch you, he refrained from doing so. “I would never let someone hurt you ever again.”

With a heavy heart, you whispered, “The only one who hurt me was you, Ben,” stepping back and creating some distance. Everything you wanted to say to his face was eating you alive, and you felt like you would blow out at any moment. “It seems like you didn't take any lessons from your mistakes, and you're going to make me drown with you again.”

He said, “I made a deal with Butcher,” ignoring your comments as he saw the sorrowful, icy look on your face. “I promised him that I would help him kill Homelander, and he would help me save you. A deal is a deal.”

Ben wanted you to know that he wasn't just going to break his word; in fact, what he was doing was for you. He was so desperate to find you that day that he was willing to kill Vought's top supe and everyone in a heartbeat. 

“Since when are you so keen on keeping your word?” You asked in a bitter voice. 

Ben was ready to tell you not to think about the past, but he stopped himself because he knew it would hurt and infuriate you even more. Instead, he whispered, “Since right now,” softly, and he slowly stepped forward to confront you. He simply knew it was time to have some conversation. “Look, I know what happened between us in the past wasn't just right, and I wasn't fair to you, but let me fix things.”

Perplexed by his words, you said, “Let you fix things?” Remembering every horrible thing he had done to you, your heart began to rush with hurt and despair, and he was still unable to truly apologize. “Ben, you abandoned me after cheating on me with Crimson. How can you fix something like that? Talking things out can help clear up misunderstandings, but not that.” 

He muttered, “I was wrong about everything and about you,” not knowing how to express how he felt. He found it much more difficult to open up when he saw the disappointed and cold expression in your eyes. “I cared about you a lot; I've always had, and now too. I didn’t know back then, but now I do.”

Ben didn't make a single effort to even slightly touch you, but he was too close to touch you again. For an instant, Ben's gaze lingered on your hands, his heart shattered by the longing to embrace and caress you. He never imagined you would be this different, but here you were. 

This time, you spoke gently, understanding that Ben was simply too blind to really see the damage that he had caused. “I don't think you'll even understand your actions, Ben,” you murmured. 

He opened his lips to say something, but you cut him off right away. “I gave you everything I could, Ben: loyalty, friendship, love, innocence, understanding... I never asked for anything in return. I accepted and loved you as you were.” 

You spoke softly, focusing your attention on his deep emerald eyes and hoping he could understand you. “I gave you everything I had, but you kept what we had concealed from everyone, made me feel like I was a rat, and I never once complained—you already know that I supported the choice you made from the start. When you proposed that our connection be kept secret, I mistakenly assumed that you were protecting me from Vought and everyone else. This was foolish of me, and I held onto this belief all the way to the end.”

Ben listened to you with a pained expression as you talked about the things that hurt you the most, finally.

You continued after a little period of silence between you, stating, “You acted as though you cared for me when we first met, when we were by ourselves. You threw me aside when Countess showed up, kicked me from the squad, and then you tried to bring me back. I attempted to make amends for whatever I had done, despite the harm you had done to me, believing that my actions were the cause of your behavior. However, you continued to ignore me, failing to recognize the true colors of her.”

The image of Crimson's face struck Ben's heart with rage. If he had simply killed her on the first day, none of this would have happened.

He whispered, “I know I should have listened to you, I wish I could turn back time,” cutting you off. “But you must know I never loved her.”

Ben was unsure of his feelings for you, but he knew he had never loved Crimson and never felt anything at all for her. All he knew was that he needed you by his side and that he cared passionately for you. Your presence filled his body and soul with warmth and comfort. It didn't matter the name of whatever he felt about you and what you shared; it was something deeper and more special than anything someone could share with another. At least he knew that for sure.

You gently answered in an understanding tone, “I know, Ben,” knowing that he would never cease to love anyone including you.

You came to the realization after all those years that nothing, not even giving your life for him, could win his affection. You used to think that if you gave him everything you had, there would be a way to win his heart. Nevertheless, nothing would be sufficient to win his love.

His gloved fingers, a tiny glimmer of hope in his heart, only lightly touched yours to gauge how comfortable you were with it. “I know I caused you so much pain you never ever deserved, and I'm sorry for everything I have done to you,” in a sincere voice. “But give me a chance to fix everything. All I want is you and your trust.”

“And I forgive you, Ben. For everything you have done,” you sincerely said, giving a nod to him, understanding that there was no going back and that what was done was done. “But my love is gone.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

A/N: I don’t know how this is even going, but here we are. Kind of feeling insecure and hate writing nowadays to be honest. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated. They keep me going. Take care. “-“

*Losing You series masterlist is here.

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto @yvonneeeee @starryperson @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara @boywivlove @stilinskisthings @brynanna @delaynew @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @yoyoanaria @n-o-p-e-never @ghostslillady @certifiedhaters @deans-spinster-witch @demodemo909 @stoneyggirl2 @cheynovak @libby99hb @moneyburner @jenn-777q @hey-there0-0

Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series. -`♡´-

[kittyfrisk9]

Idea Dp x dc - Amnesia/2

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Note two: This takes place before Danny went into a coma and woke up with amnesia, I'm not sure if it counts as a flashback.

Dead On Main.

---

The fall was the least of his worries when silence spread across the area, making every second feel like an eternity. But now wasn't the time to panic, because experience had taught him this only symbolized danger.

He had to find Danny! When he tried to move, he let out a groan of pain, realizing his right arm was dislocated. Eh, what a problem.

"Nightwing, respond, are you okay?!"

His mind, finally lucid, could hear Barbara's concern. He smiled, stood up, and put his good hand on the earpiece; he needed to communicate that he was okay.

"I'm fine, Oracle. It was just a minor mishap. I need to find... Danny!" As he spoke, the panoramic view showed him the man's location, and it was clear he wasn't in good shape.

Not at all.

Nightwing rushed to the boy's side. Oracle, from the other end, was asking what was happening, but Dick didn't have time to respond. Especially when he saw, horrified, how blood was pouring from Danny's head. Oh no!

"Danny, Danny! Can you hear me?" He struggled not to shake the man, knowing that moving him in his condition would be fatal. "Oracle, I need you to call an ambulance. Danny is not okay."

"Understood, I'll send an ambulance." Barbara understood the gravity of the situation.

While waiting, Dick made sure to place the boy in a safe position, though it was somewhat difficult considering his injured arm. The essential thing here was to keep Danny's head, neck, and spine aligned.

In the process, he heard a moan from Danny.

"Danny! Can you hear me?" Dick asked, leaning close. Danny's breathing was dangerously slow. "Don't move, okay? I'm here with you."

Danny's eyes slowly opened, filled with confusion and pain. "It hurts..." Ignoring his order, the boy tried to move, but Nightwing stopped him.

"I know, buddy. But I need you to stay awake and calm, okay? Do you remember what day it is today?"

Danny blinked, trying to focus. "Wednesday... I think." No, today is not Wednesday. His hands were trembling, and his heart was beating in an almost painful way; the boy's disorientation scared him a lot.

He has to stay calm.

"Good, very good," Dick replied, keeping his tone firm but reassuring. "Just stay with me, help is on the way." As he spoke, he constantly looked around, hoping to see the ambulance lights.

He began to lose his composure when the light in Danny's eyes started to fade.

"Danny, please, hold on a little longer, you're going to be okay." He pleaded with a trembling voice, though he knew that statement was more a form of self-convincing to try and keep his sanity.

He can't lose his younger brother's boyfriend! Everyone knows how much good Danny has done for Jason, for the family, for everyone. If they lose him... he doesn't want to think about that.

"How do you know my name?" With the weakest sound Dick had ever heard, Danny asked.

There was silence. Dick didn't know what to answer. However, his evasion seemed to clarify something in Danny's mind; the gears started turning. "Dick?" What a bad time to discover his secret identity.

Once again, Nightwing said nothing, but Danny understood everything.

"Jason too?"

He nodded, and Danny's eyes widened. Despite his deplorable state, the boy began to smile. Dick was sure that if Danny had more strength, he would laugh. "I should have guessed."

Subsequently, Danny began to close his eyes and, before Dick could panic, the boy looked at him and said, "Relax, I won't die." Then, silence filled the area. Nevertheless, for some strange reason that Dick couldn't explain, he felt that Danny's declaration wasn't a lie.

He laughed; indeed, hope is the last thing to be lost. What a bittersweet feeling. Suddenly, the communications began to sound.

"We've captured the Joker," Red Robin reported. "He is currently being held by the police and will be sent to Arkham. B, something seems wrong with him, much more than usual." Tim shared his suspicions.

"Understood, Red Robin. Maintain vigilance and notify me if there are any changes. We'll investigate it in the cave, the others report," Batman ordered.

A bad feeling approached.

"The bombs are deactivated," Spoiler transmitted, joy evident in her voice.

In contrast, Dick didn't feel ready for what was to come next. Before disaster struck, Signal confirmed, "The hostages are safe."

He swallowed hard, aware that the question he feared most was coming. Guilt began to surface, questioning every decision he had made up to that moment. What could he have done differently?

"And Danny?" Asked Red Hood, his younger brother, the younger brother he had once again failed.

He turned to look at Danny: shallow breathing, pale, pulse worryingly slow. Unease lodged in his heart, wondering how he would tell his younger brother that his boyfriend was about to die. No! He shook his head. He has to remember Danny's promise; he's weak, but still alive.

"Oracle has already called an ambulance," he commented. He knows this won't ease Jason's anxiety, but at least it will help alleviate the tension, more or less. He's not sure. Hesitant, he continued adding, "help is on the way-" he was brutally interrupted by Jason's demands.

"How is Danny?!" This is no game. He understands that evading the issue will only make things worse, but he simply doesn't know how to tell his little brother the state of his boyfriend.

The memories of Jason being happy...

The silence seemed to drive the aforementioned crazy. "Nightwing!"

"He's not well!" Dick spat out, pressured to confess. "Danny, he lost consciousness a few moments ago, has a head wound, is bleeding. I'm sorry, Jason, I'm sorry."

Silence. Jason didn't respond. Nightwing bowed his head. Probably, it was only seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Suddenly, his brother asked, "Where are you?"

"What?"

"Where are you? Where are you both? Where is Danny? I need to go to him, tell me." The urgency in his voice. Dick was sure his brother was clenching his fists, desperate to be by his boyfriend's side. How sweet, Dick wholeheartedly wishes Danny survives.

On his side, Jason lost patience at his older brother's continued silences. Ignoring Bruce's rule and throwing the code names to the wind, Jason exclaimed, "Damn it, Dick, talk!"

At that moment, Oracle responded. "Enough, Hood. I've sent you Nightwing's location, the ambulance will arrive in fifteen minutes. Don't worry, Danny will be fine."

Nightwing was surprised. Wait, fifteen minutes? Why is the ambulance taking so long? He called for help at least thirty minutes ago! Oh no, Dick looked at Danny and, consequently, at the wound on his head, the bleeding wound on his head. Oh no, no, no, no, no.

They're taking too long!

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: I think we all know I basically spent these 3 chapters cackling maniacally

In the demon business, we call that BAIT!

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I'm all but wiggling happily. I love a good game of chess. I'm not entirely sure it actually is a game of chess beyond in Kabru's mind.

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OH GOOD HE'S A LITTLE BIT STUPID. This comic really does take care to portray people as badass, hyper-competent, and kinda stupid, all in different ways.

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oh, ALWAYS love a Santa-coded crime boss.

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I appreciate that Kabru's pride is solidly among the things he's 100% willing to temporarily ignore in order to be someone's friend/get them to do what he wants. I like that in a man.

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Interesting - clearly he's being magically influenced, but not so...directly? as to have the hourglass pupils.

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^ words of a man who is about to get his ass, and his entire criminal organization, absolutely WHUPPED by like 6 elves. I suspect the Canaries are underestimating the tallmen and other denizens of this dungeon, because they're arrogant pricks, but the locals are underestimating this elite team of elvish warriors a LOT more. I can't wait to find out what they're actually doing while "sight-seeing." Spreading out into tactical positions, maybe?

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ASS! WHUPPED! omg it's like an evil version of the Wink.

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I want to see this fight animated so fucking bad.

I dunno, Kabru, he clearly uses the combination pretty fucking effectively.

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WHY DO YOU THINK THAT A VISIBLE DEMONSTRATION OF MONSTERS WILL GET THROUGH WHERE WORDS DIDN'T? These people already know there are monsters down here... And at best, of course, a bunch of people will die... But they're just short-lived races so I suppose it doesn't matter :)

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While I do appreciate this dedication to making Mithrun look as cool as possible at all times, sending a giant, zombie-making walking mushroom into the middle of the Level 4 lake is going to be SUCH a disruption to that ecosystem!! Somewhere, Senshi just groaned in pain like Obi-Wan when Alderaan was destroyed.

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Mithrun has recognized that Kabru is going at picking out unusual people in a crowd, and is now using him as a manhandled tool to do so, and I just think that's Neat.

And it works! (So now it's their turn to get their asses handed to them.)

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This chapter cover is giving me a lot of feelings about...love, and families of choice.

Except for how I'm holding Laios in one arm while brandishing a knife at that lion fountain behind him. Get the HELL away from my boy, you tiny manifestation of the granting of wishes, and all you greater ones as well.

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oh are they now? They're definitely canaries in a coal mine, then. Badass and valued for their skills, but disposable. Hmm AU where Marcille...

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oh my god holy shit never mind, it turns out Thistle sucks at this when facing an opponent who isn't caught off-guard.

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It is possible that Mithrun is honestly, earnestly trying to help Thistle? As best he can?

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Sharing food as love!!!

MY GIRL!!

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STILL A TEAM!

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Oh Mithrun actually only has one eye, it's not just dramatic anime effect + hair flop? Hm. Should have a cool scar to make it clearer. I'm impressed with what depth perception he's shown, though, with the teleporting!

Obviously this does mean he ranks up in the Favorite Characters list.

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Kabru: Ooh nice strategy, manipulating all those people in order to manipulate that one person!

Kabru: Wait, right, I still don't like you.

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Yes! Yes! The Kabru's inner desires is OUT! He is impulsively risking this chance to prevent another Utaya - his stated goal, the obvious greater good, definitely very genuinely his primary focus - in favor of demanding the answers he WANTS, and the independence from long-lived elves.

YOU TELL 'EM, BUDDY! TAKE A STAND! BURN YOUR BRIDGES!!

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I appreciate that Mithrun isn't bad at this personal assessment thing.

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brb need to go chew a wall or something!

[atzfilm]

— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [eight.]

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

— pairing; ot8/reader (mingi/f.reader & hongjoong/f.reader focused); 7.1k

— chapter warnings; death, death mentions, murder mentions, slightly gory

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

FIC WARNINGS: murder, manipulation, blood, blood drinking, torture references, dark magic, kidnapping. this series is very dark, if you're uncomfortable with the subjects listed do not read. warnings will change but be listed in each chapter. there is no tag list for this series.

Chapter 8:

The heat is all consuming.

Your moist grip struggles against the metal chains digging into your skin, slipping as you attempt to get a firm grasp. The dried blood isn’t exactly helping you, chipping off each time you attempt to pull. You can feel Wooyoung’s eyes on you. He hasn’t stopped telling you that it’s nearly impossible for someone of your strength to break it, but you cannot help but try. You can’t let yourself succumb to whatever those creatures are planning to do to you.

“Solaris, you’ll exhaust yourself.”

You shake your head, hitting the metal against the floor. It does not make even the slightest dent, rattling. “We’re not going to die here, Wooyoung.”

“We will if someone catches you trying to escape,” he breathes, lids heavy. “Just sleep for a bit, I’ll throw something at you to wake you up if someone comes.” You look around the two of you, the cell completely empty. Not even a single rock decorates the floor. His chuckle is strained as he observes the confused look on your face. “Joking.”

You let go, attempt in vain. Your gaze roams over Wooyoung instead; body completely covered in tightened rope, feet outstretched but bound to metal hoops welded into the floor, arms lifted above him, fingers spread with smaller hoops keeping them from moving. Likely bound so tightly he is unable to even flick a finger. It is as if they have molded him into the wall, only his head free.

“You’ve never looked at me with such worry,” he notes. “Perhaps I should find myself on the brink of death often.”

“Did they hurt you?” You ask, though the answer is obvious.

They hit a blunt object against your temple as you entered the cell, Wooyoung already trapped when you arrived. His head was limp, hanging forward. Though now he is speaking, you can see the wounds on his body, clothing wrinkled and torn. The creatures barely touched you. Your fabric is slightly ripped, but it is meager in comparison to him.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he says simply, avoiding the question entirely. You lean yourself back against the wall, desperate to push the thoughts of San from your mind. You have seen too much death since knowing them. Seeing one of them die, though, that was the last thing you ever expected. Your own chest aches with the loss. You could only fathom how Wooyoung has fared.

“It didn’t look too painful, right?”

“Hm?” You look at him.

“San. It didn’t look painful when he died, did it? Do you think it hurt badly?”

You press your lips together. He looks exhausted, but his eyes never leave yours, flicking down to the movement of your lips. Swearing soon follows, head shaking softly. “He didn’t deserve it. He cared so much, so so much. All he wanted was to belong, to care for us. But we let him down.”

He closes his eyes. “I could feel it. His soul being ripped from mine. It felt like someone dug a dagger into my chest and pulled out each rib. It was so painful, I could only imagine what it felt like for him.” He closes his eyes for a moment. “I never saw San cry before.”

“I'm sorry,” you say softly. That's all you can say. Seeing someone you love so violently gone - You could barely hold back your own tears as he died below you.

He hums, a dry laugh leaving his lips. “Can't wait to kick his ass when I see him again. He promised he wouldn't die before me,” Wooyoung huffs, shutting his eyes. “They never explained how much it would hurt.”

You're unable to respond, comforting words lost. If you could at least hold his hand you would, but your restraints prevent it. All you can offer is silence.

“He did like you. Had an odd way of showing it, but he did. He talked about you while we were alone when you were gone. Sure, most of it was scolding and jabs, but he only does that with people he cares about. Did, that.”

Wooyoung’s head lifts, lips tight.

You follow his gaze, eyes widening as your head tilts up.

“Shouldn't a creature of Lilith be in the pits of hell torturing wretched souls?” Wooyoung spits, face distorting into disgust. “You decide to waste your time on the two of us instead?”

The creature's mouth opens, a foul smell scorching the air. “A burden that Lilith brought to me. Your bodies should have been disposed of long ago.” Its bulbous eyes shift to you. “Especially one of her kind.”

“Fuck you,” he hisses between breaths. A violent crack echoes through the air as you try twisting around the creature to see. Your heartbeat rattles against your eardrums, panic settling in. He can’t die, he can’t.

The creature stares down at you, his hand wrapping around your neck. It’s large enough to cover your mouth as well, strained breaths through the wrinkled skin that holds you captive. If you could tell Wooyoung to stop talking you would, but the hand seems to melt your lips shut as it snarls down at you, the tugging of your hands doing nothing to help. The touch her you die moment isn’t really one you’d prefer being in - the creature could easily snap your neck.

“Shit,” Wooyoung curses. There’s a bit of space between the creature's shoulder and head for you to follow the noise. Wooyoung struggles to pull against the metal, blood dripping down his restraints as he grunts. “You’re messing with a kumiho, you worthless cun-”

The metal prison door flies across the room, bending against the concrete walls. The creature turns around, but it is not quick enough. Its hand is violently pulled off of you, thrown against the same wall. You squint through the action, trying to catch who exactly has entered.

“Mingi?” Wooyoung says loudly.

Mingi shifts in and out of existence, wings tendons strained as he attacks the creature. The sounds are disgusting, flesh torn, bones cracking. Mingi’s thrown to the ground near you, covered in a blackened substance. His eyes shine, iridescent. His fingers sink into your flesh, and you gasp. He glances back at you briefly, an apologetic look in his eyes as he shields you from the onslaught. He grunts as his back is beaten. The sound of tearing skin is not unfamiliar to you. You cannot do anything but stare, this time completely defenseless with your hands tied. A brief reprieve in the attack allows him to move swiftly, his grasp on you gone. You see his hand sink into the creature before anything else. Darkened crimson coats his fingers as he pulls it back. He grunts, his free hand twisting into paws, sharp tendons cracking in the air. He grips the creature by its neck, tossing it through the open doorway. He glances between Wooyoung and yourself, running over to Wooyoung first. Mingi hisses when his hand touches the metal.

“Foxglove.”

“Why’d you think I've been stuck in here so long,” Wooyoung murmurs.

Mingi rolls his eyes, closing his eyes as he whispers a cantation. The strange glow to the metal seemingly dissipates. He pulls on the welded metal against the wall, ripping out chunks of the surface before doing the other.

“I didn’t need saving,” Wooyoung tugs on the bolts, relief spreading across his face once they drop from the wall. His bones crack as his once shapeshifted arm goes back to normal, fingers outstretched as he sighs. He takes a slow breath, before looking at the two of you. “Oh sh-t, your wings, Mingi.”

You can hear the dripping of blood as Wooyoung points it out.

“It’s nothing. Looks to me like you did need me,” Mingi crouches next to you, glancing over your restraints. He pauses as he touches it, a distressed look passing over his face. You expected him to flinch back as he did with Wooyoung’s, but his fingers wrap around it easily.

No foxglove.

“Mingi-”

“It’s fine, Wooyoung,” his tone seems final. Wooyoung stares at him before sighing.

“Hongjoong didn’t come?” Wooyoung’s voice is soft as Mingi grips the metal and rips it from confining you. He shakes his head slowly, hand brushes against the metal burns on your wrist. You wince at his touch, his eyes meeting yours briefly before looking back at Wooyoung.

“He’s been preoccupied as of late,” Mingi holds out a hand and you grasp it, steadying yourself on two feet. “But he informed us of your location. You can further discuss it with him when we arrive back. Can you create a path? The energy in here should suffice.”

“But…”

“They’ll find us if you delay any longer, Wooyoung.”

A grumble leaves Wooyoung’s lips but he nods anyway, quick whispers spilling from his tight expression. The air tightens then expands, a gust of wind nearly unbalancing your already unstable stance. Mingi grips your forearm, eyes flicking down to your lips before moving back to your gaze. The last time you were pulled through, San kissed you. It’s likely not too different now. Mingi opens his mouth to speak but Wooyoung interrupts, pushing himself between the two of you. Mingi’s grip on you is gone, gaze wandering for a moment before he enters the pathway, leaving the two of you alone. You only catch the gruesome look of his backside briefly before he’s gone.

“Ready?” Wooyoung asks, and you nod. His lips press against yours, and you’re pulled into the portal.

—

He’s pulled from you right when you leave the portal. A groan and laugh echoing around the house as he’s pulled into someone’s arms. Yunho’s grip is tight as he holds him, his body trembling. Teasing leaves his face as he sighs, pulling him closer. It is intimate enough that you look away, watching as the others greet him coming back. You feel odd, their attachment to one another something you yearn for. You spot Jongho amongst the spark, a relieved look on his face as he studies you. A pitiful part of you expects for him to walk over and embrace you but he does the opposite, leaving the room entirely. Everyone is occupied enough that you decide to walk around the others, making your way to your room.

You feel his gaze before you see it, eyes flicking down the long hallway. Seonghwa stands there, arms crossed against his chest. He barely glances at you but you can see how his gaze lingers on your wounds, lips tight and jaw strained. Once you blink he is gone. It leaves a strange taste in your mouth, your hand wrapping around the brass knob before pushing your door open.

Exhaustion swarms your body once you enter your room, slumping against the wooden floors, narrowly missing a wide crack. The chaos that was once in your room is now gone, the blood coating the floors nowhere to be found, wooden boards put back in their place. The only evidence of there being any sort of fight lies in the hole in the wall, wood piled beneath it. Likely to board it up temporarily. It looks like no one has gotten the chance to do much - nails and bolts piled along with it. It was likely Yunho or Jongho who cleaned up your room enough for it to be livable - you remind yourself to thank them at some point in the future. Once things have settled a bit.

The stench of sweat and blood still simmers in the area, nose wrinkling. Your eyes move over to your doorway, the final moments of San with you spreading across your mind. His death is not forgotten. A few painful swallows of spit later, you shakingly crawl to your bathroom, shutting the door behind you. The weight of the past few events almost cripples you, your eyes shut as you struggle to hold back your tears.

You’re not sure how much more you can handle. The isolation is getting to you - you used to have Soobin to grieve with. And if it weren’t him, it was your mother, your family. They kept you from spiraling, from sinking further and further into yourself. But you have no one. You look at the reflection of yourself. The bruises on your neck are darkening, deepening the longer you stare at yourself. The urge to call your mother vanishes the longer you stare at the mirror. Subjecting her to the possibility of this happening - you gag at the mere thought. You don’t want to involve anyone else. No one you care about.

It is a strange feeling, the amount of people in this home should be suffocating. And yet, you just feel so lonely.

—

The bowl beneath you distorts. Your vision blurs as you stare, fading in and out of focus. You can hear the birds chirp as they glide through the thickened forest in front of you. You look up, a chill brushing against the raised bumps of your arms.

No one has told you why Wooyoung and yourself were taken. The others have been busy. Hongjoong has not left his room, preoccupied. The horrid look in Mingi's eyes when he pulled you from your cell still haunts you. It was almost soul crushing as his nails dug into your flesh, the wounds are wrapped in gauze still.

Chopsticks slide through your lips, grains of rice mush. You haven’t the energy in you to protest as Seonghwa slid it to you, disappearing before you could thank him. The fear of hatred in his eyes stops you from ever meeting his gaze. He warned them all of what you being here would do. Of what was to come. The two of you haven’t discussed it amongst yourselves but you can feel the blame being spat at you whenever you are in the same room. Enough so that you promptly leave before a word gets out.

No one has really spoken to you since you came back. Even Jongho could barely muster a greeting, words murmured as he left you alone. All you’ve felt is alienation. Leaving was at some point an option, but now, after everything that has happened, it’s the last thing on your mind. San’s sacrifice would have been for nothing if you waltzed out of this home and into death a town away.

It makes sense why you’ve been left alone. It just doesn’t make the feeling go away knowing that.

You force the last scoop of rice into your mouth, swallowing dryly as you stand. The eerie sound of the hallways greets you as you enter, your steps swift and sure.

You walk past Yeosang’s room. The others’ words ring true – it is shut, not a breath of sound escaping through the thin cracks around the door. You'd never attempt to open it. You grieved on your own even though San only began caring for you at the very end. Yeosang and San though, they were attached. Every room you walked in they were always in deep conversation, lightened with laughter. Yeosang's annoyed expression was often softened by the warm look in his eyes when they spent time together. They are all mates but there was just something special between the two. Something you noticed with Yunho and Mingi, Wooyoung and Hongjoong. A bond unlike any other. Your gaze lingers only for another second before you leave, hands wrapped around the rim of the bowl. Wooyoung hasn't left his room either, not even to mess with you, which was fine.

You just can't get used to the silent hallways.

The kitchen is thankfully empty. You waste no time scrubbing the bowl, praying that no one enters while you are alone.

A low groan as you place the bowl in the cabinet fills the silence. You turn, almost stumbling back at the sight.

A blue tint coats his fingertips as he grips the counter. You're unmoving, staring at the carcass of what he once was. A groan escapes blackened lips as he stumbles forward, falling to his knees. His fingers let go of the counter, instead gripping his grayed hair. You can see himself in him if you ignore the obvious signs of decay. His clothing is what he wore that night, stained with his blood and yours. You dare not squint to see if the hole is still in his body, stomach twisting.

“He is still not alive, not fully.”

It's no surprise that Hongjoong follows, his eyes trained on San's crumbled body. There's a strange gleam in his eyes as he watches him. As if he's proud of what he turned his dead mate into. You cannot see anything in San but horror. He oddly does not smell like death, but you dare not get closer to see if he… it… does.

“Do the others know?”

His gaze meets yours. “I wouldn't give their hopes up for something like this. He may turn up dead again.”

“Hongjoong…”

“He is quite marvelous, isn’t he?” Hongjoong’s hands brush his hair tenderly, warmth in his gaze. “He is not himself, but he will be soon. If it all works, this would help the others see reason. They won’t be as upset anymore. We all can be happy again.”

“This, that isn't San. San is dead–”

Fingers wrap around your neck before you can utter another word. His eyes are solid white as he tightens his grip, jaw clenched. You gasp for air, fingers clawing at his hand, desperate for him to let go. Your bruises throb against his fingers. He only tightens before loosening. You suck in a long breath, cupping your neck as you try to regain your sense of self. He seems to catch himself as he rests his eyes on yours.

“San is alive. Not fully but he will be. He must be,” Hongjoong looks back at him. “I'm taking him to your town. He is still a Seelie, unfortunately. He will need their positivity to gain enough strength to live again. I would have forfeited your life, but you reek of pessimism. Delicious for me, but repulsive for him.” He sighs, running his fingers through his hair.

“You aren't going to kill them, are you? The townspeople?”

Hongjoong laughs. You see his arm raise but your momentum isn't enough to stop his touch. He holds your chin between his fingers. “What do you want from me, girl? You hope for reassurance, for something other than this, than us?” his grip only tightens as his harsh words drip from his lips. His eyes seem to darken the longer he looks at you, steady on yours. “I will kill them all for San to live if I must.”

“Let me go.”

“I am not letting you go. You are not leaving. You will never leave.”

“Hongjoong–”

His eyes flutter close, a slow breath entering his throat. He opens them again, grin slowly growing on his face. “We will be your final hope, kumiho. You are ours. Not those soon-to-be-dead humans. Grow to care less for them, it will be better for you in the end once you see their graves.”

He leans forward, eyes steady on yours. “You are mine. Even if you yourself do not believe it. Come, San.” He reaches out his hand. San's hand touches his as Hongioong entwines their fingers. “Time to feed.”

He is gone with a blink.

—

Mingi's strikes are harder. He does not stop in his attacks, immediately swiping his opposing sword when you block one. Your breaths are rapid as you desperately try to keep up with his moves. They soon grow faster, your vision blurring trying to keep up.

“Mingi–” you grunt, dunking with another wide swing of his sword. It slices through the air, the sound audible. Fear grows as he continues, eyes seemingly glazed over. This is no longer a practice for you. “Mingi!”

He does not flinch at your shouting, sword raising again. This time you grab the pole he gave you, immediately throwing it against his chest. A loud boom surrounds you, your hands flying to your ears. Mingi's sword drops from his hands and to the mats. He’s thrown back several yards, body hitting a large tree behind him. Your eyes widen, stumbling to your feet. You leap over scraps of wood to get to him, panicked. His breaths are struggling as you crouch next to him, holding your hand against his chest.

“Mingi? Mingi, are you okay?”

He begins to laugh, head lifting. A bruised lip and swollen eye greet you, the pit in your stomach tightening at the sight. You cup his face, turning his head to the right. Cuts cover his skin from the splintered wood. All he does is chuckle as he watches your worried gaze.

“Fuck, I'm sorry,” you say.

“You did what you needed to do, nymph,” his hand encloses yours, lifting it from his face. He lets it go, touching his skin. He winces, sighing. “It wasn't your full strength, but it was enough. We might not be at a dead end with you after all.”

“You did that on purpose?” You stand, speaking slowly. “I thought you were losing yourself.”

His expression is aghast as he examines you. “Never. I have too much to protect to let my mind wander in a match.”

Frustration cannot help but rise in your body as you look down at him. The longer you stare, the longer your own mind wanders. The way San's eyes looked at you, slowly glossing over. The resigned look on his face. The blood. The Seelie dead beneath your fingertips. All of the blood.

You shut your eyes, taking a breath. You turn, leaving Mingi on the ground as you go back to gather your things. You hear him standing from his spot but you ignore him entirely, the horrible thoughts growing. The same face that has haunted you each time you've closed your eyes. Your own mind begins to mold it into the faerie just behind you.

“Are you truly this upset?” Mingi stops you from zipping your bag, hand covering the opening. Your hand wraps around his wrist to tug him away, removing it when a small grunt leaves his lips as you grip too harshly on a new wound.

“I hurt you, Mingi,” you say. “And you laughed.”

“You were supposed to hurt me. That's how you get better at fighting. It's what we do.”

“You should have told me.”

“You wouldn't have fought as hard if I did.”

You turn around, meeting his eyes. His wounds are slowly healing, but the ill feeling has yet to leave your body. “You should have told me.”

His eyes rest on yours. “I won't coddle you. Weakness will not help you, nymph. You saw the way San fell. I’m doing this to help you protect yourself, and to stop one of us from intervening when we see you being targeted. A few cuts and bruises shouldn’t stop you from practicing. We aren’t done.”

He will never understand it. It is his nature - violence, chaos, blood. For a time you thought there to be something more there. And maybe there is. But right now, as your eyes follow his movements, the empty look in his eyes, all you see is nothing. Eerily, the longer you stare, the longer you feel that same odd feeling as the last time you spoke to Soobin.

Like he is not entirely himself.

“I’ll practice with someone else.”

“Who?”

“Why are you so insistent with this, Mingi? We’re done for tonight,” You tug on your bag again, but he does not let go. “Mingi.”

“Do you think we do not think of San every waking moment? Do you believe us faeries to be so heartless that we do not grieve his absence?”

“I never said that.”

“But you stare at me as if it’s true. I am doing this for you, for us, kumiho. And if you were the least bit less selfish you would see what my intentions are. He died protecting you. Do you expect me to just stand back and watch each of us continue to die because we are shielding you? Do you think it fair that our lives are lost because of you?”

Your thoughts move back to Wooyoung, his hands cupping your face, head pressing against yours. It’s not your fault, solaris. Sometimes things just happen, and we cannot do anything to stop it. Don’t put this on yourself, please.

“I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“And yet here we are,” he lets go of your zipper, pushing the bag against your chest. You stumble slightly, and he grips the bag, steadying you. Mild disgust coats his face, “Take a reprieve. We start again after I feed.”

—

Sweat drips down your body, soaking your clothing as you heave against the mats. Mingi is not too far away, humming to himself as he packs the training gear away. He has not asked you once if you were alright and you do not blame him. You cough, blood splattering against the mats.

“Shit,” you mumble, hands roaming for your water bottle. You grab it with shaky hands, swirling fresh water in your mouth before spitting it in the grass near you. It’s fine, just a bit of dry mouth. Nothing alarming. Your chest tightens as you shut your eyes, trying to calm your own heartbeat down.

A hand appears in front of you, a small bottle. The liquid inside almost glows, thickened as you take it from him. “It’s revivify. It will only take a few minutes to help. One sip is enough for now.”

“Thanks,” you open the bottle, glancing inside. The stench is a bit sweet, though your nose does not quite agree with it. Swallowing it is a struggle in itself, your throat pulsing, threatening to regurgitate it back to the mats. But you force it down, a rumble echoing.

“Keep the rest.”

“Are you sure?” You struggle to your feet.

“We have no use for it since it cannot work on Unseelie. It wouldn’t work on us even if we desired it. It is supposed to work on humans, and although you are not one, it doesn’t hurt to try,” He glances at your bag sitting on the bench, grabbing it. “I will leave this outside your room.”

“Thank you.”

He looks at you. “I am doing this for your own good, you see it, no? It is destiny, just as it was for us to meet you, for San to die. It all was supposed to happen.”

“You believe in destiny?” You raise your brow. “You seem like the last person in your whole house to believe in it.”

“All faeries do,” Mingi shrugs. “It is fate for us to meet, just as it is for you to come to your city, to leave your partner, to be out here with me now. Even as we speak it is words that were already ingrained within us.”

“Makes it feel like we don’t have freedom of choice.”

His brows furrow. “How so?”

“If it is all predestined, how could we decide how things go? How this all ends? Why even try when we are forced along a linear path?”

“Ah…” he nods slowly. “You still have the simple mind of a human.”

“Doesn’t answer the question,” you frown.

“I said it is all fate, but I didn’t say that fate is linear. Each path we take is what we choose, but it is fate that brings us together, just as it is fate if we are brought apart. But that is too difficult for you to comprehend now.” He looks at you strangely. “How are your wrists?”

You look down, finger brushing against the forgotten wounds. It isn’t welted like before, but it’s scarring over, a deeper color contrasted against your skin. You’ve all but pushed that experience from your mind, too tortuous to dwell on amongst everything else. “I haven’t thought of it.” You admit, glancing at him. “Too many things going on right now for me to cry about something like this.”

His eyes rest on your wrists, before glancing away. “I pushed you farther than need be today. I overestimated how much strength you have in this human form.”

“I understand.” There’s an apology between his words, somewhere. You glance at his back. The pure horror that crossed Wooyoung’s face when he saw it in the imprisonment. Your quick glance was enough to see that it was painful. Horribly so.

“Are you okay?”

He furrows his brows, “I told you I was fine before.”

“No, I mean,” you hesitate. He closed off when Wooyoung questioned it, there’s no doubt he’d do the same to you. But you cannot help but try. “Your wings, your back. Are you okay?”

His eyes widen only minimally before resting. “Fine.” His steps are fast, not waiting for even a moment to hear what you have to respond. You stare at the potion in your hand, thoughts scattered. Perhaps he does care, in his own strange way.

Later that night, you find a small bag containing a potion hanging on the doorknob to your room with a scrawled note. The loneliness feeling shifts as you read it.

For your wrists. -M

—

Your gaze is unable to shift from your hands. Numb, cold from the breeze escaping through the gaping hole in your room. It's partially boarded up, a box of nails and wood slacks resting beneath it. Humorous given the situation – you don’t doubt the faeries you reside with have some sort of fix it spell on their roster. But you've insisted on doing it yourself. Splinters dig into the tender skin, your thumb rubbing against the risen surface. It is not enough to make you feel half of what the others felt, but it helps. You press your thumb into the small wooden splinters, pain ringing your nerves as you bleed.

Your new door flings open, nearly breaking off its hinges. You flinch, moving away from the sound. Hongjoong stands there, gaze scanning the room swiftly before resting on you. The once cocky Unseelie looks oddly haggardly, skin oily, hair no longer neatly styled. As if he just awoke from a slumber, clothing barely thrown on his figure. He sighs, fingers pinching his nose.

“You are not hurt.” He murmurs.

You raise your palm to him, before dropping it, picking up the tweezers near you. “Nothing a few hours of picking at my skin wouldn't fix. You almost broke my door, by the way.”

“I smelled blood.”

There's a light film of blood on your palm, but it's barely a teaspoon. “The wood pricked me.”

“Could you be even a bit more careful, kumiho?”

You laugh dryly, “No demonic creatures breaking through the walls again, if you were worried about that.”

His oddly concerned expression soon disappears. He grips your doorknob, ready to swing it back into its place. Just before he closes it, his eyes flick to you. “Caring for yourself shouldn't be such a feat.”

“It was a mistake, that’s all,” you murmur.

“Why lie? Remember where you are and what has happened. Unseelie may not care as Seelie do, but an ounce of sympathy would work wonders.”

The door shuts. You watch as the knob drops from its place, rolling against the wooden floor.

—

Your existence is not forgotten in the room. Body cemented into the loveseat as the discussion, fingers brushing against the potted plant San once cared for. Their words are heated, speaking in a language you cannot understand aside from names. Yeosang is not in the room as you predicted. Seonghwa paces back and forth, arms gesturing wildly, pointing at you every so often. Wooyoung’s tempered voice responded with a bit of annoyance, his presence far away from you not unnoticed. In fact, it seems that Jongho is the only one who could even stand your presence, passing you a novel before sitting on the armrest of your chair.

“Death is something we cannot overcome by merely forgetting it,” Hongjoong’s words ring, speaking in a language you can understand, looking at you briefly. Seonghwa does not attempt to hide the annoyance in his expression. “We must do something, or others may think we are weak.”

“They can try,” Yunho says, leaning against the archway. “Their attempts will be in vain.”

“Them trying is what I am actively avoiding.”

“We are Unseelie, Hongjoong. Someone attempting to take over happens every few centuries. They have likely found out about San’s death already, and Wooyoung being taken. It is only a matter of time before a group enters the meeting place. And they have questioned her presence already,” Seonghwa looks at you. “She should be removed.”

“And taken by Seelie? Is that the wisest thing to do?” Hongjoong scowls. “Once she is able to use her abilities without forgetting and they have control of her, we will all die.”

“She has already caught the attention of Lilith. We must kill her then.”

Your hand stills on the leave your brushing against, turning to Seonghwa. His back is facing you as he says it, waiting for Hongjoong to reply. He’s greeted with silence instead, a loud sigh escaping his lips. “What use does she have to live? We remove any chance of her growing to learn her skills and killing us, or leaving and finding herself in the hands of another group of fae. It is the best solution.”

“You would allow San’s death to be in vain, Seonghwa?”

All of you turn to the voice. Yeosang’s hands grip the doorway, eyes narrowing as he stares at him. Though the Unseelie is far, you can see the glimpse of a knowing smile on Yunho’s lips. Seonghwa looks pained as he meets his gaze, a slight step forward. “Yeosang.”

“Answer me.”

“It is the best solution.”

“You have not answered.”

“San would see reason in my choice if he were in my shoes.”

“You have endlessly criticized Hongjoong for his choices and yet make a selfish one of your own.”

“I am thinking of us. I have always thought of us. How can you not see that? Why don’t any of you see it? All because of this… thing?” He points at you. “It’s my fault for not killing her in the beginning. I allowed all of this to happen. We would have already moved on from this town, far away enough that even the thought of her would never be. But I have accepted that I made a bad decision. I wish that you all accept my words when I say keeping her around is a bad decision.”

Hongjoong shakes his head. “San’s death is not yours to take blame. It is not that simple-”

“I don’t want to see any of you die again.” The angst in his voice is palpable, strained. He grips the table near him, eyes glued to the floor. “I want you all to live. Please, please consider this. I won’t ask for a vote because I know where it would lead. Just, please.”

Hongjoong’s hand reaches out to touch his arm, but Seonghwa pulls it away from him harshly. “I’m tired of having these pointless fucking meetings when everyone dismisses my words. I am tired of it all. Do what you want, I don’t care anymore.” He leaves, shoulder harshly pushing through Yunho’s body as he exits.

Yunho reaches out a hand as Yeosang stumbles, murmuring words you cannot understand in his ear. He nods slowly, reaching an arm around his neck. The height difference is steep, but close enough for Yunho to help him out of the room. The others seem to leave not too long after, Hongjoong standing in the same spot once it's just the two of you left. The idea of being alone with him is uncomfortable enough that you begin to follow the others out. Until he speaks.

He never quite shuts up.

“We’re not killing you,” Hongjoong says. “We’ve decided on that already.”

“I feel so much better now that you say it,” you mumble. “I don’t fault Seonghwa for wanting to get rid of me. You’ve all been through so much since we’ve known each other.”

You exit the room, the soft steps of Hongjoong not too far behind. You expect him to stay behind when you walk outside, but he follows well. You stop walking, turning to look at him. “What?”

“I wouldn’t be able to kill you,” Hongjoong explains. “Many of them may hate me if I arrived without you with me. But if you made the decision on your own, it would be no fault of mine.”

“You want me to kill myself?”

“No,” he says after a moment. “I still cannot find the reason for their fascination with you. But I do not want that. Do you want to die tonight?”

You’ve been brave. Leaving them behind once before, dealing with that Seelie before San came to save you. Before, you thought you’d be able to survive without them by your side. But now? Even with the weapon that Mingi gave you, doubt settles within you. Your eyes flick up to the house. To the barely boarded up hole on your porch.

“No.”

“Then why are you not trying hard enough in your training? You have overcome danger before – we all saw the aftermath ourselves. Or, maybe…” he pauses, a strange look crossing his face. “Maybe your body knows that it is not a life threatening emergency, enough so that you would show your true form. Perhaps you just need a push.”

Hongjoong’s hand grips your arm, dragging you deeper into the forest. “I can test it now.”

“What the hell are you doing?” You grip his hand, but it is in vain. His nails dig into your skin as he pulls you, your pace struggling to keep up to the quickness of his. His gaze is lost as he paces through. “Hongjoong this isn’t funny.”

“Unfortunately I’m not trying to be humorous,” he glances down at you. “I will need to attempt to kill you in order to see if it works.”

The forest begins to dwindle, and soon you hear the sound of waves. You’ve been out in this area with Soobin before, know that your town rests near large cliffs. You visited it more often than not, standing at the treeline as you looked out into the ocean. He drags you to the edge, ignoring your pleas. Your hand digs into his sleeve, begging him to not do this. To realize what he's doing is wrong.

“Hongjoong please,” you say desperately, voice hoarse. He grabs your hand, ripping your grip off.

“I don't want you to die,” he says softly. “But this… this could help. This could show us your true potential, y/n. Don't you see it?”

Your name rolls off his tongue like a curse. The word is strong enough to stun you for a brief moment. But just the pause in time for him to dangle you over the ledge. His gaze is far gone, his free hand brushing against your cheek. Black pupils stare back at you, his brown hair a sheer white. His touch grows colder and colder as he touches your cheek, hums echoing around the forest. You grew unafraid of them all since you've been with them for months – thinking that your life was safe enough. But the blank gaze of his, the eerie tune that falls from his lips, it is not caring. It is not human.

“The others will know.”

“They will forgive me once you come back alive.”

“This isn't humane–”

“Neither of us are humans, kumiho. We do not need to follow the morality of human law. Can't you see it? I'm saving you. This is me saving you.” His lips brush across your cheeks, indecipherable Latin whispered into your ear.

He lets go.

[anonymouscheeses]

Thanks... mate 😈 (IVE ACHEIVE MY DREAM OF BEING CALLED MATE I CAN DIE HAPPILY NOW! /J) BUT SRSLY THANK YOU SO MUCH! if your still here after being in the inbox for months 😔

Anyway since your so kind here's my full body design + somewhat updated designs of chaggie!

I THINK VAGGIE LOOKS SO PRETTY??? IS THAT JST ME? I think I kinda ate 😎 but yeah she's your average person (depressed. Edgy. Angsty.) And she wear jordans cuz she's just cool like that 😍 she listens to hard-core rock music and Tyler, the creator for sure. Idk she also gives off Mitski vibes (no... it's not because I'm listening to Mitski right now wdym.....). Her dad(Husk) couldn't afford a prosthetic eye so she opted for the eyepatch(she would wear it anyways she's a freak like that 😭)

since Valerie is in the hood it's a bit... rough. And at any second someone could jst pull up on her since she was previously affiliated with a gang. And had enemies during that time with other gangs.

Charlie design! Her horns stay out because she's not sure how to conceal them yet. When they grew out it became hard to hide them. She's a bit insecure about her demon features. Doesn't help her parents think of her as a failure and disappointment. Yeah, she's got some family problems 😔 my poor baby. Oh yeah and also she kills people for Valerie! It's apart of their deal, due to Valerie's gang stuff, she summoned a demon to protect her. And kill for her. Who knew she'd fall in love with that same demon and let alone become friends with her?

Human form! Her pupils are still goat like, plus her fingers look like claws to differ herself from other humans. Buttt... she still fits in as one so she's totally fine! She's kinda giving Sheldonnand I'm scared. She's annoying asf to everyone in the school she goes to with Valerie. People try to fuck her up but she doesn't want to risk getting caught as a demon so when that happens, Valerie is the one that protects her! So ykno, a good ol' switcheroo! Not one sided protecting here!! 😈

[chaniceroses]

Bad Boys Ride or Die (Armando x Reader) Part SIX

“Mike.”, you whispered, opening your eyes to allow your vision to adjust to the room. The lights were dim so it made it easier for you. Once your vision was clear, you were startled by Mike, Marcus, Kelly and Dorn sitting down talking around the bed that you were in.

Once you found the strength, you slowly raised yourself up so that your back could be against the headboard. When you noticed that one of your wrists was handcuffed next to the post. “Where the hell am I?”, you asked, looking around. “Where’s Amando? McGrath? What the hell is this!!”

“Y/n, we need to talk.”, Mike replied, walking towards you. 

“We don’t think it’s best for you to come with us.”, Marcus sighed 

“Why the fuck am I handcuffed?”, you replied. You could feel your heart racing, and your blood boiling. You turned to look at your wrists that were handcuffed then at Marcus.

“Why? Do you guys not trust me? This will be a suicide mission if I’m not there!”, you blurted moving your feet off the bed. You notice that your side felt a bit better however when you looked down it was horribly bruised. Damn.

“How did you know that guy’s name was McGrath?”Mike asked, folding his arms.

“What?”

“Don’t “What” me. When Marcus and I came to your house and found you holding that little boy. You kept repeating that you “Needed Armando” and that it was “McGrath”. How did you know his name? You weren’t with us when we found out.”, he explained while pacing back and forth.

You watched as Marcus, Dorn and Kelly kept their eyes on you. Kelly and Dorn had a sorrowful look on their faces while Marcus just watched.

“It’s hard to explain. I need Armando, he can explain it better.”, you sighed, grabbing your wrist to try to pull your hand out. “I need to go with you guys, please.”

“No, we will go get Armando. We trusted you…Captain trusted you. Dorn and Kelly will be coming. This is Kelly’s place, you will stay here. Guys, let's go.”, you watched as Mike angrily left the room. You hated getting into it with the boys, especially Mike. He would always hold grudges and if he felt that his trust was broken, he wouldn’t ever acknowledge that person again.

You threw your head down in defeat, thinking that you should’ve said something months ago. However you didn’t know that this would happen. You could see someone’s shoes under you as you held your head down, looking up, it was Marcus handing you a cup of water with a napkin underneath.

“Here, I know you’re probably thirsty and try to ignore Mike, this operation is just personal...”, Marcus suggested holding out the drink for you to grab. You looked down at it to see black marks appearing through the glass. Looking up at Marcus to ask him about it, he was already walking out the room. You turned to look at Kelly and Dorn.

“I know you had nothing to do with this. We know so..”, Kelly replied, looking at the door and then back to you. You watched as she walked up to you and handed you something. It’s the key.

“Marcus wanted us to do this so there’s fresh clothes in the corner over there with the car keys. Read the note that Marcus left. Also, Captain left a personal video for you, we didn’t think i’ll be best for the boys to see it so we’ll send it to you.”, Kelly smiled, bending down to give you a slight hug then leaving. You watched as they left, you never would’ve thought that Marcus would help you out. Then again, he is the complete opposite from Mike. You adjusted yourself in Kelly’s bed and sat the glass on the nightstand. Grabbing the napkin, you unfolded to see what it read…

“Mike doesn’t trust you so he has decided to not have you come with us. I know that you have nothing to do with this and that you and Armando can help us. I told Kelly and Dorn to set you some clothes out and to leave you the keys once Mike leaves the room. Meet us at the private airport on Boulevard and be quick. Dorn and Kelly aren’t going, they’re just stalling and I’ll deal with Mike, he’s just hurt. That’s all, from Marcus.”, you read looking up to see the clothes in the corner of the room.

You knew that you were in a race with time, so you hurried up and unlocked the handcuffs and started to get ready.

                                     ARMANDO’S    POV :

She’s been on my mind since she left the other day. The way she looked at me, her eyes and that voice of hers was all that I could remember. The way she carried herself when she was here excited me. Very. I was sitting down on a small bench that they have in my cage. My cage, as if I am some animal. I wasn’t asked to have this kind of life, to kill people for a living. I was protecting my mother, who’s now dead. I must’ve gotten lost in my thoughts because when I looked up guards were surrounding my cell. 

“Standup.”, one of the guards commanded,  unlocking my cell and walking in. I got up and threw my hands forward to show them that I was willing to cooperate. I watched as they put handcuffs on me and surrounded me as I followed them out.

“You guys are late.”, I said, looking around at the guards.

“Shut the hell up, you don’t even know the time.”, one of them replied,  pushing me. I kept walking, I could’ve easily taken him down while cuffed but then that would’ve changed my chance of being transported. 

The walk to the bus wasn’t long since it was in the back of the building. I was excited to see y/n again, to be around her presence. She had a hold on me somehow and she barely even said anything. What a woman.

I watched as the doors opened, to be met by Marcus and Mike. I was lost, where the hell was she?

“Where is she? We made a deal, remember”I asked, being handed off to Mike and Marcus.

“We’re taking you.”, Mike replied, walking towards the bus.

“She couldn’t make it, a little accident.”, Marcus explained, looking at Mike and then at me. I wanted to turn around and go back to my cell. There was no point of being here besides the fact there’s a chance I might be free.

I wanted to see y/n and her only, I had a lot of questions to ask but if she wasn’t going to be here, then I guess it would go unanswered.

I got onto the bus and watched as they drove off. It’s been a minute since I've been off of the prison grounds. I turned to see Marcus looking at me. He was sitting in the seat across from me.

“What?”

“You know her, don’t you?”Marcus asked, scotting closer to me. I turned to look at the window and watched as we passed by open fields. I knew about her but didn’t personally know her.

“No.”, I replied, looking back at him. “Never got to meet her, just knew about her. It’s a lot.”

“That’s what she said.”

“What did she say?”I was curious. Even in the past from what others would say. She never talked much, she was secretive and no one knew what she really looked like but the person she was with. I liked that.

“Not much, she just said that she needed you. She knows about you that’s for sure, even though she acts as if she doesn’t.”, Marcus explained, leaning his back against the seat. “All I know is that she is in a lot of trouble, she knew who the guy was this whole time…”

I couldn’t say anything. If she knew who the guy was this whole time, why are we all getting pulled into this? Why didn’t she just say something? What did I have to do with this?  I allowed my thoughts to run while we were headed to the plane.

It took some time with construction and a little traffic, but we finally made it. I watched as the guards transported the cage onto the plane before allowing me to get out. Even while thousands of feet in the air, I have to be in a cage. Outrageous. Turning my head I was met by Mike standing over me.

“ Remember, NO funny business, you do something. They will kill you so don’t.”, he said pointing at me. I could tell in his eyes that he was serious but then again, I could never take the man. My father, who I almost killed, seriously. I just looked at him and stood up. Marcus followed and we all walked off of the bus.

While we were heading towards the plane, I could hear the sound of screeching tires from a distance. 

“What the hell?”Mike said, turning around to see what it was. It was a car coming full speed towards us. I watched as he and the rest of the guards around pulled out their guns.

“WAIT! DON’T SHOOT!”Marcus yelled, running into everyone’s line of vision. He turned around and waved for whoever it was for them to come closer.

I watched as Mike looked at Marcus with a confused expression over his face. He didn’t know what the hell was going on and I didn’t either.

“I’m sorry Mike.”, Marcus continued walking towards Mike. “But I couldn’t leave y/n like that, we need her help and she needs us.”

I watched as Marcus and Mike stared at each other. What was going on? I turned to see someone getting out of the car, it was y/n. I could help but stare as she came towards us. Her hips swayed with the rhythm of her legs while she runned over. Her torso was exposed, showing a huge bruise across it. I was curious now.

“You just got us killed.”, Mike responded looking at y/n and then back at Marcus.

I watched as he walked off heading towards the plane, while Marcus followed behind him. I turned to look at y/n to see her already looking at me. Although her eyes were dark brown, it looked like a sea of honey, the way the sun shined on her.

“Are you going to walk?”, y/n asked, pointing towards the plane.

“If you walk with me.”, I answered, looking at her and then the plane. I watched as she waved her hand out towards the plane, allowing me to lead the way.

The walk to the plane was quiet, there were quick glances here and there at each other. And there was  a lot that  I wanted to say but it felt as though I couldn’t talk. Until she finally said something.

“ He hates me now.”, she said, turning to me. I kept my eyes focused on the plane, I didn’t want to look at her. Afraid that I would show some kind of sympathy for her. It wasn’t needed right now.

“He hates everyone, so don’t…flatter yourself.”, I responded. Damn Armando, why did you have to say that? That came out way too harsh.

“Noted.”

There was silence after that, even when we got on the plane. Marcus and Mike sat by each other while Y/n sat right across from me. Of course they had me back in the cage. Before I knew it, we were in the air. Everyone was in their seats strapped in and was quiet.

I secretly was watching y/n. She had my attention, the way she sat in her seat and leaned her head back against the wall. It drove me kind of crazy inside. That’s when I noticed the marks across her neck.

“What happened?”, I posed pointing towards her. Mike and Marcus turned to look at me and then at y/n but I didn’t pay them any attention. Right now, it was just y/n and I on this plane.

I watched as she looked up at me, contemplating if she should reply or stay silent.

“Happened when Fletcher was killed, got attacked…Same for this one.”, I watched as she pointed down to her exposed stomach. The bruise was huge and I could tell that she was probably uncomfortable by the way she was sitting and breathing. I felt bad and started to wish that I was there. Why am I feeling this way?

“If I was there, that wouldn’t have happened.”, I smirked while going to sit down. I love the games, the chase. I could feel myself slowly becoming interested in her but there’s things that I need to know. Find out.

“Sure.”, she sarcastically replied. 

All I could do was laugh quietly, until I noticed Marcus getting up and heading towards the front of the plane.

“What the hell is he doing?”, I whispered to myself, watching cautiously.

Y/N POV

You watched as Marcus got up and headed towards the cockpit. You didn’t know what was going on but you knew something wasn’t right because when you turned to look at Armando, he was already looking at you alarmingly. You listened as Mike kept asking him about his actions and why he was peeping through the hole. 

“Marcus, sit your ass down.”Mike yelled looking at him.

You continued to stare at Marcus while he was looking through the hole. Before you knew it, you heard a gunshot and felt the plane start to fall.

“What the hell?”, you yelled unlocking your belt to get up, when one of the guards next to you grabbed your wrist.

“Sit back down!”, he screamed not letting you go. Before you could react, Marcus was flown back onto the wall and people in an all-black cop suit came out and started shooting at the guards. Dirty cops? You turned to look at Mike to see him rushing towards one of the people. You weren’t sure what to do but you knew you guys had nothing since they confiscated your weapons earlier.

Everything seemed to be moving fast, Marcus and Mike were fighting, and you were looking around to see what you could do to help. Until you saw a rope. You ran past Armando’s cage to grab the rope and started untying it from the metal hooks that it was on.

“What the hell are you doing? Go help them!”Armando yelled looking at you and then back at them.

“What the fuck do you think i’m doing?”, you screamed back tying the rope around a metal bar that was spotted underneath the ropes.

You sprinted back towards Marcus and Mike and began helping them take out each cop one by one. Busting them in their mouths, hitting them across their head and even nearly stabbing one of them until you got kicked in your stomach and got flown back into a red button. 

You turned around to see that it read, “Emergency Release Button” .

“Oh shit!”, you thought to yourself as you swiveled to see the back exit doors slowly opening.

“shit!”Armando whispered, looking  at the door.

You observed what was going on, dead bodies slowly began being  flown out of the plane, Marcus grabbing the rope that you used to tie it to Armando’s cell and Mike slowly losing a fight. You sprinted over to Mike to help him, until the three of you were flown over to Armando’s cell due to the air pressure. You and Mike had the guy pinned against the cage. You watched as Mike pulled off the guy’s mask to see that it was McGrath.

“Did you clean up our home?”He mocked kicking and then punching Mike. You couldn’t stand the fact that he was mocking you, and smiling while in the middle of doing so. You tried to fight him but he was too strong and with the air pressure being unbearable, you lost your balance and flew towards the open doors until you felt Armando grab your hand through his cell.

“Hold on!”he yelled, gripping and holding your hand as tight as he could,

You shook your head and turned to see McGrath waving then pulling a string from his backpack and flying out of the airplane. You turned your focus around back to Marcus and Mike to see them wrapping the rope around Armando’s cage. The cell was slowly coming out of the plane and you were on the side of it. The air was crisp and cold and you could feel your legs flying everywhere.

“Grab onto the cage and climb sideways towards the top near Marcus and jump,  Armando will catch you !” Mike yelled pointing at you. You weren’t too far from Marcus since he was slowly coming towards you. You were scared, the plane was about to crash in the next thirty seconds and you and Armando were about to fall out of it. However, it was either do what they say and have a fifty percent chance of living  or fly out and have a hundred percent chance of dying. 

So you started climbing, each grab feeling slippery due to your hand sweating from nervousness. Once you got to the top of it, you turned to see Armando at the bottom of the cell getting ready to sprint towards you to jump out and catch you. Half of his cell was hanging out of the plane so it was either now or never. You waited until you saw Armando get close to you and jumped. You could feel Armando hands latch onto you to hold you up as you both were pulled up by Marcus and Mike. You wrapped Armando's leg and straddled him to be sure that you wouldn’t fall.

“HOLD ON!”Marcus yelled as he grabbed the nearest railing. 

You could tell by the looks on Marcus and Mike’s face that we were about to crash. It was pure terror, they had closed their eyes and looked as if they were waiting for death to approach them.

You turned to look at Armando to see him already looking at you.

“Not yet.”, he whispered, holding the rails and turning you around to face you against the wall. You felt weird inside but you didn’t know why. His eyes sparked when he looked at you and his accent was strong. Just the two words that he spoke was so reassuring to you.

You both leaned each other’s head against the crook of your neck to be sure that nothing would hit it. He was protecting you, covering you so you felt that you should do the same. Shortly after the plane crash and you could hear something hitting against the plane.

You opened your eyes to water entering the plane, where the four of you were. “We have to swim or we will drown!”Mike yelled, running towards the exit.

You got down from Armando’s waist staring at the water that was slowly touching your shoes. You couldn’t swim, and you knew that. You were too embarrassed to say anything though. You looked up to Marcus and Mike running to get off the plane. Armando was still next to you, he caught on.

You watched as he squatted down low enough to allow you to jump on his back. You were worried if you were too heavy or if you would drown him.

“When we get into the water, keep your hands around my neck but loosen up your legs. I will need my whole body to swim, okay.”, he instructed, walking towards the water. You whispered okay and watched as the four of you got to the end of the plane and jumped into the water.

It was freezing, and felt like knives had stabbed you across your whole body. You had your eyes closed because you hated water being in your eyes. It felt like you were in the water forever until you opened your eyes and saw Mike and Marcus staring at you while you were still holding on to Armando. You quickly unwrapped yourself from him and stepped to the side on dry land.

“So are you going to help us?”Marcus asked, looking at Armando. 

You watched as Armando took quick glances at everyone and started walking into the woods. The rest of you caught on and followed after him.

“Hey! We’re out here because of you!”Mike continued, grabbing Armando's shoulders and turning him around. You watched as Armando stepped up to him, this wasn’t the time for him and Mike to fight. We all need each other.

“I haven’t done shit. This isn’t my shit to bury, you two digged it so you bury it back”, he replied slightly, pointing at Mike.

All you and Marcus could do was watch. You felt bad for Armando but also Mike. You walked up beside the both of them and stared at Mike.

 “Look, they’re going to frame us now. The evidence is right there”, you interrupted pointing back to the plane that is slowly being submerged underwater.

“And if you guys want to stand here and argue, then do it. But I have someone I need to talk to…kill. We’re fugitives now, not cops. It’s our word versus everyone else so quit the bullshit because right now, we only have each other.”, you continued looking at Armando and Mike. You were hoping that what you said got to them, you weren’t the type to give a speech, but you knew it was needed at the moment.

You stared at Armando and he stared at you back. “C’mon”, you whispered, hinting at him to walk away. You watched as he turned around and started walking. You followed, you didn’t know exactly where you were  since you weren’t from here but since you were with Armando, you figured you would be safe. You could hear leaves crunching because behind you, indicating that Mike and Marcus were following you.

All four of you were sprinting at this point, getting as far away from the crash as you could. Hoping to not leave a trail nor get caught. You caught up to Armando and jogged beside him.

“Are you okay?”, you asked, looking over at him. Sweat was dripping down his face and he had dirt marks across his body. At this point his prison attire was ripped and the top of his body was exposed. You felt hot.

“Yeah, didn’t expect anything good to come out of his mouth anyway.”, he replied, slowing down his pace to allow you to be in rhythm with him.

“I think you guys just need to talk. Have a conversation, an honest one.”

“I could say the same for you.” he laughed, with a small smirk.

He got you there and you knew it. He knew it. You figured at some point you would have to tell the truth but you didn’t know that it would have to be like this. So you said nothing.

“So will silence always be your answer for everything?”, he interrogated jumping over branches while looking ahead.

“If I have nothing to say then yes.”

“That’s fair.”, he responded, stopping in his tracks. You watched as he scanned out the area, we were surrounded by trees. A lot of them and the sun was slowly making an exit, which means we’ve been running for hours. Time was moving, one minute you were in bed, handcuffed to Kelly’s bedpost and next, you’re on the run.

“Here is fine.”, he continued looking at everyone.

“What? No, we need to keep moving.”, you debated pointing out towards the trees. “There should be a road near here, if we keep going–” 

“STOP!”, he demanded turning towards you. He was towering over you and looking down at you. Your breath felt short and although you thought he looked fine in control; you were shocked and mad. You stared at him and then at Mike and Marcus. You watched as Mike shrugged and Marcus was looking at you shockingly as well. You felt that you didn’t have time to be sitting around. To stay complacent and allow McGrath or the cops to catch up to you, so you walked off.  Ignoring your name being called by others. You kept going, not knowing where you were walking while the sun was slowly making an exit. You started to become creeped out by the trees hovering over you as you walked, but the pride in you kept your legs moving so you kept going.

[lolitasangel]

Angst Noah thought- Break Up

Hi, I’m still a little sad (but I’m better so don’t worry) so, enjoy this little angst, if anyone would want a part 2, I can try to come up with something in due time

Break Up Pt2

Break up pt3

TW - possible mentions of Anxiety, depression

——

You know it’s all in your head, it typically is, the anxiety always creeps up when you least expect it, you used to be so good at calming it down, but these days it’s just getting harder.

Noah was always there to comfort you but he wasn’t here, he was in another country, another time zone, with probably another girl

And here you were stuck, since the break up you thought you had moved on, telling yourself “I don’t need him, I just need myself” but it’s hard to do that when you two were like a pair of matches together, except you didn’t mean to ignite any sort of fire.

He ended it, you have to tell yourself that, he made the decision, not you so you shouldn’t beat your self up, but you can’t help it, not when those thoughts came in.

You remember it like it happened yesterday when it reality it was months ago, like a land mine, you didn’t watch where you were walking into and suddenly everything exploded.

Noah asked you to meet up at the beach, it was a little late around maybe 9:30pm, he was sitting in the sand, saw you coming.

You always had a feeling this could’ve been a possibility of dating an upcoming rock star. But you never pictured if to truly end this way. You knew something wasn’t right, you could feel it in your gut.

Only this time you wish it was.

“We are on two different career paths, you know? And of course I love you but I’ll be traveling and won’t be around so, I think this is for the best”

Noah tried giving you a reassuring smile, but you still felt horrible.

Nodding your head “I agree, yea, I uh, I understand”

“We can still be friends though, Y/N, I still want you in my life” Noah tried telling you but you knew it wouldn’t be the same, you couldn’t pretend like you didn’t love him like that, after everything you had been through together.

You knew deep down as soon as you got home you would block everyone off, not trying to be rude off course, but wouldn’t it be weird to still be friends with your exs friends?

You smiled keeping a brave face, “I understand, Noah” before letting him continue speaking you decided to walk away.

Walk away from the first meeting

Walk away from the first date

Walk away from the first kiss

Walk away from the thoughts of marriage

Walk away from the thoughts of possible kids

Walk away from all of it

Walk away, Y/N, that’s all you can do.

——————

Once you got home that night, you cried, you cried until your eyes were puffy, you cried till the sleeves of your hoodies were soaked from trying to wipe them away, you cried till you couldn’t anymore.

Going off from the numbness you found an empty container and put everything away inside of it.

The hoodies, the shirts, the poster cards he sent you, the fake flowers he bought you so they wouldn’t die and you could keep them forever, the jewelry he bought you, everything reminding you of him were to be locked and sealed away like a vault, never to be opened again.

Changing out of your clothes into some comfy clothes, you laid down in bed, staring at your phone, praying that maybe it was all a joke, a messed up prank of some sorts you know? Of course it would be a messed up prank, but atleast you still had Noah.

But, no text, no call, no voicemail, no Snapchat, nothing, just the empty Lock Screen of you and Noah on your first date at the cafe you chose.

Putting your phone away, turning onto your back staring at the ceiling, you knew that it was for the better, you understood why he did it, but at the same time, you didn’t. But it’s okay, you’ll be okay.

[chemococktailonthehouse]

Nightly Ritual (Lucifer x F!Reader)

Description: Lucifer tended to stay up far later than he should, and he certainly wasn't easy to convince to come to bed. You, however, had a few tricks up your sleeve.

Warnings: Fluff (that's it. that's the whole post), sleepy sleepy reader, no use of Y/N, no beta we die like men

Author's Note: This one has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute now. I've got another one I'm working on and may not finish that has similar vibes with a touch of angst (what can I say, I know what I like). I'm not sure how much Hazbin I'll write for, as I'm not super involved with the fandom at this point. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Word Count: 897

This has been cross-posted on my AO3 account which you can find here.

______________________________________________________________

Lucifer spent many a night in his workshop working and you spent many a night trying to pull him away from said work and into bed. Besides, what was the point of a king-sized bed if there wasn’t a king to share it with? At some point you realized that if you could get him to enter the bedroom the battle was practically won. But how could you consistently make that happen? The answer fell into your lap one night when you dozed off watching him work. He gazed at you fondly for a moment before finally scooping you up and carrying you off to bed. As soon as he deposited you beneath the sheets you pulled him along with you as he let out a surprised umph. And so this dance of yours began. You would fall asleep in his office and he would carry you to bed. It didn’t take him long for him to catch on to your little game, but he couldn’t help but play along.

Most nights you’d pull up a chair to his desk, your head moving from resting in your palm to laying across your arm as you began to drift off. Other time’s you’d sit next to him, resting your head on his shoulder as he tinkered away. Once or twice you even sat in his lap with your head buried in the crook of his neck as he hummed softly in your ear. Tonight though, you unintentionally mixed things up.

Luci heard the door creak open not too long after supper as you padded into the room. He was a bit surprised. Usually you wouldn’t start this song and dance until much later in the evening. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his shoulder as you peered at his current project. Maybe you were just here to watch tonight.

“Whatcha working on?” Though, to be honest, you already knew the answer.

“Oh, just the usual.”

You fell into a comfortable silence. Every now and again you’d ask a question about what he was doing or what tool he was using, to which he would happily answer. After one particularly in depth question he turned to you, “so, you trying to pick up the tools of the trade?”

“How do you know I’m not already an expert?”

“Oh ho ho, I think we both remember what happened last time.”

You swatted at his shoulder playfully, “oh hush you.”

“I’m not the one who almost set the office ablaze,” he raised his eyebrows as he challenged you to retort.

”Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. You should be thankful I took such a tremendous responsibility off your hands.”

“Mhmm,” you could feel his quiet laughter reverberate in his chest. He continued working, humming contently whenever you’d pepper kisses on his cheek. Eventually the frequency of your musings began to slow as he noted your breathing deepening, “you sure you don’t want to come sit in my lap?” While he didn’t want you toppling over, he was reveling in the close contact and would be damned if it ended any time soon.

“Can see what you’re doing better from up here,” the way you mumbled made it evident that sleep was soon to follow.

“You sure you’re not gonna fall asleep back there?”

“Mhmm. ‘m not even that tired.”

He turned and placed a kiss on your cheek, “whatever you say, dear.”

You did, in fact, fall asleep back there. Just as the first soft snore left your lips he felt you begin to slide to the side. He unfurled his wings, keeping you upright until he could turn around and lift you into his arms, “alright missy, let’s get you to bed.” You stirred slightly, lazily reaching an arm over his shoulder to stroke the feathers at the base of his wings as he carried you down the hall. The only clue that he had finally made it to the room was the soft click of the door before he laid you down on the bed. Before you had the chance to pull him down with you he had stepped out of your grasp. You turned to face him, worried that your plan had been unsuccessful this evening, “stay, please.”

“I’ll be right there, just need to slip into something more comfortable.” A few minutes later he climbed under the covers and pulled you to him, the warmth of bare chest pulling you in like a duckling to its mother.

You looped an arm around him once more, tracing your fingers across his back in search of those oh-so-soft wings. You huffed, disappointed to find he had tucked them away, “Luci?”

“Yes dear?”

You rubbed small circles until he finally got the hint. “Ohhh, someone sure is needy tonight, hmm?” His tone was playful, though it could be argued that he found much more satisfaction from wrapping you up in his wings than you did. And you loved when he wrapped you up. You began combing your fingers through his feathers again as he practically purred, “you know if you keep that up I may just have to start coming to bed earlier.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” there was that mumbling again as you began to drift off.

He chuckled, a soft, deep tone, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

[priincebutt]

🖤 for firstprince please and thank you 🤭🤭🤭🤭

🖤 kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation -- send a heart get a snip

“They’re sending me to Earth.”

The words sit between Alex and Henry, heavy and present, like there’s another person at the table with them. Alex’s mind tries to catch up with what Henry’s just said, but his expression is one of pure bewilderment. He reaches for Henry before remembering the guard monitoring their meeting, and thinks better of it. Last time he’d tried to touch his boyfriend he’d been physically escorted out and given a warning: if he did it again, he wouldn’t be able to continue visiting.

“I’m sorry, what?” Alex asks, his voice thick with the confusion that forms his brow into a little v of worry. He leans forward and clasps his hands in his lap, determined to keep his cool. “Earth is uninhabitable. That’s what they’ve always told us. They can’t just… Just because you’re a prisoner doesn’t mean you deserve to be sent to die!”

His last word rings out and Henry flinches away from it. The guard shoots Alex a furtive look but goes back to reading on his tablet, probably the latest news ping that held the report on the oxygen levels lowering, on how they’re running out of time and if the station can’t figure something out soon, there won’t be any hope. A whole civilization, snuffed out in space, another dying star in their own right.

“Research shows that after 100 years the Earth’s atmosphere should have corrected itself. They’re hoping this is the answer to the… the crisis.” Henry swallows thickly and looks away, then finally meets Alex’s gaze again. “My dad discovered the oxygen crisis. He wanted to tell the whole ship and that’s why they floated him. Now everyone knows anyway, and they’re trying to remediate it by sending us down as the test dummies. See if we can survive, if all of the radioactivity and poison is gone from the air.” Henry’s words are brittle with anger. He’d been arrested for being in alliance with his father, helping him crunch the numbers and uncover the ugly underbelly of secrets the Chancellor had been keeping from everyone. Henry’s father, an adult, was immediately killed, sent into space with no gear or oxygen to become a part of the universe again. Henry, being under 18 and still a child in the law’s eyes, became a prisoner to be re-evaluated on his 18th birthday.

It’s only days away, and he won’t even be on this ship to see it. He’ll spend his eighteenth birthday on Earth. And while he’s terrified to leave Alex and his mother and family behind, the thought of this new adventure… well. It kind of thrills him.

“Henry, you can’t go. What am I going to do? You’re going to die down there and I’m just going to have to sit here and live with that? You can’t go.”

“I don’t really have a choice, Alex,” Henry points out calmly. He understands why Alex is upset, but there’s nothing they can do now. The deed has been done. He’s going to Earth.

The guard stands from his chair and looks down at his watch. “Time’s up, you two. Out you go, Claremont-Diaz.” “Just like, five more minutes? Please?” Alex asks hopefully, and finally his hand reaches for Henry’s. When their fingers interlock he squeezes, and Henry feels tears prick at his eyes. He feels guilt for excitement for the upcoming journey to Earth, and a deep sadness over what he’s leaving behind. This has all happened so suddenly, they’d only told him he was going this morning.

“Sorry, no can do. You’re lucky your Ma is who she is and you even get to be here,” he points out. Most prisoners aren’t given any kind of visitation rights, but since Henry’s dad was one of the top scientists who kept this whole space ship up and running, and Alex’s mom’s position as a higher up in their shoddy government system, they’d gotten around it.

Henry can see the panic flickering across Alex’s face, and he squeezes his hand again, pulling Alex’s attention back to him. “Hey. Hey, Alex? It’s going to be ok. Look at me.” Alex’s dark eyes meet Henry’s, and Henry’s free hand comes to rest on his stubbled cheek. Alex’s chest rises and falls on his heavy breathing, and Henry knows he’s on the verge of a panic attack by how far off his gaze is. “It’s all going to be ok,” Henry says with a weak smile.

“Stay alive. Wait for me. I’ll be on the first ship out of this hell hole,” Alex mumbles softly. He lets out a sigh and presses their foreheads together, and the guard starts to say something, but Alex ignores him. If this is the last time he’s going to see Henry, he’s going to make it worth it.

The tears that welled in Henry’s eyes fall as Alex presses their lips together. It’s been months since he’s been kissed, and Henry melts into Alex, lets himself forget that this is maybe (probably) the last time they’ll touch like this. His fingers tangle in Alex’s hair as Alex’s hand rests on his waist, and for a moment they just exist, just the two of them, with nothing to split them apart.

But then Henry’s being wrenched back by his shoulder, and he curses as the guard fastens restraints around his wrists and forcefully pushes him back towards his cell.

“Wait for me!” Alex calls as another guard escorts him out. Henry loathes the desperation, the wetness on his face, this whole situation. It’s all shit. And now he’s got to go to Earth and fucking survive for Alex. He just has to make it long enough for them to be together again.

[sseniita]

unscheduled comfort

Hero’s schedule has found itself to be very full. She’s asked for a total of a week in extensions, called to be covered at work four times this month, meticulously rationed her four hours of sleep and finally, organized her crime fighting into appointments. And so, it’s safe to say that when the villain had missed his appointment- she was upset. 

Every other villain in the city has been completely uncooperative on the shared calendar the hero had sent out, but the villain was always in time and at their planned locations. She had started to look forward to the only consistent thing in her life. 

She shrugged on her old, tattered jacket. It’s gonna rain. Great. She looked at her phone and tapped her foot impatiently. 

Five minutes passed. 

Ten minutes. 

Fifteen minutes. 

Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes late. 

“Thirty minutes late!” She screamed into the pay phone, searching her pockets for more quarters. “You are thirty minutes late! At this point I won’t make it to work and I’ll get fired and I won’t be able to pay for school and I’ll die homeless!” 

“Can you- argh- can’t we postpone?” The rain pattering rhythmically on the phone box made the villain’s voice sound staticy and muffled.  

“That isn’t the point! The point is no one listens to me and I’m trying my best here! Besides, my schedule is so overfilled that next week I’m going to have to prepare a presentation during my lunch break at work!” She glanced at the broken screen on her phone. “I’m gonna be late to work because of you and I can’t get fired because being a hero pays in applause and bruises. I can’t pay my bills with fan letters, Villain!” 

“Hero- now is not the time-” The villain’s voice stopped mid sentence and the hero could hear the slight murmur of a voice on the other line. The hero held the phone closer after putting in two more quarters. 

“Who is that?” she asked in between the murmurs. 

“I- Can you shut up for a second” the hero started at the phone in disgust. The phone was muffled by something so that only the villain’s voice was clear. 

“What? No. No way. She can wait… No, this was planned… So what if I double booked… I don’t… You’re joking… Dear Lord, fine!” 

The hero tried to make sense of the betrayal currently taking place. The villain was having some sort of disagreement with the mystery person- and they had lost. Whoever the mystery person was- they were able to overpower the villain in an argument. They had the hero’s respect… and fear. 

The villain’s clear voice through the phone made her stand up straighter. “Are you in the usual place?” The villain was curt, annoyed. 

“Oh. Uh, ya. Are you coming?” The hero heard the villain’s scoff before the line went dead with two more minutes. Waste of two quarters. 

The hero hung the phone on the receiver and stared out onto the rain flooding the streets. The lights reflected on the pavement almost looked pretty, but they quickly blurred into ugly splotches as the hero tried to blink away the wet from her eyes. She hadn’t noticed when she started crying or how long she had been motionless in the phone box. A salty tear reached the edge of her lips and the cold and tiredness dawned on her. 

She reached into one of the thirty pockets her windbreaker had and pulled out her phone. 

13%. An hour and a half till my shift starts. I can fight the villain for twenty minutes and if I leave right after I’ll make it to work about 45 minutes late, and I can work on my paper on the train- oh wait. I can’t. My phone is basically dead. Cool. 

A knock on the phone box startled her into a sobering alertness. She quickly wiped her tears, wrapped her jacket closer to herself and opened the door, muttering a “sorry” before b-lineing towards an alleyway. 

“Hold on, Hero.” A hand found itself on her shoulder. Villain. The fear was delayed. There was no way she’d be able to fight him in the state. Her joints were locking, she couldn’t feel her fingers, and her nose was all snotty. This was it. Goodbye cruel world. 

“You-” Her body seemed to work on autopilot as it turned to face the villain. She found herself in a defensive position, ready to take a hit. Until her eyes caught what the villain was wearing. The tips of his leather shoes were shiny from the rain,  he was wearing a pair black slacks that elegantly hit right at his ankles. He couldn’t see his presumably also impeccable shirt due to the cozy and warm coat he had on. Black, warm cashmere that hit right almost to his knees. The hero thought for a second that maybe theft wasn’t a bad idea. She could use that coat as a blanket. Or sell the buttons and buy a house. The possibilities are endless. “-aren’t even ready! Where is your suit?” She finished. 

The villain rolled his eyes. Pushing his hair to the back with his free hand. The other hand rested an umbrella against his shoulder, keeping his dry. I could sell the umbrella and buy a car, she thought. “Neither are you, do you think you can fight me in jeans and- are you ok?” 

“I’m fine, thank you very much. It’s raining. Can we get this over with?” She answered, not bothering to wipe away the snot from her nose. 

The villain stared at her for a second, the hero knew the villain knew she was probably crying. But she couldn’t be bothered to care. She wanted to finish this and get to her shift, and then to her tiny room and tinier bed in her three bedroom-five roommate apartment. 

“Right. We’re not fighting today.” The villain turned away, the hero hadn’t noticed the umbrella was above her head until the villain began walking towards the curb. 

‘What do you mean we’re not fighting! We-”

From the distance they heard the honk from a stalling car by the road. Inside it was a woman yelling in their direction. In the dark, all that Hero could make out was the faint silhouette of brown Hollywood curls and the sparkle reflecting off shiny jewelry. The woman yelled at them. 

“She’s soaked! Give her the umbrella!” 

The villain sighed, walking back to the hero and handing her the umbrella. All the hero could do was accept it and watch the villain walk away. Then turn back. And then walk back. 

“Can we please get going? We’re already late.” 

“Huh? Late to what? What’s going on?” Perhaps it was the tiredness or confusion or fear of the mystery person in the car that let the hero be directed by the villain towards the car. 

“I have an ultrasound appointment. We’re going.” 

The hero could only laugh humorlessly as they approached the car- completely numb. “Are you pregnant?”

“No.” They reached the car where, from the passenger’s seat, a beautiful woman was beaming at the hero. “My wife is.” 

The woman held out a hand through the open car window. “I’m belle! I’m so sorry, my husband booked your flight and my ultrasound at the same time, we’re running late but I promise we’ll drive you anywhere you want after the appointment!” The hero couldn’t find it in herself to not shake the beautiful woman’s hand. 

Belle’s voice was the same one the hero tried to put on when she was on television or doing an interview that ‘needed to inspire hope in the hearts of the citizens.’ Except Belles’ came naturally, a joyous and light voice that warmed the hero right up. The hero could only do a nervous and shaky version of it, though. 

“Gosh, you’re much younger than I thought you’d be.” Belle added, with a rather pointed look at the villain- her husband. 

The hero often found pride in herself by knowing what to say. From cheeky one-liners to perfectly crafted emails. But now, in the cold, villain’s hand on her shoulder, and the warmth radiating off this woman, she was disoriented and all she could think to say was; 

“You’re making another one of him?” Belle laughed, the hero was practically sweating. “Villain- wha-” 

“Get in the car, bootlicker.” 

“Honey, don’t be mean!” 

“Get in the car, oh holy and gracious hero.” 

“Honey…” 

Being seated in the back seat of Villain’s car was sobering, Hero could care less if she was about to be killed. Perhaps they honorably discharge her from her burger flipping job once they’d find out. 

“By the way, I’m a huge fan! And I’m so sorry that you’re being forced to fight my husband. I swear I thought you two were about the same age.” 

“Thanks, I appreciate your support.” Said the hero automatically. “Um. No, we’re like 20 years apart.” 

“I’m 31, hero.” Said the villain, turning the keys into the ignition.

“Sure.” 

Belle laughed. “Awe, so you’re so charming! I’ll make sure Villain takes it easier on you, honey. Oh! Here, please have a tissue. It’s cold out isn’t it. Villain, take off your coat to give it to the hero-” 

Belle continued talking and as much as the hero wanted to ask a million questions, the evening had become dark and the passing cars hypnotized into a soothing sleep she wasn’t able to fight. 

The last bit she heard before her head hit the window comfortably was Belle speaking to the Villain. 

“Awe, look she’s sleeping. She must be exhausted.” 

“I’m not sure where she lives- to drop her off. Can you wake her up?” 

“Oh, absolutely not. Poor girl, she's so young. I can’t believe this is your nemesis. She’s barely out of highschool. Let’s take her home, she can stay in the guest room. Just for a while. Awe, she’s adorable.” 

“Love, she gave me a black eye last month.”

“Adorable.”  

And it all went dark and peaceful and warm.

sorry for not updating btw!!! been busy with work and school grrrr hero is so me FR!!!

[ananxiousgenz]

hey guys how are we feeling about more cowboy au??? it's 4am and this is the last thing i'm posting before i go to sleep lmaooo

@percymawce-arts (along with @ellamenop and @izel-reblogs bc i saw your tags before and figured y'all would want more lol)

When he opened his eyes again, constellations were twinkling like fireflies in the navy blue sky above him, and the last blue-gray remnants of sunlight lingered on the western horizon. He could see the faint traces of firelight blossoming up past his feet, several yards away from where he was laid out on the ground and smell some sort of food cooking over it. His side was still in a dull, throbbing pain, blood slowly weeping out of it and into the ground. He could die here. Such a beautiful place to leave behind, John thought through the mist clouding his mind. 

Then the mist turned into a prairie fire as something poked into his injured side.

He screamed through his teeth . There was something in his mouth keeping his teeth from grinding together, something tough and leathery. He slowly realized it was a belt, folded and wedged into his mouth to keep him from cracking his teeth open.

“Ah, shit, sorry, sorry, sorry!” a distant voice said. It sounded vaguely familiar, a foreign accent he was almost sure he knew. He couldn’t tell from where.

John spit out the belt, pushed himself up, and tried to scramble away, but found weight on top of his hips, pressing him down to the ground. He collapsed again, moaning in pain from the effort.

“Jesus fucking Christ, would you stop moving? I have to take the bullet out of your stomach, and I can’t do that if you keep squirming.”

“It hurts,” John said thickly. “It hurts so much…”

“I know, I know. It’s going to be alright. Just let me get the bullet out, then I can cauterize the wound and bandage it up, okay?”

Through the tears blurring his eyes, John saw the man pinning him down was none other than the Sheriff whose partner he had killed hours earlier. Confusion settled over his mind like a blanket. Why was he here? Why was he helping him?

The Sheriff was a sharp, thin man, with a pointed nose and angular jaw but kind dark eyes, and wavy auburn hair that was slightly disheveled. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a chest coated with scars, and the corner of a bandage over his left shoulder, a red stained hole in his shirt over the same spot. From where you shot him. John blinked a few times to clear his sight and tried to fit the pieces of this strange puzzle together.

“But I- you… you’re helping me?” he asked, voice soft and far more vulnerable than he wanted it to be.

The Sheriff nodded. “I’m trying to. But you need to work with me, okay? I need you to stay still while I get the bullet out.”

John hated that he felt so weak, that he had to entrust his safety and his life to that of a stranger who, for all he knew, wanted him dead. But what other options did he have? He was too weak to fight, and in even less condition to run. He needed help, for the time being. So he nodded his head, and tried to stay as still as possible as this man wedged the belt back between his teeth.

The Sheriff placed a pair of sharp metal tweezers back into the wound. Tears began to stream from John’s eyes the moment they made contact. He couldn’t help the pained whimper that escaped his throat.

“Shhhhh, sh sh sh,” the Sheriff murmured. “I know, I know it hurts. I’m so sorry. Just a second longer…”

John nodded and gritted his teeth against the leather belt. The tweezers tapped against the bullet, lodged deep in his guts, and he let out a small yelp in anticipation of the pain.

“Ah, okay, there it is. Give me a second.”

The tweezers closed around the bullet. And it was agonizing. It was fucking agonizing. Despite his will, another scream was building in his throat as the Sheriff slowly, gently pulled the bullet out of John's wound.

“Almost… almost… there! Got it!”

There was a small plink of metal bouncing off metal as the bullet made contact with a tray at the man’s side. John let out a small whimper as his body went limp. His breathing was hoarse and ragged now, the stress and tension melting away as a new wave of dull pain washed over him.

“Okay. Alright. Shit. Fuck. How am I supposed to clean this out? Mine wasn’t bad, but yours has been through the dirt,” the Sheriff muttered to himself.

“Chew-pon-iv…” John said between ragged breaths.

“What?”

“Lizard tail. A decoction. In my saddlebag. On… on the left side. The corked bottle. It… it'll smell peppery. Strong.”

The Sheriff nodded, stood from where he had been straddling John, and walked over in Akke’s direction, spurs gently clinking as he moved. John was suddenly conscious of the lack of weight on his body, and he realized he could move again. Even with the waves of pain wracking his body, his mind snapped into clear focus.

The Shoshone camp. The Sheriff’s purpose here. Larson’s mission. 

John realized, with a hard swallow, that he had failed. His aim had been to injure the Sheriff enough that he could take him to Larson without a fight. But now here he was, barely strong enough to ride Akke, completely at the mercy of a man he barely knew. At this rate, he would be dragged back to town to be left with some stupid doctor while the Shoshone camp was decimated. He couldn't take the Sheriff prisoner in this state.

But maybe he could kill him.

His shotgun and revolver were too far away. The Sheriff had made the smart choice to disarm him before attempting to treat his wounds. But… he wiggled his right ankle, knocking it against the inside of his boot. Yes! It was still there! A small, bone-handled knife tucked away in the side of his boot. Not big enough to appear as any serious threat, but certainly sharp enough to cause some damage. And if placed correctly- temple, throat, lungs, heart- then John could kill him in one strike.

John breathed in and out shakily.

By the time the Sheriff had retrieved the small bottle of chew-pon-iv from Akke’s saddlebag, John had stumbled to his feet despite the shooting pains in his side, knife in a death grip in his left hand. The Sheriff looked… bewildered. John wasn’t sure what emotions he was expecting to cross his face, but confusion and concern were not one of them.

“Might I ask what you’re doing?”

“I,” John said, trying to breathe through the pain, “am going to kill you.”

The Sheriff raised an eyebrow. “Well, you certainly did an excellent job of that before.”

“That was a mistake. A mistake I intend to correct.”

“Mmm. I’m sure. I look forward to seeing you try.”

John coughed, then hissed through his teeth at the jolt it brought. He could feel his temper rising up through his chest and face. “You know nothing about me.”

“I know enough. I know you’re a fairly good shot, and that you were hired to kill myself and my Deputy. I know you were only successful in one of those murders. I also know that you’re in a bit too much pain to try anything right now, so why don’t you lie back down and tell me how I can clean out your wound with this?” the Sheriff asked, holding up the bottle and shaking it lightly.

John didn’t respond, just glared daggers at the man standing across the campfire from him, who in turn, sighed, walked up to him, and pushed him back onto the ground. John was furious. He was about to try standing again, but dizziness hit him like a stampede, and he stayed put. The Sheriff sat down on the ground beside him, moving his shirt out of the way to pour the decoction over the bullet wound.  John hissed.

The Sheriff sighed. “Look, I’m trying to help, alright? Despite the fact that you clearly want me dead. Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot. Let’s just start over again. My name is Lester. Arthur Lester. I’m the Sheriff of Mountain City.”

“I know that,” John spat, fire and venom burning behind every word. “I know all about you and your kind. That’s why I need to kill you.”

The Sheriff- Arthur- looked confused again. “What in God’s name are you talking about?”

“The Shoshone camp.”

Arthur tilted his head slightly. “The what?”

John let out a frustrated huff.  “Jesus fucking Christ, the Shoshone camp! The one a few days from here? The one you and your precious Deputy were sent to destroy?”

There was a silence in the conversation, interrupted only by the chirping of distant crickets and the crackle-pops of the fire. Arthur simply stared, but John could see wheels beginning to click into place behind his eyes.

“Wait. You mean- oh. Oh! You think we were going to destroy an Indian encampment? Is that what you were told?”

“Yes, god-fucking-dammit!”

“I see.” Arthur stared in the direction of the fire for a moment, before throwing some metal coins into the hot coals at its edges. There were more gears turning behind those dark eyes, but the nature of them was something John couldn’t say. He began to get the sense that for all his tricks and cleverness, Arthur could still run laps around him.

"It's not true. Parker and I were heading to investigate a stagecoach that was due in Mountain City several days ago that never showed up. It had a large amount of money with it, and some women and children from what we understood. I never even knew there was a Shoshone encampment in this direction."

John was silent as he processed this information. There was a war happening in his mind now, one side saying that Larson lied about his assignments and one saying that this man was lying to spare his rotten, murdering neck. John didn't know which to believe.

After a long moment, Arthur raised his head again and stared out across the plains. “Can I ask who told you that? Or are you not permitted to tell me?”

“I don’t-” John sighed, finally letting his head hit the ground as he stared at the sky overhead. “I don’t know his real name. All I know is that he calls himself ‘The King’.”

“You know, you’re a terrible liar.”

“How do you know I’m lying?”

“I can hear it in your voice. It caught in your throat when you said the word ‘don’t’.”

John rolled his eyes. “I didn’t realize this had turned into a fucking interrogation.”

“I’m a sheriff. It’s my job to know when people aren’t telling the truth.”

“And you can decipher that from voice alone?”

“Well, I can’t exactly decipher it any other way, now that you killed my partner!”

“What do you-” John’s pain-addled mind finally put the pieces together. The lack of focus in Arthur’s eyes, his panic at losing his Deputy, the lack of eye contact during their conversation, his shock when John said he’d been shot…

Arthur Lester, Sheriff of Mountain City, was blind.

“Oh fucking hell,” John breathed, eyes wide in shock.

“Finally caught on, did you?” Arthur said softly, mouth twisted into a sour shape.

“I’m so-”

“If you say you’re sorry, I promise you, I will shoot you here and now and leave your body behind for the vultures. I don’t need pity.”

John bobbed his head. He had felt the same way when Yellow tried to ask about his past at the boarding school, the first time they met. The only difference between that conversation and this was that one had ended with Yellow getting a black eye.

“How did it happen? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“It, um. An eye infection. When I was a teenager. Doctors discovered it too late, and by the time they started giving me medication to treat it, my eyesight was already…” Arthur gently moved his hand through the air and whistled, mimicking a leaf being blown by the wind. 

“Damn.”

“Yeah. But that’s besides the point. What’s your story? I don’t even know your name,” Arthur said with a sheepish smile. “Not to mention, you’ve still got an open bullet wound in your side I need to close up.”

Almost in response to Arthur’s words, John’s side spasmed with pain. “Yeah, that’s true,” he muttered through gritted teeth as he sat up and turned to face the man next to him. “You can call me John. John Doe.”

“John Doe. That’s a curious name,” Arthur said, holding his hand out for a shake, which John returned swiftly and firmly.

“I didn’t have any say in the matter, unfortunately. The boarding school chose it for me. I don’t… I can’t remember what my name was before.”

“Ah. I see,” Arthur replied, in a way that made John suspect he had just received confirmation for something he had been thinking about for a while. He waited for John to continue.

John was silent for a moment. He still didn't know who to trust. Larson or the law? Regardless of sides, this strange man had showed him compassion when he was vulnerable and shared an important piece of his story. John decided it was only fair that he shared a little of his own in return.

"About my... employer." John cleared his throat and looked at the sky again. "His real name is Larson. He runs a sort of gang of people like me. Native kids who got shipped off to boarding school and are now too white to go back to our tribes but still too Native to exist in white society.

"He.... offered us a purpose. Something we could do to help our peoples, even if we couldn't go home to them. All we had to do was kill who he asked, rob when he asked, and we would be saving their lives. I guess we thought we were heroes or something."

Arthur's brow was furrowed in thought. "Not Wallace Larson? He's a wanted man, John! Parker and I were trying to track him down for years."

"I don't know his first name. Only the last."

A thoughtful pause stretched between them until a particularly loud pop from the fire seemed to startle Arthur out of his reverie.

“Oh, I think the coins should be hot enough now. Could you, uh…”

“Of course.” John craned his neck to see into the coals. “There’s one resting near the edge of your boot. Slightly to the left. Yes, right there. You’ve got it in the tweezers now.”

“Right. You might want to put the belt back in your mouth, John. This is going to hurt.”