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palidan-sheep · 2 years

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I love Until Dawn but unfortunately I only like The Quarry.

gonna put spoilers incase ya yet to see the game, I suggest it. It’s a good watch but the ending is a tad-bit unfavorable. Shoulda stuck with the police interview, not a fucking length boring podcast...

Straight up, I absolutely enjoyed trying to understand the meanings of the Tarot Cards, I loved trying to imagine what would’ve happened had ya done this rather then that ya’know? What if they grabbed the fireworks? What if they went down this way rather then that way.

I had such a fun time piecing together the story and the clues.

But man, mystery and solving things aside, the lack of character exposure and development leaves a foul taste in my mouth.

Let’s start this off by talkin bout Nick.

From the play-through I watched(Jack’s) Nick was more or less dropped after the pool shit-show(maybe half way threw the game?) like, he explodes and then dips. We see him locked up on the Hacketts basement but what happened to him after the power goes out?

I get that you can’t really have us play him, he’s the enemy now but I just don’t feel like we really got the chance to play or interact with him. He was more or less incapacitated after his attack so there’s that too.

Just feels like Nick didn’t get awhile lotta time and attention given to him and he reminds me of Matt form Until Dawn. I get that he was essentially a Plus one being Emily’s BF but that man got like no screen time. He also reminds me of Jessica, home girl was asleep for like the majority of the game lmao.

Second off, Kaitlyn. She was also severely underused in my humbled opinion.

The way the game presented her, she just seem so full of potential, the way she put Jacob and Nick in the ground with her marksmen(?) skill's, how she often took charge of the situation, the fact that this girl jumped form a hanging car and landed back first on tires and proceeded to get up like nothing happened ?

They were playing her up to be the final girl and yet? She was just kinda there with Dylan against Caleb.

She’s like Sam tbh. Both feel like the final girls, both very bad assed and both reconfirm my *half hand flip*

Third off- ✨Ryan✨

He’s got to be my favorite but man, it just felt like there was something else to him, sorta like Josh.

He just felt like he knew what was going on or at the very least knew something that the others weren’t aware of. Considering how close he was to Chris, I wouldn’t have been shocked if he clued Ryan into the situation. Not outright tell him bout the werewolf’s but maybe that there’s creatures around here.

But who knows, maybe this is my over-critical mind thinkin that everything is sus and mistaking an awkward boy for something that he’s not. Also Him and Dylan ftw

Fourth- Emma. I don’t like her

No. Nope. Nuh. Not for me.

I just, no, She’s kinda manipulative and I don’t vibe with that. I get that Jacob is still in love with her and wants to stay with her and she doesn’t want to stay together. I can respect that, long-distant relationships aren’t for everyone so good on her for voicing her reasons.

But there is absolutely no fucking need to string that boy on for that long, to keep flip-floppin and givin him hope. That's just not it girl.

Also low-key thought that Emma and Abi were gonna be a item :P

Sixth of all Dylan is a fuckin king omg.

This man, i swear to god. He’s actual pretty damn smart and brave for telling Ryan to chop his hand off and being aware that there's an infection spreading when Nick is bite.

He’s good “comedic relief”, quite funny and I like how he vibes with Ryan and Kaitlyn. Gives off Chris vibes.

I thinks he’s neat.

Seventh goes to or girl Ash- I mean Abi.

Lack of time and attention tbh. sounds/acts like Ashley.

Kinda disappointed.

Eight is Mister “needs to snap outta his fucking trance” Himbo Jacob.

He’s the jock(cough cough Mike cough cough) and just radiates himbo energy.

Jacob, please im begging you, get over Emma. You’ll be better off I swear!!

Now on to various other rambles-

Travis Hackett is Flame-thorough guy, could say the whole fam is but we all know how that fairs.

I was also gonna cry my eyes out if Max died and Laura is pretty the final girl too.

Also, don’t lie to me-the werewolf’s are just reskinned Wendigos. I get that they didn’t want to stick the whole fuzzy-wuzzy furry werewolf’s but surely, just surely, they could’ve made them just a bit more werewolf looking?

They all looked slimy and smooth, bit of fur here would’ve done some good at making it look more mangy and viscous. I get that they are all covered in blood and gore but, they just look like slimy Wendigos.

I’m sure y’all could’ve guessed my stance on the end-credit scene but I’m sO DISAPPOINTEDIN THE LACK OF A GROUP REUNION. AH, there should've been tears shed for lost friends or tons of hugs and happy/awkward/flirty convos bout the whole damn night. but no, no, we got a podcast.

I get that it’s ties into the start with Ryan and the whatnot but we were robbed i tell you, ROBBED!!!

I’d give this like a 6.5 outta 10 tbh. It did keep me interested, loved all the clues and details despite some being super obvious(Dog boy...), Thought that Eliza was a good “replacement” for the totems and i enjoyed her but thought that her stroy kinda fell flat. You’d think she’d come out and like terrorize ya for your actions but no, she just threatens you.

Honestly thought that Mama Hackett was gonna play a bigger role but i was so shocked when Jack blasted her face off lmao. Good realism tho, got the chance to shoot someone why not take it? why wait.

#I just wanted to air out my thoughts #i enjoyed this game #will rewatch for fun #The Quarry #Abi Blyg #Dylan Lenviv #Emma Mountebank #Jacob Custos #Kaitlyn Ka #Nick Furcillo #Ryan Erzahler

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nullsleepy · 2 years

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Could you do a timinette shifter au where Mari an Tim are house cats and the rest are bigger more predatory animals? The family likes to make fun of them for being small and their cat like tendencies? If not that’s fine. Thank you!

Jason storms through the door to find Mars and Tim cuddled up in cat form.

“Hey Replacement, look what I found!” Jason slammed open the door, almost ripping it out of the hinges. His smirk viciously sharp, fangs glinting an almost black red from leftover blood. The phone in his hand depicted an image of a gun.

“Replaceme-?” Jason cut himself off, noticing two cats cuddled together in the middle of the bed. He sent a curious gaze towards the small animals. What?

The male cat, a black haired ojos azule, sent a glare at the man. Jason didn’t flinch, but instead felt the ends of his mouth twitch. He almost instantly switched to the camera app, snapping pictures.

“Oh Timmyboy~! The family will love these!” The cat hissed at him, likely wanting to tackle the man. Tim stopped himself from extendinghis fangs when he heard a small mewl.

“TimTam, go back to sleep..” The other cat, a female of the same species, spoke to the older male in their language. She pouted as she felt him pull away.

“Timmmm..” She whined, watching as the cat took the form of a human with cat-like features.

“Jason, I swear if you-” The teen stormed forward, reaching for the phone.

“Too late Timmyboy~! The whole family has already seen it!” Jason showed off the screen, his phone going wild with notifications from the “Batfam” group chat. “Shoulda locked your door~!”

“I did you bastard! You’re the one who picked the lock!” Tim could feel himself getting angrier, more moody.

“Awww, damn. ‘Should get a better lock then Replacement.” Tim swatted at the older man, barely missing. Jason quickly turned on his heels, rubbing through the halls. Tim grumbled, getting ready to chase after him.

“Tim.” A hand on his tail intercepted him, causing him to jump.

“Mars?” Timothy turned towards the now half human, half cat woman. “What are you-?” The girl cut him off, leaving a light kiss on his lips. He could feel his heart get caught in his throat, a heavy blush covering his face. Fuck.

She tugged at him, whining for him to come back to their cuddle time. He kicked the door behind them closed, tackling the girl onto the bed. He peppered her with little kisses, smiling as she let out soft giggles.

“Tim~ I want cuddles~” The girl yawned, running her hand through his hair. He let out a brief chuckle as he snuggled closer, a goofy, lovesick smile gracing his lips.

“Of course, Mari. All the cuddles you want.” He curled up to her, spooning her small body. As minutes flew by, they stayed in the same position, slowly getting more comfortable. The sun shines through the window, warming up the room.

Tim felt as her petite body became even smaller, furier. He grinned as he felt himself too, becoming a small creature.

Undisturbed, tiny snores flooded the room, the scene before Jason entered returned.

Extra:

GunsAndMoreGuns:

(Photo depicting two cats cuddled together on a bed)

Caught @TechNerd and @Mininette together 👀 I’ll sell more pictures of them for $30 a piece.

OG Bird:

AKEHHEUDHDHDHDHDDB

SO SMALL

I WILL VENMO $300 YOU RIGHT NOW JASON. SEND THEM ALL!

GunsAndMoreGuns:

Bet. Unless @FatherBat wants to give me a better offer?

FatherBat:

…

OG Bird:

DONT EVEN BRUCE, DONT YOU DARE!!

GunsAndMoreGuns:

He just venmoed me $750, sorry Dick. You lost >;)

Money’s money, little bro.

OG Bird:

I AM LITERALLY OLDER THAN YOU! LITTLE. BROTHER.

PurpleWafflesPlease:

Oh my gosh. LMAO

DamianWayne:

Father, why are you running to your office?

————————————————————————-

Notes: I hope this is good enough for now ^-^)/ a little bit of wholesomeness for us all.

#timinette #dc x mlb #maribat #mlb x dc #mlb x batman #we all deserve cat Marinette and cat Tim #they are just so cute damn it!#cat girl mari anyone #what about cat boy Tim #wholesome couple alert #Marinette will scratch you if they get interrupted one more time #BRUCE DONT ENTER THE ROOM #NO BAD BRUCE #MARINETTE WILL STAB YOU!

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darkdevasofdestruction · 3 years

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Smile For Me, Sweetcheeks ~ Ghostface x Fem!Reader

I've thought of this for a while, and it's gonna be

F U N

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Y/N opened her eyes groggily, finding herself on the grassy ground - As she lifted her head to scan her surroundings, she realised she was in some strange, dark place that resembled some weird park with tall trees, yet had random small buildings here and there...It almost seemed like a place to play hide and seek, was her first thought.

Next to her, 3 other people were getting up, looking extremely frightened, as they bolted the hell out of that spot, going in different directions.

But Y/N didn't, and instead, she walked around aimlessly, until she spotted someone dressed in all black, with a weird ghost-like mask, peeking from behind an old car, almost timidly, only to see him wave at her.

Grinning at him, thinking she finally met someone friendly around this place, she extended her arm up in the sky, waving excitedly, which made the man make his way to her.

"Hi! I'm Y/N! It's great finally seeing someone nice around here. The 3 other guys just yelled in my face and ran away. How rude, right?!" she sighed, crossing her arms with a pout, before going back to her friendly smile, extending her hand to shake his. "Woaw, those guys are jerks. Call me Ghostface, darling." he said in an amused, yet somehow hoarse voice. "Uhhh, Ghostface, how cool! You must be a horror movie fan, then? So am I! ...Hmm...Actually, do you have any idea how we got here? I think I need some lecithin, my memory is failing me." she scratched the back of her head sheepishly, only for him to chuckle. "Welp, there's 4 survivors and a killer. All you gotta do is either repair 5 generators and find the exit...Or find the hatch and escape. Basically, don't die, I guess. Fun, huh?" the guy explained, putting his arm around her shoulder, guiding her to who knows where. "...What the hell is this, the Hunger Games?" she looked up at him with a weird look on her face. "Haha, that would be fun! Alas, nothing like that. Ah, look at this, a gen! Here I'll show you how to repair it. You have to tinker with these parts, and then merge these together...You get the cables in the respective coloured sockets...Et voila! Haha, look at it! Fireworks! What a reward!" Ghostface clapped and cheered at the fireworks the generator made, laughing at the startled look on the girl's face, as she clearly didn't expect something like that to happen. "Uh...Honestly, this is insane. Can't we just, like...Go home? I don't think I'm up for dying, even if someone paid me to go through with this silly game." she sighed, crouching down to the next generator, awkwardly trying to repair it, but she was much slower and clumsier compared to him, and it even exploded in her face, making her yelp and fall down. "Dude! Not cool! This gen is working against me!" "Shoulda seen the face you made, toots! Haha, so funny! You're very entertaining, girl. Here, lemme help ya out." he said as he got on the other side of the of the gen and helped repaired it. "You're a real pro at this, man. Have you been playing this for long? Did they at least give you a worthy amount of money for the trouble you're going through? I mean, I'm sure you won very often...Or maybe you're like...The tutorial teacher or something? Is that why you look eccentric compared to those lame-os?" she was asking so many question, but boy, was she so off that it amused the killer so much! He now perfectly understood the wolf who dressed as a sheep, it was too much fun! She was so blindingly trusting, he could mess with her, and more, with the survivors at his heart's content! "Yeah, I win quite often, but they don't pay me! The guy is kinda blackmailing us to play his game, but it's fun when you get used to it." he explained, only to have two other survivors go past them - Her and Ghostface waved at them merrily, but they just shrieked and ran the hell away from there. "...Do I look that scary?" she muttered, looking at the man next to her with a confused expression. "Nahhh, you're a cutiepie. Those guys are just jerks." he petted her hair, beginning to walk again, only to find some really nasty, rusty hooks. "U-Uhm...Gh-Ghostface...? What are these for...?" she stuttered, frowning as she clinged on his arm instinctively. "I think you already know, toots. Careful with those, killers LOVE to impale their victims on these things. It's like a sacrifice for the big guy who's keeping us here." he chuckled as he watched the girl tremble like a little lamb seeing the knife approaching her neck. "...Can we go away from here, please? M-Maybe we can look for the...Uhm...Hatch, you called it?" she muttered, pulling him away from there. "Yeah. It's like a trap in the ground that leads to safety. It only appears when there's only 2 gens left. Felt that shockwave? It meant that the Hatch just appeared. Ah, sorry baby-cakes, I gotta run, but I'll see you around before the match ends, okay?" he was grinning under his mask, knowing that he has to kill the other 3 to make sure the Entity doesn't punish

either of them for some annoying reason...And oh, the shock and horror on her face will be fun~. "N-No...! Please don't go! This place is huge and scary, I'll get lost without you! And who knows what would happen if the Killer finds me? I don't wanna end up...Th-There...!" awww, that cute, little, frightened pout on her face, how lovely~! If only she knew... "Don't worry, cutie, is'yo' first game, the Killer ain't gonna mess with ya, I promise. And if he does, Imma make sure he regrets it. I'm sort of a boss here, you see." he put cupped both his gloved hands on her face, pinching them a bit too hard, just to hear her yelp one more time - And clearly, she didn't disappoint, as her eyes even watered a tiny bit. What a cute little lamb... "...If you're sure, then...Okay. I trust you." she muttered, turning away as she started walking away, only for her to look back at him and yell "Make sure you stay safe too, okay?! We have to escape this place together!" He raised his arm and waved dismissively, barely able to keep himself from laughing, as he started running and stalking the annoying survivors who actually thought they'd have such an easy game!

No, no, clearly not with him!

First, he slashed one of the survivors and put him on a hook, then mori'ed another and took a really cool selfie with their bloody face, and the last one he just messed around with, before repeatedly stabbing his back and throwing him in a corner, just where the Hatch was.

Those idiots thought they could escape him.

Think again.

He wasn't that idiot 'Legion', or that lame ass Amanda. Four lame thugs who can't do a simple job properly, or Jigsaw's useless lackey. Keh.

And at least he was fun, unlike Boring Michael! I mean, look at this masterpiece he made, it's a perfect piece of art! He even wrote Y/N's name on the wall in front of the hatch, so she could see and appreciate his work!

A loud noise that resounded through the place made him realise that, as he was having his fun playing with the obsolete Survivors, his cute little Y/N had her fun repairing generators, meaning that the exits could be activated, if he wasn't careful.

He had to find her quick.

Not that it was difficult for the Master of Stalking, especially since she was so clueless that she didn't even crouch to hide, or at least try to hide in lockers.

There she was...! Look at her, watching everything like a frightened meerkat! Aww, how he wanted to boop that cute nose of hers~! Maybe he could even let some blood paint her nose, and make fun of her, calling her Rudolph!

Ahh, Ghostface, you're so funny!

Yeah, Ghostface, I KNOW, right?!

"Yo, Y/N, over here! I found the hatch! Come on!" he waved his arms up in the air, yelling for her, and the look of sparkling glee on her face as soon as she saw him...Wasn't she such an adorable dummy~? "Ghostface, you're okay! I got so worried when I didn't see you in so long! I heard screams, and I thought something happened to you! I got so scared that I ran away and tried to do the last generators...And then a loud noise almost deafened me, and I had no idea what to do." she gesticulated rapidly, making him chuckle in amusement. Of course, he was worried for nothing. She wouldn't realise what she'd have to do, even if it bit her leg. Hmm, actually...~ "Nahhhh, I'm cool, haven't see the killer. Here, take the key, it will unlock the hatch. Less'goooo~!" he put his arm around her shoulder, guiding her casually where the hatch was, making sure she didn't see his work of art yet. "Oh, so this is the Hatch, huh? It looks scary. Are you sure this isn't some ladder that leads straight to hell or something? It looks...Shady." she muttered, looking at the dark abyss down below. "Don't worry, chickadee, ain't that long of a ride down. It's like a bunker filled with survivors, you'll be okay. They'll tell you what to do from then on. If you're scared, take this flashlight. See? You can see the bottom of the ladder. You'll be okay." he chuckled, weaving the flashlight around. "Wait...You're not coming down with me?" she gasped, her eyes carefully searching for the truth in his...Covered face. "I'd go down on you any day, sugar, but maybe next time we get to play around." he laughed crudely watching her frowning, flustering face. "H-Hey, don't be a jerk! I'm just worried about you!" she muttered, looking away, hoping her hair would cover her blushing face. "Hahaha, you're so fun to tease, Y/N. Only one person can go through the hatch. But s'all cool, I just gotta open up the door, since you did a great job with the gens. We'll see each other later, I can promise you that. Can't get rid of me that easily." he sniggered under his mask, waiting in anticipation until the girl realises his true nature. "Mhh...Alright...If you're so sure..." she muttered, shakily stepping down a few steps, only to be stopped by the man who took out a camera. "Wanna take a selfie before we finish this? Y'know, your first game, and a victory nonetheless...Come on, Smile for me, Sweetcheeks~!" he got on his knees, raising his mask a bit, before gluing himself to her body, one of his arms extending with the camera, while with the other he grabbed her face, kissing her cheek, making sure he guides her eyesight to his masterpiece, and as soon as he heard her gasp, he took the photo.

It was worth more than all the money in the world.

"Y-You...? You were the killer...?!" awww, look at her tremble! Her eyes were glistering with tears, and her plump, rosy bottom lip was quivering in betrayal. "You're too cute for this world, Y/N." he harshly put his mask down, before showing the girl the selfie he took as he mori'ed one of the survivors, and waved her goodbye with his knife, as she quickly descended down the ladder, soft whimpers echoing through the place.

"Till we see each other again, sweet cheeks~." the Killer rose to his feet, slamming down the hatch with his boot and wiping the blood from his knife with his latex glove, before laughing loudly at the endearing experience he just had.

If THAT was the reaction she had when seeing his little gift for her, imagine her cute faces when he'd actually go down on her, as he promised~.

#dbd #dead by daylight #dbd x reader #dbd imagine #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight imagine #ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface imagine #ghostface dbd #dbd ghostface #dbd ghostface x reader #danny johnson #danny johnson imagine #danny johnson x reader #jed olsen #jed olsen x reader #jed olsen imagine

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lady-o-ren · 2 years

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Never Without Me, Dear Heart

Ao3 Link (HERE)

A man-eating firedrake has been terrorizing villagers all across the Hielands, leaving bloody devastation in its wake. But as winter draws near, the terrible beast finds refuge in the hallowed mountains that encircle the small village of Broch Mordha.

But there's only one man brave enough to try and slay the firedrake before he awakens to feast.

And only one woman dares to follow him . . .

His Wife

His charm against all things grisly

My husband was lying in a pool of black-red blood, the firedrake lying breathless beside him. His father's ancient claymore had been plunged between the scales of the beast's long columned throat that glinted with the iridescence of a dying star in the faltering daylight.

I laid my hand on his mottled face, brushed his long sunfired curls from his split brow. Watched as strenuous breath passed through his lips, cracked like his leathered armor, clawed down from his heaving breast to his gullet and the hard muscles of his thigh.

How wretchedly beautiful here looked even half-dead.

"Am I dead?" Jamie rasped, throat rough and parched from the cries of battle. I would need to get him water. Though he'd demand that only a river of whiskey could quench his thirst.

"You tell me," I said, tracing the bold lines of his face with my mouth, tasting hot iron, and thanking God I could feel his heart and breath rising against me again. "Do you wish to die here beneath the burnt trees and sky or back home in our bed?"

The corner of his wide mouth twitched then broke slowly into a winsome smile as he licked his lips. I kissed those too, with a near violent passion for the torture he had put me through, letting him steal the air from my lungs.

"In your arms," he murmured much later, with eyes more brilliant than even the mighty seven seas, struggling to stay open. "At a very advanced age mind ye."

He then tried to raise his arm, plated with leather and iron, that promptly fell back with a PLOP to the ruined earth beneath us, and cursed himself with a throaty hiss. I took his big, battered hand instead, entwined our fingers tightly together, and tucked them between my breasts where my heart throbbed brutally with love beneath.

He sighed dreamily.

"Sae bonny they are, smooth like pearls and white as stars yer breests are." He then cocked a brow. "But it was yer arse I was reaching for, Sassenach. I'm in terrible need of that great fat rump to fill the ache in my hand."

Laughter softly trembled from me. If he had time to joke and insult me he'd be alright. He'd be mine to take home. Back to Lallybroch and elsewhere no more.

I kissed his bruised knuckles with utmost tenderness.

"Get up then," said I. "Where you can take a proper hold of them."

I began to rise but Jamie refused to budge with barely the strength to shake his head. "I dinna think I can, Claire."

"You can and you will, James Fraser. Just try for me, please."

"I said I can't." His voice cracked with a sob caught between his ribs that shook and rattled. "I'm dying, mo ghràdh, can't ye see?"

I caressed his face with my hand, coaxing him to meet my eyes.

"No, you're not," I said, blinking back tears. "You may have slain the beast, you bloody hero, but I was the one that cut out it's heart. Tore it to pieces. Fed you it's flesh bit by bit to keep you alive. Now get on your feet so we can leave this miserable mountain or I'll drag you by your curls to do so!"

He stared at me with a half-frightened and awed expression as if he were facing God (or maybe Lucifer as I was nearly as bloody as him now) and squeezed my hand, swallowing hard.

"My sister always said ye were a witch."

"And a great deal more, I know. She told me to my face. Made me vow to bring you home or she'd burn me to stake."

He hummed a chuckle knowing his sister meant every last word.

"Sounds like Jenny. It shoulda been her up here not me. The wee Valkyrie."

Then with all my strength, I helped Jamie to his feet. He swayed and nearly fell a dozen times, both of us sweating and panting in the end, but he managed an arm around my shoulders and a hard, lusty grasp of my arse to steady himself.

The fiend!

And oh, how I loved him so

"I still feel like shite," he groaned into the crook of my neck, breathing deep, the scent of me.

I in turn sighed gratefully, stroking the back of his bloody crown and wrapped my fingers around his thick tangled curls knowing mine were no better and maybe even worse.

"That's a rather small price to pay for bringing you back from the dead."

"Was I?" He asked, lifting his head to knit our brows together.

"Very nearly, my darling."

And then I cried in great gasping rivulets that I couldn't stop as I clung to the heart and soul and bones of the only man I would ever love.

Jamie hushed me lovingly in gàidhlig, thanking me for his life, and cradled my face between the strength of his big hands and kissed away every teardrop until our lips met desperately once more.

"Mo bheannachd," Jamie then whispered, reverently against my swollen mouth, as sparks of embers floated in the air around us, glittering like flecks of gold. "Take me home to your bed and never will I leave thee."

"Promise?"

I dug my nails into the exposed flesh above my husband's sainted heart, the man I knew without doubt would be the very death of me.

And I welcomed it

But not until we were both very old and terribly gray, at each other's side

Jamie didn't flinch even as I broke tender skin, only held me closer in the violet-blue shadows of the night darkening the mountain sky, and sealed his vow with a blistering kiss as our hearts beat as one.

Always and forever and not a day less.

A/N:

Going through some miserable grief. Thank you all for your prayers and support.

Wrote some drabble nonsense last night. Nothing extraordinary or meant to make sense.

Very loosely inspired by the Nibelungen story where the hero Siegfried bathes in dragons blood to become invulnerable (except the spot on his back above his heart where a leaf had fallen). But I didn't have the fortitude to write a bloody scene like that.

Also the dragon in this story isn't some massive megladon behemoth thing. I had something more in line with Gustave Dore drawings sooooo like the size of a Charizard I guess but a bit bigger.

I think there's a few quotes from the book here. One about Jamie dying at an advanced age (I think I remember reading that somewhere) and needing to grab her ass for steadiness and another one I either deleted or something cause I can't remember it now.

*Mo bheannachd - My Blessing

#outlander fanfic #outlander fic #outlander fanfiction #jamie x claire #gobbledygook writing

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thewitchandtheassassin · 3 years

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Caged and Cagey (Harley Quinn x Reader)

Summary: An Arkham escape has never been so satisfying.

Words: 956

Warnings: Violence, death (no one important), creepiness, language and the briefest mention of being called Daddy (because why not).

A/N: So, this is random and attached to nothing but I started thinking about the original SS movie so here we are.

Taglist: @natasharomanoffswife @natasha-danvers @aaron-despair @username23345 @xjiasx @nowthisisliving27 @higherfurther-romanova @summergeezburr @marvels-writings @onlyafewfindtheway @captain-josslett @hayleyokami

-X-

Slender legs languidly wrapped along the bars of the cell as Harley tried to expel the wild energy riled up within her. Trapped like an animal, she had no choice but to try and keep herself calm as she waited for the rescue she knew was coming. Pale fingers met metal as the room's door slid open and she peered at the guard sauntering inside, his smirk creating such a nasty feeling in the pit her stomach.

"How many times do we have to tell you to stay off the bars?!" Griggs sneered, his radio crackling to life as the second cage surrounding her bars slid open. "You're lucky I didn't tell them to light you up when you were upside down, though I'm sure it would've been such a pretty show, hotness."

Harley forced a flirty expression, slowly hopping to the ground as she stared at the creep who had been making her life hell since she was captured. "If I had something else to play on, I would."

The way his body shuddered nearly made Harley gag in disgust.

"I would offer to come in there but the big bosses wouldn't like that," he mumbled, clearly entranced, "Especially since you keep putting my guys in the hospital."

Shrugging innocently, Harley peered behind Griggs curiously. A few of the guards behind him didn't look familiar, their faces mostly obscured and hands lingering a little too close to their weapons. One in particular reminded her of someone but there was no way...

Or was there?

-X-

Watching that fucking bastard flirt with your incarcerated girlfriend made your blood boil, fury rumbling through your veins as you waited. You would kill him - slowly, painfully - before reuniting with the woman staring at you, letting his blood paint her skin. That was the only way he'd ever get to touch her again. She knew you were coming (there was never a chance of you leaving her here to rot with the scum of Gotham) but you hadn't managed to find a way to send her a message so you had simply chosen to wing it.

And seeing the way Griggs treated her, you wished you'd come sooner.

Eyes flickering up to the cameras stationed around the room, you watched the red lights flicker before going dark, each one turning off like domino pieces falling. Glancing to your right, you nodded and untucked your gun from its holster, gaze returning to the giggling blonde. Griggs obviously thought she was still flirting with him but you knew different.

"Daddy..." Harley sighed, eyes glittering in the fluorescent lights.

"I shoulda figured you were a kinky girl," Griggs grunted, still oblivious to Harley's lack of interest in him. "You can definitely call me Da -"

Bullets rang out as you rolled your eyes, the bodies of the few actual guards thudding to the ground as your men made quick work of them and you shot Griggs' legs in rapid succession, watching him drop helplessly to the floor. While nowhere the marksman that Deadshot was, you weren't to be taken lightly.

You didn't give him time to react, strolling over to the prone, howling man as he tried to comprehend what was happening. Blind with pain, he could hardly breathe as you gripped his shirt, the barrel of your gun dragging across his cheek.

"She wasn't talking to you, you stupid fuck," you hissed, letting the toe of your boot press into his bleed shin. "The only title you get is creep."

His hand wrapped feebly around your wrist, tears streaming down his cheeks. You'd never understood how Griggs had become a leader in Arkham, considering his cowardice and idiocy. The fact he was left in charge of the high security inmates was mind boggling and you often wondered if they left him here hoping someone would just break his neck.

"You're a disgusting little man, Griggs," you mused, stepping a little harder. "I'm going to do what someone should've done years ago."

Grabbing his gun, you tossed it aside before smirking at the guard.

"It's good to see some things never change." Snagging his handcuffs, you watched Harley snatch both his wrists through the bars while you maneuvered about, locking him against the cell he'd kept your girlfriend in for far too long.

Once he was secure (yelling obscenities but very much trapped), you fished the keycard to Harley's cell from his pocket before dropping your final surprise onto his lap. Bright numbers continuously shifting along the screen, Griggs seemed unable to understand what he was staring at.

Five thirteen...

Five twelve...

Five eleven...

Unlocking the cell, you grunted as Harley jumped into your arms, legs tight around your waist as her mouth crashed into yours. Teeth and tongues met in a fierce battle, your hands sliding over bare skin as you reacquainted yourself with the woman clinging to you. You regretted ever waiting so long despite knowing it hadn't been a choice but a necessity.

"Hi, kitten," you mumbled, nipping at her lip before remorsefully pulling away. "As nice as this is, we need to go. When that reaches zero, we don't want to be anywhere near him."

Harley nodded, pouting as she dropped to the the floor though it shifted into a maniacal grin as she peered at Griggs. "Bye, bye!"

Chuckling, you tangled your fingers with Harley's before tugging her away from the screaming man. Your men trailed behind you, pausing only when you turned to glance back at the (former) guard.

"I'd say it was nice knowing you but I'm a villain, not a liar. I'll see you in hell, Griggs," you called out, winking at Harley as you disappeared into Gotham's notorious asylum, ready to face the world.

Together.

#harley quinn imagine #harley quinn x reader #harleen quinzel imagine #dc comics imagine #dc imagine #dceu imagine #batman imagine #reader insert #reader imagine

314 notes · View notes

makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 292: You Say Jeans

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “well anyway here’s that Touya reveal I foreshadowed like a million years ago, viva la 2020.” Dabi was all “hello world, I’ve killed 30 people and today I’m going to explain to you all why” before he proceeded to explain ABSOLUTELY NOTHING but everyone was so distracted by his tale of child abuse and hero conspiracies that they didn’t much seem to notice. Can’t Ya See-Kun’s Shark Friend was all “IS THIS THE END OF HERO SOCIETY AS WE KNOW IT”, and Horikoshi was all “STAY TUNED”, and then Dabi set himself on fire and leaped off of Machia’s back like the chaotic evil, I-just-bleached-all-my-brain-cells weird little fire man he is, ready to burn everyone to crispy bits before they could even react properly to his whole big revenge speech. Fortunately he did not succeed on account of THE RETURN OF THE JING, THE JOAT, BEST FUCKING JEANIST, back from the dead by popular demand in what critics are calling “the best fucking comeback since Jesus himself.”

Today on BnHA: Best Jeanist snatches up Machia and the rest of the League with his fiber steel cables before you can say “more like BEAST JEANIST amirite.” Dabi gets all worked up and lights Hadou on fire which is a real JERK MOVE, and is all “THIS RIGHT HERE IS ALSO ENDEAVOR’S FAULT”, which, NOT SUPER CONVINCED ON THAT, BUT OKAY. Anyway so then he burns up all the cables holding him which is crazeballs btw, and then he and Shouto start fighting, and so basically the whole thing is a literal hot mess and we’ll see how that goes. Meanwhile Tomura wakes up and summons some Noumus, and poor Jeanist has to deal with those on top of the still-attempting-to-rampage Gigantomachia, and everyone else is all “we can’t help you on account of we’re all half dead”, and so it’s looking really bad. And then -- and I can’t stress enough how much I don’t even have the faintest idea how to segue into this next part -- the chapter ends with Mirio!?! just sort of POPPING UP OUT OF THE GROUND all, “SURPRISE, BITCH”, and it literally was so surprising that I am still just kind of speechless. WELL-PLAYED, I GUESS, lol wtf.

lol okay so the first page in the RHA scan is just the “three musketeers” movie promo image that we all already saw a few days ago. but it does confirm that (a) it is indeed a movie, and (b) that it’s set for a summer 2021 release! how exciting

okay so now back to our special Dabi edition of Making a Murderer

“ray of hope” oh hell yes. SAVE US MR. JEANIST

I guess he had a TV in his private hero jet or something?

gotta say, “dammit Dabi” does not even remotely sound like Authentic Best Jeanist Dialogue to me though. gonna need Caleb to see to this. well but what do you guys think? does Best Jeanist curse?? I personally feel like he’s one of those guys who NEVER EVER swears no matter what, except under the most hilariously trifling circumstances. like he’s eating an avocado one day and he accidentally stains the cuffs of his beloved jostume green and he’s all “FUCK”

btw how fucking rich is Best Jeanist though that he has his own fucking plane? the thought just suddenly occurred to me, you know? like even Endeavor, whose agency has its own on-site luxury apartment suites for all of his interns, still drives around in a dinky little car that Bakugou has declared to be too small. which, I guess we know why he felt that way now, seeing as the guy he previously interned with apparently gets around in Jeans Force One

anyway so back to the part where Jeanist shows up to save the day!! YEAH JEANIST WOOOOO

ILU JEANIST YOU REALLY ARE THE BEST!! HUGS AND KISSES!!!

lmao we just saw Gigantomachia take out like a hundred guys not ten chapters ago. and Best Jeanist shows up and takes him down in like two seconds. HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES LEAGUE OF VILLAINS. BET YOU’RE WISHING YOU’D TAKEN HIS QUIRK NOW, AFO. GET FUCKED YOU OLD SPUD

KACCHAN IS SO HAPPY TO SEE HIM AWW

SIDE NOTE, IIDA, YOU AND I ARE GONNA HAVE WORDS LATER ABOUT YOU ACTUALLY AGREEING TO PUT HIM BACK DOWN. YOU DO UNDERSTAND THAT THIS CHILD IS STILL DRIPPING BLOOD ALL OVER THE PLACE FROM HIS MULTIPLE STAB WOUNDS, RIGHT? WAY TO ASSERT YOUR AUTHORITY THERE. I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE CLASS PRESIDENT NOT THE CLASS CLOWN, COME ON NOW

LMAO DABI IS FRANTICALLY TRYING TO DO THE PLOT MATH

SHOULDA CHECKED MORE CLOSELY MY GOOD MARK. LOOKS LIKE YOU MISSED THE “MADE IN CHINA” STICKER ON THE BOTTOM. YOU HAVE BEEN BAMBOOZLED. OR ACTUALLY, I GUESS THE MORE ACCURATE WORD HERE IS JAMBOOZLED, AHAHAHAHA. JEANS

HOLY SHIT DABI

I legit almost thought that was Tomura for a second. you two look so alike now with the white hair and the crazy eyes

meanwhile, Shouto is still crying and it’s a lot to take, you guys. lotta feels

ffff come on Jeanist you better do something awesome again here, the mood of the chapter is starting to slip now

YES, GOOD, THAT’LL WORK

WELL YOU TELL ME, SPINNER. I GUESS THAT MEANS BEST JEANIST IS OFFICIALLY THE STRONGEST CHARACTER IN THE SERIES NOW. SORRY I DON’T MAKE THE RULES

ffff now Spinner is trying to wake Tomura back up. nah, how’s about we not do that

OH MY GOD HADOU YESSSS

MY GIRL OUT HERE WITH THE “NO THANK YOU” BOUT TO CURBSTOMP THE BIG BAD WITH HER QUIRK KSFHLKLK WHO HERE HAD “HADOU SAVES THE DAY” ON YOUR WAR ARC BINGO CARDS, YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!!

HEY!!!!

fucking son of a... fffkfkff... someone please reassure me that fire isn’t Hadou’s weakness. someone. anyone. also could someone please dial an ambulance and send them to Horikoshi’s house. but not just yet. first I’m gonna need you to wait about fifteen minutes or so while I take care of some things

well all right then, Dabi. so you wanna go on then and explain to us all how this, too, is somehow Endeavor’s fault?

oh I see, you’ve decided that since he’s responsible for “creating” you, everyone you hurt and kill is in truth really being hurt and killed by him! well now, that sure is convenient as fuck I guess

(ETA: that’s a nice effect with the panel sides getting all warped by Dabi’s quirk though, just noticed that.)

amazing how quickly you used up that sympathy card my guy. Shouto please kick his ass, I’m fucking done lol, you can all sort out the rest in therapy later

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE DIAL BACK DEKU’S EMPATHY STATS JUST A LITTLE BIT, HOLY --

“TODOROKI-KUN IS HURT THE MOST”, HE SAYS, WITH HIS ARM BONES SHATTERED INTO LITTLE TOOTHPICK-SIZED PIECES. I MEAN, HE’S PROBABLY TALKING MORE ABOUT MENTAL ANGUISH GIVEN THE CONTEXT HERE, BUT STILL. THAT’S ENOUGH HEROICS FROM YOU ALREADY FOR ONE DAY

NOOO JEANIST

LOTS OF SMOKE IN THE AIR RIGHT ABOUT NOW AND MY BOY’S STILL DOWN A LUNG. GOD DAMMIT

“if the number one suffers a total loss here, this country will fall to pieces” well okay, real talk though, I think the “country falling to pieces” part is pretty much unavoidable at this juncture. you all are just gonna have to try your best to pick up those pieces after the fact and see what you can do with them. if I were you I’d be less worried about the number one’s reputation and more concerned with the half-dozen child soldier interns who are still on the field and very much at risk of being burned to death should you suffer that “total loss.” please try to keep it together here for them

OH FOR FUCK’S

I really thought RockLockRock was gonna come into play here. USE YOUR QUIRK TO LOCK THE ROPES IN PLACE YOU DIP!! if he seriously just sits there and does nothing when his quirk could be the deciding factor I am cancelling his useless ass cute kid or no cute kid shfkjdls

(ETA: is he even there?? did he and Manual just hightail it out of there?? “well good luck, children.”)

also, we’ll put this aside for now to perhaps speculate about later, but what’s with Tomura remembering his dad’s house yet again in that far right panel?? and being itchy again?? I still have yet to fully work out the psychological mechanisms at work as far as his itchiness goes, so I’ll admit this is intriguing to me. it seemed like it was connected to his decay quirk, but then why is it acting up again now. what is this lol

yuh oh

forgot about these guys. looks like these heroes aren’t having such a fun time

oh fucksticks

excuse me ma’am but I don’t like this. you do know that my kids are all there, right. all burnt and impaled and broken-boned and the like. well except for Iida. he’s fine still. BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I FEEL LIKE WATCHING HIM GET TORN APART BY FOUR HIGH ENDS, WTF

HORIKOSHI YOU MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD

god fucking... okay look. Horikoshi. you win, okay!? congratulations, you win, this is your show and we’re all just sitting here at your mercy. fine. go ahead and just kill off everyone ever, then!! what am I even gonna do about it. stop reading?? fuck

this whole thing really went from zero to fucked before I could even blink huh. I really thought this was gonna be a turning point chapter for the heroes. shows what I know I guess??

meanwhile this motherfucker is just SCREAMING

ngl, if I wasn’t currently terrified on account of things suddenly taking such a drastic turn for the worse, this would be the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Jeanist my man, I hype you up like it’s my job because you are the greatest fucking meme character in the history of time, but make no mistake, you are also highkey WORTH ALL THE HYPE AND THEN SOME

seriously, though. don’t fucking mind him you guys, he’s just standing here in the coolest pose of all time taking on Gigantomachia all alone with one fucking lung because the substance pumping through his veins is COLD-BLOODED LIQUID DENIM, and DENIM FEELS NO FEAR

Best Jeanist really needs to get his own theme song. -- oh my god I just finally thought of a title for this post. lmao and it’s the dumbest thing. omg

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKI BROS ARE OFF IN THEIR OWN DRAMATIC LITTLE FIRE WORLD

which one do you think is the Mario and which is the Luigi. well, but I mean, Dabi clearly thinks that he’s the Luigi though and that’s why he’s so mad. nobody wants to be Luigi. what a life

THAT’S IT, SHOUTO!! POINT OUT ALL OF HIS HYPOCRITICAL BULLSHIT, I WANT ANSWERS

JUST TO CLARIFY, IT’S THAT NATSU, NOT SOME OTHER NATSU!! SO WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!!

OH, WELL IN THAT CASE

BUT OF COURSE. THAT WOULD MAKE IT ALL WORTHWHILE, holy shit. okay I’m just gonna go ahead and say it, Dabi is a piece of work. I really thought this arc would make him more sympathetic at long last, but it seems like it’s doing just the opposite?? this is like an anti-redemption arc. I don’t relish the thought of venturing into the fandom tags once I finish reading this lol

(ETA: well folks, I’ve done it. and actually it was pretty interesting because there are apparently like ten different things that people are mad about, and so it’s like. each post is a new adventure lmao.)

so Shouto is all “BRUH HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST IT” and Dabi is all “YES”, basically? like, he says he’s completely lost his feeling for anything. omg. but you were so sweet. how does that even happen

“finally I can kill you” okay for real what the heck is your damage bro?? can we not. I like Shouto just the way he is, un-killed

oh shit and now the Noumus are here

cue Bakugou diving in to save his mentor, STAB WOUNDS BE DAMNED!! actually it would make more sense for it to be Iida, but if Kacchan is really fixin’ to go full Shounen Dumbass here then he might as well go all out, y’know

-- unless of course, Deku decides to activate another quirk??

“last I checked, the main character of this series was still me” OH? WELL I SUPPOSE THAT IS TRUE, SO PRAY TELL, WHAT HAVE YOU GOT LEFT UP YOUR SLEEVE YOU SUICIDAL BRUSSELS SPROUT

fucking love how he’s all “HAHAHA WITH MY NEW QUIRKS I CAN STILL DO STUPID SHIT EVEN WITH MY ARMS AND LEGS GROUND TO A FINE POWDER” btw. what can I say. Deku gonna Deku

FMMFHDKUHK W H A T

HOLY SHIT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. WHAT THE WHAT. QUE THE FUCK

(ETA: okay look, all the love in the world to the brave scanlators who take time out of their lives to translate the leaks every week just so we can read the chapter a couple of days early like the addicts we are. that said, translating Mirio’s signature “POWER!!” -- which was already written in English in the original scan -- to “POG-CHAMP” is just a whole new level of wtfuckery from them lmao. is the Lida person back at it again?? amazing.)

MIRIO!?!?! SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY?!?! POGS HIMSELF UP OUT THE GROUND TO BEAT THE NOUMUS LIKE IT AIN’T NO THING. JUST LIKE WE ALL PREDICTED!? I’M SORRY, DID YOU NOT SEE THAT COMING?? YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOUR DAILY HOROSCOPE FROM ASTROLOGY DOT COM DIDN’T HAVE THAT ONE IN THE CARDS?? WAS IT NOT OBVIOUS?? TODOROKIS PLUS BEST JEANIST EQUALS MIRIO??

hot damn. Tintin really saw the writing on the wall with the impending Dabi Discourse and was all “NOT SO FAST” lmao. “HERE’S A BRAND NEW THING FOR YOU ALL TO DISCOURSE ABOUT” MIRIO YOU WILD CHILD. YOU GLORIOUS THUG

MEANWHILE LET’S NOT FORGET WHAT MIRIO HAVING HIS POWERS BACK ACTUALLY IMPLIES. HOLY SHIT. SUDDENLY WE CUT BACK TO ALL MIGHT’S OFFICE, ALL THE WAY BACK AT UA. ERI BRANDISHES HER TOKOYAMI-GIFTED BUSTER SWORD, A DETERMINED GLEAM IN HER EYE. “I HEARD YOU WERE TRYING TO HAVE A GIRL POWER ARC WITHOUT ME.” OH. MY. GOD

#bnha 292 #best jeanist #todoroki touya #dabi #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #hadou nejire #toogata mirio #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

486 notes · View notes

mammonshuman92 · 3 years

Text

- Watched - Pt.3

(Mammon x GN!MC)

**TW: cussing, stalking, kidnapping, religion,

Note: C/N (coworker name)

“Man, I’m starvin’. What’s takin’ so long anyway?” He grumbled, remembering the whole ‘first name basis’ thing with the delivery driver.

He was laid on his back across your bed scrolling through social media, impatiently waiting for you to return. His stomach started to growl.

“Maybe I should go check? But, MC said to stay here so no one could see me.” He said to himself, a slight pout on his lips.

He heard a small shuffling noise come from the living room, it sounded like a paper bag crinkling.

Ok, ya got the food, now don’t be tryin’ to chit chat MC, I know how ya are. I’m dyin’ in here!

The bedroom was a straight shot down the hall from the door, making it impossible to sneak a quick peek without fully exposing himself.

He could hear you talking back and forth with...Alex. He huffed to himself remembering your chumminess with the take out guy. Something just seemed weird to him about the whole thing.

Somethin’ is fishy about him always havin’ MC’s route or whatever. Does nobody else deliver for that place? I bet he’s got a crush on MC or somethin’.

“I’ll kick his ass.” He said out loud, his own thoughts making him sour.

He listened again, trying to hear what was being said. He couldn’t hear any actual words, but he could hear Alex’s voice. Barely, though.

Wait a minute.. Is he whisperin’? What’s he gotta say to MC that requires whisperin’?! I gotta get outta here.

Mammon was getting himself worked up, assuming this delivery guy was confessing his love to you. He’d nearly convinced himself to march out there and confront the creep. To hell with staying hidden!

Before he could blow his cover, he heard something hit the front door followed by more shuffling movement. He calmed down a bit, thinking the noises he heard were of you getting the food inside and trying to kick the door shut.

He impatiently waited for you to call out, telling him the coast was clear and that he could finally come eat. But, you didn’t.

After a couple minutes passed with no new noise, he grew slightly anxious.

He stood up and started pacing beside the bed, feeling antsy.

C’mon, MC. What’re ya doin’? I’m witherin’ away! Before long I’m gonna shrink up and turn into a Little D or somethin’..

Suddenly, he heard voices again. Well, just the delivery guy’s voice, still a hushed tone. He groaned to himself.

“If he don’t hurry up and go away, I’m gonna eat him instead.” He grumbled quietly to himself.

Something didn’t feel right though. Why was Alex’s voice the only one he heard? It had been at least five minutes since he heard you say something. It’s not like he just missed what you said because you were too quiet for him to hear, or you just chose not to contribute to the guy’s conversation.

You always talk, to basically anyone you come in contact with, never really knowing a stranger. He’s pretty sure you haven’t gone five minutes without talking since he met you. That’s why it seemed so weird to him.

That alone wasn’t really enough to expose himself though, was it?

To say you’ve been through a lot lately is an understatement. You’re sleep deprived and your nerves are shot. With everything that’s been going on, it would be more weird if you didn’t act a little different. He didn’t blame you for not being your usual self.

He still couldn’t shake this feeling though.

A sudden, loud noise outside got his attention.

Was that a car door?

He moved quickly, putting his back against the wall, scooting over to the doorway.

“MC? Is he gone?” He whispered.

No answer.

Screw it.

Very slowly, he peeked his head around the corner, careful not to be seen.

“MC?” He whispered again, louder this time.

Still nothing.

Somethin’ is definitely wrong..

He fully emerged in the doorway, eyes darting around, taking in his surroundings. As he quickly made his way up the hall, he noticed the door standing wide open. He could see that an older model car was parked in front of the house and you were no where in sight.

Hand still on the door knob, he turned around to call out into the house, “MC, where ya at? Ya know ya left the door-”

Before he could finish, the car outside suddenly accelerated, kicking up dirt and rocks as they sped off.

What the..?

“Guess he didn’t like his tip..?” He whispered to himself.

He shut the door and turned around slowly, only taking a couple steps before he came to a stop. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he had.

“Oi, MC! D-don’t ya know you’re supposed to answer when THE Great Mammon calls for ya?” He waited, but the house was still. All he could hear was his heartbeat in his ears.

He walked further into the house, quickly looking around the kitchen before heading back down the hall.

Why ain’t they answerin’.. c-could it..? Nah..

“This ain’t funny ya know..” He called through the house, hoping that you’d somehow slipped past him.

Again, he was met with bone chilling silence.

Slowly, he started piecing all the little weird things that didn’t make sense together like a puzzle. The silent house and wide open door, abandoned food, the car speeding away..

The same delivery guy somehow always having this route...

His heart sank.

No, no, no, no!

He ran from room to room in a panic, desperately calling out to you, begging you to answer him.

This ain’t happenin’.. They gotta be hidin’ or something. Yeah, that’s it!

“MC! Where are ya? Talk to me, please!” He screamed, voice breaking around the hard lump forming in his throat, tears beginning to prick at his eyes.

No, it can’t be.. It can’t be..

With trembling hands, he dug his phone from his pocket, quickly dialing your number.

“C’mon, pick up. Please, please pick up.” He pleaded as he paced the floor.

His stomach dropped when he heard it ringing within the house, quickly following the sound until he found it on the coffee table where you had left it earlier. He stood there unmoving, staring at his picture and contact name with hearts on the screen, tears streaking down his face.

The weight of it all came crashing down like a tsunami, forcing him to his knees. With his face in his hands, he sobbed uncontrollably.

I shoulda listened to my gut when I thought somethin’ was wrong! Why did I wait so long to look for ‘em?! He took MC, he took MC! Dammit!

How did he let this happen? He was right here, right here, and he didn’t sense the danger. He couldn't protect you again, letting you fall right into the hands of the psycho creep who had been relentlessly harassing you, who was planning to do who knows what.

He had to do something. Anything.

Get the hell up! Ya gotta go find MC NOW! There’s no tellin’ what this creep is gonna try.

He stood up and wiped his face, trying to compose himself as he switched into demon form.

“I can still catch ‘em!” He made a beeline for the door, stopping abruptly as he reached the thresh hold.

“Wait, it’s the middle of the day and this ain’t the Devildom. A demon flyin’ around on a man hunt would be real bad.” He thought aloud.

People would most likely panic and if history proves anything, nothing good ever comes from humans when they panic.

He had to try and think rationally, as hard as it was. He wanted to rush in and save you as quick as he could, but going in blind without a decent plan could get you hurt...or possibly worse.

He switched out of demon form and moved back into the living room, trying to come up with an idea.

Your phone was here so he couldn’t have you tracked by GPS and he didn’t remember much about the car except that it was older. He didn’t even know what the guy looked like since he’d had to hide. All he knew about him was his first name and that he worked at a restaurant.

“The take out place would for sure have everything about him on file!” He quickly punched in the name of the place into his phone’s search engine, then suddenly paused.

“Wait a minute..I can’t just waltz in there and ask for someone’s personal info. They’d call the cops or somethin’. Damn!”

He was beginning to feel hysterical. He didn’t have much to go on and every idea he came up with was crap. A few ‘ding’ sounds from the coffee table tore him from his thoughts. It was your phone.

Someone named C/N had sent you a couple texts about work and judging by the text log, you talked to them often.

“Man, I hope this C/N knows somethin’ cause I’ve got nothin’ else to go on..”

Luckily, he remembered the name of the coffee shop, having heard you talk about work often. A quick internet search and he had the directions. He was out the door like a shot.

With his newfound breadcrumb, he was one step closer to finding you.

A bell chimed above the door when he entered the shop, alerting the worker behind the counter of his presence.

“Hi, how can I help you?” They greeted him as he walked up to the counter.

“Hey, is there a C/N here by any chance?”

“Oh, uh, yeah just a sec.” They went through a doorway behind the counter, returning moments later with another person in tow.

“Hello..? I’m sorry, do I know you?” They asked, approaching Mammon, visibly confused.

“No, but you know MC, right?” He asked, uninterested in beating around the bush.

“I’m not sure I can answer that.” They said cautiously, visibly tense.

They do know somethin’.

“Here, look.” He said, pulling up the gallery on his phone, showing them multiple pictures of you and MC together.

“Oh, so you’re the boyfriend. MC has told me about you. Uh, anyway, is there something I can help you with? I need to get back to work..”

“Yeah, has MC ever mentioned anythin’ about a guy named Alex before?” He asked.

Please, please, please

“Alex..Alex..” They repeated, tapping a finger on their chin as they thought it over. “They did, actually. We went to the movies about two months ago, and ran into a guy they knew. It was their usual deliver guy I think? Said his name was Alex. He gave me the creeps.” They explained.

“Why is that?”

Yes! We’re gettin’ somewhere.

“He just seemed..I don’t know, off? And when I met him, I actually remembered seeing him a few days earlier on my way to work. There was another A.T.A. protest and I saw him in the group demonstrators. He denied being there when I brought it up, saying it had to be his doppelganger or something, but I know it was him. When we ran into him at the movies he said he had just got off work, and he was wearing the exact same shirt and hat as the day of the protest.” They informed him.

“Wait, A.T.A.? What’s that?” He asked curiously.

“Anti-Treaty Association. They’re exactly what the name suggests. Everyone involved in the exchange program is public knowledge. Names, pictures, updates on how the program was going, etc. All easily found on any search engine. If he is part of the A.T.A., why would he be friendly with MC? There’s no way he didn’t know who they were.” They said.

This Alex guy is definitely the stalker. I bet if I dig into this A.T.A. I can find him..

“Alright. Thanks for your help.” He said as he turned to leave, C/N took a few steps after him.

“Hey, uh, is MC okay? I know they haven’t been themselves lately, but uh, you coming here and asking all these questions kinda scares me..” They admitted, fear for their friend written on their face.

“MC is uh, goin’ through some stuff. I’m gonna put an end to it though.” His voice was rough, angry. His face however, was full of desperation and sadness.

Mammon thanked C/N again for their information and left the coffee shop on a new mission. He uncovered another piece of the puzzle, new information that could lead him to you.

No one knew exactly what this guy was capable of, but he had the most important piece of Mammon's existence with him. There wasn’t anything he wasn’t willing to do, in any realm, to bring you back safely. He would breach the Celestial Gates without thinking twice if it would bring you back to him.

He was going to show them exactly why he's the second strongest of the seven rulers of the underworld.

I’m comin’ MC. I will find ya, I promise.

“Get out.”

The scorching heat inside the trunk made you nauseous, and severely thirsty. You felt weak and disoriented, unable to move much. You weren’t sure how long you had been stuck in there before you finally felt the car come to a stop. The lid opened, blazing sunshine poured inside the dark space, making your eyes water and squint reflexively.

“I said, get out!” He screamed.

He wrapped his hand around your wrist hard and yanked you from the trunk, letting you drop to the ground. You were much to weak to try and brace yourself so you fell pretty hard, getting small scrapes and dirt on your elbows and forearms.

You tried to open your eyes to try and get an idea of where he had taken you, but before they could adjust to the blinding sunlight, he tied something around your eyes.

“Can’t have you trying to escape.” He said to himself, as he finished tying up your hands. The restraints were very tight, already starting to hurt your wrists.

“I’m not going to.” You said weakly, your words making him laugh.

“Well, at least your a smart demon slut. Somewhat, anyway.”

Honestly, you weren’t planning to escape. If the opportunity presented itself, you would make a run for it, but you weren’t actively looking for an escape route. However, you had no intention of giving this creep what he wanted, or giving up without one hell of a fight.

Pulling you by the restraint around your wrists, he began to drag you across the ground. He let go of you a minute or so later. He didn’t drag you very far, ending up in some kind of building judging by the change in temperature and the rough feeling of concrete beneath you. It felt a little cooler in here as if you were out of direct sunlight, but the air was still fairly hot and sticky.

You did your best to pay attention to the things around you. The sounds, smells, what little you could feel. Outside you could hear cows in the distance and some kind of humming noise. It was definitely hot, but more like that humid feeling before it storms. You could also smell it too, the incoming rain. That warm earthy smell.

You could hear Alex nearby messing with something metal, there was also the sound of running water somewhere close.

I can’t believe Alex was actually the stalker this entire time... Explains how pictures taken of me from outside my house though.. I wonder what he plans to do..

You promptly chased away those thoughts in order to keep yourself calm, replacing them with thoughts of him, the time you’d spent together along with all the memories that came with it.

How soft and fluffy his hair felt when ran your fingers through it. The way he smelled; not the Devilish No.5, although you did love it, it’s smell closely related to the famous human world version, but his smell. Crisp and clean like fresh laundry or new clothes, slightly smoky like leather because of his favorite jacket and small undertones of warm cinnamon and vanilla.

The always groaned about your selection for movie night but was the first one to get really into it. Having a concert while cooking when you had kitchen duty together, getting in trouble for talking and laughing in class and later being scolded by Lucifer for it. How he always used to complain how bad humans smell, only to find out he started buying your brand of body wash for himself and would also try to casually smell his hoodie after you’d worn it.

The thought of never seeing him again, never experiencing anymore memories like these or the chance to make new ones, kept haunting you. A hard lump was forming in your throat, tears beginning to prick your eyes.

“Aw, what’s the matter darlin’? The abomination you chose as a lover isn’t rushing in to save you like Prince Charming? Imagine that.” He spat.

You ignored his sarcastic comments, wanting answers of you own, “Why are you doing this?” You could hear him walking toward you, his footsteps getting louder as he approached. The sound stopped abruptly, then he crouched down next to your head.

“I told you, you need to be cleansed.” His tone was very matter-of-fact.

He grabbed your wrist restraint again and drug you another ten feet or so. Easily picking you up and hoisting you into the air until the rope around your wrists caught on something. He let go, your full weight coming down on your restraint. You were suspended in the air, feet barely skimming the floor.

He checked your ropes to make sure it was still secure with the added weight and gravity, then he removed your blindfold. The sudden change causing you to blink several times.

Your previous assumptions had been right, you appeared to be in a warehouse that had been abandoned for quite some time. Most of the windows were broken, big vines and other foliage creeping into the building. The rusted remnants of machinery scattered around the large, open room. You looked above you to see that you were hanging from a large hook that was suspended by thick chain from a metal beam up above. Far to your left you could see what looked like a large pool or even one of those big basins you usually use to water cattle, with a hose draped over the side. There’s the source of the running water you heard.

Wait...a stock tank with water, ’cleansed’...is he going to..baptize me?

“Cleansed? That’s been mentioned quite a bit in the dozens of letters I’ve been getting. Well, you would know, huh? Since you’re the one behind it all. What I don’t understand is why?”

It came off as more sarcastic than you intended, but you didn’t really care. You had been terrified for weeks about the stalker. What would they do when they finally got to you? You haven’t truly felt alone in over a month, as if someone was always hiding in the shadows watching, waiting. Your anxiety has been through the roof and you’re in a nearly constant state of paranoia and fear.

But, now that he was in front of you, you didn’t feel scared. You wanted answers.

“Because they don’t belong with our kind. Uniting our realms is blasphemy and will throw the human world into chaos.”

‘Don’t belong with our kind’..? Whoa, what the hell..

“Blasphemy? But, the Celestial Realm is on board with it. The angels in the exchange progr-” He cut you off before you could finish, his sudden booming voice echoed through the spacious warehouse, startling you.

He stood with his back to you, facing a long metal table that looked as if it used to be a conveyor or some other piece that once belonged to one of the old machines inside the long forgotten building.

“The exchange program was a joke! Those devils just needed a good cover to get their claws on our realm so they could take it over! Using their dirty tricks and magic to bring corruption and pollute us with sin.” He stared you down like a mad man while he yelled.

This was so bizarre, he sounded insane. Like, one of those people that wore tin foil hats. This version of Alex, the real one, was scary. You would’ve never guessed in a million years that this guy was the same one that you talked about the weather and current events with a few times a week.

“None of that is even remotely true! They just want to bring peace among the realms, to prove that they are not what all the harmful, hateful rhetoric claims they are. So we can all just co-exist! That was the entire point of the exchange program! To learn about the Devildom; it’s people and culture.” You fought back.

His face twisted up in disgust, visibly becoming more and more agitated every time you spoke. He stalked closer, stopping maybe six feet in front of you, staring at you intently.

“That kind of thinking is exactly why you need to be cleansed. You’re a human, or has being a demon whore and becoming the embodiment of sin made you forget that? You are nothing but a weak, powerless human to them. A pawn in their bigger plan, collateral damage if things went wrong.”

You never cared what assumptions people made or the rumors they started regarding your stay in the Devildom. However, when the very demons you loved and cared about became the subject of people’s whispering, you were willing to fight with no intentions of backing down.

You, out of everyone, who had to live in the House of Lamentation for a year, escaped death from a couple of the brothers, helped them mend familial bonds, and held pacts with all of them, should know better than anyone, exactly who they are.

“You don’t know anything about them!” You yelled lurching forward as you filled with anger, lightly swinging back and forth where you were suspended, the thick chains above you clanking, “The things they’ve been through, they things they’ve seen. The sacrifices they had to make..” You heart ached for them. What happened during the Great Celestial War, their fall.. They’ve been through a great deal and they, along with the rest of the Devildom, are undeserving of such prejudiced hatred.

“Being demons doesn’t automatically mean they are bad people, just like being human doesn’t make you good.” You stared him down, lacing venom in your words. He squinted his eyes at you, unhappy with your implications. “That fact was thoroughly proven during my time there. Some of kindest people I have ever met, as well as the people I love and cherish the most, are demons.”

You would forever stand behind the program, your now second home, and all the friends and loved ones you made along the way. No matter what this psycho could come up with, you would not be swayed. You knew them for who they are, all Alex knew was hatred.

He scoffed at your words, walking toward you as he shook his head in disgust, eyes boring into yours. He stopped just inches in front of your face. You held onto your resolve, staring back at him intently, not letting him see that you were completely terrified. It’s what he wanted; to feel superior and pass judgement on those he deemed unworthy.

You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction though; to feed his ego, his delusions. You refused to bow to fear, instead giving it all you had to make sure that if this was how it would end for you, you would fight against his prejudice and hatred until your final moments.

“We will start with the normal cleansing.” He backed away from you, confirming your suspicions as he gestured to the stock tank. “Although I think your soul might be too far gone for it to be completely effective.” He smiled wickedly as he turned around, going back to the table he’d been at earlier and picked up the same knife he’d held to you when he kidnapped you. The only other weapons you could see on the table were a baton and a taser. There was also a thick book you could only assume was a bible and a large jar of water. The most concerning however, was the gas can, thick work gloves, and what looked a lot like a body bag.

“This may call for a more extensive purification.”

PART FOUR COMING SOON!

#obey me!#obey me fanfic #obey me mammon #mammon x mc #trigger warning #potentially triggering #obey me shall we date #obey me angst

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fandom-imagines-stories · 3 years

Text

Lost Boy

Sodapop Curtis x Reader

Words: 4305

Summary: 16 years of never belonging and you’ve finally had enough. You move in with your outcast sister in Tulsa and meet a group of boys who finally make you feel like you’re where you’re supposed to be. Inspired by the song Lost Boy by Ruth B.

Notes: Peter Pan is one of my all time favorite stories and I love this song. I thought it could bring a whimsical, yet still angsty feel to a Sodapop imagine so I hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: Mentions of abuse

Sodapop and more: HERE

There was a time, when I was alone

Nowhere to go and no place to call home

You always wanted to know what it was like to fly. To soar above the clouds, too far away to hear your parent’s screaming. Watching the world zoom by through the car window was the closest you’d ever felt to flying. You were free.

Pulling up to the little shack of a house, your sister, Beth, gave you a small smile.

“It's not much. You’ll be sleeping on the couch until we can clean out the attic.” She rambled. Beth rambled when she was nervous. “We were going to have you stay in the boys’ room, but Michael has a fever so he’s had to stay in bed-”

“Beth,” You gave her the biggest smile you could. You hadn’t smiled like that in a long time. “It’s perfect.” There was a loud racket coming from the house at the end of the block and three rowdy boys came bounding down the street.

“Hey Mrs. Austin.” One greeted as you both got out of the car. Your sister waved and he grinned. You never knew a boy could have a smile as nice as he had.

“Steve, my engine is making that sound again.” Beth said to one of the other boys.

“I’ll look at it as soon as we get back.” He said and the three took off down the street again. The one with the nice smile looked back at you and for a second you thought he might have winked.

“Who was that?” You asked, turning your attention back to your sister as she helped you unpack. You didn’t have much. Just some clothes and a couple books.

“The one I was talking to is Steve Randal. He’s been helping me keep this piece of junk rolling.” Beth patted the hood of the car. “The others are two of the Curtis boys. They live with their big brother Darryl down the block.” She pointed to the house the boys had come out of. “Nice kids.”

You watched them walk for a moment longer before taking your things inside. Your brother in law greeted you with a suffocating hug and one of your nephews wrapped around your leg.

“John.” Beth laughed, prying him off of you. John was six-years-old and Michael was four. They were two of the sweetest and silliest boys you’d ever met.

“Look at how big you’ve gotten,” You said, feeling a twinge of guilt. You hadn’t seen the boys since Michaels first birthday. You were lucky if your parents let you write Beth letters.

Beth was your age when she got pregnant with John. Your parents kicked her out of the house and told her never to come back. Her and Jack got married and moved here, to Tulsa. Two years later, she had Michael. They were happy, which was more than you could say for your parents. But you’d never have to worry about them again.

After you settled in a little, you decided to find a quiet place in the neighborhood to read. You’d lost count how many times you had read Peter Pan, but you never got tired of it. The idea of a place like Neverland got you through every fight, every tear filled night, and every cigar burn.

You walked around for a while before you found a nice spot in the big empty lot. There were a couple of logs to lean on and a spot where a fire had been. With winter break coming to its end, the January air made you shiver. You didn’t mind. You were too happy to even notice.

Just as you opened to the first page, you saw a figure approaching. He was hunched over with his hands shoved in his pockets. He didn’t even notice you until he reached where you were sitting. This must be his usual spot.

“Hey, who are you?” He spat, though it was hard to be intimidated by his quivering voice.

“My name is Y/N,” You said calmly, setting your book aside. “I just moved here.”

“Yeah, well you better beat it.” He ducked his head like he was trying to hide his face from you. “There are some real creeps around here at night and you don’t look like no greaser girl.”

“I’m usually pretty good at handling myself.” You stood, not to scare him, but to show that you weren’t scared. “What’s your name?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Well, if we’re going to be friends, I’d like to know your name.”

“Who said I wanted to be friends?”

You sighed and tucked your book under your arm.

“Suit yourself.” You walked past him, bumping his shoulder as you went.

“Wait.” He squeaked. You turned around. “What… what are you reading?” A little surprised, you lifted up the cover so he could see it.

“It’s my favorite. I’ve read it so many times, but I never get tired of it.” You beamed as he read of the gold lettering on the cover, worn from years of being very well loved. You could see his face now and you held back a gasp. His cheek was red and swollen and his lip was split. He caught you staring and quickly turned away.

“Like I said, you better get out of here.” He huffed. Without thinking, you put a hand on his shoulder.

“My dad hit me too.” You didn’t know how you knew, but you did. At first, he seemed angry and jerked his shoulder away. But his face softened and he looked at the ground.

“My name’s Johnny.”

“Now was that so hard?” You playfully nudged his arm to try and ease the tension. He even smiled a little.

“Johnny!” Another figure appeared across the lot, barreling towards you like a steam engine. You were worried that it might be his dad, but as he got closer, you saw how young he was. He looked Beth’s age, maybe younger.

“Hey Darry.” Johnny greeted, his voice still quiet.

“I thought that was you I saw slinkin 'over here.” the man crossed his arms disapprovingly. “The hell are you doin out here? You’re gonna freeze to death.” Darry saw the signs of violence on the boy’s face and sighed. “Come on home with me and I'll fix you something to eat.”

“Thanks Darry.” Johnny muttered. Darry’s stare landed on you.

“Haven’t seen you before.”

“I just moved here today.” You meant to sound tougher, but your voice came out as a squeak. Man, he was scary. After giving you a once over and figuring you weren’t trouble, his hard stared turned a little more welcoming.

“You must be Beth Austin’s kid sister.”

“Yes, sir.”

“No need for that, now.” He chuckled. “You can call me Darry, same as everybody else. Your sister told me to watch out for you.”

“She did?” You knew Beth was protective, but she didn’t have to alert the neighborhood.

“Probably wants you to stay away from us greasers.” Johnny said and Darry tousled his hair.

“You can come over for dinner too, if you want.” He offered. You would have declined, but your stomach started growling something awful. Darry motioned for you to follow him.

“That’s Darry for you.” Johnny whispered with a small smirk. “He’s got a habit of takin’ in strays.”

He came to me with the sweetest smile

Told me he wanted to talk for a while

It was kinda funny how well you fit in at a table full of boys. Darry was still fixing dinner and Johnny was talking to the youngest Curtis, Ponyboy. It only took a little convincing from Johnny for Ponyboy to get comfortable with you being there.

“Damnit, where is that boy?” Darry exclaimed, throwing down a dish towel.

“He probably got caught up talking to all those girls that come to see him.” Ponyboy said, sounding a little jealous.

“Yeah, well if he wants dinner, he better get his butt back here.”

“Who are we waiting or?” You asked Johnny in a low voice.

“Oh, they’re just goin’ on about Sodapop. He’s the middle one.”

“His name is Sodapop?” You wondered. You didn’t laugh like other girls sometimes did. You were actually curious.

“Sure is. Our dad liked unique names.” Ponyboy beamed. “And Soda’s as unique as they come.”

“That’s one word for it.” Darry laughed, shaking his head. As if he heard his name, the middle Curtis burst through the front door, an excited grin lighting up his face.

“You shoulda seen her, Darry.” He howled. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“You say that about every girl.” His older brother scoffed.

“Well this time, I mean it. And she’s just down the street!” Sodapop leaned against the fridge with a dreamy expression. Darry cleared his throat, jerking his head towards the dinner table. Ponyboy and Johnny were ready to burst from laughter. As soon as Sodapop’s eyes landed on you, he nearly fell over, his face turning a very cute shade of pink.

“You must be Sodapop.” You tried your best to hide the nervousness in your voice, not to mention the furious blush lighting up your face. You had never been called pretty before. Maybe he wasn’t talking about you. After all, he only saw you for a second.

“Yes ma’am.” He straightened himself out and smiled. Lord, that smile. “You-uh-you’re the girl I saw with Mrs. Austin.”

“What’re you calling her ‘ma’am’ for?” Johnny exclaimed. Ponyboy elbowed him in the side. “Ow! What? She’s just one of us!” You laughed at the two, but kept your eyes on Soda.

“That’s me alright. Beth’s my big sister. I’m gonna live with her now.” You said proudly.

“Where are your folks?” The youngest boy wondered.

“Ponyboy,” Darry scolded sharply. He knew that the story probably wasn’t a nice one. In this neighborhood, they never were. You didn’t seem upset by the younger boy’s question.

“They’re still in Chicago. Be glad you’ll never have to meet them.” You shrugged, your gaze returning to Sodapop. His blue eyes were bright with curiosity. He sat down across from you and Darry put down a plate of sandwiches.

It was the liveliest dinner you’d ever had. Darry and Ponyboy squabbled back and forth while Johnny scarfed down his sandwich.

“Whatcha reading?” Sodapop asked, eyeing the book you had set on the table.

“Oh, um, you’ll probably think it’s silly.” You quickly pulled the book into your lap. His lips fell into a pout.

“I promise I won’t.” His voice was so sweet that you knew he wasn’t going to make fun of you. You slid the worn down and well loved book across to him. “Peter Pan?” He read. “I remember that Disney movie when we were kids. Never thought about reading the book.”

“That’s cause you don’t read.” Ponyboy snickered. There was a thud and Ponyboy cried out, rubbing his now sore shin.

“Is it any good?” Soda asked.

“Oh it’s my favorite.” You beamed. “I guess the idea of flying away to a place where you never have to grow up was a nice thought when I was with my parents and all their yelling.”

You felt the tone of the table change. Ponyboy and Johnny looked at each other, Darry clasped his hands together on the table and Soda gave you a sympathetic smile. The grim shift made you think of home.

“Alright, enough with the long faces.” You exclaimed, leaning across to playfully shove Ponyboy’s shoulder. “That’s all over now.” You looked at each boy with the brightest smile they’d ever seen. Your gaze landed on Sodapop and his lips returned your grin. “This is Neverland.”

Smiles returned to the boys’ faces and Darry even chuckled. You and Soda just kept looking at each other.

“You clearly haven’t been in Tulsa long enough.” A new voice sneered. Everybody looked at the boy standing in the doorway. He had a hard stare and a mean look about him, but you didn’t let that scare you. You’d seen meaner.

“Anywhere is better than where I was before.” You replied calmly. The boy narrowed his eyes and looked you over.

“Is there something you need, Dally?” Darry asked sternly.

“Little bird told me there was a new girl in the neighborhood. Didn’t think she’d be slumming with us greasers already.” Dally kept his mean glare on you until Sodapop stood up.

“Come on, Y/N. Why don’t I walk you home?”

“Soda must think you need protecting.” He smirked. “I think you look like you can handle a guy like me.”

“Cut it out, Dallas.” Darry’s voice was a warning now.

“It’s alright. I should be getting back anyway to help Beth get the boys in bed.” You pushed away from the table, thanking Darry for dinner and saying goodnight to everyone. Lastly, you turned to Dally as you and Soda passed him. “It was nice meeting you, Dallas.”

You could feel his stare burning into the back of your head as you stepped out into the cool night air.

“Sorry about him.” Sodapop said, shoving his hands in the back pockets of his jeans as he walked. “Dally’s really not so bad. He’s just acting like that cause he don’t know you yet.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You shrugged. “I knew plenty of boys like that back in Chicago, only I didn’t have a tough guy like Darry or a sweet one like you to stand up to them, so Dallas is right.”

“About what?”

“I can handle guys like him.” You bumped his shoulder with yours and laughed. “I appreciate you walking with me, though. Beth would kill me if she thought I was out here by myself at night.”

“Has she always been protective like that?”

“I guess.” You thought for a moment. “When we were kids, she was always sticking up for me to our old man. She never let him lay a hand on me as long as she was around.” You found a pebble on the sidewalk and nudged it with your toe. “When she got pregnant, she didn't have a choice but leave. I think she just still sees me as that scrawny 10-year-old.”

You walked together in silence for a moment. You stopped suddenly, looking up at the sky. Stars stared back down at you with their bright faces. You liked to think they were smiling. Soda was a few steps away before he noticed that you had stopped.

“What’re you looking at?” He asked, walking back to join you. He tilted his head upward, trying to find whatever had caught your attention.

“The sky’s a lot prettier out here.” You mused. “In Chicago, it’s all lights and smog. But here, you can really see the stars.” That feeling of flying was back, taking you up into the air just like the book.

“You’re a different kinda girl, you know that?” Sodapop laughed. You spun around with your arms extended.

“You have to be different to survive, Sodapop Curtis.” When you looked at him, he could have sworn that your eyes twinkled like the stars.

I am a Lost Boy, from Neverland

Usually hanging out with Peter Pan

“They were not nearly so elegant as Peter, they could not help kicking a little, but their heads were bobbing against the ceiling and there is almost nothing so delicious as that.” You read in a clear voice so that all the boys could hear you. It was strangely nice out and the afternoon had turned into a kind of gathering at the park. You were sitting underneath the jungle gym with Johnny and Ponyboy sprawled out across from you. Sodapop and Steve had their knees hooked on the bars to see who could hang upside down the longest.

“Do you think this counts as flying?” Soda grinned down at you. Even upside down, it was the sweetest smile you’d ever seen.

“Only until you hit the ground.” Steve swung out his arm to try and knock him down, but Soda was quicker than that and Steve was the one that ended up in the dirt. Everybody laughed and Steve was only angry for a minute.

“Let her keep going.” Johnny whined. He seemed less skittish than he had last night. Ponyboy waited until Steve wasn’t looking to nod eagerly in agreement.

“Pony, don’t you have studying to do?” Soda climbed down and gave his brother a pleading look. It didn’t take long for Ponyboy to catch on. He made a face and got up, nudging Johnny to join him.

“Don’t be too late, Soda else Darry’ll take it out on me.” He grumbled, thanking you for the story before taking off back to the house. Steve also came up with an excuse to ditch, leaving just you and Sodapop, who tried to look surprised.

“Is this how you pick up all your girls? Cornering them in parks?” You scoffed, putting your book back in your bag. Man, his face turned red.

“I don’t know what- um- I’m not… no.” He stammered, kicking the toe of his boot into the dirt. You laughed.

“Relax, Soda, I’m just teasin’ you.” You shoved him playfully and slung your bag over your shoulder. The wind picked up a little and you shivered.

“Don’t you have a coat or something?” Soda asked, watching the goosebumps appear on your arms. You’d picked one of your short sleeve shirts since it was so nice, but now the weather seemed to remember what month it was. “Here.”

Soda wrapped an arm around your shoulders, rubbing your skin to help warm you up. His hands were softer than you thought they’d be with him working at the gas station and all. Being so close brought a pleasant pink color to your cheeks. Before you knew it, you were inching closer and closer until he kissed you.

His lips were gentle and soft and perfect. You both forgot to breathe for a while, but that didn’t bother you. When you did finally pull away, you both had the biggest grins on your faces.

“Maybe I should walk you home.” Soda said breathlessly. You nodded and, with a rush of courage you laced your fingers together as you walked.

By the time you got home, you felt like you were floating. It wasn’t the same as flying. This wasn’t rushed or heart-pounding. It was quieter and sweet. You couldn’t help but give him another kiss goodnight. When he was walking back to his house, he seemed to have a skip in his step.

You swung the front door open with a wide smile, giggling to yourself like a little kid. But that happy feeling washed away when you saw who Beth was sitting with.

“Daddy?”

Run, run Lost Boy, they say to me

Away from all of reality

You ran until your lungs felt like they’d burst. All you heard were three terrifying words and you got out of there as fast as you could “Takin’ you home.” You were home. That bastard wasn’t taking you anywhere.

You took the back way to the Curtis house, ducking your way through other people’s back yards so that your father wouldn’t be able to follow you. You were too afraid to go around front, so you found a low window and knocked on the glass.

“Darry!” You whisper-shouted. “Soda, Pony, is anybody in there? Sodapop?”

The curtains were pulled aside and an irritated looking Darry peaked out at you. He lifted up the window pane all the way so he could lean out and get a better look at you.

“The hell are you doing here, Y/N?” He asked. “Soda said he just dropped you off at home a few minutes ago.”

“I couldn’t go around front, Darry, he might see me.” You sniffed, wiping your nose on your sleeve. You must have been crying cause your face was all wet. “Could you help me in?”

He nodded and pulled you up by the arms. As you climbed in the window, Ponyboy appeared behind Darry with big eyes. You must have looked worse than you thought from climbing all those fences and cutting through yards.

“What happened to you?”

“Pony, go get her a glass of water. And where’s that other kid brother of mine?” Darry shouted before turning back to you. “Jeez, kiddo, you’re shaking like a leaf.”

“Yeah, Darry?” Soda popped his head into the room. His eyes went as wide as Pony’s had when he saw you. “Hey, Y/N, what’s the matter?” Darry grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward.

“Sodapop Patrick Curtis, if you hurt his girl, I’m gonna-”

“It wasn’t Soda.” You blurted. You crossed your arms over your chest and stared down at the floor. “It’s my dad. He’s come to take me back to Chicago.” You jerked your chin up, trying to look tougher than you felt. “But I’m not gonna let him.”

“I thought they let Beth bring you here.” Darry closed the window and grabbed you a blanket from the bed. It was then that you realized you must have climbed into Darry’s room. There was a pair of work boots on the floor and an old, beat-up football on the shelf.

“They did.” You glowered. Soda gently wrapped the blanket around your shoulders. “Guess they missed having something to scream at besides each other.”

“Well you can just stay here til he goes away, right Darry?” Soda said, not losing his sunny optimism for a second. Before Darry could respond, a series of loud bangs came from the front door.

“I know she’s in there you little punks!”

“Oh god, it’s him.” You hid yourself in Soda’s embrace and Darry went to answer the door.

“Come out now you-” Your father’s shouting stopped abruptly. Darry, though half his age, towered over him. He didn’t look so confident anymore. “Where’s my girl.”

You held Soda tighter. Your old man must have really hurt you because Soda knew you were one tough girl. You stood up to Dallas.

“You need to leave.” You could just see through to the living room since Darry’s bedroom door was slightly open. Darry was fully blocking your father’s view of the house.

“I’m not leaving without that little brat.” He snarled, his cockiness returning. “An’ if you don’t bring her out here, I’ll call the cops. That wouldn’t end too well for you, would it son?”

“I said leave.” Darry growled again, his muscles tensing. You knew what could happen if the cops came. So you broke away from Soda.

“I’m right here, so you can leave these boys alone.” You snapped, stepping out before Darry or Soda could grab you.

“Thought you could run around with these bums and I wouldn’t come for you?”

“How did you even know where to find me?”

“Those brats of Beth’s started hollarin’ as soon as I raised a hand at her.” He smiled cruelly.

If you hadn’t been standing there, Darry would have slugged him. You just wanted to get this over with.

“Are we going or not?” You frowned, defeated.

“Y/N, you can’t go with him!” Soda cried, trying to reach for you, but you jerked away. Tears pricked at your eyes again.

“I have to, Sodapop.”

“I don’t think so.” A new, hard voice joined the scene. You looked over your dad’s shoulder and saw the rest of the boys circling the house; Two-Big, Steve, Johnny, Ponyboy, and Dallas. Dally was the one talking. “You know something, fellas? I don’t like old me. And I really don’t like old, stinkin’ drunk men hanging around my neighborhood. Especially one that yells in my buddy’s face.”

“I ain’t afraid of a bunch of rats from Oklahoma.” Your father spat, but you could tell he was a little shaken. Dally pulled out a blade.

“How about a New York rat?” He hissed, getting real close to his face. Your dad’s eyes went wide, shifting from the blade to the circle of tough looking boys around him. Then he looked at you.

“You ain’t worth the trouble.” He decided, carefully moving around Dally and walking into the night.

The whole group gathered around, hollering and cheering over their success. Soda pulled you into a tight hug and kissed you right there in front of everybody. One of them, probably Two-Bit, whistled.

“Ponyboy, where the hell have you been?” Darry asked, ruffling his youngest brother’s hair. Pony just shrugged.

“I saw that mean old guy standing out here, so I ran and got Johnny and then we got everybody else.”

You pulled away from Soda and glanced around at the other boys.

“You all came here… for me?” You gasped, a different kind of tears now welling in your eyes.

“As soon as I heard Soda’s girl was in trouble, I got the hell over here.” Two-Bit said and Steve nodded in agreement. You felt your heart swell. Soda’s girl.

You looked at Dally. Without him, it might not have worked. He just shrugged coolly and lit a cigarette.

“I had nothin’ better to do.” But you could tell that, underneath, it was more than that. Johnny gave you a small smile.

“You’re one of us now.”

“And we stick together.” Ponyboy added. And they were right.

“Alright, I’d better call Beth and tell her everything is gonna be fine.” Darry announced. “You all get in here. I’m sure we’ve got more chocolate cake somewhere.” This was followed by more cheers and stampeding feet as the gang rushed inside.

Sodapop gave you the biggest, bright smile yet, taking your hand and following the boys to the kitchen.

Neverland is home, to Lost Boys like me

And Lost Boys like me are free.

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

#rob lowe #patrick swayze #the outsiders #80s imagines #sodapop curtis #sodapop curtis x reader #darry curtis #dally winston #Ponyboy Curtis #johnny cade #stay gold #peter pan #lost boy #neverland

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jodfics · 3 years

Text

Two Men and a Baby

Something silly.

Sam blew a sigh out from his mouth and looked at the man sat opposite him, "This is a mess, you know that, right?" Then, not waiting for a reply, he leaned over the small car seat they had strapped to the side of the carrier plane and frowned when the baby's eyes locked onto his. "Why you gotta look into my soul like that - check out Bucky, girls love ken dolls."

"How am I a ken doll?" Bucky's eyebrows furrowed even further, but he reached out to check the straps over the baby's chest for the nth time in the half an hour they'd been in the air. "If it's because of my arm - it's vibranium, not plastic."

"It's vibranium, blah blah'" Sam mimicked him childishly and sat on the left side of the car seat, "I can't believe this, man. I sent you in to disarm the bad guys, and you come out with a baby!"

Bucky scoffed and shook his head, "C'mon!" He nodded toward the baby, "You sayin' I shoulda left her there? All alone?"

"No, I am not saying that! I am saying, though, that you shouldn't have told the powers that be that we were gonna look after her for the next few days until they can find her parents - there's literally a service for that shit, Buck!"

The baby let out a whine at the same time Bucky sent a glare Sam's way, "Don't swear in fronta the baby... and don't call me 'Buck'. Stop being an asshole - you have nephews. A baby is a piece a cake."

Sam pressed his fingers to his temples and rubbed, Bucky was a constant headache at the best of times, but today he wanted to 'Sparta kick' him off the plane. "I'm not an ass, and for your information - ass is a bad word, don't swear in front of the baby." He waited for an argument, and when none came, Sam continued, "I didn't raise the boys, Sarah did all that, I just got to hold them and hand them back when they got damp. We should have agreed to take the baby to child services, and they would have found her parents - you," he pointed at the other, "You had to mouth off and tell them that we were taking her until further notice."

A squeal came from the tiny human and the start of what was likely going to be wailing; Bucky wasted no time in unstrapping her and holding her to him. She was around six months old with curly hair and a polka-dot dress - small enough to be utterly helpless but big enough that Bucky wasn't too worried about feeding her. Sam watched his 'not' co-worker make a fuss of her, asking her what was wrong in a quiet murmur and feigning shock when she squealed in reply. "Really? Oh, Doll, you are having a bad day, huh?"

"I didn't know you had a babysitting module installed - is that included in the Winter Soldier brainwashing, or is it an add on?" He couldn't help but find the interaction kind of sweet. Same knew how good Bucky was with kids, whether it was his nephews or the neighbour's kids or the kids back in Wakanda; Bucky was a soft touch when it came to them. "Why were you so adamant we take her?"

Bucky's nose scrunched a little when the baby reached out and pat his cheek before going for his nose; he was grateful she was more interested in him than crying. "I don't want her getting lost in child services, they're stretched thin since all the missing parents, and kids suddenly showed up after five years and the guys we saved her from obviously planned to ransom her or worse. So her parents will look for her, and when they do, we can hand her back nice and easy, no lost babies or weird foster parents."

"Dude... you're calling the pot black."

"I'm not a weird foster parent." His tone was even, and Sam blinked at how oblivious the other was. "Here, take her a second." Bucky handed her over, and Sam settled her on his lap whilst he watched him head toward his mission bag. "You got any food in your bag?"

"Not unless babies drink protein shakes," Sam looked down at her and made a curious expression, "Do you want muscles on your muscles? Yeah? You do...? Damn, you're gonna show Bucky up with your miniguns - pow, pow!" He shook her little arms gently and pretended to feel for biceps, "Oh, I think I found a muscle!" She giggled at Sam as he proceeded to poke and tickle her in search of a sixpack; out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bucky glared and snorted, "Uh oh, I think the bionic moron is jealous!"

"No, I'm not!" Came a reply too quick; even Bucky winced at it and cleared his throat to appear calmer, "Put her back in the car seat before you drop her."

"Ooooh, he's so jealous!" Sam pointed at the other, and her eyes followed his direction, but she was too young to understand that Bucky was pouting at them. "Give him the soul stare, Sweetie, see if you can beat him at his own game."

Bucky had moved to Delacroix a few weeks after taking out the flag smashers, and to his surprise, Sam had offered to let him move into a little place he had been checking out. It was a nice place with plenty of space for them to train or have the kids run around in - Sam liked that it had a good road into town and his sister's place. Bucky liked the trees that provided them cover and the view of the dock at sunset. There had been negotiations about the living spaces for both of them. Mostly it boiled down to Sam keeping his baseball trophies and wings out of the shared living area and Bucky agreeing not to turn it into a vintage bar or hide knives in all the crevices he could find.

Sam stood at the kitchen counter, baby on his hip, and checked how his homemade applesauce was doing. It had been his turn to check on her when she cried in the night and to take the 'morning shift' - not that he minded as he rocked her slightly and sang for her. He called for the volume to go up and brought the wooden spoon to his mouth like a microphone, "You ready, Sweetie? Nah, you're not ready for this - here we go! Yeah..." The man nodded his head and joined in on the following line of the song, "'And baby, I can't hold it much longer - It's getting stronger and stronger! When I get that feeling, I want -"

"I want an age-appropriate song!" Bucky interrupted and turned the station over.

"Oh no." Sam pointed the spoon at him, his brown eyes wide in outrage, "You did not just turn off Marvin Gaye." The baby pat his chin, and Sam smiled down at her softly to show he wasn't mad at her, "Don't you worry, I'm gonna wait for your naptime before I kick Uncle Bucky into next, next century." He looked back at the brunette who was slumped at the kitchen table and barely awake, "Why do you hate Marvin so much? Hmm? What did he do to you?"

Bucky sat up and tipped his head back to roll his eyes at the ceiling fan, "I don't -" he looked at Sam, "I don't hate Marvin Gaye. I just don't think that song is appropriate for a little girl, ya know?"

"Mm-hmm... But giving her a little whisky is alright?"

"It wasn't even a thimble full! My Pa used to sneak me more than that to help me sleep when I was a baby."

Sam turned off the cooker and put the pan aside to cool, "I'm pretty sure cocaine and cigarettes were on prescription back then. Besides, she's not yours for another couple of hours."

"I'm not gonna give her cocaine, Sam!" Bucky snapped, and then he lowered his tone, "Gotta start her on the small stuff and work up to cocaine."

"I am applying for full custody, Buck! You can pay child support all you want, but I'm not giving you visitation rights!"

"What," A woman's voice cut in, "Did I just step into."

"Sarah, hi!" The brunette's previous grumpy face brightened in a smile as he gave Sam's Sister a wave and ignored the other man glaring at him. He made to stand up, to be polite, but Sarah motioned for him to stay where he was - her smile matching Bucky's.

Sam adjusted the baby on his hip, "As much as I loathe watching you two make eyes at each other... Bucky, don't you have something else to stare at?"

"I got the best view right here - how's your morning, Sarah."

Watching his sister grin like an idiot and knowing her cheeks were red hot, Sam cleared his throat loudly, "You're setting a bad example for the baby. So what do we owe the pleasure, Sarah?" The girl in his arms made grabby hand at the woman, and Sam passed her over.

"Hey, Honey, are your Dads fighting again?" She was ignored in favour of her necklace, and after making sure it wasn't going to hurt the Baby, Sarah let her play. "The engine in the pickup is playing up, I need to head into town, but I don't trust the darn thing not to break down on me."

Before Bucky could even stand up to offer, Sam rushed in with, "I'll take you. I'm not leaving you two together without a chaperone."

"I can take a look at the engine later for you?" He may have been beaten to offering a lift, but Bucky knew more than one way to impress a woman. "Besides..." his blue eyes landed on the baby as she babbled and played with the necklace, "I need something to do after we drop her off with her parents later."

"Did they pass all your security checks?" Sarah asked, only half-serious as she had made fun of them the day before for insisting the people claiming to be the baby's parents were checked by every security firm they could name. "That's a shame... a baby really suits you, Bucky."

He parted his lips to reply, his ears turning a little red as he tried not to blush; whatever he was going to say was prevented by Sam nearly choking on air and sputtering that they had to go, "There's no such thing as on time, Sarah! Bucky, don't give the baby anything illegal!" He took the baby from his sister and deposited her in Bucky's lap before ushering the woman through the door.

"Bye, Sarah."

"Bye, Bucky~."

#Sam Wilson #Samuel Thomas Wilson #Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Barnes #Sarah Wilson #drug mentions #babies #fluff #original Post

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Note

i randomly remembered when enzo broke his arm around a year ago, i know it sounds mean but could you possibly do one of mac/maya doing the same (nothing major to cause it)

"It's okay." Amy hears herself repeat the phrase for probably the hundredth time now. "It's okay." It's probably supposed to calm them all down, all three adults and one little crying, screaming boy in the car, but it's barely working.

"It's not!" Jake hisses into her direction, the fear and panic and worry in his eyes more than obvious as he clutches Mac's head against his shoulder some more, tightens the grip around his back.

"It's gonna be, though." Rosa says from the driver's seat in front - she was clearly the calmest of all of them after what happened, so she'd grabbed Amy's purse, pulled their car keys out of it, and then pushed all three of them into the backseat before starting the car. And now she was making her way to the emergency wing of the hospital at about 15mp/h higher than allowed in the inner city. "The arm's broken, but not in a bad way. It's gonna heal."

"How can a bone break in a good way?" Asks the man who once stated that as long as his blood was still inside him, things were obviously good. Mac starts wailing a little louder in his arms.

"You're stressing him out." Rosa states, matter-of-fact, before slowing down just a little before a right turn so the kid in Jake's arms doesn't get jostled too much.

"It hurt." Mac sniffles and looks over at Amy with the reddest, most tear-filled eyes she's ever seen, and it takes a lot not to cry with him.

"It's gonna be okay, peanut. The doctors like uncle Jorge are going to fix it." She tries to calm him, and maybe Jake a little bit, who nods and scratches through Mac's hair like he does when he's trying to lull him into sleep.

-*-

They make it to the emergency room in record time, frankly, and if Rosa's rushed past some traffic lights and speed radars, Amy's not going to complain once the tickets come in the mail.

A bored-looking nurse informs them that there’s only enough space for one parent in the room during the x-ray and the cast and treatment, and Jake wants to debate for the first time in his life, because that’s obviously bullshit, but Amy puts a hand on his arm and then lifts Mac out of them.

“Sit with Rosa”, she says in that voice she’s started using after Mac, that mom-voice that’s always right, “Calm down, and we’ll be back before you know it. And it’s all going to be fine.”

She’s off with the crying toddler and nurse before Jake can really protest, and Rosa is already sitting in a corner of the waiting area, so he drops down next to her instead and buries his head in his hands.

“Dude, you’re blowing this out of proportion. Kids hurt themselves all the time. He’s gonna bounce back like always.”

“I broke his arm, Rosa.”

There’s a beat of silence between them as the weight of that statement settles. Rosa gives up her nonchalant pose to lean forward as well, trying to get into Jake’s field of vision, but it’s kinda hard when he’s staring down onto the floor.

“You did not.” She hisses. “Jake, you didn’t. He fell. He was climbing. It happens.”

“I helped him up on that tower, he’s too little for it-”

“It’s on the playground, he was gonna go for it eventually-”

“I was right next to him-”

“So were Amy and I-”

“You were talking-”

“So at least you were paying better attention-”

“I coulda grabbed him, I shoulda-”

“You did what you could, immediately and without question. It’s not your fault the kid drops faster than a cannonball.” Rosa ends their little squabble, and the old lady across them lets out a little harrumph, but Rosa shoots her the deadliest glare she can muster, which means a lot. “You were over there in a flash, Jake, I’ve never seen you move so fast.”

“Wasn’t fast enough. Wasn’t good enough.” He mumbles into his hands, rubbing across his face and his hair that’s already a mess. Rosa watches him for a moment, and calculates. Pieces together the evidence, like she does as a detective, and comes to a solution that most people probably won’t like, but those usually get her results.

“Do you want to leave?” She asks, and he looks at her like she’s grown a second head. “Amy’s got it under control, she told you. It’s probably gonna take a while, anyway, we can dip out for a drink to calm down and come back and they’ll be none the wiser.”

“Are you insane?!” Jake hisses back now, giving her exactly the reaction she’d expected. “I’m not going to leave my son in the hospital to go to a bar-”

He stops and stares at her, and it seems like his own detective brain is finally catching up with his panicked dad brain, because he sees what she’s doing. So she nods.

“You’re still good. You’re still better.” She says, and they don’t need to mention who he’s better than. It was the first of his stories that he told her, after he hurt something in his wrist at the academy - how that wrist never really healed right anyway, not since he was 5 and Bobby Linder drove over it with his tricycle by accident and his mom had to rush him to the hospital and his dad asked ‘what is that?’ with beer on his breath when he showed him the cast later. They’d known each other for barely a month back then, and Rosa was still refusing to think of anyone as her friend, but the way he’d looked at his wrist in its bandage and smiled the most broken smile she’d ever seen had set something off in her head. Something that yelled Protect at her every time he mentioned his dad later, something that made her threaten Roger Peralta with one of her knives after their graduation when Jake was in the bathroom ‘real quick’, but she knew he was hiding in there so no one could see his hands shake. Good thing Rosa never gave a damn about going into the men’s toilets anyway, because she sure as hell went after him when Roger had dipped out as usual.

She watches Jake’s tense shoulders drop with another sigh.

“Being better doesn’t make me good. That bar is set so fucking low.”

“I’m not having this entire discussion with you again, Peralta. We’ve been through this way too many times anyway. You. are. a. good. dad. One accident doesn’t change that.”

“Okay.” He nods, and she can tell he’s trying to imprint her words into his brain, so she continues.

“Mac’s going to hurt himself, and others are going to hurt him, and things are gonna go bad sometimes. You’ll probably be back here in the hospital a few times, considering how much he seems to love danger. And it’s going to be okay, just like Amy said, because you’re going to be there, and you’ll help him through it, and take care of him while he heals.”

“Yeah.” He nods again, and Rosa leans closer to him some more, and finally gets into his field of vision.

“And you’re not going to even think, for one second, that you could be anywhere as bad of a father as that piece of shit. And you’re not going to believe, whatever anyone says, that Mac doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you as a dad.”

He nods a third time, and she remembers how he jokingly told her once, after a few drinks, that the little screaming voice of conscience in his head always alternates between either Amy’s voice or her voice. She hopes she’s given him some new tracks to replay if he needs to.

“Thank you, Rosa.” He says, and leans back in the most uncomfortable chair either of them have sat in, and they’ve both been to prison. He tilts over when she leans back too, lands his head on her shoulder, and she doesn’t shrug him off for once. She can have a soft spot for the Santiago-Peraltas when no one else is there to see, she supposes.

“You looked like you wanted to punch out that nurse.” She says with a quick grin, and hears him snort.

“Was thinking about it. Not enough space for two parents, what kind of bullshit is that?!”

“You couldn’t throw a proper punch anyway.”

“Hey, I know how to hit people. I trained to do it just as much as you.”

They share a giggle as the exhaustion and stress of the last hour flows out of them, and the old lady across them seems mildly shocked rather than annoyed by now, but who cares.

-*-

Amy comes back with Mac in her arms an hour later, and they’re both all smiles. Mac sports an impressive new sticker collection on his shirt, and a lollipop that’s painting his lips orange. (Amy’s have a slight tint to them as well.)

The cast on his arm is bright green, and he carefully lifts it to show Jake as he switches from his Mama’s arms into his. (Jake had jumped up from his chair so fast he almost threw Rosa, who was also getting up, to the ground.)

“Like ninja!” he says around the lollipop, and Amy wipes a bit of spit away before it can drop on Jake’s shirt.

“Yeah, just like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, buddy.” Jake nods because of course he understands his kid’s train of thought better than anyone else, and kisses Mac’s temple, stays there a second longer for that perfect toddler scent, even as it’s mixed with hospital disinfectant and playground mud.

“Look, RoRo!” Mac yells into his ear and leans over to show Rosa as well. “Turtle shell!”

“That’s pretty cool, dude.” Aunt RoRo answers as she inspects the cast to see if it’s well done or if she has to go back there and punch out a nurse herself. “Let’s get you three home.” She says after concluding that the cast is acceptable enough to let the poor hospital workers alone.

-*-

She was planning to drop them off, park their car and then head for the precinct where her bike is waiting for her, but Amy invited her up for some coffee for ‘her nerves’, and Jake offered dinner as a thanks, and Mac absolutely needed to show her the new toy he got in that package from abuela, and then suddenly she’s on a playmat on the floor for an hour after Chinese takeout and pretending to be a Ninja Tortoise or whatever. That soft spot is gonna be more trouble than it’s worth, she thinks for a second before Mac smiles at her as his Jedi figure shoots lasers at her turtle doll, and immediately realises it’s worth so much more than any trouble. Mac looks at his cast a little worried, whenever he thinks no one is watching him, and god, could he be any more like his dad? At least she and Amy already have a good instructions booklet on how to handle him, in that case.

“That green cast is pretty cool.” She says when she catches him look once more. “But you know what would make it even cooler? Drawings.”

“Drawies? On my arm?”

“Yeah, buddy. We can draw on it with a sharpie.”

He’s up and running to Amy, asking for a sharpie, in no time at all and yep, he is just as easily distracted as his dad. Mac grins wide and unworried now as he climbs on Jake’s lap on the couch, asks Amy to draw something when she returns with a set of markers, calls Rosa over to draw something too.

Amy does a little bear, his favourite animal at the moment. Rosa does a rocket ship and a pirate ship, the two best ships in the world, as they both agree. Jake does a Ninja Turtle cartoon face yelling PIZZA!, which is obviously Mac’s absolute favourite the moment it’s done.

When Jake wants to cap the Sharpie after his work of art, Mac grabs his hand and pulls it back down. “Steady, peanut. Don’t wanna scribble over Aunt RoRo’s cool ship, right?” He says with a grin over to her as she rolls her eyes. Mac’s already tried to cover several walls, most of his storytime books, and the kitchen table with his drawings as soon as he’s handed any sort of writing tool, so Jake won’t let go of the marker just to be safe, but he does let Mac’s little hand guide his big one as he makes him draw a wonky heart, right on the cast over the back of his hand, and then places a kiss on the same place on Jake’s hand.

You’re not going to believe, whatever anyone says, that Mac doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you as a dad the little Rosa voice in Jake’s head repeats as he smiles at her, and she actually smiles back.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #mac peralta #auntie roro #rosa diaz #my writing #ficlet

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

I've been thinking a lot about the Sheriff role, and mainly, about what actually happens when the Sheriff picks the wrong person and dies. I imagine the game code just kills them with a heart attack or something...but I'm thinking less about the game mechanics right now and more about what it would be like for the person who the sheriff tried to kill. Just, one of the Hermits having somebody they know has been following them around and mistrusting them, only to watch that person drop with seemingly no warning or reason... The Sheriff dying in the crewmate's arms as they try to save them, or maybe just try frantically to think of some way they won't be blamed for the death...long story short, I'm in the mood for some angst with a wrongful Sheriff kill attempt, if you happen to find that inspiring.

soooo i wrote the thing and only then reread your request and saw the word “hermit”... whoops… i’ve used the friday night crew, hope that’s okay lol

honestly i’ve started defaulting to the friday night crew, especially when it’s not specified which crew is wanted :)

…

At the end of the first meeting, Brody heads over to communications to do his download. As he does, he quickly realises someone is behind him. “You appear to be following me.”

“Uh huh,” says Joker, watching Brody with the expectant expression of a child who wants to ask their parent for something. “You appear to be doing the download.”

“I AM doing the download,” Brody responds.

“Uh huh. Are you faking it?”

“...if I was, do you really think I’d say yes right there?”

“I dunno.”

Brody finishes his download and goes up to admin to upload. Joker follows him, causing his friend to shoot him a scowl. “Maybe you should spend less time bothering me and more time doing your own tasks.”

“I think you’re the imposter,” Joker states. “I want you to kill in front of me so I can get you kicked off.”

“What’s stopping me from just killing you right here in front of no witnesses?” asks Brody casually.

Joker stares at him for a moment. “Gonna be honest, I did not think of that.”

Brody snorts. “I thought not. Lucky for you, I can’t kill you this round. Get outta here and do your tasks.”

Joker moves away from Brody and watches him stand at the panel, apparently uploading. He shifts from foot to foot, before pulling out his gun and aiming it directly at Brody. Despite his flippant attitude to the whole situation, he genuinely believes Brody is not a crewmate.

So he pulls the trigger.

And immediately lets out a scream.

Brody whirls round, startled, to find Joker collapsing, the gun clattering to the ground. Reacting fast, he catches his friend and carefully lowers him down, trying not to panic. “Nonononononono! Joker, stay with me! Stay with me, buddy!”

He feels Joker’s wrist for a pulse. He finds one but it’s weak, and getting weaker by the second.

“Stay awake, Joker!” Brody hurriedly taps Joker’s face. “HEY! Stay with me! C’mon, please…!”

But within a second or two, the light in Joker’s eyes fades and his weakly moving chest settles.

Brody hangs his head, hugging his friend’s body close to him. ��Damnit, Joker,” he whispers. “Why…?”

He’s so distracted that he doesn’t notice the arrival of two more people until one of them reports the body and everyone is teleported to the meeting table.

“Brody just killed Joker,” says Endless immediately. “We saw it.”

Skizz glares at him. “No we didn’t! He was next to the body when we got there but we didn’t see him do it! We didn’t even see the body flop. It coulda been a swooper, lover kill, anything.”

“Okay, but you get how bad it looks that he was sitting next to the body, not reporting it, right?”

“He was cradling Joker in his arms! Have some compassion, man!”

Brody stays silent and lets them argue. There’s no point in trying to interrupt while someone is fighting his corner for him. Plus, he’s still semi-stunned from what just happened.

Finally, Etho speaks up: “Guys, guys, guys. Shh for a second. I wanna hear what happened from Brody.”

Everyone turns expectantly to him.

“Joker tried to sheriff me,” Brody says quietly.

“Why are you so sure?” asks Etho. “Are you saying there’s no way it could’ve been a swooper or lover kill?”

“I’m certain. Swooper kills and lover kills leave behind wounds; failed sheriff kills don’t. There was no blood, no wound on Joker’s body, nothing.”

“I can confirm there was no blood,” Skizz says. “Endless?”

Endless nods reluctantly. “I mean… I didn’t see any. But I still think it’s incredibly sus that Brody didn’t report it.”

“I was in shock,” says Brody truthfully. “Given a few more seconds, I probably would’ve reported. But I was just too shocked.”

He stares down at the table, Joker’s cry of pain echoing in his ears. He’s said his piece. It’s up to Etho now. Etho has so much pull; if Etho is unconvinced, Brody will be voted out.

“C’mon, you? Shocked?” Endless is clearly completely unconvinced. “You’ve played enough of this game that seeing someone die shouldn’t really faze you.”

Brody fixes him with a cold look. “He died in my arms. I literally saw the light leave his eyes. Tell me that wouldn’t affect you too.”

Endless simply meets his gaze and doesn’t respond.

Finally, Etho says, “I believe Brody here. Endless, why were you so determined to say he did it?”

“Because it really did look like he did it. Sorry if he didn’t.”

To Brody’s relief, he’s not voted off. He leaves the meeting table with everyone else and heads back down to admin to finish his upload. After he’s done this, he realises he forgot to swipe his card, so he goes to do this now.

But as he gets out his card, a shadow falls over the table. He looks up and his heart skips a beat as he registers the figure standing there, aiming a gun at him.

“Sorry, Brody, but since you’re clear, you’re of no use to me,” says Endless emotionlessly.

Before Brody can even open his mouth, there’s a loud BANG and his vision immediately goes black.

“-ake up, dude! Brody!”

Brody forces his eyes open and finds Joker’s face peering down at him. Blinking, he sits up. “Joker? Oh great. I’m dead, right?”

Joker slowly nods. “Yep. Endless got you.”

“I shoulda known it was him from the way he was SO eager to push your death on me.”

“Yeah, about that…” Joker rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, dude. I tend to not trust anyone in this game so I took a shot and… yeah. Turns out I didn’t just kill myself, I ended up traumatising you.”

Brody gives a chuckle. “It’s okay. I’ve just never had a sheriff fail to kill me before. It kinda shocked me.”

“I don’t blame you. I guess I’d better be more careful about who I go after next time, huh?”

Brody raises an eyebrow. “You? Careful?”

“I know, I know,” Joker snickers. “I’m probably gonna forget about this in, like, three rounds, tops.”

“I think you’re vastly overestimating your attention span and level of dumbassery.”

“Shut up.”

#friday night stabby #misterjoker #brodyman #etho #theendless #vaunna’s requests

31 notes · View notes

suchalonelysunflower · 4 years

Text

You Broke Me First (C.H)

Pairing: former FWB!Calum X Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: Based on the song “You Broke Me First” by Tate McRae. You are trying to forget about the man who broke your heart, so it’s a surprise when his name appears on your phone again.

Warnings: Angst af. Language. Mild Smut. Mentions of Alcohol and cheating. Probably one or two grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word count: 5K

Author’s Note: Requested by the lovely @thebasicbitch-things ✨ I loved writing this piece, maybe because I love the song so much, so thank you for requesting it and I hope I made it justice 💕. Feedback, reblogs and comments are always welcome and appreciated it! You can read my other works HERE. Happy reading! 🦋

@thebasicbitch-things : Can you write a Calum imagine based off the song You Broke me first by Tate McRae?? Like I’m just in a weeping mood. Thank you xxx

Maybe you don't like talking too much about yourself

But you shoulda told me that you were thinkin' 'bout someone else

You're drunk at a party or maybe it's just that your car broke down

Your phone's been off for a couple months, so you're calling me now

The liquid burns your throat, but you don’t really feel it anymore. When the heat starts spreading around the rest of your body is when you know you need another one. And another one. And another one. Anything to keep him from your mind.

It’s ironic how the memory of him still lingers on, even more with every drink you drown. Well, it’s not so ironic as it is shitty. But it’s at times like this, when you’re at a random club in the middle of the night surrounded by strangers trying to create stories of their own while all you want to do is forget, that the only thing your mind can focus on is him.

A year ago:

“Babe?” You heard his voice as he exited the bathroom. Still shirtless and with his boxers on, hanging loosely “Are you okay?”

You sat down on the bed, your naked skin barely covered by the messy sheets “Mhmm” you mumbled, still zooned out in your own thoughts and worries as you saw Calum grab his shirt and jeans from the floor.

It was always the same. He would call or text, you would meet with any excuse, hang out for a while before moving to the bedroom. The same old story of friends who fuck each other, with the same old ending every night: you in your bed watching him get dressed and close the door on his way out.

“Do you really have to leave?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“I have to”

“No, you don’t have to”

“Y/N…”

You hated that condescending tone. Not only that, but you hated yourself, too. You and this whole messy situation you got yourself into. You didn’t know how bad of an idea it was to accept his proposal of friends with benefits when you already had feelings for him. But who could say no to Calum Hood? Especially with the hopes of becoming something more along the way.

At the beginning it was all you could dream of. The night seemed endless when he hold you close to him, breathing the same air as your bodies collided with each other, creating messes as you explored every inch of skin you had to offer, seeing stars explode with every right touch, hearing each other’s names like prayers coming from your parting lips. It was almost like you couldn’t get enough, almost.

“What? God, Calum, would it kill you to stay the night just once? Would it ruin your reputation of a heartthrob batchellor?”

“What has gotten into you?” He asked in confusion at your sudden outburst “You know the rules of this”

“Oh, the rules. Fuck them”

The rules were simple: Never overstaying, no exclusivity, don’t let others find out, never do anything public… but most importantly: Never fall in love. You had agree to that once, but most certainly broken almost every rule. You’ve fallen in love with him.

“Y/N…”

“It hurts, Calum” You said with glossy eyes “It hurts when you leave, and I- I can’t watch you do that anymore”

Calum’s eyes soften a bit. Debating whether or not he should stay. But after a pleading “Please” from your lips he caved in, laying down on the bed next to you, pulling you closer to him.

You smiled, allowing yourself to drift away in dreams and hopes of him laying next to you for the rest of your lives. Little did you know that those dreams were to be crushed next morning when you find an empty bed and a note with a little ‘sorry’ scribbled on it.

That was the first nights of many where he would lay down with you. Sometimes he would stay till morning and share a cup of coffee with you at breakfast. Other times he would disappear as a ghost in the middle of the night, only leaving the marks on your body as proof of his presence. It hurted, but at least you didn’t watch him walk away. You never watched as he did.

Took a while, was in denial when I first heard

That you moved on quicker than I could've ever, you know that hurt

Swear for a while I would stare at my phone just to see your name

But now that it's there, I don't really know what to say

You feel your friend’s grasp on your arm as they drag you down to the dance floor. Pulling you away from your own pity party as you watch how they sway to the beat of a song you’ve never heard of, soon joining them with the alcohol in your veins rushing towards your brain and taking control of your every move. ‘Tonight is not about Calum’ you tell yourself as you let the music take you away, already feeling the effects of the one too many shots you did earlier. But some things are easier said than done.

It’s funny, how after so many months of not seeing each other you can still feel him in your skin. You memorized the way his hands wrapped around your waist and the smell of his cologne. You could still feel his breath on your neck, the burning kisses he used to leave and the whispers that got lost inside a dream. Even now that you are dancing along to an ear shattering beat, the rhythm of your heart still beats and longs for him.

You can feel yourself in the dire need of another drink, desperate to push those memories away and cleanse yourself from his touch once and for all. You don’t care how many nights it would take, how many people or how many hangovers. You are determined to get that boy out of your system, where he won’t hurt you anymore.

“Y/N!” Your friend yells over the music, gesturing towards your hand “Your phone is glowing!”

You bring your phone to your face, trying to focus on the image that’s plastered across the screen. A name pops up, a name you haven’t seen in so long.

Muttering an “Oh fuck” you press ‘decline’ over and over again, until Calum stopped calling.

Seven months ago:

It’s been two weeks since you last heard from him. It’s been two weeks since he left you alone in a fuzz. It’s been two weeks since he slammed the door and he still hasn’t called.

Maybe he was right and you fucked everything up. But you were sure of your words, you know there’s truth to them, so you stan by them. He will soon realize his mistake, he has to. He wouldn’t leave you like that, would he? He must know he hurt you, he must. The words he said… they are like tattoos on your mind, they don’t seem to fade with time. But you knew it wasn’t entirely your fault. You were as guilty as he was.

For the past two weeks you’ve been glued to your screen, hoping for his name to appear. Taping your screen randomly to see if you’ve gotten a text or a call or a dm or even a fucking email. But nothing ever came.

It wasn’t until you were scrolling down Twitter that you saw it.

It was a paparazzi photo, he was wearing a classic tee and the sweatpants you once told him were your favorite on him. His hair was longer, or at least it seemed like it, his eyes avoiding the cameras as he walked through the busy streets of LA as he normally would. The only difference is the hand that was holding his.

A lump formed in your throat as you opened the tweet to find a thread of even more pictures of him with the mysterious person, grabbing them by the waist and smiling as they came closer. The paparazzi seemed to catch every single intimate moment he was able to show in public, much more than he ever showed you when you were both out and sober, at least. But Calum seemed happy, and that hurt you the most.

A thousand questions ran through your head as you ignored the happy tweets from fans celebrating that his favorite band member finally got a significant other. How long has this been going on? Did he ever tell you about it? You never claim exclusivity, so it could’ve had happen when you were still ‘together’, meaning he choose them. He left you and chose them, replacing you and everything you didn’t get to have without even saying goodbye.

Swallowing the bitterness of the memory with a shot of tequila, you press decline once again and order another drink. What would you say to him anyway? Would you curse him? Would you kiss him? Would he even apologize or pretend that it never happened? The truth is, you don’t even want to know.

You catch some flirty eyes from across the bar, but you ignore them as you try to collect your thoughts on this whole situation, and besides, don’t need another heartbreak at the moment.

“That guy hasn’t taken his eyes off you since he came in” Said the bartender, pouring you another drink.

You lift your gaze towards ’pretty eyes’ over the bar, but he already seemed to have lost interest in you as his eyes scattered all over the room, looking for another person to spend his time with.

“Doesn’t seem like it” You nod toward the other end of the bar.

“What? No, not him. Him!”

They point behind you and you turn around quickly, a pretty bad idea considering how drunk you are at the moment. But wasted or not, you would recognize those eyes anywhere.

Calum is standing in the middle of a sea of people, but his eyes are solemnly focusing on you as he raises his phone to his ear, raising his eyebrows as he hears the dial tone. Almost immediately, your phone starts ringing next to you with the all too familiar name popping out again.

Without breaking eye contact, you press decline once again, standing up quickly as you start to walk up to the nearest exit, trying to get away from him as fast as you could. ‘Tonight is not about Calum’ you told yourself earlier that night, and yet there he was, pushing his way through a drunk crowd to get towards you.

“Y/N!” You hear him call, but you are not stopping. You don’t need this confrontation right now. You don’t want to see him or talk to him. You want to forget him and everything you ever did.

Feeling like your chest is going to explode at any second, you accelerated your pace, not caring how many people you have to push to get to the door as long as he doesn’t find you. Your legs, however, had other plans as they give out due to the mix dizziness and adrenaline you were feeling, just mere meters from the exit. You curse your past self for having so many drinks as you try to get up. But, soon enough, you feel an arm rounding around your waist and pulling you to your feet.

After almost eight months you find yourself reflected in those eyes again. The same eyes that made you feel butterflies in your stomach everytime he looked your way. You couldn’t help but get drawn into them, remembering that the last time you saw them they replaced the desire with anger, shaking you to your core.

He was saying something, you were sure of it because his mouth is moving “What?!”

“I said, Why aren’t you answering your phone?!” He yelled over the music. Your drunk mind can’t decide if you want to slap him or kiss him or cry right there on the spot.

“That’s none of your business! Now please let go of me, I want to go home”

You push yourself away from his grasp “Y/N, please I need to ta-“ He interrupted himself as he watched you almost trip over your own feet again, clearly too drunk to stand straight. In a matter of seconds, he was by your side again, this time pulling your arm over his shoulders so you could lay on him “Wha- How many drinks did you have?”

“As many as I needed” You scoffed, trying to pull away, but his grip on your waist was stronger.

“For what?! Drown yourself?”

“I needed to forget you” Calum clenches his jaw, feeling like his heart was shattered into a million pieces “But that’s clearly not working, given that you are here. Would you please let me go?”

“Y/N you are too drunk to function,”

“Am not!”

“Please, let me take you home. I need to talk to you”

“Leave me alone, Calum. I don’t need you and I most definitely don’t want to talk to you”

You turn your face to him. It has been a long time since you last saw him. He has more curls now, and a little five o’clock shadow, but his yes,,, oh, his eyes. The time stops, or at least it feels like it, it was almost like the first time you saw them, magnetic and filled with something you couldn’t decipher, but now they had something different. They were hurting, pleading, almost begging you for something you didn’t quite understand at the moment, but you know you couldn’t say no to those eyes, at least not here and not in your condition.

So after making sure you could stand properly, you caved “Fine”

I know you, you're like this

When shit don't go your way you needed me to fix it

And like me, I did

But I ran out of every reason

The car ride was as silent as a tomb. The sounds of the city night and the flashing of streetlights were your only source of distraction. You looked through the window, not wanting to make any eye contact with the man that broke your heart. He, however, was anxious for you to spare a glance towards him. Calum’s fingers taped the steering wheel nervously, he wanted to fill the silence with something, anything. But his words came short as he realized that you weren’t the person he knew, you were a stranger sitting in his car. The clothes you were wearing, the state of drunkenness you were in, the anger behind your eyes and words, and the fact that you couldn’t even stan him touching you… that was not the Y/N he knew.

Once you reached the house, you didn’t even wait for him to turn the car off as you practically jumped out of the seat and went to open the door. Calum quickly following you, half of him afraid that you might hurt yourself, the other half afraid that you would lock him out.

He let out a breath of relief as you let him in. Remembering the last time he was here.

Seven and a half months ago:

It was a normal afternoon for the two of you. Things were going well, Calum started to be more open towards you, spending the night, cuddling and hanging out more without the promise of sleeping together afterwards and you loved it. You were having fun as well, you would walk Duke together or cook dinner or just exist together by watching a movie or listening to his favorite songs that you “absolutely needed to hear” And today was no different as you cuddled with him watching one of Netflix’s crappy teenage movies. Things were going well, or so you thought.

You were straddling him, lips melting together as the movie was long forgotten. His hands were cupping your ass, setting a slow pace with your hips as you grinded on him. You whole body was on fire, ready to burst when his lips made their way down your neck, leaving marks that you would later trace with your fingers as you try to hide them.

“Calum,” You moaned softly as he found your sweet spot under your ear, sucking and biting it like only he knew how. Your hands flew to the back of his head, fingers lost in his hair, tugging it lightly every time he met your hips with a dry thrust.

He groaned, drunk to sounds you were making. He loved the effect he had on you, almost as much as the effect you had on him. It was addictive, dangerous. He knows he shouldn’t play with fire, but what a lovely way to burn it was.

You moaned again when you felt his teeth grazing your jaw, finding their way to your lips again. The rolling of your hips was faster, more desperate than before, the friction was almost unbearable. You needed him with a passion “C-Calum…”

“Tell me what you want, baby” He said with a raspy voice, breathing onto your neck “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you”

You shuddered at his words, getting dizzy with his touch, his soft groans and his eyes filled with lust, looking straight into your soul, burning like the sun.

You grabbed his head by the sides, pulling him closer until your foreheads pressed together “You” you whispered loud enough for him to hear “I want all of you, Calum”

A couple of hours passed and you were still laying on the sofa, cuddled against the naked chest of the bassist. His fingers were caressing your sides as both of your breathings became even, coming out of your highs.

You felt infinite in his arms, safe and wanted. You wanted this to last forever, to have him only for yourself and be his everything. You craved for more intimate looks, for innocent touches while in public, you wanted to show the world how in love you were with this man that has, not only conquered your heart, but also your soul. You loved him, and you hope with your whole heart that he loves you too.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, drawing circles down your arm.

You debated on whether to tell him the truth or not. You knew Calum had always denied himself the possibility of love, stating time and again that he doesn’t really believe in it. But you’ve seen a change in him for the last few months you were together. He was more caring, more attentive, staying longer than he should and being there for you when you needed, not only for a quick fuck anymore. Maybe the chances of him loving you back were not as low as you thought.

“I meant what I said earlier, you know?” You ventured, lifting your gaze to meet his. He gave you a quizzical look, not really sure of what you were referring to “I do want all of you, Calum”

He smiled “You have me now”

“Yeah,,, but that’s not what I meant”

Taking a brave step, you pushed yourself forward and kissed him. You were done hiding the feelings you’ve been accumulating over the years, ready to let yourself go and drown on him. Only him.

Calum, however, was taken by surprise. Pulling himself from you.

“I thought we agree on not to catch feelings for each other” He said coldly. Already sitting up and looking across the room for his clothes.

You sat and watched as he got up from his spot on the couch and started to dress as fast as he could.

“Cal-“

“We agreed, Y/N. We said no string attached. Goddammit, everything was going so well, but you had to fuck it up, didn’t you?”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. Shattering you completely from the inside. You tried to collect your thoughts as the tears threatened to come out, but Calum kept going.

“What the hell were you thinking? What were you expecting? Huh?”

“It’s not my fault that I love you” Your voice sounded broken, weak, and you hated that. How could he be so angry? What gave him the right when you were the one who was hurting?

“Well, it’s not mine either! Is it?” Calum said with exasperation, putting on his shirt.

“I thought-“

“What? That I loved you? Y/N, I don’t love anyone! You knew that when we started this!”

“And what am I to you then?!” You matched his tone of voice, tears were already spilling down your face but you didn’t care. You were fuming “What am I, Calum? A friend? A good fuck? Huh? Was I just a toy that you could play with every time you felt needy? Have you ever thought of me as something more?”

Calum’s stare was cold as ice. He was standing in the middle of the living room, clenching his fists to either side of his body until his knuckles became white. You, on the other hand, were sitting on the couch, crying. But your eyes burned with anger as you saw how carelessly he was invalidating your feelings, throwing everything away just because he couldn’t admit his own. A silent war was being fought between the two of you, both of you so scared but with nothing left to lose.

It seemed like ages had passed before Calum spoke again, grabbing his jacket and heading towards the door.

“Was there ever something more?”

You kept staring at the nothing he left behind, the last thing you heard was the slamming of your front door, leaving you alone and completely heartbroken.

Calum followed you into the kitchen, completely avoiding the living room where he last saw you, where he left you. He felt weirdly unwelcomed as you poured yourself a glass of water without even offering one to him, maybe he was.

You drink your water slowly, thinking that that will give you time to think on what to say to him. Maybe he would start talking soon, but the only thing he does is stare at you from the other side of the kitchen island. “How did you know where I was?” You asked.

“Your friend’s stories. You may have blocked me from yours, but they haven’t”

Then, silence came over you again. It was almost like he was waiting for you to say something, just like you always did. You played this game before, you are not going to cave. You are not going to give him the satisfaction of controlling the situation here.

“I need to talk to you” He finally said, letting his shoulders relax for a bit.

“You keep saying that. But you sure haven’t done a lot of talking”

The tension in the room was so thick that it could easily be cut by a knife. You always wondered what you would say to him, what would you feel the next time you saw him and, right now, you felt like there was nothing more to say. He had no right appearing into your life again, not when you were picking yourself together after he shattered you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry”

“For what, exactly?” The venom in your voice was palpable, Calum knew this was not going to be easy for him “For leaving me here alone and then got yourself another person to play the ‘couple’ part? For practically calling me a whore? Or for giving me shit because of what I felt for you, knowing damn well you felt the same?”

You tilted your head, waiting for his answer, but it seems you left him speechless. Good.

Calum ran his hand through his curls, staring at the floor then back at you “I fucked up”

“That much is true”

“I’m serious, Y/N” He started walking towards you “I’m sorry for everything, you are right. You always are. I just- I didn’t know what to do! I panicked and-“

“And that’s your excuse of why you ran away instead of facing the problem?”

“I was scared! Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” Calum raised his voice. He was now standing a couple of feet in front of you, so close and yet so far away from you “Y/N, I was so fucking scared. You know that I’ve never had a committed relationship before, that I never let things get too far but with you.. God, I never felt the same with anyone like that before not after you. And then you said all of those things and I- Hearing you say that you love me was too much, I couldn’t process it and instead of saying something coherent I just lashed out on you and you didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry”

Calum took a step forward, softly grabbing your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. He took your silence as his cue to continue.

“You were always there for me, every time I needed you were there. No questions asked, no judging, not waiting for something in return. Always making me laugh, supporting me and letting me take a break from the messy life I have. You were the best thing in my life and I took you for granted. I hate that it has taken me this long to realize that, but I just miss you, Y/N. I miss us, so much that you can’t imagine how much it hurts. I need you with me, please let’s just go back to where we started. Or we can start over, whatever you want! But, please, baby, please don’t leave me”

And just before you know it, Calum cupped your cheek with his free hand and brought your face closer to him, crashing his lips into yours. You responded almost immediately by parting your lips and granting him more access, getting completely lost inside the kiss.

For a moment it felt like the old times, he tastes just like you remember and his touch stills makes your skin erupt with goosebumps. For years you’ve been waiting for this, for him to feel the same about you and love you without any fears or doubts, claiming that he was yours and you were his. You wanted this for so long… but why does it feel so bad?

Gathering all the courage you could manage, you push Calum away from you.

“S-stop!” You said, trembling “Stop, this isn’t right”

He gave you a confused look as he took a step back “Y/N-“

“What about your partner? Calum, did you at least break up with them before you came to find me?” The way he looked at the floor gave you all the answers you needed. You raised your hand to your forehead, suppressing the urge to cry or laugh at his antics “Oh my God”

“I was going to! I swear I just-“ He failed to find an excuse “Things were doing awful between us lately, Y/N. You have to understand, I-“

“What?!” You spat “that you had to make sure I was on board with all of this?! I am not a consolation prize, Calum. I am not a second choice!”

“Baby, I know. I-“

“Don’t call me that!”

Calum took another step back, he has never seen you so angry before.

“How dare you? How. Dare. You, Calum. Coming here after eight months! saying all that shit about how much I mean to you when it’s just bullshit”

“Y/N, it’s not-“

“I’m not fucking finish” You say raising a hand to silence him “Could you tell me, where'd you get the nerve? I don’t get a single text or call or fucking smoke signal from you for eight months, knowing how I felt about you, and now suddenly you're asking for it back? Saying that you miss all that we had? We had nothing, Calum. We were nothing more than just a fuck around, you said it yourself, didn’t you? There was no ‘us’ for you to miss. You made damn sure of that. You don’t miss me, not really. You miss how I made you feel. How easy it was for me to be there for you every time you called, well, I’m tired of fixing all your problems, I ran out of every reason to do it.

And I was so stupid, you know? For believing just for a second that this could actually mean something when it never meant something to you in the first place! Did you even think about how I would feel about all of this? Of course not! Why would you? After all, I’m just Y/N! The one who always gets stepped on, why should my feelings matter? If I’m always going to be there for you and everything you ask for. Well, fuck that!”

“Y/N..” Calum tried to intervene, but you couldn’t hear him.

“You want to know what I did after you left? I cried myself to sleep for weeks, reliving every moment we had, every word you said just before you left. Waiting by the phone for hours just to see if you’d call. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I was the living incarnation of death because I realized I lived just for you. Well, not anymore. You said you were hurting, you have no idea what I went through so, I’m sorry, but I don't really care how bad it hurts. I’m done. We are done”

You walk by him and towards the front door, opening it as an invitation for him to leave. Calum, however, remained standing in your kitchen, staring at you with glossy eyes.

“Baby, please don’t do this” He said with a trembling voice “I don’t know what to do without you I’m- I’m broken”

You were still standing by the door. Unmoving and without an inch of sympathy for the man crying in front of you.

“You broke me first, Calum. But I’m all glued back together now, and I did it by myself. Hope one day you could learn to do that too”

And, for the first time in months, you saw him leave.

398 notes · View notes

rokhal · 2 years

Text

The Raw Chicken Incident

Warning for body horror and humorous grossness.

This ficlet references this incident from Marc Spector: Moon Knight where Marc develops a mysterious illness that culminates in...brain-scarring weirdness. This is a re-imagining of that incident. With Robbie Reyes in full over-protective-brother-mode. Because.

They hustled inside at three in the morning, one stooped under a tarp and one watching for nosy neighbors, shut the door softly, and for once, Robbie Reyes was not the most monstrous and unnatural being in his apartment.

Robbie’s guest slunk to the couch and lay down, still cloaked in the plastic tarp that Eli insisted Robbie keep in the trunk of the Charger for “contingencies.” Robbie stood in the kitchen for several minutes, breathing slowly and deeply, until he remembered with a jolt that he’d planned to make chicken soup tonight for him and Gabe to eat over the next three days. He’d planned to get home and start cooking at midnight, finish at two, sleep for four hours and go to work.

This was going to suck.

He turned on the light in the stove hood and carefully pulled out the big stock pot, the cutting board, the knife, the vegetables, the thawed chicken from the refrigerator, vision blurring, forcing himself to concentrate as he lowered each item to keep from clattering, clanking, thumping, waking Gabe on a school night.

He set the stock pot in the sink at an angle and slowly eased open the faucet until a soft steady flow of water began to fill it. Meanwhile, he cut carrots and celery.

He heard a thunderous plasticky crackle-rustle behind him and bared his teeth, fury racing from his heart to his fingers and toes. Breathe. Compose himself. Turn around.

Jake, or Steven, had left the couch to sit at the kitchen table, red slit-pupils dilated in the dim light, hard white skin shining where it clung to raised sharp bones, clawed toes gently scratching the linoleum. He dug idly at the bed of his thumbnail with his opposite talons. The tarp had fallen off his shoulders to fold around his waist.

Right. That. “I thought you had a sting operation,” Robbie whispered, shutting off the water and lugging the heavy stock-pot to the stove. Four sex workers had been being torn to pieces in alleys over two weeks by a humanoid monster -- a man in a fright mask, the witnesses said -- and normally this was something the Rider would take care of without thinking twice, but vice cops were also being torn to pieces, and if the Rider made an appearance in the area, he might as well sign a confession as a cop killer. So he’d tipped off Jake from New York. Jake had promised that an expert would be in the area in a couple days and begged Robbie to stay out of it. The killings had stopped, and a couple weeks later Robbie got an invite to a six-car no-trailer eighth-mile tourney down in San Diego, and on the drive home tonight he’d almost hit...this...lurching into the roadway in front of the Charger.

“I did,” Jake croaked. He licked his lipless fangs with a forked, prehensile tongue, shook his head, sniffed loudly. “I stopped him. Clearly. But...witnesses said, ‘guy in a fright mask.’ Guy in a fright mask, slashing women on the street, enough skills and training to take out vice cops without being detected -- it was gonna be Marc’s, eh, somebody Marc knew from way back. Personal. Otherwise I’d...prob’ly invite La Leyenda out for a little tag-team. Which I shoulda done. Live and learn.”

“Marc?” Robbie asked, hoping to divert any more speculation about La Leyenda.

“Name on my birth certificate,” Jake said casually, squinting at the rough, almost scaly, creases in his palm. “As it turned out, it was an associate from back in the day, Jay Macendale. Costumed-contractor last I heard, a merc, a professional. Out killing cops and slashing ladies of the night, and it ain’t a fright mask, it’s his face. Strong as shit. Barely managed to chase him off, and Jay wanted me to win. Best I can tell, he’s...infected with something. He scratched the shit outta my chest.”

Robbie turned to look. Even with his eyes adjusted to the dim light, there were no scars on the rough white skin that clung to ropy muscles and jutting rib-bones.

“Docs thought it was necrotizing fasciitis,” Jake said casually, rubbing his left pectoral. “Kept spreading, they were pumping me fulla antibiotics, Steven went into hiding, Marc showed up to write this fuckin’ twenty-page confessional, and I kept not dying, which was odd. Moony kept working. Noticed I was gettin’ stronger. First I thought it was the lycanthropy acting up again, which --”

“What?” Robbie interrupted. He noticed he’d been chopping one carrot over and over until it was practically mush. He scraped it onto a plate and started on the celery.

“The thing that makes you a werewolf, it’s a virus, like cold sores,” Jake muttered, waving a talon dismissively. “Made sense, ‘cause when the cultures kept coming up negative they switched to pumpin’ me fulla cortisone, except the moon wasn’t even at first quarter and I was benchin’ four-fifty.”

He’s spilling his guts here, Eli pointed out. Something’s got him rattled.

Can’t imagine what that might be, Robbie thought, and opened the chicken’s shrink-wrap over the sink. Slimy blood oozed out.

“Everyone -- eh, Steven doesn’t really have a lot of people, but he’s the one keeps the most regular hours, you know? But he couldn’t deal with it. I could barely deal with it. I let Moony sleep in the suit so I didn’t have to look at myself. Steven’s lady, Marc’s buddy, the staff, everyone was goin’ nuts, doctors couldn’t tell me anything, and Marc’s best idea was to track down Macendale and ask him. ‘Cause, see, my skin kept falling off but at least I was strong enough now to beat some answers outta him.”

“What’d he say?” Robbie asked when Jake fell silent.

“Begged me to take his place.” Jake’s New Yawk accent, mangled though it had been through the long tongue and lipless teeth, was gone. “He...said he had a demon, that would take control of him. Making him hurt 'sinners’ because it wanted to ‘repent,’ and it, it’d be happier with me. ‘Cause I’d already quit the merc business. And.” The bone-white creature at Robbie’s kitchen table re-settled the tarp over his head and shoulders, covering his arms and tucking his claws inside. “I. You know I’m different people, Jake and Steven didn’t bother hiding it when we met, but...I’m not possessed. We have differences -- serious differences -- but we could’ve all been one person probably. But when he said it, I thought -- I mean, Moon Knight thought --”

“Thought he was being possessed?” Robbie asked gently.

“No. Possessing me. Us.” The person -- Marc? -- sat very still under the tarp. “Why does Jake trust you?”

“I don’t know.” He shouldn’t.

“Even if Moon Knight is possessing me, I’m glad it’s him,” Marc said softly, only the green gleam of eyeshine from his slit pupils visible under the tarp. “He’s doing a lot of good. I trust him. I -- we, all of...me.” He swallowed, a strange, drawn-out gurgling sound. “Think La Leyenda would help me track down Macendale again? I lost a few days doing that thing caterpillars do. Pupating.”

Robbie appreciated Marc giving him an out, especially since he’d confessed to being Moon Knight when he didn’t have to. “Tracking isn’t his thing.” Tracking was Robbie’s thing, and it took time and money he didn’t want to spare. He rinsed the chicken goop down the drain and finished unwrapping it, checked down the neck-hole. The grocery store liked to stuff gross things down there, probably to make it heavier so they could charge more. He pulled out two wet floppy red things and a firm round red thing.

“I’ll handle it,” Marc grunted. His stomach gurgled, loud enough to hear over the soft simmer from the stove. “If you drive me to my apawtment --” Jake’s accent was back. “Shit, the biometrics. Fukendammit.” He shrugged out of the tarp and studied the fingertips of one hand, gripping his abdomen with the other. “Retinal scanner oughtta work at least.”

Robbie doubted that. He opened the cupboard under the sink with his shoe and dropped the gross chicken bits in the garbage can. “Call me as soon as you find him.” If Moon Knight didn’t know the Rider could teleport, then maybe he could find Macendale and take care of him permanently, without interference. Not necessarily kill him. Robbie didn’t know enough about Macendale yet -- Guy said he’s a mercenary! Like the fuckers that killed you! -- to decide whether he should die, but it was good to have options. You’re gonna do it. You know you’re gonna do it. God, you’re obnoxious.

Jake’s stomach rumbled again, and he grunted.

“You okay?” Robbie asked, his hands slick with chicken juice. Jake’s face, such as it was, was unreadable, but the way he clutched his abdomen and bowed his head looked like pain, confusion, and Robbie had seen Gabe in that exact same pose, too many times to ignore it. “You want a heating pad?”

“Dunno.” The gurgling sounded again, persistent and angry. He poked under his ribs with one knuckle, claw tucked safely away. “It’s all so fuckin’ weird -- ah! Ah!” His knuckle sank inside as his skin parted like a seam, wet red things moving within, and as he yanked his hand away, his entire body tensed and something long and coiled and muscular sprang out from the wound, slapped against Robbie’s arm, and engulfed the chicken, styrofoam tray and all, in its fanged circular maw.

Fuck! Robbie dodged aside, pawed at his hip for Eli’s long-vanished belt knife, sweat prickling over his body as he gazed at the squirming horror on his kitchen counter: soft, wet, red, large as a python, eyeless, skinless.

Jake was stone-still, panting shallowly, pupils blank slits in his huge red eyes, clear fluid oozing from the void under his ribs. The creature’s rubbery mouth sealed shut again, its coils flexed, and then it sprang back at Jake’s wound, and with a wrench that drew another pained grunt, tugged the bulge of the chicken and the rest of its body in after it. The wound, which was not a wound, closed tight like clenched lips.

Jake blinked, pawed at his stomach, and took a deep breath, then another and another, far too fast to be actual controlled breathing. “I’m okay,” he gasped on an exhale. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

“That was supposed to be this week’s dinner,” Robbie said numbly. His arm was wet where the -- chest-burster -- had slapped against it, and he felt around for the dish soap, still watching Jake for further...eruptions.

“I just ate five pounds of raw chicken,” Jake said. At least it might have been Jake. His slit-pupils had grown huge and round, and Robbie could see every sharp bone in his chest heave with his breaths. “I can’t do this. Fuck, I can’t do this, I can’t --” and he cut himself off and stared blankly at the stock pot, which had finally begun to boil now that Robbie had nothing to put in it.

Robbie washed off his arm, and then the counter, with soap, several times, and opened the freezer. He had a tube of ground beef that was supposed to be for Hamburger Helper. In the cupboard, he had a bag of mixed soup beans with a recipe on the side. He squinted at it. You were supposed to soak the beans overnight, which was why they’d been sitting in his cupboard for two years. Walmart was all the way across town. It was almost four in the morning. He’d bought all these vegetables. Cut a pile of carrots and celery. He stared at the cutting board and the knife, waiting for a fantasy to flash across his brain of slashing Jake’s throat into the stock pot or something horrible, and yep, there it came.

He’d just have to use the hamburger.

“I’m okay,” the person said again, calm now.

“Jake?” Robbie asked softly.

“I don’t care. Sure. I can pay for the chicken.”

$7.82 for a frozen chicken wouldn’t exactly compensate Robbie for his lost time. Or sleep. Or from having to see Jake eject an entire organ across the room; Robbie burned to death once or twice a month for the last two years and he’d never seen anything so horrible before in his life.

Jake, or whoever, stood, the tarp loose around his waist. “I’ll sleep. Digest.”

“My brother’s gonna wake up in about three hours,” Robbie said.

“Hm. Got a coat closet?”

“Use my bed. I’ll sleep in the car.” For two hours, while the soup cooled. “Hey. Are you, um.” Robbie couldn’t think of anything he could possibly say that could relieve the horror of Jake’s situation. “You want some hot chocolate?”

“Not sure which hole to drink it with,” Possibly-Jake said, which was a mental image Robbie did not need. “There’s no way I’m getting through the biometrics. Howsabout you and me, tonight, we go to my place, you call La Leyenda, see if we can’t break in fast enough to cancel the alarms before the cops come. Then you can be my face-man to track down Macendale. Grand a week, ten after I beat some answers outta him. You in?”

That’s more like it. “I’m in.” Robbie showed the vaguely-humanoid being into his room, grabbed his laptop and his more sensitive loose-leaf notebooks to hide in the car. He tugged the sheets straight, suddenly self-conscious of the holes in the cotton, the dent in the mattress, nothing like Gabe’s bedding, which had come new from the discount store. The mingled stink of body odor and gasoline that filled the room. “Are you...really okay?”

Possibly-Jake shrugged, let the tarp drop entirely. “Is anyone?” He flopped into Robbie’s bed and covered himself faster than Robbie could avert his eyes.

Is anyone? Robbie shut the door softly, returned to the kitchen, checked the chair where Jake had just had a panic attack for stray drops of chicken juice or abdominal fluid. He got out the tube of ground beef and started cutting it free from its plastic tube, hands shaking but not enough to let the frozen meat slip. Is anyone really okay?

Maybe not. But they did what they had to do.

#all-new ghost rider #moon knight #jake lockley #marc spector #robbie reyes #crackfic #my fanfic

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prolestariwrites · 3 years

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The Wish [8]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, V, Lady, Eva, Sparda, OC Rating: General Tags: Family, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Typical demon hunting violence

Summary: A demon gives Dante the chance to have his greatest desires made real. When he finds himself in a seemingly idyllic life, all seems well until it starts to unravel. Will he sacrifice himself to save the family he lost, or will he choose to give them up for the truth?

Now Posted: Chapter 8, in which Dante has to face the most intimidating creature of all... his wife.

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Chapter 8: Dante Sparda, Legendary Demon Hunter

Dante pulls up outside of Vergil’s house and turns off the car. They sit in silence for a long moment before he says, “Thanks again for what you did back there.”

“You’re welcome.”

His brother’s voice shakes a bit, but it seems like he’s holding onto control, even if it’s barely. Which is something at least. “It’s funny,” Dante jokes, “you’ve used Summoned Swords on me half a dozen times at least, and this might be the first time you used it to save me.”

“Summoned Swords,” Vergil murmurs. “Is that what that’s called?”

“It’s what you called it in my world. Although it’s a bit different there.”

Vergil nods, and silence settles again. Dante scratches his chin as he searches for what to say. “You know, Nero can do it too. Surprised the hell out of me the first time I saw it.”

“Nero.” Vergil turns his face to the window. “I should get inside.”

“Yeah. But, Verge…” Dante sighs as Vergil looks back at him. It is obvious his brother needs him now: he needs comfort, reassurance, something to help him process everything and come to terms with the truth. He needs wisdom. He needs tact and compassion.

Damn it all. “I’ll pick you up in the morning,” Dante says. “Then we’ll look for dad.”

“Yeah.”

Vergil reaches for the car door and Dante blurts out, “Don’t worry about anything. We’ll find him. And if any demons show up, you can use Yamato. You’re a better fighter than I am, so you’ll be fine.”

“I’m not a swordsman, Dante,” he grumbles. “I haven’t fought with anyone since we were children.”

“But you can. And Mary can too. She’s a way more successful demon hunter than I am.” Vergil frowns at him, but Dante continues, encouraged, “She kicked both our asses. She’s always got some demon on the run, knows how to use dozens of weapons and make her own even. And Nero? He’s got all kinds of crazy power. He was demon hunting before he even knew how.”

“Nero’s just a child.”

“Yeah, here he is, but in my time, he’s older, and I’ve seen him in action. Took down a whole evil god robot once.” Vergil huffs and shakes his head as Dante leans his elbow on the steering wheel. “I’m just saying, you don’t have to worry. You didn’t think you could fight but then you skewered that guy. So trust that they can handle themselves. And your V, Vitale? He’s not… I don’t know him, he’s not from where I’m from, but if he’s anything like you, then he’s got this too.”

Vergil glances at him briefly before nodding. Then he opens the car door and climbs out, and Dante watches as he hurries up the driveway to his front door, still clutching the sword.

Dante heaves a long sigh before starting the car again. On the drive to home, he wonders what he’s going to do about Lir. He’s still not entirely sure she’s not a demon too, so if he comes clean with her, there’s no telling she won’t attack him just like the bar waitress.

His questions are answered when he walks in the front door. “Dante? Dante!” Lir practically runs to greet him from the kitchen. “There you are! What happened? Are you okay?”

Before he can answer she pulls him into a hug, forcing him to bend over so she can press her cheek to his. “Dante,” she murmurs, and he feels a pang of guilt as he returns the hug. “I was so worried.”

“I’m okay.” He eases up and pushes her hair back from her face. “Why were you worried?”

“Your mom called all frantic. She said your father ran off and broke a window and in his study… there was…” Lir’s voice trails away as she examines his front, and Dante glances down. There are splatters of blood on his jacket and shirt, and he steps back as she gapes. “She said there was blood on the floor. What happened?”

Her eyes are wide with alarm as they rise to meet his. “Let me get cleaned up and I’ll explain.”

Dante eases past her and heads to the kitchen. Lir follows, hanging back in the doorway as he moves to the sink. He uses the minute to think as he runs his hands under the hot water, taking a few pumps of dish soap to clean the blood away. He shuts off the faucet and grabs a dish towel, drying them as he turns to face her.

He leans against the kitchen counter and swallows thickly. “Mom was upset, huh?”

“Very.” Lir takes a step closer before hesitating. “What happened?”

“We… fought. It’s fine,” he says hurriedly, holding up a palm as she opens her mouth. “My dad’s been keeping secrets and I confronted him. It didn’t go well.”

“Secrets?” she asks. “What kind of secrets?”

Dante folds his arms with a sigh. “He’s not who he says he is. He’s… something else.”

“Something else? What does that mean?”

“It means he’s not human.”

He waits for a long moment to let the news absorb. Lir stares at him with wide eyes, and he notices how her fingers tremble as she reaches out to brace against one of the chairs at the little breakfast table. “He’s not human,” she murmurs.

Dante nods and she tilts her head towards him. “And the blood?”

He glances down at his soiled shirt. “That was my mistake. Dad was lying and I wanted him to tell Vergil the truth. So I stabbed him with a sword.”

“You stabbed him?”

“Yeah. He was fine though. Got right up.” Dante chuckles. “Shoulda seen the look on his face. Serves the old man right. He kept refusing to come clean, and I—”

“Dante.” His mouth snaps shut as she sinks into the chair, looking pale. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“If it makes you feel any better, this isn’t all his blood.” Lir looks up sharply as he spreads his arms. “Vergil and I got a drink afterwards and got attacked by a couple of demons in the bar. Had to kill a waitress and all I had was a chair leg, if you can believe it. Luckily Vergil came through. Wasn’t that bad, he killed the bartender.”

“You killed a waitress?”

Dante winces. “Okay, it sounds really bad when you say it like that. But they were demons, I swear.” He starts to walk towards her, and Lir scrambles up, pressing back against the wall. The fear on her face makes him freeze, and he watches as her eyes start to tear up. “Hey, relax. Really. It’s gonna be fine.”

He takes another step and Lir launches herself across the kitchen, diving for the knife block. She pulls a long bread knife from its slot and spins, holding it out like a magic wand as if to ward him off. “Don’t come any closer!” she shrieks.

“Okay. Obviously I’m telling this story wrong.” Dante holds up his palms. “I’m not gonna hurt you. See?”

“You’re crazy!” she cries. “Demons? Killing?” He rolls his eyes and she shakes her head furiously. “Stay away from me!”

She steps to the side, keeping pressed against the counter, as she fishes her cell phone from her pocket. Dante frowns as she swipes it on. “What are you doing?”

“I’m calling the police.”

Her voice has an edge now, and Dante can see she’s a dangerous mixture of frightened and furious. “I’ll just go,” he suggests.

Lir shoots him a look to kill as she raises the phone to her ear. “Hello? Yes? Yes, I need the police, my husband—”

As she speaks, something catches Dante’s attention, like a pinprick on his neck. His head turns just as the ceiling explodes in a shower of drywall, the window shattering as something breaks through. Lir screams and he sees her drop the phone in the corner of his eye, and Dante steps between her and the two demons that now stand towering in their kitchen.

He looks up at the hole in the ceiling and grits his teeth when he sees the sky. “We have a fucking door you know,” he growls.

“Dante!”

Lir’s voice is wild with panic, and he holds out a hand. He curses silently, knowing her being here is going to just make this harder. It’s bad enough to fight a demon when a human is around, but now his instinct to protect her is screaming loud enough in his head to drown out any reason. He’s got to get her safe, and then he can deal with them.

“Lir, I want you to run.”

“What?”

“Get to the front door and run. Now!”

He doesn’t know if she obeys because at that moment they advance. Once again he tries to summon Rebellion, and again he realizes he’s left it in the damn car. Two sets of teeth and four sets of claws come for him with a screech, and then Dante is dodging, throwing one punch after another as he tries to make a plan. One of the demons picks up the toaster and throws it at him, making him duck. It sails over his head and implants into the wall behind him. “What the hell!”

One of the demons grabs his leg, pulling him to the ground. Dante lurches to the counter as he falls and grabs a drawer, yanking it free with one pull. He prays it has something he can use, but inside are dish towels. “Damn it,” he mutters, but he swings the drawer, which breaks with a spray of splinters as it hits one demon full on the face. It falls back and lets his leg go, and Dante scrambles to his feet, pulling open another cabinet.

This one has plates at least, so he grabs the stack and throws them one by one at the other demon. They explode in its face, the porcelain shattering loudly as it falls in pieces to the floor, but they disorient it enough that Dante can deliver a kick that sends it sailing across the kitchen. Before the two demons can recover, he lunges at the knife block, and with a steak knife in each hand, he quickly dispatches them both, slitting their heads open, both collapsing in a pool of dark blood.

Dante catches his breath and drops the two knives in the sink. When he turns, he finds Lir on the ground, her knees drawn up as she gapes at him.

“Lir…” he murmurs with a wince. They stare at each other for a long moment, and he takes in the pieces of drywall stuck in her hair, the way her shoulders shake, the bright flush on her face. But she’s alive, that’s all that matters. The rest of this shit he can explain, and fix, and make up to her.

Just then, there is the sound of someone talking, and they both look down at the phone on the ground. It looks like it takes a half minute for her to remember what it is, but then she jerks it up to her ear. “Hello? Hello, yes I’m here. No, no, everything’s fine.” Her eyes are wide as they take in the mess now that it’s settled, but her voice is steady. “I thought my husband was hurt, but he’s fine. A cabinet fell over in the kitchen, that was all the commotion. I’m so sorry.” She listens for a moment and then says, “Really, it’s not necessary. We’re fine.”

Dante takes a deep breath as she finishes the call, looking out the hole in the wall where the window used to be. He scans the darkness for any more demons, but his senses don’t pick anything else up. Lir says goodbye, and he glances over as she presses a finger to the screen before slowly setting the phone on the ground.

Their gazes connect, and he feels a twist in his chest as he sees tears swimming in her eyes. But then Lir scrambles towards him, and he catches her in a tight hug, her face pressed to his neck. Dante gives a small smile as he holds her closely, rubbing a soothing hand on her back as her breath shakes against his skin.

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“So that’s everything.” Dante looks over at the passenger side, where Lir stares straight ahead. “Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

Her eyes fall to where her hands sit in her lap. “So you’re not Dante? My husband?”

“I guess not,” he replies. “I mean, I’m Dante, but I don’t know if I’m him or if he’s me or if…” He rubs his face and glances at the clock on the dashboard which shows it’s nearly midnight. The gas station they had pulled into is deserted, and the light from the shelters over the pumps gives enough light that he can see the pained expression on her face. “Sorry. I keep saying the wrong thing. And uh, I guess I should apologize… for the other night—”

“No, it’s…” She glances over, almost shyly, and Dante’s heart skips a beat. “You’re still him, just not him him. I think.”

“Right.” He chuckles humorlessly with a half smile. “You hungry?”

Lir shakes her head. “Not really. I’m exhausted.”

“Let’s get some rest then.” He starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot, heading down the nearly empty street. After a few turns he finds a little motel, and Lir luckily doesn’t argue when he parks. She stops to grab the bag she had packed in haste before they fled the house as he heads into the office, emerging a minute later with a room key. “Funny, the guy didn’t blink twice even though I’m a mess,” he jokes.

Dante grabs Rebellion from the trunk, remembering this time, before he leads her to room six. But he hesitates when he slides the key into the lock. “I guess I should have gotten two rooms?” he murmurs.

“No. I don’t want to be alone.” She presses her hand on his back lightly. “It’s fine.”

He nods as they enter, flicking on the lights as Lir follows inside. There is a Queen-sized bed in the middle, a television, a chair and table, and Lir shrugs off her jacket before opening the bag. She pulls out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, holding them out to him. “Do you want to get cleaned up?”

“Yeah.” Lir doesn’t look up at him as he takes the clothes, and not knowing what else to say, he heads into the bathroom.

His reflection is a mess, his hair sticky strands covered in blood and dirt. His face and neck aren’t much better, and as he strips off his clothes, he thinks about what he must have looked like arriving home like that. “This is why I never got married,” he mutters to himself as he turns on the faucet. “Too much trouble.”

His dialogue continues as he starts the shower and unwraps the little bar of free soap, listing the reasons why a relationship and marriage don’t mix with demon hunting: too much blood. Too much laundry. Too many questions. Weapons. Blood. Death.

He leans his forearm on the tile, watching as red swirls around the drain until the water goes clear. Stupid fucking wish, he thinks. This life he had always wanted? It’s not possible, and he needs to accept that and move on. He had no idea what he was asking for, Dante realizes.

It makes sense, really, he tells himself as he towels off. After all, Lady didn’t have anybody. Neither did Trish. Whoever Nero’s mother was, it couldn’t have lasted long before Vergil was gone, if his brother even knew he had a kid in the first place. Too much liability when you have someone in your life. He remembers Lir’s scream as the demons crashed into their home, the way the fear hit in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long, long time. But Nero has managed it, hasn’t he? He has Kyrie, and goes home to her every night, blood and guts and all. Dante frowns, wondering if it’s not meant to last. It would kill the kid to lose her.

Sparda, Vergil, him, now Nero… their whole family, one after another, losing someone close before disappearing too. Like some big cosmic joke.

Lir is curled up on the pillows, the lights off and the television on. She pulls back the covers when he climbs up to join her, and Dante smiles a bit when she repositions herself with her head on his chest and her arms tightly wrapped around him. “This okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

Dante snorts. “Nah. It’s a crazy story, I know.”

“I pulled a knife on you.”

“Not the first time someone’s done that.”

Lir stiffens a bit before lifting her head. She looks at him sadly, but he grins. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You didn’t tell me who I am,” she says.

Dante glances away with a shrug. “I don’t know you in my time. We never met.”

“Oh.” She lays her head back down against his shoulder, and Dante settles his hand on her hip. “I’m glad we got to meet here.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Dante listens as Lir’s breathing goes steady, her body sinking against him as she falls asleep. He stays awake, watching the light behind the curtain grow darker before slowly turning gray. By the time the sun comes up, his decision is made.

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #dmc vergil #fanfiction #the wish #myfic #yes it's been months #pandemic related hiatus is not fun #but hopefully over #and i will finish this fic!

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