#yells in angel sanctuary
Text
Simple Math / Part One
Simple Math masterlist
Ghost/Soap/female reader
4k words - AO3
Warnings-tags: Medical inaccuracies, hospitals, medical procedures, medications, nurse!reader, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, Johnny is a flirt, Simon is a basketcase.
You meet your new patient, and his ghost.
“Johnny.”
He blinks.
There’s so much noise now, an overload of sensation ringing between his ears. Ripping and tearing, shouting, booming. The night lights with blue and green explosions, whistles of rockets singing through the sky.
He blinks again.
“Johnny, stay with me.” Simon’s calling to him, hands firm against his belly. “Eyes open, Sergeant.” There’s fear there, terror drenching each syllable. White-hot, mind-numbing pain radiates from where a palm presses against his wound, gaping hole torn through his stomach, river of blood spilling from his body. Pint by pint flows freely from him to the dirt.
He’s never seen Simon like this before, the whites of his eye gleam like bone. Terrified. Frantic.
It must be bad. He must be dying.
As he blinks, Simon slowly disappears, morphing into someone else, eyes and nose molding into another’s, Price’s face taking the place of his partner’s without preamble. Fire douses the air, red and purple explosions dancing above his head like a halo. Angelic light, falling from heaven to earth, just to take him away.
Fire and blood. Fitting end for a Catholic, he supposes.
Gaz yells something into a radio. A fruitless effort.
“Si.” He tries to reach, tries to pull him close, but his arm is dead weight, along with the rest of him. “Ah love ye. Tell- tell her, Ah love-”
“Stop.” The word is barked over another ricochet. “Lay still. You’ll tell him yourself.”
“Simon.”
“No, Johnny. You don’t get to say goodbye. Not yet.”
Hospitals are dreadful places.
For most people, hospitals hold the memories of the worst moments in their lives, loss of loved ones, loss of self, painful injuries, frightening medical procedures, or mistreatment by medical professionals. The sanitized, whitewashed walls and off-white linoleum even have a certain scent, a smell that people associate with fear, discomfort, pain. It's globally accepted that hospitals are not well liked. They're not popular or particularly enjoyable. No one wants to go to the hospital.
But to you, the hospital is everything.
It’s where you spend a large amount of your time awake, willingly choosing to be here over anywhere else. Picking up odd shifts on different units, offering to cover for coworkers, staying late or coming in early whenever it's needed. It's your place. Your only place. It's where you make connections, where you're good at something, where you can be seen but never noticed. It’s what you dedicate your life, your time to. It’s what you cling to. It’s where you find your own peace, your own solace. Where you can let go of everything at home and focus on what you’re good at, caring about your coworkers, honing your skills, taking care of your patients. It’s yours. A place where you’re sheltered, where you can be yourself and not have to look over your shoulder, or keep your voice down, or mince your words. Somewhere you know what to expect, where you can predict, most days, the outcome of most things. Where you can feel in control. Its consistent, solid. It’s your safety. Your sanctuary. Nothing can hurt you here.
It's everything to you.
The elevator dings, announcing its arrival, and you curl your hands around your coffee out of habit, warming your palms.
“Good morning?” The friendly face inside greets you, nodding towards your tall mug, steam wafting from the top, hot and fresh from the café. They're a rad tech, you're pretty sure. Day shift. Parker, maybe?
The elevator is always the same. Hellos, goodbyes, floor to floor. No one bemoans their outcomes or tallies their losses here. No one celebrates their successes or accomplishments either. It stays void, unfeeling, unknowing, except for the comings and goings.
“Hey, yeah. Good morning. Good night?”
“Oh yeah, definitely.” They agree, and you bounce on your toes, stretching the front of your new sneakers, trying to get the bridge across the tops of your feet to loosen a little.
“Have a good rest of your day.” You give them a smile, and then hop off, ready to start your morning, as most of this side of the hemisphere gets ready for bed.
“You too.”
“And room two sixty-eight is stable, sedated, for now, but he bottomed out less than hour ago, so keep a close eye. I haven’t had a chance to orient him either, so give it a go, if you can.” Mal taps her passcode into the tablet with one eye closed, spine slowly relaxing downward with exhaustion. “Thank you again. For covering. I wasn’t about to be stuck on another long swing because Alexis decided not to grace us with her presence.” She rolls her eyes, and you incline your head in response, shrugging her off. Mal saved your ass six ways to Sunday when you were a new nurse here, and you’d do just about anything for her, and coming in when your coworker decides she wants to be a slag doesn't even count, considering you prefer to be here anyway.
Shift change bustles down and up the floor, night shift coming on, days and others leaving. You make polite small talk with everyone, since you don’t know them as well. It’s their Friday. Tomorrow is your Monday; you’re just picking up. Everyone is thrilled to have you though, including the charge nurse, and you allow yourself to sink into the ups and downs of their conversation, back and forth about weekend plans, their kids, their relationships, their issues.
In a group like this, you're seen. Not noticed.
Just the way you like it.
“Oh!” Mal calls out, breezing by the pit with her bag slung over her shoulder, watered down iced coffee in her grip.
“Go home.” You chide, and she sucks in a breath before opening her mouth again.
“I am, but one last thing-“
“Malaya. I got it.”
“I know, I know but this isn’t in the chart. Two sixty-eight, he’s military. There are three others here with him, two kind lurking in the hallway, and his partner is in his room, refusing to go home. He’s…weird. Got special permissions to bypass visiting hours.” She raises an eyebrow. “But they’re all quite fit. Caused a bit of a… stir.” Great. The last thing you needed in the ICU is a stir of any kind. You needed it calm. Peaceful.
“Okay, got it. Thanks. Now shoo.”
You check your email, skimming with speed, skipping over anything HR related, starring skills updates to look back at later, and casually replying to a request for a float to the PACU another day this week- Hi! I’d love to pick up a few hours if I can arrange it. What time are you needing? Before moving onto checks for your patients (too many, if anyone asked your opinion- which they wouldn’t, because why would administration want to ask a nurse their opinion on anything, right?) ensuring that everyone is in good shape, stable, relaxed, resting, or even better, fully sedated. Two of your patients are on vents, and you check in with the RT on shift before heading down the hall to your last, first stop of the day.
Two sixty-eight.
Two men are slumped over and asleep in the hallway chairs outside the room, arms folded, thighs spread wide, chins tucked to chest. One of them younger, probably closer to your age, chiseled jawline akin to Adonis, the type of rich beauty that would make anyone do a double take, and an older, albeit not by much, muscled, broad chested man with a distinguished moustache curling above his lip, eyes hidden beneath the rim of a hat.
These must be the guys causing the stir.
You stop outside the slider of two sixty-eight, drawing a deep breath before knocking and then pulling the slider, fogged glass parting to reveal your patient asleep, sedated, in the bed, and his partner, a hulking mass who sits at attention by his side. He’s broad, clad in black sweats, heavy arms and straight back showcasing his size- massive. The sweatshirt hides definition but judging by the appearance of the two in the hallway and your patient, you’d guess this guy was just as fit. He looks uncomfortable, body too big for the chair, brow creased with worry overtop the black cloth mask that covers his nose and mouth.
There’s something, in his eyes. Something devastated. Something you’ve seen before, in people who sit vigil like this, preparing for the worst, praying for the best, and something else, something that you recognize, but rarely see inside these walls. Something dark and severe, foreboding, even with part of a handsome face peeking out over the mask.
He's already half lost to his grief.
He could be a ghost.
“Hi.” You whisper your name with a small smile and point to your identification tag. “I’m the overnight nurse.” You imbue the words with sweetness, kindness, but he doesn’t respond, just traces you from head to toe and gives a perfunctory nod. It’s not abnormal for a patient’s loved ones to be less than warm, especially to the graves nurse, the one who ends up interrupting their sleep at odd hours of the night, the one who’s usually here when the worst happens. You never take it personally. You’ve sat in that chair before. You’ve known the pain of this heartache, the way their hearts are cleaving in two, one half desperate to stay beating, the other begging to be lowered in a grave alongside their loved one.
You give the silent man an opportunity to speak when you step up to your patient’s monitor, and then motion to the man in the bed.
“This is John? Mr. MacTavish?”
John MacTavish.
You’ve already read his chart back to front, memorizing his labs, his last vitals check, going over the scope of his procedure from this afternoon, and the tentative plan for the morning.
He’s a mess. Collapsed lung, hemothorax. Broken ribs, internal bleeding. Perforated liver. Broken wrist. Lacerations all over his body. Third degree burn on the entirety of his lower right quadrant. Shattered femur. Fractured hip. Triaged and treated in the field with less than stellar medical care. Came off the medevac and went right into surgery that lasted nearly ten hours long.
Lucky to be alive.
“Johnny.” He corrects, his Manchester accent sharp, rough. You type it into the chart, making a note that Johnny is the preferred name, over John, and duck down to check the bag that’s attached to his foley catheter. The man across from you tenses but doesn’t say anything, tracking your every movement like he’s nervous you might harm your patient.
“I’m just going to check this dressing. I would prefer not to wake him, so I’ll be as gentle as I can, okay?” You explain, motioning to the wrapped portion of his body. He doesn’t respond, just sits still as stone as your fingers nimbly move his gown to survey the would and it's dressing before putting everything back in place. You’re quick once you’re satisfied that it looks okay, tucking the blanket back in around him, careful not to jostle where his leg is immobilized, wrapped in gauze and elevated. “I know this has probably been a very frightening and difficult time for you.” You tell the man in the chair with a whisper. “If you need anything, have any questions, concerns, I’m here. For both of you. I’ll be here at least four, five nights a week as long as he’s on this floor, so we’ll get to know one another.” When he still doesn’t say anything, you try to fight the awkward feeling that’s vibrating up your spine. Okay, he clearly doesn’t want to talk to you. That’s fine.
Your patient groans. His partner startles, body jolting, and then he’s on his feet, leaning over the bed, eyes searching, anticipating. He looks so… unsure. Worry etches across his face as he waits, and his hand hovers without purpose above the bed, flailing in the air like he doesn’t know what to do.
You stand back for a moment. Your patient, Johnny, will mostly likely be lucid for the first time in who knows how long, and you’d like a chance to orient him, let him realize his partner is here with him, tell him he’s going back in for surgery in the morning, before giving him some more pain medication.
The monitor beeps, signaling an increase in his heart rate, respiration, spiraling upwards until-
“Johnny?” The question is hopeful, nervous, and your patient grunts, tongue darting out to lick his lips before they crack open.
“Simon.” The name is a whisper, heavy with relief, and you make a mental note. Johnny and Simon. Room two-sixty-eight. “Whit happened?”
“You’re in the hospital.” Simon explains, anxiously glancing at you. “Can I… can I touch him?”
“Of course. Carefully.” He lowers his face to Johnny’s so slowly, so gently your heart skip a beat, tapping their foreheads together cautiously.
"Yer here." Johnny whispers, the fingers in his good hand barely lifting, reaching out to try to touch Simon, even though his body won't cooperate. "Thought Ah dreamed ye." You can see it, the heavy burden of love that lays between them, the thing that's brought them to this point, the thing that shines in Johnny's eyes as he tries to drink in the frame of Simon's face, tracing his features over and over, painting a picture to take with him... wherever he goes.
What is it like, to be loved like that? To be known like that? To be held in someone's heart, cherished and protected?
You had no idea, but these two did. Just one look, and you knew these two had something people all over the world would kill for.
“I'm here. I'm right here." Something wet and desperate is caught in Simon's throat, and Johnny’s lips tug into a weak smile before it fades away with a grimace, his partner straightening with a wide hand tight on the bed railing, knuckles turning white with the strength of his grip.
“Hi.” You tell Johnny your name quickly, eager to get the less important stuff out of the way and start working towards getting him some relief. “I’m your overnight nurse. How’s your pain?” He frowns in consideration before groaning.
“’s alright.”
“Don’t be brave.” Simon says, and you nod in agreement.
“I’d like to get you some relief now so you can sleep, if we can.” Pain management can be a delicate conversation with patients, and you never truly know how they’re going to respond until you get to this point for the first time. You smile down at him, and he gives you one back, sleepy and sweet, bright blue eyes peeking out beneath drooping lids.
“Bad.” He croaks, and Simon glances at you in expectation. You nod to reassure him, reassure them both.
“Alright. Let’s get you something, yeah?” You log his vitals with a few taps on the tablet. The order’s already in the chart, and you ready the dosage, turning your back to give them some privacy.
“Where’s-“
“At the Price’s.” Simon murmurs, voice low, it’s deep rumble vibrating around the room.
“Ach.” Johnny groans something out, but it’s lost to his discomfort, and you wince in sympathy, wiping the hub of his port with an alcohol swab.
“Okay. So, this should go a long way with your pain.” you tell him, disconnecting his line to replace it with the flush. Simon tenses, again, practically flinching in the chair when you approach Johnny with the first syringe of saline. His eyes crease in concentration, watching your fingers, trying to keep up with your movements. “I’m flushing the line.” You explain gently. “Then I’ll push the medication, like this,” You’re quick with your hands, swapping the syringes and then slowing down to administer the medication at the correct push rate. Simon visibly relaxes, only a fraction, after the explanation, and once you’re done, you attach a new flush. “It’s saline. Compatible with the body, we use it to make sure that all the medication is moved through the tube.” He’s focused on your movements, and you reattach the fluids line before patting Johnny’s shoulder softly. “There, all done. He should be feeling much better here in a moment or two.”
“Cheers, bonnie.” Johnny slurs, and you huff a laugh.
“I’ll be back in a half hour for a vitals check, and then after than I’ll leave you be for a while. You do have another surgery scheduled for tomorrow morning, early-“ you glance at Simon, hoping that someone came by to already talk to him, and he nods. “So, I’ll see you before then too. I’m always a click away, if you need something.” You point to the button on the side of the bed. “If either of you need anything, I’m here. Okay?”
“Whit surgery?” Johnny grunts. Simon’s jaw flexes behind the mask, but he hesitates. It’s long enough that Johnny tries to rouse himself, and you rush to answer, to settle him.
“You have a broken hip, and your femur is shattered.” Nothing like ripping the band aid off. “Orthopedics will come by in the morning to talk about the plan, but they have to go back in to continue to work on the repair.” You don’t mention that his leg is still partially open, packed for reentry in six hours, that the damage to his lung and liver took priority when he came in, and by the end of that, the swelling in his leg was too severe to continue. You’re not the doctor, so it’s not your job to advise your patient or his family of his prognosis, really. You need to keep him calm, comfortable. Alive. Advocate for him, for both of them. That’s the job. Simon can tell him what he wishes, when he’s lucid.
Johnny’s lashes flutter, and he mumbles something, fingers curling in Simon’s grip. You take your cue, checking your watch. “I’ll let you get some rest.” You enter a quick vitals check, and then turn to leave.
“Thank you.” Simon murmurs to your back, and you pause half step, head turned over your shoulder.
“Of course.”
Six hours later, you’re slipping back into the room to say good morning to a groggy, but still somewhat alert patient.
“Good morning.” You whisper, and then frown a little at where Simon is still sitting in the same spot, upright with heavy eyelids and mussed hair peeking out from the black hood. He looks like he hasn’t slept for a single moment, blue black circles shining under his eyes, stiff and uncomfortable in the too small chair.
Maybe we could get a recliner in here.
A big recliner.
“How’re we feeling this morning?”
“Alright.” Johnny grumbles.
“He’s in pain.” Simon snaps at you abruptly, insistent, and irritated, and your muscles tense instinctively before you forcibly relax them, un-bunching your shoulders from beneath your ears.
Deep breath.
Simon’s head cocks, just slightly, and then his attention is back on Johnny, two hands cradling one another, fingers intertwined like they’re afraid to let go.
“Okay, let’s see if I can get you a little bit of medication.” You pull out your phone, flicking open your work app to message his doctor. “They’ll probably order a small dosage of dilaudid, have you ever had that before?”
“Na.”
“Might make you a bit loopy. I’ll have them give it to you when you get upstairs.” You glance at Simon. “Did you get down to the café, grab something for breakfast?” He shakes his head no, and you briefly considering encouraging him before realizing it will probably go over like a lead balloon. You smile at Johnny instead. “Your partner tells me you prefer to go by Johnny?”
“Does he?” He blinks, blue eyes alight behind sleepy lids, looking over to Simon like he’s caught a kid in a cookie jar. “Aye, ah jalouse ye kin ca' me Johnny, bonnie.”
“English, MacTavish.” Simon murmurs, stroking a soft semi-circle into his arm with his thumb.
“Ye can call me Johnny, pretty girl.” He speaks slowly, dragging his consonants and vowels until he gets to the last two words, an impish smile twisting his lips.
Pretty girl.
It’s suddenly incredibly warm in this room.
You roll your eyes on instinct as you’ve trained yourself to do whenever a patient lobs a compliment or a flirtatious quip at you, but it’s usually only ever old men. Or women.
Not beautiful, sculpted Scotsmen with sleepy smiles, stunning blue eyes, and mysteriously handsome, brooding partners.
You clear your throat, self-conscious, and startle just a bit when you hear the door opening, OR team sidling through to bring him upstairs.
“Alright, well. This team will take great care of you, and I’ll see you tonight when I’m back.” You pour positivity into your words, a practice you’ve maintained during your career, thinking good things for your patients, being positive for your patients. A good attitude can go a long way, especially for patients who may have a long road ahead of them, like Johnny.
Slipping out the door, you turn your head to where Simon listens to the surgeon intently, brows lowered, nodding occasionally, and splitting his attention between the (what you’re sure is) a one-sided conversation and where Johnny is half awake in bed, a nurse and two techs busy around him, prepping for the walk and elevator ride, their hands still clutched together.
Johnny looks over, small sigh expanding across his chest, locking eyes with you for a moment. You freeze, taken aback by the clarity in his gaze, his face shifting from uncomfortable and pained into a small smile, lopsided and sweet.
You give him one back and disappear down the too-white corridor, new soles squeaking against the floor.
Badging out always twists your stomach with the same kind of dread. It's Tell-Tale Heart kind of dread, something that starts in your mind and spreads through your bones, a symptom of malignancy, sickness that ties you in knots, tips you over into dark waters with waves that break too close to the shore. It keeps you rolling your neck and shoulders over and over to release some of the tired tension that’s been building in your back, trying to relax and ease the anxiety that's building up inside you like a tea kettle.
You’re half sleepwalking, mind already wandering when your shoes squeak to a halt outside of two sixty-eight on your way to the elevator, in front of the door parted to reveal Simon sitting in the chair by Johnny’s empty bed, arms crossed, head tipped backwards.
Is he asleep?
You purse your lips and tap against the glass with your knuckle.
“Hi.” You call to no response. Probably asleep. “Simon?” you whisper his name, and once he doesn’t respond, you turn the dimmer all the way down, satisfied that he’s getting some rest. You set your uneaten banana and protein bar on the little table by the bed before sneaking away, sliding the door shut with a satisfying click.
The weather this morning, this evening, is gorgeous. The sun is a golden orange orb peeking over the horizon, spraying a myriad of colors ranging from pinks to yellows across the rooftops of the city, dipping the morning commute in an effortless glow. It feels good on your face, the warmth, and you roll the long sleeve shirt that you wear under your scrubs up to your elbows to soak it in through your forearms too, stopping to stand still for a moment, for the first time in hours, in front of the back entrance to the hospital.
In the sun, in the light, it's easy to close your eyes and pretend that you're something, somebody else. Easy to tilt your face to the light and let it wash over you, bathe you in fire, burn you clean like a witch on a pyre.
Your watch beeps, dragging your focus to where it displays the time, a stark and devastating reminder that you have to get going, and you give the hospital one last look before beginning your trek to the train.
See you tonight.
#peaches writes#simple math#ghost x soap x reader#ghost x soap#ghoap#ghoap x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader x soap#simon riley#soap x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#simon ghost riley#cod x reader#soap x reader x ghost
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Hazbin Hotel alive au hcs
Angel and Husk are married and Niffty is their adopted kid (she just kinda showed up at their door one day)
'
Alastor runs a club called "Revive the Radio" which is basically just a group of people who are bat shit crazy about how much they love the Radio
Vaggie and Charlie run a rehab facility for all ages and Angel will come over to read to the younger teen patients
Vaggie has a hyperfixation on Pokémon Go and wanders around aimlessly with her phone out infront of her
Angel convinced Husk to play Santa at a local mall around the holiday times (husk will never admit how much he enjoys it)
Angel and Husk met in their 20s when Angel was a stripper and Husk was the bartender at the same club
Alastor went to school with Lucifer and then met Charlie later in life and IMMEDIATELY told her all the embarrassing stories about her dad
Sir Pentious owns an orphanage named "Egg Boys Sanctuary"
Carmilla Carmine also went to school with Alastor and Al still refuses to believe that little wild party bitch now has children
Alastor will show up to Husk and Angels house on the middle of the night to ask for whiskey from a very pissed Husk
Niffty is obsessed with the Disney princesses
Lucifer owns a local park and you can find him yelling at locals when they give the ducks bread
Husk was in the army for a couple years before he got injured and discharged when he was 28 and then he went to work at the club for a complete change of scenery
After he got with Husk, Angel no longer wanted to be a porn star but he still loved being an actor, so he ended up being a voice over actor for animated shows
Vox and Alastor dated before Alastor came to terms with himself being Aroace, it was 30 years ago and Vox still has a burning hatred for Alastor because Al broke up with him (al finds it funny how much Vox hates him)
Lucifer makes ducks in his spare time (he's the mayor as his actual job) and takes them to Sir Pentious's orphanage to give to the kids
I'll make more if you guys want me to
#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin hotel#angel dust hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel sir pentious#hazbin sir pentious#husk hazbin hotel#hazbin lucifer#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin charlie#charlie morningstar#hazbin niffty#nifty hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vox#egg bois#husker hazbin hotel#hazbin angel dust#hazbin hotel hcs#hazbin hotel headcanon#headcanon
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Always an Angel, Never the God Pt 2
Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Runaway!Reader
Words: 3119
After a few months alone in the sky, you find yourself with an unlikely roommate.
Tags: Gender neutral/intended Female, Runaway Reader, Angst, Unrequited love, Requited love, Heartbreak, grief
<Previous - Full - Next>
You grind your teeth, eyes watering as a heavy booted foot pushes you down further into the wooden ship floor. The ship rocks angrily as does your dragon, struggling against the barbed netting.
“Who are you? A new vigilante?” The leading trapper, Erik son of Erik or something, asked, bending down above you. He had, coincidentally, been the one to shoot you down.
“Where is your… hideout?” He leaned down into your ear at your silence, speaking in a raspy whisper. You got the vague impression he was trying to be intimidating, though the end results were more in favor of making you blush.
You were thankful for the hard wood covering your face and, therefore, your embarrassment. Of your belongings, you were only able to manage a mask and had taken to running around ensconced in furs with nothing but a dagger to your name.
You’d recon you looked much like a wild animal, straddling your nadder bare of a saddle. You had not done too well on your own. It was hard. You had always been a team player if by team player you meant a leech on society. At least, you had been told so.
So of course you had, unwittingly, stumbled onto dragon trapping territory. Extreme sport dragon trapping territory. It didn’t help that you and your nadder hadn’t been on the same page, you two being unable to sync in the way you’d seen the other riders with their dragons, which left a bitter taste in your mouth.
He’d go left when you were trying for right, and when you finally decided to just go with it, he would change his mind and throw you for a complete loop. It was safe to say that even if you got out of this mess you never wanted to step foot on his back again.
You breathed a silent sigh of relief just as the trapper let out an annoyed one, stepping off of you in favor of yelling at his men for damaging their goods. Meaning, your nadder. Was he really yours, though? He did try and make a break for it without you.
While debating whether or not you should try at the ropes shackling your arms together, you grunt frustratedly, noticing a new tear in your garb.
After running away and getting captured, you had not expected to be kidnapped again by some insane-looking madman in a mask. Though you did look like two of a kind, so it was fitting.
Your nadder had its wings torn irreparably, so, unfortunately, you had to retire him early.
You found small comfort in that it hadn’t abandoned you on the ship that one final time, though the irony that it had led you here was not lost on you.
He visited sometimes. He took to life in the sanctuary very well.
You didn’t, a borderline prisoner before you’d been able to win over the trust of the resident feral gorgon. Sort of. She was a woman who let you see her face, more on accident than anything else. You hadn’t let her see you or hear yours. However you weren’t inclined to speak of her nicely, least of all in your head, after the number of weeks you spent trapped in a cave at her behest.
Finally, you’d been let out. Let out enough to walk more than just the short stretch of stone and greenish ice that made up your prison. The endless turquoise was beginning to make you sick.
Recently, you found a real friend in the sanctuary, and this dragon, it was truly yours. Affectionately named, fed and groomed, you two were almost inseparable. It was the kind of friendship with a dragon you’d completely missed out on on Berk.
It was hard to maintain given your captive status, but that was alright.
There probably wasn’t any social profit involved in being a vigilante, which is why you assumed the crazy dragon lady had taken to speaking at you in her spare time. About the dragons, what they ate, what she had to do. Pointedly she gave away nothing of their true secrets, not that you wanted them, nor anything of her vigilant-ing. Not verbally, though the influx of injuries both on her and the dragons spoke volumes.
She did give away her name.
You groan, rubbing your eyes under your mask as you cradle the thing to your face with the other.
“You’re quite attached to your mask,” Valka said amusedly, shifting the logs roasting in the fire with a stick, pushing them back and forth as you sat in silence. You hardly ever spoke a word, nowadays.
Her dragon, the stormcutter, stared at you with large eyes through the licking flames.
Neither of you mentioned that the only real reason you’d been able to keep your mask so long was that she’d been kind enough to let you. An allowance you’d been given on a whim. One you clung to with all the nervous energy of Fishlegs to his dragon cards.
“... I’d rather not be,” You grumble, voice raspy from disuse, “It’s stuffy.”
“Oh,” Valka looked at you, amused and maybe a little surprised to hear you speak at last, before going back to tend to her fires, “I was starting to think you couldn’t speak.”
“Funny.” You said, lifting a sharpened stick off the ground, spearing it through a slimy, gutted fish from the basket beside you. Your nose wrinkled as you heard the sharp point break skin. No amount of faux stoicism could make it seem pleasant to you.
“I have a few questions,” You grimace under your mask as she asserts herself. She can ask them all she wants, but there’s no guarantee you’ll answer.
You might, probably, as keeping secrets hasn’t always been your strong suit. She’s certainly been trying to open you up for a while. You’ve not given her any leeway before though, no reason to give her any now.
“How did you tame your dragon?” She asked, pushing a particularly thick dragon searching for morsels. Valka guides its head gently away with her spare hand before any of the other dragons crowding around them get any ideas.
You wait for a moment, still wondering whether you should follow along. Eventually, you decide to answer.
“Wasn’t me. Someone else back home did it,” You huff, “I just followed along.”
“...But not very well,” Valka hums. It’s obvious she doesn’t believe you. Unfortunately for her, that is not your problem.
She pulls a small trout off her own stick, tossing it to a crowd of young dragons, who you knew had acquired a taste for the cooked, through no fault of your own.
You should feel offended, but you know she’s right. You lean away from a wandering dragon snout as it searches you for morsels. The stormcutter, after a look from Valka, shoos it away with a large wing.
“Where are you from?”
You feel the embers from the fire as they rise, the furs of your coat becoming nearly unbearable, your skin heated up rapidly. You wrinkle your brow with annoyance as you feel a drop of sweat slide down the side of your face.
“Where are you from?” You retort pointedly.
She studies you cautiously, as if she could glean your intentions from your body language. And she very well could. Or the heat was getting to you, the wells you’d spent in solitude had finally done some real damage to your psyche, and you were hallucinating.
“Berk,” She says. You sit back, surprised, “And you?”
“...None of your business.” You wonder how long it had been since she had left. You pray she would not know you.
Valka raised her eyebrow.
“I’m serious.” You ground your heel into the dirt. It was a touchy subject, still.
“Berk, too. …Stop looking at me like that.”
Valka leaned back against the ice wall where you rested, looking out over the empty ocean as dragons flooded to and fro the sanctuary. You squinted far into the distance, as if you thought you might be able to see through it if you tried hard enough.
Your hair tugged wildly by the winds out from behind your mask as you sat, one leg extended and the other bent as you leaned back against one arm.
You probably looked as you felt, weary and unkempt after a long flight over the seas with your dragon, who clambered among the icy spike-lined wall with clawed hands. You felt refreshed yet somehow at odds with yourself still.
You cared little for your bedraggled demeanor the same way you hadn’t cared for much at all in a while. It might have made a cool picture had you not slipped and fallen onto your face on the ice just a few minutes prior. Whether you had broken your nose or not on your mask had yet to be uncovered. All that mattered was that Valka hadn’t seen.
Dragons crowed. Through the cracks in the walls of the sanctuary, the wind would whistle through if it hit the right angle. Louder than anything else were the sounds of the waves crashing against rock.
But between you and Valka, it was silent. A contemplative silence, the kind of silence you shared with others after a long thought or a hard day’s work. That’s how you knew she was going to break it.
“Why did you leave?”
You are annoyed at the prospect but are no less expectant. After the moment passes, you are not surprised. However, it feels as if you are the one who should be asking.
“Why did I leave?” You ask, “Does it matter?”
A loose chunk of ice falls off the side of the sanctuary as a large titan scrambles violently down the side, chasing after a bright yellow baby. You spot a shape through the fog, distant and blurry enough to resemble a bird though there are no birds here. You pointedly do not think of your small hut, even less of green eyes, and tiny, fading freckles.
Valka tilted her head in your direction, reaching a hand out to scratch Cloudjumper under his chin as he lowered himself towards her, “It mattered to you.”
You open your mouth, but you are only able to choke on your breath. No one has ever said something like that to you, not in a long while. You don’t understand why it’s hitting you so hard. Maybe it’s the isolation.
You blame the burning of your eyes on the biting wind.
“Why did you leave?” You ask in return, once you’ve taken time for yourself, though you have an idea. You can’t keep your voice from sounding a little bit scratchy.
You unhook your dagger from your belt, trying not to seem so attentive. Instead, you take to carving random shapes into the ice. A gronkle. A nadder.
“I was taken.” She sighs, quieter now. Lost off in memory as you both often are.
The nadder’s spikes are much too long. The gronkle looks more like a sandwich than a dragon.
“Taken?” You prompt and you begin on the outline of a fury. The result is shallow and scratchy.
It’s one of your own designs, not the same as the one Berk uses. Astrid liked the other one better, not yours, so that was the one Hiccup went with.
“I didn’t leave,” She insisted, almost as if she was trying to convince herself of the fact, “I had a son, and a husband.”
You’ve seen her by the fires, while trying to sneak out of this hellish ice maze. She talks to herself then. On particularly paranoid days, she’s slept by you, in the same caverns, so you’ve heard it. She talks in her sleep and says things she would never say awake, or had you been around. It’s all so very unsettling.
“Really?” You remarked with false astonishment. The facade is flimsy, but you figured you’d give her the benefit of the doubt. The grace to assume that you’d no idea what she was on about.
With prompting, you might have seen it earlier. In her slim form, the one she kept hidden under thick furs and thicker armor. You squint. They have the same eye color. The same hair. They both have higher cheekbones, though her son more resembles his father in that aspect. That is all.
Valka shoots you a reprimanding look. Cloudjumper, now creeping down the wall behind you, taps you on the back of your head with its tail at her behest.
Valka was of the air. Though he had the same flighty tendencies, he was very grounded, like his father, though he might either be proud or loath to admit it. He loved flying, yes, but he loved inventing and processing and routine just as much, if not more.
He did when you were close. Of course he did, he spent his whole life on it. You couldn’t really say you knew him anymore.
You didn’t pin Valka as the type to enjoy the same in any sort of manner. But that suited you just as well. You found that as time went by and as you were granted more freedoms, you appreciated it. It made it easier for you to forget. To ignore.
In the end they, you and she, she and you, were one and the same.
“But what does it matter, if you never went back?” You grumble, pushing your dragon’s head away as it nudges you towards the cliff, crooning for more flying time.
You guessed that was why she clung so viciously to the safety of her sanctuary. Why she hated other people so much, why she’d had no faith in the humanity of other people, why she’d held you here so strictly. If things could have been different, then what did she give it all up for?
Though you’d never had something else. Not even the option. You’d never been given it. Valka hadn’t been given it either, but there was a sure difference between something being there and not.
The atmosphere is silent again, tainted with some darker undertones. If you’d had to put a name to it, you might have called it grief.
“I want to leave.”
Valka doesn’t look surprised at your request. And indeed, it’s been no secret that you wanted to leave. Maybe she was glad for it, or maybe she was sad at the news.
After all, you settled into each other's presence long ago. You had a good sort of companionship.
And from that companionship, you learned a lot without even trying, just by watching. Eventually she took notice and she took an active part in teaching you the truths she learned during all her years in self-imposed isolation.
You two weren’t incredibly close but you could tell Valka was grateful for the company, grateful to have someone maybe even a little bit like her, even if most of it was spent in silence.
You still left the Drago fighting for her. It wasn’t your fight, it was hers, and you made that clear.
Neither of you brought up Berk. Ever.
You were content to just come and go as you pleased, for a while. Nonetheless, despite your freedom, you felt restricted to the small world of the Sanctuary and the empty skies around it. There was no place for you on the ground or by the seas, where hunters and trappers swarmed by the thousands and Drago’s armies grew by the day.
You spent so much time learning from her and yet it felt like no time at all. Which was why you were shocked when you’d truly learned how much had come and gone in full.
You were out slinking in the shadows, seeking shelter from a storm on the same small rocky outcropping of island that had a shipful of trappers stranded, in a rage and a panic as they attempted to recover their assets. The winds had been too rough to fly, so you had no choice but to wait and listen.
You didn’t believe it at first. It had been…
Months.
You wondered if he’d been married, yet.
Years.
The idea hurt, not as much as you’d thought it would, still not as little as you’d hoped.
Under clear skies, you found an inn, untouched by everything except grass and trees.
You asked, “What day is it?”
The large man, a burly viking scrubbing down a wooden cup with a torn old rag, had looked down at you skeptically from behind a beaten pine and stone counter.
Two years. It had been nearly two years since you left Berk. Just as Valka’s attachments kept her at the Sanctuary, you needed to go. To run.
Since you had heard it, spoken it, the urge to run, to fly hadn’t abated at all, going from a wispy thought at the back of your mind to a full blown need. Your dragon too had become antsy, maybe feeding off of your nervous energy. Eager to take off, to fly new skies.
“Are you sure?” Valka asked searchingly. You two were stationed over a heavily planted cliff over a large main pool which consisted of the main cavern within the Sanctuary, once again in front of a fire, eating your own meals as the dragons below ate and exchanged fish.
You were already packed, your mask secured as it had been for all two years you had been in this place stuck between confinement and dwelling. You almost regretted it, not telling her your name, but you couldn’t bear yourself to her knowing who she was, not truly. Not until you’d washed yourself of that particular weight.
“Yes,” One day you would, if you ever saw her again. Once you were released from the heartache and pain of your own making, “I am. Thank you.”
You started out into the pale foggy sky, mounted your beast as smooth as you’d ever done, which is to say, not smooth at all. You’d only ever managed it right when Valka was watching, anyhow. It was odd how that worked, maybe the peer pressure was finally starting to kick in.
As you took off and the sanctuary became smaller and smaller both to your eyes and your mind, as the tight bundle of chains in your chest dropped and the world opened up to you once more, you felt light, and free.
Once again, there was no one to watch you and no one to hurt for besides your and your dragon. Endless opportunity. Thousands of ways to keep going.
You wondered what your face looked like.
You couldn’t wait to see it again.
#hiccup haddock#hiccup x reader#how to train your dragon#httyd#x reader#fanfiction#httyd imagine#httyd fanficiton
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Sibling Bonding
Luke
I'm scared.
The look on Simeon's face...that's going to be in my nightmares, no doubt about it.
This room is only a temporary sanctuary--and not a very good one at that--but it's the best I have at the moment.
Someone knocks on the door.
"Go away!" I yell. I don't want to see Simeon right now.
"Luke, it's okay. It's just me." Oh. It's MC. The one person that can comfort me right now.
I get off the bed and sheepishly open the door, allowing them to enter. They sit down at the desk, leaving me to return to my position on the bed.
"Are you okay?" Three simple words, and yet they're enough to make me tear up. I was trying to keep my composure in the dining car, since I knew Mammon would tease me for crying.
Speaking of which, why was he picking on me? I mean, we're far from being best friends, but as we were preparing for the trip, we both were really excited about it. He even helped me pack some of my things. So, I don't understand the sudden switch.
Unless somehow merely mentioning Michael triggered something in him, and I just happened to be the closest thing he could lash out against. But that wouldn't make much sense, either; Michael's not a bad person.
"I-I'm sorry for behaving like that in the dining car." I choke up as the tears begin rolling down my face. "I k-know I embarrassed you b-back there." MC leans forward and grabs both of my hands.
"You were reacting to someone bullying you. Perhaps you could have handled that better than you did, but you're still growing. I don't expect you to have the emotional maturity of an adult, angel or otherwise." It's strange, hearing those words. Everyone else expects me to act older and tease me if I don't, and yet they talk to me like I'm a little kid.
Not MC. Not even once.
"If anything, I ought to be apologizing to you." Huh?
"Why? You didn't do anything wrong." MC smiles slightly, gently squeezing my hands.
"Not intentionally, but nevertheless I am partially to blame for Simeon's outburst." They clearly see the confused look on my face, for they add,
"When I saw Simeon start to become irritated, I grabbed his hand to try to soothe him."
"Like you are right now with me?" They nod.
"Part of my power comes from the pacts I have with the seven Avatars of Sin. The physical connection of our hands caused that power to meet up with Simeon's frustration and give it more energy. By the time we realized what was happening, the connection became too strong for us to break it ourselves. The energy had to release itself on its own."
"Kinda like a circuit."
"Exactly."
"I didn't know you could even do that!"
"Neither did I." I don't like seeing MC sad. I know that they can't be happy all the time, but I want them to experience more good than bad. They deserve it.
Besides, how can they know something they weren't taught?
MC lets go of my hands, gets up, and starts walking towards the door.
"Wait!" They stop and turn towards me.
"Yes, Luke?" I'm not even sure if I should bring this up. It's the type of thing most people would tell me I'm too young to understand before changing the subject to something more "appropriate". It's rather annoying, actually. I hate being underestimated simply because of my age. Just because I'm young doesn't mean I'm stupid.
"There's something I've been wondering for a while now.
"Which is?" Well, here goes nothing.
"Why does Michael still care about Mammon and his brothers? I mean, they may have been angels once upon a time, but not anymore. They're demons now. They did something awful enough to warrant being cast out of the Celestial Realm."
MC's initial hesitation worries me. Are they finally going to dismiss me the way everyone else has?
"Relax, Luke. I'm not ignoring you. I'm just trying to figure out the best way to answer your question."
"Really?" MC nods.
"I may not be able to tell you everything, but that doesn't mean I can't give you some information. I mean, you're not a little kid anymore; you're old enough to know about certain things." An idea must have come to MC in that moment, for they walk back over to the desk and start rummaging through its drawers until they find a piece of paper and a pencil.
"Come on over, Luke," they instruct, sitting down. Once I'm standing next to them, they turn the paper horizontally and draw two dots on either side of it.
"Let's say that these dots represent the pinnacle of good and evil." MC writes the two words down underneath the dots. "Do you see all this empty space?"
"Yes."
"That represents all the different combinations of good and evil. Some things are easier to contribute to one or the other." MC draws some smaller dots around the two original dots. "But most things in life exist in this space in between. Am I making sense so far?" I nod my head, allowing them to continue.
"Now, there are many factors that make deciding if something is good or bad rather complicated. I think the one that's pertinent to your question is this one." MC writes down the word "love" on the paper. "As you've stated, the brothers were once angels. Would you say that the residents of the Celestial Realm act like one big family?"
"Yeah."
"Then it would make sense for Michael to feel that way about the brothers. It's hard to cut ties with people you hold near and dear to your heart, even if they've hurt you in some way."
"Then why cast them out of the Celestial Realm to begin with?" The question slips out of my mouth before I can stop myself. "I mean, if Michael loved them so much, then he should've just forgiven them." That prompts MC to write down the word "politics".
"Michael's kind of like the Vice President of the Celestial Realm, right?"
"I mean, I suppose so. I hadn't thought about it like that before."
"But you understand why I made that comparison, right?" MC looks at me expectantly, and I realize that they want me to actually explain why. They're quizzing me, in a way.
"Well, a Vice President has a lot of power, but they still have to answer to the President. The Vice President can't just do whatever they want." They smile at me.
"Very good. Now, obviously I wasn't there at the time, but I can guess that God issued the order to Michael to cast the brothers out to the Celestial Realm. If he failed to do so, then he would face punishment of some kind. Perhaps he'd be kicked out as well, or worse. Whatever it was, it was severe enough for him to decide it was better to follow orders than it was to push back against them."
"Even if he didn't want to see the brothers leave?"
"Unfortunately, yes. Love sometimes has to bow down to politics. It sucks, but life isn't always fair. It can be awfully cruel at times."
"Do you think the brothers hate angels? If so, then all of Michael's love is in vain. They'll never love him back." MC grabs my hands again.
"I think that deep down, they miss the Celestial Realm and the people in it. It's just that the love they may still have towards that place often gets clouded by other emotions."
Oh no. I'm going to be in so much trouble. I can't start second-guessing Michael's judgement. That's totally not okay.
"Luke, look at me." MC can sense that I'm freaking out. "Despite of what people tell you, you are allowed to question why things are the way they are. It's part of learning. Don't ever let anyone take your curiosity away from you."
"O-okay."
"If they have a problem with it, they'll have to go through me." They pause. "I will do everything in my power to protect you, Luke."
"Why?"
"Because you're part of my family." I let go of MC's hands, only to hug them seconds later.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"You're welcome." When we separate, I notice something on their hand that wasn't there before.
The Star of Generosity.
It suits them.
#obey me shall we date#obey me mc#obey me luke#obey me michael#i give you a pallet cleanser in the form of wholesome content#it's necessary before the next course
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👻✨👼Ghoost & Ethereal Beings Fic Recs👼✨👻
Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕
Ao3 Authors: Abliafina, Attolians, Bavarian_angel, Boasamishipper, Comin2U, Cristinuke, Dalearden, Iimpossible_things, Immature_vibes, JuliaBaggins, MyNameIsConnor, Nikkyrow, Sal_paradise, Theinsouciantknitter, Vaelsworld, WeTheWriters.
> Mythological Creatures & Shapeshifters {🤠🐓}
‼️Art Bonus, aka the reason this recs list even exists‼️ Forsty Art ==> Mav, Rooster & Ghoost – Mav & Ghoost – Rooster & Ghoost – Rooster & Ghost!Carole – Rooster & Ghoost.
Lead Me On (To The Other Side), part of the Beyond Series, by boasamishipper {T}
/Ghoost/
Goose talked to him most nights. His choice of conversation was normal — movies he’d seen, music he liked, stories about his wife and son — and sometimes Ice almost forgot that Goose was dead at all.
I Can See Our Future by Nikkyrow {T}
/Ghoost/
The ability to know what others were going to do before even they did made Jake "Hangman" Seresin a really good pilot. Made him an unbridled asshole too.
He follows the rules, don’t tell the future, don’t change the future, don’t let people know you see the future…until he doesn’t. As the mission grows closer and who won't come home becomes clearer to the psychic, Hangman learns to navigate the line between natural and paranormal with varying success.
no sanctuary (when my eyes close) by attolians {T}
/Ghosts/
“You coming tonight?”
“Of course,” Jake’s mouth says before he can catch up. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Sounds good.” Rooster smiles after another second, “I’m gonna shower but I’ll see you later.”
“Yup.”
Rooster takes a few steps closer to the showers before meeting Jake’s eyes in the mirror again.
“And, uh, thanks for the help up there.”
Jake nods.
He can’t answer with the ghost filling the other side of the mirror.
...
or, everything's the same - but Jake can see ghosts
Guardian Goose by Comin2U {T}
/Guardian Angel!Goose/
Goose didn't mean to stick around when he died. But here he was, attached to 3 people and still yelling at Mav 30 years later.
aka Guardian Angel Goose is tied to Iceman, Maverick, and Bradley and proceeds to spend 30 years yelling at all of them for being idiots in some fashion. Though only 1 of them can see him
I heard from the heavens... by JuliaBaggins {T}
/Gooserole & Icemav in Heavens/
Yes, Mav dies. BUT. The story is not as angsty as this now sounds, really not, I promise! There's lots of fluff, and a happy ending!
Maverick wakes up in the afterlife after dying from old age. There he meets Goose & Carole again - cue lots of family feels. And Mav might even get a chance to finally figure things out with a certain fellow pilot he's been dreaming of kissing for more than forty years...
Guardian Angel by vaelsworld {G}
/Ghost!Ice/
Attending his own funeral was never on Ice's plan for his life. But here he is, Maverick next to him sobbing, and Ice can't leave him. Not again.
Before Ice leaves this world once and for all, he'll make sure that Maverick will be okay.
If I could then I would throw this lifeless lifeline to the wind by sal_paradise {G}
/Ghoost/
After Mav crashes trying to save Rooster, when awakes he sees someone he never thought he's see again. His RIO is not as far away as he thought.
The Ghosts On The Shore by immature_vibes {T}
/Ghost!Icemav/
Thomas Kazansky died on a Thursday at 3:34 AM, his husband Pete Mitchell following him at the end of the month. There house was left to be rented out to Californian tourists, and was rented out by a group of seven aviators who were on a two month long vacation after a taxing suicide mission.
Jake Seresin has had too many head injuries to count, so when he wakes up one morning and heads downstairs to see a man who was definitely not a part of their squadron sitting in the living room, he's certain that his brain has officially had too much damage.
If I can't be close to you by WeTheWriters {M}
/Ghost!Rooster/
“Did you just call me, Bradley?” Are the first words out of his mouth, that lost look in his eye that bothered Jake more than it probably should, quickly morphing into one of amused curiosity.
“Why, did you change your name?” Jake smirks, immediately slipping into the familiarity of their usual back and forth, if a touch more amicable now, after everything they’ve been through.
“Nope.” Bradley screws up his face, squinting up at the sky through his fingers like it surprises him to find it there.
“Then it looks like I did.” Jake shakes his head, sort of amused too. “Now, at the risk of sounding like I’m not happy to see you, what the hell are you doing here? I thought they’ll be keeping you on lockdown for the rest of the leave at least, with how freaked out everyone on the carrier was when we landed.”
~
Jake doesn't make it in time to save Bradley and Mav in the end. He's a second too late. The missile is faster, and Jake can't come to terms with that, his mind rejecting the reality that robbed him of so much.
So Bradley conjures one last miracle - 7 days of borrowed time to make peace with it. 7 days to make up for the entire future they lost. 7 days to say goodbye.
In These Arms Tonight by bavarian_angel {M}
/Mav's Ghost!Family/
They say "meet you in the afterlife"... Maverick goes through 5 encounters over time before he is finally welcomed home.
I’ve been going out among the ghosts by iimpossible_things {T}
/Ghoost/
The problem with tequila is: it doesn't mix well with dead people...and Jake's ability to tell them apart from the living. Which is how he ends up being haunted by Nick Bradshaw, the somewhat-friendly ghost.
I can't leave him. by MyNameIsConnor {G}
/Ghoost/
It's Goose's funeral.
Mav thought that he could brave it, Carole on his right and Bradley curled up in his arms.
He knew the others were watching, Viper and Jester at his left and the thought he could stay strong.
A sob escaped him and he fell to his knees, harsh crys the only sound being let out.
Matchmaker(s), Matchmaker(s) by Cristinuke {T}
/Ghoost & Ghost!Ice/
Ice and Goose are dead, but they're still tethered to the living, specifically to Maverick. It's up to them to figure out how to close their unfinished business, and why it might include a certain admiral.
A Bridge That I Cannot Follow by theinsouciantknitter {G}
/Ghost!Carole/
The first time Jake sees her is fleeting. She's standing at the end of the hallway by their bedroom door, looking around sadly. Jake startles at the wispy woman standing in his house and then he blinks and she's gone.
Raggedy Top Gun Manor by abliafina {G}
/Ghost!Charlie/
It is said that room 86 became haunted after Nurse Charlie died in there. She worked at the Top Gun Manor - a retirement home for naval aviators - until she laid down for a nap one day and never woke up. The Manor closed down after too many reports of bumps in the night and opened up again as a haunted house.
Iceman never believed a word of it. Ghosts aren't real. Maverick, on the other hand, takes their jobs as tour guides way too seriously and it might bring them closer together than what anyone expected.
One Look From Your Eyes (And I'm Captivated) by dalearden {_}
/Ghoost/
"There’s a hand on his arm that he should not be able to feel. He thinks if he has to feel it, it should be cold.
Nick Bradshaw is warm to the touch though, of course he is, even when he shouldn’t be able to touch anything or anyone because he’s fucking dead and Jake Seresin is not... can’t be…"
Or, Jake lingers some place between life and death after a training accident and ghosts are, it turns out, ridiculous goofballs who like to matchmake.
#Ghoost & Ethereal Beings Recs List#bradley rooster bradshaw#carole bradshaw#nick goose bradshaw#pete maverick mitchell#tom iceman kazansky#🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈
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Jeans 👖
#one word prompt #Chenford one shot
REMEMBER: a one word prompt gets you a Chenford one-shot.
===========
“Don’t do it! Dad - do not do it! You DO NOT want to go in there right now. She’s kind of having a break down.” Tim stared down at his 16 year old daughter Diana, crossing his arms and widening his stance to match hers.
His baby girl who used to host tea parties with the neighbors’ dogs and her chinchillas, who used to rest her head on his shoulder when he read her bed time stories and explained the world to her, who now stood a few inches taller than her mom, with her thick wavy blond hair and her mom’s chocolate eyes brimming with mirth and laughter behind her, well his really, most intimidating TO scowl. She was gorgeous and kind and stubborn and cranky and if the rumors supplied by her younger brother were to be believed, she was secretly dating Angela’s son Mateo and she was by far, the most popular girl in school.
Diana was blocking his entrance into his and Lucy’s bedroom suite.
“I am not having a break-down!” came Lucy’s muted and slightly muffled voice from somewhere inside their bedroom.
“You know I can just pick you up and move you out of the way, right?”
“Oh really? Pff. Maybe when I was 7 and small for my age, you could grab me by my ankles and hold me upside down while telling me I was turning into a bat! I’m not gonna fall for that now!”
Tim looked down at her bare ankles and purple toenails as if considering doing that again. His back yelling at him internally to please, do not do that again.
Diana laughingly yelled back into the room, “he’s breaking through my defenses Mom! You might want to put some clothes on!”
Tim’s heart had started bursting at her laughter, because it was musical and happy like her mom and his mom, but then his eyes got big, and turned black with desire at the thought of Lucy unclothed less than 50 feet away.
Diana watched the shift in her Dad. Watching him shine love and affection down on her before shifting to something, deep, and feral, and fierce. She really enjoyed watching her Dad love her Mom. Yeah sure the PDA was over the top sometimes, but her parents without words had shown their kids that, deep, all-consuming love, affection and respect were possible and attainable. And worth it.
Then, with cat-like reflexes, Tim reaches forward and steps into a hug with Diana, wrapping his long arms around her, holding her close. Then before she could sink into the hug, he blows a raspberry on her neck and tickles her on her sides having effectively boxed her in with little wiggle room. Diana shrieks with laughter and instead of fighting like usual, tries the reflexive dead weight trick Aunt Nyla had shown her last week, sliding effortlessly out of his grasp to the ground before crab-crawling away and popping up again. “I’m immune to your tricks old man!”
Tim nods and points back at her with a huge grin while silently thanking both Angels and Nyla for suggesting the self-defense classes for Diana.
He then turns and enters his sanctuary - the part of the house where he feels the most at peace and at home because Lucy is here. Even after all these years, she makes his heart pound, his pulse race, and drives him crazy with desire. She’s his home in this building - their home.
“Luce - where are you love?”
“In here and yeah, I kind of am having a break-down.”
Tim pivots and heads to their walk in-closet to find Lucy sprawled on the floor in a navy blue t-shirt bra and boy short panties, one arm covering her eyes, and what looks like every pair of jeans they own strewn around her. She had been looking for something jeans related but now lay on the floor quietly crying.
Tim quickly lies down beside her and kisses her clavicle, right below where his very first Valentines Day gift still hangs around her neck. He’s given her quite a lot of jewelry over the years, but this simple gold circle on its delicate gold chain is worn almost every day since she got them.
“Honey, what’s with the jeans explosion? Aren’t you supposed to be at some garden party somewhere?”
“Yes, TJ’s school fundraiser garden party. I was there, wearing my favorite sunflower dress the one I always wear on Mother’s Day. But I was sent home for not wearing the ‘approved attire’ - jeans, a white top and a stupid garden hat covered in flowers. Apparently, I looked better than the hostess so she sent me home to change. That group clearly is still living in junior high. Ugh. It’s not my fault she’s a mean, angry, fat cow, that only fits into elastic-waisted jeans.”
“So then I get home, come up here and angrily start putting on jeans. And none of them fit! Not even my default safety jeans. The last time this happened I was pregnant with TJ. So I called the doctor to find out if that was even possible and she said no, it’s more likely due to the beginning of menopause. Then I started spiraling, thinking I’m turning into a blob who can only wear elastic wasted jeans. I understood Marjorie’s anger and then the tears came and they won’t stop. Your sexy wife is turning into a blob!”
Tim grabs Lucy and rolls them so she is laying on top of him, her head resting on his chest, and wraps his arms around her while kissing her temple. He holds her to him, lightly stroking her back, letting her cry it out. Over the years, they’ve mastered reading each other and silently communicating the kind of love and support needed in any situation. Right now Lucy needs quiet comfort.
When her breathing finally evens out and her tears stop flowing, Tim kisses her temple and says, “What did your Mom look like at your age? Your grandmothers? I don’t think I’ve ever seen elastic-waisted pants on any female in your family going back generations. Your DNA - your genes- are not programmed that way.
Which kind of is a bummer for me, because belt free, zipper free jeans? Hell yeah! A faster, easier way to get you naked? Sign. Me. Up! Why haven’t you been wearing those from the get go?
By now that’s hours, days, possibly weeks of extra naked time we missed out on because your jeans didn’t have an elastic waist band. I’m gonna sue for restitution - money, so I can take my honey on a multi-month, around-the-world-trip! A naked-time world tour, if you will.”
“You are ridiculous.”
“What I am, is stupidly, madly, deeply and completely head-over-heels in love with you. You could lose all your limbs and be a head and torso in a box and I would still be in love with you.”
“Oh god. We never should have watched that awful movie. A ‘Boxing Helena’ reference is not making me feel more attractive.”
“Ooh, but you know what will? My sex-on-a-stick husband romancing me tonight, on our back deck with candles, and fresh flowers, and something yummy on the grill. You can wear your khaki shorts and one of your snap shirts, and I can wear my sunflower dress. And you can unwrap me later.”
Tim immediately sits them both up, leans forward and kisses her silly. He is getting lucky tonight! (Well, really, he’d been lucky for a very long time).
“Diana! Grab your brothers and go to the Evers compound for the rest of the weekend- your mom and I need some time alone!”
#chenford#tim bradford#lucy chen#the rookie#tim x lucy#one word prompt#jeans#one word prompt = chenford one shot#andrea writes#i'm in chenford withdrawal#things that are awesome
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His Sanctuary
Belphegor x (gn) Mc
Depressive/fluffy themes
Hope you enjoy dear readers
Another day, another migraine, right? Or at least that's how he was currently feeling.
For some reason, his brothers were being extra irritating today. It's not like they all never fought before, but Belphie would argue that they had a current good streak going on. That is, except for today.
It's started with Lucifer, he had scolded him again for missing classes due to sleeping in most days. He, of course, complained to the older explaining how studying was taking up so much of his sleeping hours. All he got was a big "I don't care" and was sent off.
His mood considerably ruined, he initially wanted to take refuge with his twin. He usually listened to his rants about their brother. But when he did that, guess what? His brother agreed with Lucifer! It was like the world was against him! Beel had just shrugged and took another bite of his burger, watching his twin turn his back to him.
The youngest had a short temper that came out when least expected. It was showing off today as he begrudgingly did some studying in the library thanks to his twin's no good advice. He had a lot to catch up on from missed classes. But it all was a big headache to him.
He felt so much expectation. But he couldn't help it! He doesn't think his brothers understand his inner turmoil. Some days.... Some days are just, hard. Hard to get out of bed, and not because he loves sleeping so much. Hard to talk to anyone, even his twin. Hard to act like he's listening. It's all so much, some days he just can't do it.
How is he supposed to explain all of that? There was no clear reason as to why, it just was. It made him sink down into his arms, his papers long forgotten as he could feel a small ache of pain near his temples. God, would he love to just knock out here in the middle of the library. And he really would have - if it wasn't for a gentle pair of hands at his shoulders that lightly shake him.
He turned his head up to see who had disturbed him, but he found.... You.
Ah, right, it had been a few days since he had gotten to spend time with you. While he was busy sleeping, you were actually busy doing what he was supposed to do, diligently going to classes and studying. He regrets having to meet you like this. His lips turned down when he noticed the shocked expression on your face.
"What?"
"Oh, love..." He suddenly felt those same hands cup his face, a finger wiping away a stray tear he hadn't even felt. Mc always held him like he was something so delicate, so small. Even though he disliked being treated as such, with you it just felt right. Maybe it was ok to be babied sometimes. Only sometimes.
He leaned into the touch, his own hand coming up to hold around yours as he let out a few more tears from the corner of his eyes.
"What's wrong? Did something happen? Not enough sleep last night?" It was the way you took care of him. The way you put him first, not those stupid classes, and that trashy homework. He almost forgot that he could always come to you if he needed. He sniffed softly, following your hand as it moved to stroke through his hair.
"Lucifer yelled at me. And I have a headache..." The small smile on your lips told him you wanted to laugh, but you held it in. He appreciated that. Next thing he knew he was being guided out of his chair and out into the hall.
"Come on, let's go back your bed. Sleeping off headaches usually helps." You said it like a fact, and he couldn't help but smile.
"And we can cuddle too. With your big silky pillows... double blankets... I can scratch your back if you want me to." You offered, like the absolute angel you were to him. It all sounded pleasant in his ears as you whispered softly, because it was only for him to hear. He hummed, now moving a bit more ahead of you before you reached his shared room with Beel. The other was currently out doing his own thing, so the room was all his for the time being.
"Will you really scratch my back?" Belphegor asked, wiping at his eyes to rid of any water lining his lids. His headache felt more apparent since he had cried a few minutes ago. He watched as you smiled, pulling back the blankets to his bed and patting his usual spot.
"Of course, anything for you my love. Hurry, get in here!" He didn't have to be told twice. He silently made his way over, getting comfortable in bed and letting you tuck him in as if he were a child. You spoiled him rotten, even if sometimes he was just a brat, and that was just one of the many many things he loved about you.
He felt the bed dip with you being added in, and the blankets pulled off him just enough so you could reach his back. Your nails weren't sharp like his, and your touch was delicate. When you scratched over his back, occasionally dipping your hand into his shirt to scratch at his skin, he felt himself melting into your touch. It was addicting, the way you managed to get him to unravel himself and just let him sink deeper into whatever this comfortable feeling was.
"...Do you want to talk about it? Or is this enough?" Your voice made him smile, in all honesty he already had his eyes shut and mind drifting. You were just that good at taking care of him. He curled his body inward to get into a more comfortable fetal position. That was usually how he slept.
"No.... This is enough. Thank you Mc." The back scratches were great, perfect even. But before Belphegor had fallen victim to sleep, he didn't forget to roll over on his other side to face you, pulling you flush against himself for those cuddles you mentioned.
You didn't miss the way he breathed in your scent, his lips against the top of your head. And then again, a few goodnight kisses because you definitely deserved them.
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KINDRED SPIRITS - PART 6
summary: carl comes to the sanctuary on a mission, which just so happens to be the same mission as you; kill negan. chaos ensues and an escape is made
daryl dixon x reader
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5
You steadied your breathing as you rested against the door, allowing yourself to smile. Seeing Daryl, being able to hold him, gave you the push you needed. You were going to put an end to this, at the right time. You quickly pulled a dress on that you thought Negan would like, needing him controlled for this to work. You did your makeup and hair at a rapid pace, before picking up your book, the one holding the knife within his casing. You waited patiently until he got back. Just as he stormed into the room, you pretended to put your book away, closing the cover to place it next to your spot on the couch. "You're back," you beamed, but he didn't seem to smile back as he usually did,
Something had happened. You stood from the couch, putting your hand out to move towards him but he stepped away furiously making you halt your movements, watching his demeanor confusedly. He alternated between his serious expression and a scoffing laugh, as he licked his teeth in amusement, pacing in front of you. "W-what's wrong?" you built the courage to ask, unsure now if your fear was put on or not. "Oh. A lot. A lot is wrong, angel," he seethed, stopping his pacing to look at you, smiling evilly. You stared back at him with wide eyes. "I just had a run in with that little cowboy kid out in the yard. Turns out he managed to slip past 2 of my soldiers and hid in one of the vans," he yelled, waving his arms around, making you nervous as one of his hands was still holding Lucille,
"And he pulled a gun on me. He pulled a gun on ME," he raved, gesturing towards himself in disbelief with a scoff. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you heard him say that Carl was here. You worried if he was okay or not. You didn't have to worry much longer, before you heard the door slam open behind you, revealing Carl with his arms being held behind his back by a Savior as he thrashed around, before his eyes landed on you, eyes blowing up in surprise. You mirrored his expression, scanning him up and down worriedly. "Y/N?" he muttered incredulously, relieved to see you but not so much under the circumstances. "Put him here and get out," Negan yelled, pointing to the couch opposite you, as the Savior obeyed, quickly running out the door, locking it behind him after seeing Negan's rare irate state,
Carl was sitting furiously on the couch now as you stood parallel to him still, trying to get closer to Negan to attempt to calm him down. "And Carl here, is not the only one who took a little trip today. I've heard you've had a busy adventure today," Negan whispered now, venom laced in his voice as he watched you struggle to answer him, trying to come up with anything to absolve you of the accusations thrown at you. When you said nothing, staring at him dumbfounded, he laughed loudly, making you and Carl jump. "See Dwighty boy told me a few stories from today. Apparently," he yelled, now pacing back and forth once again, "he saw you skulking away from Daryl's cell after he got back from his mysterious run today,"
You gave him an innocent look, trying to tug on his heart strings, if they even existed. "You really believe that, I would nev-" you began to defend yourself, before he suddenly threw the barbed bat across the room in a raging outburst. You flinched cosiderably now, your hands shaking as he trudged towards you, stopping in front of your face. "Tell me the truth. Did you pay our little prisoner a visit?" he shouted furiously, as all fear you had dissipated almost instantaneously. You couldn't help yourself as you smirked in his face. "Yes," you spat out, watching as his face fell, some part of him believing Dwight had been bluffing. His dismayed look only lasted a moment before his hand swung behind him, backhanding you forcefully,
You were sent to your knees from the blow as you yelped, your cheek stinging. You didn't care. You would've done the same thing a million times over. "No!" Carl yelled, standing up moving towards you, in a fit of rage, his nostrils flaring slightly as he breathed heavily. Carl had always acted as a brother to you and you had always treated him like your brother. Before he could get anywhere close to you, Negan had swiped Lucille off the floor, pointing it at his head. "Woah there cowboy," he teased, chuckling at his reaction, as he tipped Carl's hat slightly with the bat. Carl glared at him, standing up straighter in an attempt to look more intimidating. "I might have to set a few more examples toward the people in your group so that this type of shit doesn't happen a second time," Negan threatened, as your face paled, wanting to yell at him, beg him not to,
You pushed yourself off the floor, standing up now, wiping a small trickle of blood that spilled from the corner of your lip. "You're not gonna touch her again, and you're not going to kill anyone in our group. I know that, and you know that. Because if you were going to, you would've done it already," Carl grunted, moving right up to Negan now, making you nervous for him. Negan licks his teeth slowly, staying silent a moment, gazing up and down at him, taking in his protective demeanor as you did, still shaking from the shock of the hit and the slap itself. The tension was palpable as you tried not to even breath too loud. "See, I thought I told you, Carl," Negan started in a menacing whisper, looming over him, "threatening is a no-no." With one swift movement, he had grabbed Carl's forearm before either of you could say anything, watching as he dragged him passed you to the door, opening it to throw him forwards towards the Savior guarding the door, who grabbed him as he thrashed and squirmed around, not wanting to leave you alone with Negan,
"Get him downstairs into the truck. We're going to take a little road trip to our good friends in Alexandria," Negan clammered loudly as you watched Carl disappear from your view as Negan shut the door. You stared at the door still in disbelief, feeling tears well in your eyes at the thoughts of what would happen to both Carl and the Alexandrians when we went to visit him. He walked towards you, circling you slightly, like a predator looking at it's prey dangerously. Though you didn't even look at him, tears flowing freely now as you stared at the floor. Negan tutted disappointedly as your head whipped around to look at him through teary eyes in shock. "Such a damn shame. 2 people paying for your actions today, and neither of them are you. The irony," he laughed evilly as he sauntered towards the drink cart against the wall, back to you now,
Your heart raced at his statement, tears stopping now. "What did you do?" you seethed, as he giggled at your tone. "Well as soon as I introduced Carl to our humble abode, Dwight told me all about the mischief you got up to while I was out. Daryl of course kicked up a bit of a fuss once I told him what I was going to do to you as a consequence of your actions. As I said before, he's smitten for you. Dwight just silenced him a bit, can't have him having little outbursts like those. But now I know that hurting him is a better idea. Keeps you in line a bit more. So Daryl will be paying for your grave mistake for a few days to come for sure anyway," he explained wickedly, knowing this was making you angry. Your chest rose and fell in fury as you thought of Carl heading back to Alexandria, God knows who taking the flack for his and yours own missions today. Then you thought of Daryl getting tortured again because of you,
'Not anymore,' you thought to yourself, your fists clenching in fury as you watched him pour his drink now, his back to you. A thought spurred into your mind through the anger that was coursing through your veins. Before you could stop yourself, your hands had moved slowly and carefully to pull the knife you had hid in your book, clenching it in your strong grasp, eyes landing on his back. As he ranted about what he was going to do to Daryl to punish him for your actions, it only fuelled you on more, as your breathing quickened, your chest warming, as if there was a ball of fire contained in it. You couldn't hold yourself back anymore. You narrowed your stare, walking up behind him. It was now or never,
Through his ranting he hadn't noticed you stepping to stand behind him now. In a split second movement, you brought your arm back, lip trembling with the animosity of a wild animal, thrusting the knife forward, driving it towards his back to stab it through his heart, but you were stopped. Your adrenaline started to deplete, the energy you were stimulated and controlled by dying down. You came back to reality, feeling his hand grabbing your wrist as your tears that were unknowingly in your eyes the entire time, spilling down your face as your mouth slacked agape, wondering why the knife hadn't impaled his skin. You stared down to see that in the quick movement of him turning to stop your attempt to kill him, you had managed to get a lick of your own in, seeing a slice on his bicep,
Negan had looked up from his finished drink to see the reflection of you with the knife in the shiny metallic bucket of champagne and ice that sat on the drink caddy. You had never seen Negan afraid before now, as he hastily swiveled just in time, to stop you, firm grip holding the wrist containing the knife now, glancing down at your fierce expression, both of you standing completely still. Once you realized that it didn't work, you attempted to push the knife forward again, it only being mere centimetres from his heart when he stopped it. But his grip tightened even more so easily pushing your hand anyway. You blinked through your tears as his expression darkened making you fearful. He gazed down at the sting he hadn't noticed from his arm, seeing blood pouring through where his thin leather jacket had been cut, in a straight slice on his muscles. He looked at you, clearly enraged,
With his anger, his grasp on you worsened as you yelped, his grip getting tighter and tighter until it became too much, your face contorting in pain as you finally relented your hold, the knife clattering to the floor with a crash. You gazed into his eyes, unsure whether you were still enraged, upset, scared. You were all of those things anymore. You had blown your chance. His face still stood in shock, eyes darting to the steak knife, to the now open book showing a hidden compartment, and finally to your face. His breath hitched before he shook his head, mouth upturning in a vicious, devil-like grin,
Finally he moved, pulling you towards the door with his grip on your wrist. You gasped at the sudden movement, as you could do nothing but follow after him, trying to keep up as he pulled you down flights of stairs fiercely, meeting a few Saviors whose eyes widened at the shock. You watched the lights blur as you tried to focus anything as you were dragged through hallway after hallway as he stormed ahead of you, holding you in tow, tugging you a bit harsher as he walked. "You know, I really hate to do this, sweetheart. You're so hot but you're so unhinged at the same time. If you didn't try kill me just now, I'd almost be attracted to it," he laughed, his amusement slightly back after his surprise subsided, trying to act as though he wasn't still reeling from your twist in behavior,
You said nothing, still struggling to keep up, before you turned a corner, seeing the cell doors that you had seen only hours before. Once they came into your view, you stopped walking to which he turned around, not seeming phased by your frightened look. "C'mon," he urged teasingly, pulling you harshly as you started tugging away now, trying to escape him. "No please. No!" you screamed out, "Please. Stop. Don't." but he passed you no heed as you reached one of the doors now, one of the Saviors unlocking it now upon a nod from Negan. With one swift move, he tugged you back slightly to all but throw you into the cell, falling to your knees,
Before you could turn to stand up and move to the door, you saw his smirking face as you were faced with the cold steel door now, darkness flooding your vision, except for the slight line of light shining in from the bottom of the door, seeing the shadow of his two boots standing there, the two infamous boots that you had seen during the line-up as you attempted to escape his gaze, looking down. You slammed your hands on the door now. "Negan. Let me out. Please," you cried out, knowing there was nothing you could do to help yourself or Daryl from behind a cell door. He only chuckled in response. "No can do, princess. You'll be serving your sentence in there. Trying to kill me? Not cool," he stated coolly, resentment now evident in his tone, furious that you had almost gotten the upperhand on him,
"Please, I'm sorry I-" you cried out, before you were interrupted by him tutting. "Apologies aren't gonna work right now sweetheart. I have to go take a spin to Alexandria right now. We'll take more about this little outburst when I get back," he replied smugly, as you heard him walk away, giving up on shouting for him to come back, knowing he was leaving no matter what. You collapsed to the floor onto your knees, letting your body wrack with sobs as you cursed yourself for ruining your one shot at freedom for Daryl,
Negan strolled down the hallway with 2 Saviors flanking his sides. As he sighed loudly, his stress heightened by the 2 situations that had just unfolded, making his way through the facility. As he turned the corner, Daryl came into his vision from where he stood, mopping, eyesight deadset on the floor as he remained stoic. Dwight stood aboce him, crossbow held in front of his body as he watched him. Daryl's hands shook as he struggled to stay standing upright after the beating he had taken from Dwight and 2 of the other Saviors, wounds littering his face and bruises covering his body under the dirty sweatshirt and sweatpants. "Daryl," Negan drawled dramatically, putting his arms out mockingly, "if it isn't my favorite prisoner." Daryl stopped his task, but his head still hung low, refusing to look at Negan,
"Listen, I saw how worried you were about Carl earlier. So I've decided to take him home. Safe and sound," Negan offered, fake sympathy in his tone, as he pointed out the window to the van he was on his way to as they spoke. Daryl only stared back at him, nonverbal, jaw clenched. Unsatisfied with his lack of reaction, Negan swung Lucille in his hand, moving closer towards him. "Unfortunately, I can't say the same for my wife. See, I heard about the little frolic you had in secret earlier. I mean, she went a bit crazy on me when I confronted her about it. I just don't know what happened. You've got yourself one psycho bitch, Daryl," Negan laughed, as he barely got the last few words out, as Daryl lunged for him, being stopped forcefully and quickly by the 2 accompanying Saviors,
He grunted as he was pushed to the floor, held down with his arms behind his back, not giving up despite his wounds combined with being outnumbered. "What the fuck did you do to 'er, jackass?" he yelled furiously, thrashing around on the floor. Negan crouched down now, smiling widely at his tantrum. "Oh she's just in time out right now, just until I get back from my trip to Alexandria. Don't worry, I'll have good chat with her when I come back," Negan whispered, as he stood back up just as Daryl tried to launch himself on the ground to him again, almost successfully, but the two soldiers caught him just in him, tightening their hold making him wince as the bruises he had were poked and prodded by their grip,
"Dwight," Negan calls out, with a wide smile, as Dwight perks up now, "I think Daryl needs a time out just like his little girlfriend." Dwight nodded as he hauled Daryl up, pulling him towards the direction of the cells, leaving the mop and the bucket discarded on the ground. Negan told the other 2 Saviors follow them for good measure in case he tried anything stupid as Daryl didn't take his gaze off of Negan. "You touch her and I swear to God," he yells as Dwight shoves the shaft of the crossbow into his abdomen making him hiss and grunt in pain, all the while Negan laughed, waving at him as he was hauled away, before strutting towards the van outside, getting in beside Carl, who sat there with a livid expression,
Daryl was thrown into his cell as he punched the wall, running his hand through his hair worriedly, annoyed that you had been caught, that you were being held in a cell somewhere. He wracked his brain for ideas as he sat down, sliding down the wall, his bruises and scars practically screaming at him as he groaned from the pain, clutching his side where he had just been hit. He was slowly getting angrier and more uncontrollable as he tried to think of what to do to help you, to save you. But he was helpless to do anything, allowing a few stray tears to fall down his face as he sat in the darkness,
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MEANWHILE.....
Your tears had stopped now, as you leaned against the wall, staring into the dark abyss for what felt like hours, but might've only been minutes. You weren't sure anymore. You worried for Daryl, for Carl, for Rick, Michonne, Rosita, all of the Alexandrians as you felt sick to your stomach, uneasy in your thoughts. Suddenly, you heard the lock click making you gasp in shock as the door swung open, light flooding in, as you lifted your hands to your face to shield your eyes from the bright fluorescent light and the incoming person. You pushed yourself further back into the corner of the cell, as you heard them turn on the light, your eyes adjusting now, before stepping in to close the door, just the two of you now,
"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you," you heard a woman's voice whisper, not wanting to frighten you any further. At the kind voice, you tilted your heard up seeing a woman in a black dress, as she slowly crouched down to be at eye level with you now, sitting herself down. "My name is Sherry. Negan told me to come in here and patch up your lip before he left," she said with a slight smile, trying to make you relent your tense position on the floor. Slowly, realizing she wasn't any sort of threat and not holding any weapon, unless she planned to strangle you with bandage, you relaxed your shoulders, letting your arms fall to your sides,
She gave you a certain look, asking if it was okay to come closer, to which you nodded, not so hesitant anymore. You sat there silently, as she began to wipe at your cut from when Negan had struck you. You eventually built up the courage to say something now as her delicate touch carressed your skin. "W-who are you?" you asked, but after seeing her perplexed look, you continued, "I know you said your name was Sherry. I mean. I meant what are you doing here? Are you a Savior too?" Sherry laughed lightly, though she didn't mean it to sound mocking, as she looked at you who didn't laugh along with her. "I'm one of Negan's wives. He might've mentioned you weren't the only one, right?" she asked gently, as you nodded. "Yeah he um, he told me about yous," you replied, a little more easygoing now, as you let yourself smile a little, feeling guilty for being so hostile towards her, though smiling was difficult as she disinfected your cut,
"Me and the other girls were dying to meet you. It always feels comforting to know there are more just like you. But Negan told us we weren't allowed," she explained, with a bummed expression. You felt a bit happier at the thought of having someone who felt just like you next to you. "Are you here by choice?" you asked. "No, more so coerced into being here," she answered with a shake of her head, looking disappointed. You nodded, as you sat in comfortable silence as she stitched up your cut, hissing in pain on more than one occasion. "I'm sorry, I'm almost done," she'd apologize, as you gave her a small smile. Once she had finished, she packed up the stuff she had brought. "I better go back to the others," she said regretfully,
Before she could stand up, you grabbed her hand, tenderly, hand shaking slightly. She looked at you with concern. "Wait," you blurted out, as she nodded, sitting back down from where she was crouched. "What's wrong?" she asked genuinely, you almost cried hearing the first ounce of real care or sympathy you had heard since you had arrived. "I need your help. Please," you begged as she sighed remorsefully. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help you escape, even if i wanted to," she confessed, squeezing your hand slightly to show you how much she wanted to aid your escape, but couldn't, as sorrowful as she felt seeing your condition. "You're being heavily guarded. I'd never be able to slip you past them without getting you caught," she reasoned, sorry she couldn't help,
"What if there was someone else you could help. For me," you pleaded, as she nodded ready to hear you out. "Daryl. My- my um..." you started, not even knowing what to call him after so much confusion, "my friend. He's in a cell just like this one." Sherry's face dropped and her skin went pale as it was your turn to look at her worriedly. She looked down, and you noticed how her eyes filled with water, puzzled by this. "You know Daryl?" she asked just above a whisper, so much that if it weren't for her being so close, you wouldn't have heard her. "Yeah, why?" you questioned warily now as you looked at her. But it was only then that you looked at her properly, your heart dropping,
"It's... you," you stated in disbelief, recognizing her as the woman who had been with Dwight when they had stolen Daryl's bike and betrayed the two of you in the forest that time. She was Dwight's wife. The wife of the man who had and still was torturing your husband, who had killed your friend Denise, who ratted you out to Negan about going to see Daryl, the very reason you were in here. Your shock had shifted to anger and Sherry saw that as she she gazed at you pleadingly, as she watched you put 2 and 2 together in your head. "You-" you started to yell but her hand flew to your mouth, covering it as you went to push it off. "No, please, just hear me out," she begged, as your chest rose and fell heavily, angrily,
You remembered back to her kindness only moments ago, stitching you up so gently, when you both didn't recall who the other was. You held onto that delicateness she had shown to a complete stranger, calming your breathing as you forced yourself to realize that she was nothing like her husband. You nodded reluctantly as she waited a moment, before slowly removing her palm from your mouth, keeping her hands in front of her. "I don't support anything that Dwight has done, I promise. I've tried to tell him to stop torturing Daryl when he didn't need to. He didn't listen. I'm not like him," she practically begged, sorry in her voice as she urged you to listen,
You dismissed her with a 'pfft,' not believing her sob story as you tried to pull your hand from hers, but she held it tighter, placing her other hand on top of yours to urge you to believe her. "It's true," she insisted, as your anger melted away, knowing deep down that she was genuine, as you tried not to punish her for the actions of Dwight. "Prove it. Prove to me that you're not like him. Help me. Save Daryl," you answered, a bit more kindness in your voice now as you held her hand tighter. She contemplated for a moment. "If that's what it takes. I'll help him. I promise," Sherry assured, as you looked at her gratefully. "Thank you," you acknowledged, as you smiled at her to which she reciprocated it as she stood up,
Before she left, she turned around to you, her smile gone for a moment. "I am sorry about that time in the forest. Truly," she apologized. "It's okay," you whispered with a smile, as she was grateful for your forgiveness. She turned the light off, closing the door, leaving you in darkness once again. You smiled to yourself, hoping that Sherry could get Daryl out of here somehow. You didn't care what happened to you now, as long as he was safe. You finally let yourself doze off now, sleep coming to you much easier now that you knew Daryl could escape,
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MEANWHILE....
Daryl sat in the murky cell, unsure how much time had passed since he was thrown in there. He couldn't steer his thoughts away from you as he worried where you were, in what kind of a state you were in. Just as his stomach felt uneasy again, thinking of you, he heard a sound next to him. He looked over to see a piece of paper being slid under the door. He glanced at it confused for a moment, before picking it up. He read the words 'go now,' feeling something on the back of the page as he flipped it over to reveal a key taped to the back,
Daryl's heartrate quickened, knowing this was somehow your doing. He wondered whether he should go looking for you in the cells, unsure which one or on which floor you were even in. He thought that it may have been you slipping the note under the door, and that you had made your way out or were in the process of making your way out of the Sanctuary. If he couldn't find you outside, he'd go back looking for you. He smiled as he thought of you, somewhat amazed by your resourcefulness since you had gotten here, though he had always known you to get your group out of sticky situations very often, with walkers or even with people. You were a problem solver,
He stood up quickly, wanting to reunite with you as he listened for a moment, hearing it was clear. He opened the door carefully, before darting down the hallway, stopping to look around corners occasionally, dodging Saviors eye contact in a few near misses as he nearly got caught a few times. He was halfway down the final hallway, before he heard footsteps and 2 voices approaching. His heart dropped as his eyes darted around, landing on a door, opening it slowly, hoping there was no one in there; there wasn't, as he shut the door behind him, breathing out a sigh of relief as he heard the voices and steps get quieter and quieter,
His gaze landed on a jar of peanut butter as his hunger overcame him, not eating a proper meal in days. He scarfed down a few licks before pulling his uniform off, to pull a different set of clothes on at a rapid pace. He moved around the room, placing a baseball cap on his head to further his disguise as he looked around, as his eyes landed on a wooden figurine that looked familiar; Dwight. This was his room. Daryl's face hardened as anger coursed through his veins. He was going to kill him somehow. Daryl huffed as he moved to the door, opening it and peeking out stealthily, seeing noone. He took his chance, running out of the room, being as quiet as possible as he saw the exit in view,
A container of steel poles stood beside the door, and he hastily grabbed one, clutching it in his fist, as he swung the door open, squinting slightly at the sun as he closed it. His tired eyes scanned the yard, looking between the vehicles, trying to spot you. His heartrate accelerated as he continued to search for you amongst the cars and the motorbikes, wondering why you weren't here. Maybe it wasn't you who had written the note or orchestrated the escape; but if not you, then who? He wasn't leaving without you. Just as Daryl turned to make his way back into the Sanctuary, he heard a gasp come from behind him,
Daryl had whirled around in an instant, his expression darkening as he saw 'Fat Joey' standing there quivering, raising his arms in surrender. Daryl walked towards him menacingly. "W-whoa, please. I'm just trying to get by, j-just like you," he sputtered nervously. Daryl didn't hesitate, swinging the pole to deliver a harsh blow, then another, then another, then another; until he was dead. He wasn't sure how long the voice had been calling, but he heard someone calling his name through his attack. He expected it to be you, standing there, calling out for him. His head whipped up however, to see Jesus standing there, eyes widened in shock at what he had just witnessed Daryl do,
Daryl dropped the blood-covered pole to the floor, storming towards Jesus, who stood back in fear. "Where is she?" Daryl grunted as Jesus' mouth opened and closed in confusion as to who Daryl was talking about. "Who are you t-" Jesus began to ask calmly, trying to steady Daryl's anger. "Y/N. Where is she? I ain't leavin' here without her," Daryl yelled now, Jesus' eyes blowing up in anxiety even more, not wanting Daryl's shouting to alert the Saviors and draw them out here. He was focused on getting back to Alexandria somehow when he had found Daryl, not even supposed to be here if it wasn't for Carl, and now he was determined to get both of them back in one piece. "She's in the car already. I came to find you," Jesus lied, hoping Daryl would believe him,
Daryl breathed a sigh of relief, but not for long, as he rushed towards the car that Jesus had pointed at. In his flurry, he threw Jesus the keys that had been stuck to the piece of paper, knowing he was in no fit state to drive with his wounds. Jesus caught them, clambering quickly into the driver's seat as Daryl jumped into the passenger seat, closing the door, quickly whipping his head around to look into the backseat, seeing it empty. Before he could say or ask anything, Jesus took his averted gaze as his advantage, slamming the butt of his gun into Daryl's temple harshly, effectively knocking him out as he slumped onto the seat,
"Sorry Daryl," Jesus apologized, even though Daryl was passed out, "better to save one person than get all three of us caught. Jesus knew that if they had gone back in there for you, not even knowing where you were, with zero backup, yous would have never made it out of there. Jesus drove speedily back to Hilltop, occasionally stealing a glance at Daryl, to make sure he was still passed out. He dreaded to think what he would do to him when he woke up. He just had to get back to Hilltop before Daryl woke up
PART 7 COMING SOON ;) let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3 hope you enjoyed!
TAGLIST: @onlyheretoread2 @lothiriel9 @iheartyouyou
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon imagine#the walking dead#daryl dixon x reader#twd#twd daryl#twd fanfiction#daryl dixon x y/n
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Nacken, The Dancing Fool
He once was just an ordinary, but troubled, soul who just wanted to share his love for music with the whole world. Although an ordinary man, he wasn't considered “normal” amongst the local town folks. As a child, he often broke out into dance every time he heard music walking down the streets, and inevitably got the nickname “The Dancing Fool”. Ever since he has been mocked by the people of the town, his hate towards them has been growing steadily. He slowly became more and more isolated with only his love for music keeping him company. Music became his sanctuary.
One day, our ordinary man needed to get out of his isolated home to get some food from the town he had rejected for so long. He needed to silence his hunger. And apart from delicious food, there was one other thing in that God forsaken place that he actually looked forward to - a beautiful, angelic-like girl managing the food stand. She had always been warm and kind towards him, even if others in the village were not. So he took the courage, ventured out, but it wasn’t too long before he started getting harassed and beaten by the people in town. They repeatedly yelled at him to dance like the fool he is. And suddenly, something broke inside this ordinary man. Hehad had enough of the put downs, and he craved revenge. He picked himself up and told the beautiful woman by the food stand not to come to the town by the end of two weeks from now.
During these two weeks he was practicing his violin, neglecting any other health needs, slowly deteriorating and submerging into his own music. He needed to suffer to succumb to the power that music could give him. When the two weeks passed, he went into town with only one goal in mind - vengeance. Once he reached the town square, people started to gather around him. He picked up his violin and before anyone could approach him he started playing. When the music started, all the people in the town began to dance, uncontrollably. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t stop. Eventually, they all danced themselves to death. Our now not so ordinary man was so lost in playing his violin that, when he eventually stopped playing, all he could see were piles and piles of dead bodies around him. His vengeance was complete. What he wasn’t prepared to see was that the beautiful girl from the food stand was also amongst the dead. Although he asked her not to come to town that day, it seems she didn’t listen - and he didn't notice. With a huge amount of guilt and pain in his heart, he left the town for good to wander off deep into the woods, and all he carried with him was his violin.
If you hear a sweet tune in the woods, it could be the Nacken playing your last song…
I will tell you another story soon my Dear. Now it’s time for bed. And whatever you do, do not go into the forest at night.
Sweet dreams.
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🎧 #STRAY_KIDS: friendship styles!
🚏 safe place: This one was obvious from the start. Chan didn’t even have to try and make himself a safe place; he just was. He was the one person you could be with without even needing to say a word. Bang Chan was the definition of safe. You knew that as long as you were with him, he’d try his hardest to accommodate you even when that meant it would make him uncomfortable. As a leader and the oldest, he knew when he needed to be firm or speak with you, but that only solidified his position as your sanctuary of sorts. From his reassuring hugs to encouraging words, Chan was an angel.
🚏 opposites attract: You weren’t ever too sure what made your relationship with Minho work as well as it did. Maybe, it was the way you both loved to learn about each other's interests, even if you would never look into them beyond that point. You both loved eating out together often, always sharing each other’s plates to try something new. Whenever you were around the other boys, you would always laugh the hardest at what Minho had said. Whenever you ended up alone with the man, you’d always feel right at home despite his enigmatic aura around you. You didn’t need to have too much in common to appreciate him and his personality.
🚏 admiration: It was easy to admire such an emotionally intelligent and strong-minded man as Changbin. While Changbin can be loud and a bit of a baby, it’s clear that he’s secure with himself. Not only is he a strong man in terms of his physicality, but also his mentality. You aspired to be more like Changbin in everyday life, frequently going to him for words of encouragement and reassurance. You loved how Changbin was able to express himself without ever faltering. You often thought that without having Changbin as a pillar in your life, it’d all fall apart. He was also a soft man, which, of course, only added to your admiration.
🚏twin flame: Without Hyunjin, you always felt an emptiness in your heart. He was your second half. It was almost unbelievable how both of you felt as if you were meant to be around one another. You never had to do too much to keep yourself around Hyunjin. It was almost as if you were magnets of the opposite pole - forever attached at the hip. If someone was looking for you, they’d always find you cuddled up with Hyunjin in his room. You were often the muse of Hyunjin’s paintings as he said that it was almost natural to paint you. Hyunijn was the love of your life. You couldn’t live without him.
🚏 partners in crime: Being with Jisung was always an adventure. Jisung had too many tricks up his sleeves for you not to try and get in with him. He’s always getting the two of you into trouble. One too many times has one of the other dormmates come into his room to yell at you two to shut the hell up at three in the morning after Jisung fell off the bed from laughing. Whenever the group accompanies you on your shopping trips to the grocery store, you find yourself running up and down the aisles with Jisung as Chan checks off your grocery list with Minho. It was fun to be around Jisung!
🚏 sun & moon: To put it simply, Felix needs to exist for you to feel sane. Without him, your days often feel off balance and gloomy, literally. It feels as if Felix’s smile alone can outdo the sun in every way possible. You have Felix to come along and brighten your day. He is always up to something, whether it be baking you 100 cookies for you to enjoy with him or snuggling up close to you in his bed as you drift off into sleep. It feels as if Felix didn’t exist; there would be no reason for you to live. What is the use of the moon if there is no sun?
🚏 siblings: It was way too easy to get on Seungmin’s nerves. Though, his chaotic energy was also one to get on your nerves after a minute or so. The vibe with Seungmin was super different from the rest of the members. With him, it just felt natural to be your most honest self. Your time together was spent in silence if he wasn’t trying to get you to shove him to get you in trouble with Chan. Sometimes, it genuinely did feel like Seungmin was your brother. He would tag along with you on your nightly trips to the convenience store, and other times he’d bring you your favorite ice cream cone.
🚏 soulmates: Being the closest in age to Jeongin meant you two probably had the most in common. You both bonded over your interest in fashion and current fashion trends you could both try and execute. He was your best friend before you met any of the other boys. You knew him like the back of your hand. If you weren’t hanging around Hyunijn, you were definitely annoying Jeongin. Despite Jeongin’s apparent distaste for skinship, he was always willing to let you cuddle up to him whenever you wanted. On the days Jeongin was feeling a bit more cuddly, you would always catch him dozing off as a movie played in the background.
This took me about 3000 years to finish but FINALLY she's here. It's a little self-indulgent with the 'friendship types' being based off of what I feel with skz but...... still Very Soft still Very Enjoyable.
#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids fic#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#stray kids fluff#stray kids headcanons#📁 stray kids: ot8
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Fallen Angel Part 4
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Words- 6.7K
Pairings: Izuku Midoriya x Reader, Hawks x Trainee!Reader
Warnings: Violence/Battle, stalking tendencies, (TW: Child Abuse- with an adult to the reader, Psychological abuse, emotional abuse), character deaths, WAR ARC SPOLIERS, later chapters will have more triggering content
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First Name: Y/n
Last Name: L/n
Age: 16
Quirk: Angel Wings (With wings that resemble an angel, she can use them to fly and fight, she can fly up to 200 mph the fastest she has ever gone is about 300 when racing Hawks. She can also use her wings as a shield against attack by slightly hardening the feathers, but if enough damage can fail on her. Unlike Hawks she can’t remove her feathers to fight so has incorporated a staff in her fight style; melee combat)
Hero Name: Halo
Affiliation: Student at U.A. and Hero-in-Training (Under Commission)
Family: Unknown
BY CLICKING KEEP READING YOU UNDERSTAND THE TRIGGERING CONTENT THAT MIGHT BE AHEAD
When you return to school, you keep your distance from Bakugo after your fight but remain on edge with all of your classmates. Some talk in class about a news report about the death of that family that made you sick to your stomach. The bathroom becomes your sanctuary to cry, try to calm the constant anxiety attacks, or expel any food that you ate. Their lives are in your hands if you mess up. You felt completely drained with all this pressure, from school to work studies, the lack of contact from Hawks, to your stalker. You felt like you were going to collapse one day. And that day was today.
You were slow to change being the last one to leave, spending most of your time throwing up your meal from lunch. Mina questioned your slowness but you shrug it off saying bad night of sleep. You get paired up with Bakugo and you both head towards the center.
“Ready to die birdbrain!” Bakugo yells small explosions coming from his hands. You nod, staying silent, the headache you are getting growing stronger. He rushes towards you letting out a large explosion which you sidestep out of the way but still get hit by a bit of the heat. The loud noise makes your headache piercing. You swing your leg to hit him in the guy which he counters by catching your leg sending smaller blasts to your leg.
“What’s wrong birdbrain? Losing your touch!” He smirks and you spin around while his hand still holds your leg kicking him in the chest and sending him back. A wave of dizziness hits you from spinning but it is quickly overwhelmed by the loud explosions coming your way.
“DIE!” You hear Bakugo scream and you’re unable to move. His fist smashes into your face with an explosion. A shatter goes through your face and your nose and liquid flow. You stumble back reaching your hand to catch the blood spilling out of your face staining your costume red.
“L/n!“ “Y/n!” You hear cries from your classmates and you hear Bakugo curse.
“You were supposed to dodge you idiot!” He yells. You feel your head pound and your body feel fuzzy and your legs weak. You see Bakugo in front of you but he fades in and out of your view.
“Hey idiot I said you should have dodged.” You feel yourself tipping back and you see his eyes widen as he rushes to grab you before you hit the ground. “Aizawa!” He yells and your classmates and teacher crowd around you.
Voices shout above you as the lights seem brighter. The last thing you see before passing out is Midoriya’s concerned face hovering over you.
You feel groggy as you slowly blink your eyes open wincing at the harsh lights in Recovery Girl’s office. You push yourself up, wincing at the ache in your bones. You freeze in place and hear voices coming from outside the room.
“I really must interject. She was clearly dehydrated and it looks as if she hasn’t eaten all week. I wasn’t able to fully heal her injury” You hear what you believe is Recovery Girl.
“And isn’t it this institution’s job to make sure all their students are safe? Is U.A. really the school the Commission should be funding.” Your blood runs cold hearing Takeda’s voice. She probably was going to kill you when you get back to the commission.
Swinging your body to the side of the bed you push yourself to stand getting slightly dizzy from the blood rushing to your head but you stand straighter. You’re still in your costume, the front collar and a bit of the chest are stained red with your blood. You see your school bag is next to your bed and there is another bag that has your uniform in it. Pushing the curtain covering the bed you were in right as the voices escalate and the door swings open.
“As her teacher, I won’t allow you in there!” They all freeze seeing you standing still like a soldier void of all expression.
“My behavior was unacceptable, causing a delay in my studies. I accept all punishment.” You bow unaware of Mr. Aizawa, All Might, and Recovery Girl’s shocked expression and the growing smirk on Takeda’s face.
“The higher-ups will deal with you, Halo.” Your handler says and two agents come to you, one grabbing your things the other gripping your shoulder leading you out. You feel a hand grip your wrist and you turn to see Aizawa staring at you. Both of you are quiet having a conversation with your expression, his face hard but a hint of softness worried about one of his students. You wish you could just be free but the jerk of the agent’s arm pulls you back to the reality you live in. You turn away following Takeda out of the school not even seeing your classmates watching you leave, many of them feeling different emotions seeing you leave. Midoriya feels his heart tear seeing the emotionless face he thought he got rid of when you first met.
You’re silent in the car heading to the commission, you’re silent receiving the punishment the higher-up gave you, the punches, kicks, and uses of different quirks taint your skin with bruises and cuts. You show no sign of life as the healers take all the injuries away from the view of the world but never the pain that stays in your mind never fades. You return the next day to others you look perfectly fine, no fights and all, the commission learning from their mistakes. You are pulled in during lunch by Recovery Girl, Aizawa, and All Might and you tell them nothing happened to keep up the pristine image of the commission intact as usual. You ignore your friends' comments during class quickly heading home, not spending a second to talk to your close friends who are worried about you. Still no messages from Hawks which continues to increase your worry for him.
Two months had passed and the blossom began to bloom as you juggled both work studies and school, you were called to go to join some Pro Heroes at the Gunga Mountain Villa.
“Our goal is to make sure none of the villains inside that building escape, the Paranormal Liberation Army is tied with the League of Villains.” You hear Edgeshot call out to the huge group of heroes. There were large heroes, like Mt. Lady, Kamui Woods, Midnight, Gang Orca, Fat Gum, Majestic, Cementoss, Ms. Joke, and many others as well as students like Suneater, Kaminari, Tokoyami, as well as students from Class 1-B and yourself. You remember details about the League of Villains from what the Commission taught you, you learned about their quirks and who they were before you were unsuccessful in getting much visual evidence on some of the members so you didn’t know what they looked like.
“Why do I have to be on the front lines, I’d rather be with the others.” Kaminari cries out nervously.
“The heroes won’t need you for the entire battle Kaminari, you will be fine.” You say opening up your staff checking over your costume to be sure you are alright.
“How are you so calm about this!” He cries out. As if his cry was a cue you all began running towards the building, you didn’t use your wings to keep your stamina up. You see Cementoss up in the front bringing his hand down and you watch as the building splits in half opening it up to a bunch of villains inside.
“Don’t let anyone escape! They’re well trained and ready to give their lives for the cause! If any of them get out, they could keep terrorizing other places. In order to defend we must attack!” Edgeshot yells out to you all as you charge forward. You see ahead of you one villain steps forward with a scar and his body begins to spark with electricity, he raises his arm out in front of you all letting out a yell sending it towards you. You feel someone brush past you and there is a loud blast and light blinds you for a second and you shield yourself with your wings. Looking ahead of you, you see Kaminari standing there, his hand in the air, electricity covering him as he absorbs the entire blast.
“There ya go! One big commander guy totally neutralized! Now let’s mop up the others real quick so the guys we left behind don’t need to worry!” He cheers confidence coming off him.
“Nice one Chargebolt!” You call out running past him and he throws you a thumbs up shooting electricity at villains by him.
You enter the building and you hear someone yelling to no one in particular, “The lying scumbag Hawks! Where is he?! Find him and kill him!” He was here, all this time he was trapped, no he’s too good to be captured. Forget about the villains you have to find him.
You rush down a hallway seeing three villains coming down the other end, “Look a hero!” One calls out and they come rushing towards you. You take a deep breath in clearing your head, your training, everything you’ve done now isn’t going to fail you to some lowlife villains.
You rush towards the one closest to you. He seems to have an antler quirk, large on his head and sharp as he charges toward you like a bull. You grab onto his antlers as you slide between his legs, his body flipping over and crashing against the floor. You dodge a spiked punch heading towards your face and a crack forms in the grow, kicking your leg against his knee making him buckle slightly. Wrapping your legs around his neck, spinning around as he falls making you stand up. Your hands are wrapped by chains and the last person in front of you pulls you forward and kicks you in the chest, sending you crashing to the ground. He pulls the chains making you drag against the ground and you roll forward till you’re standing, it becomes a tug-a-war between you two as he tries to bring you and you pull back.
You both rush towards each other and you throw a punch to his gut before countering it by slamming your palm up against his nose and you hear it crack under your palm. He takes the chains off your hands, his hand coming up to his bleeding nose. You spin around your foot, clocking him against the side of his head and he is knocked unconscious. Let out a huff of air you look back at the three men unconscious in the hallway and you take off to continue your mission. You continue your path throughout the building, absolutely ruthless taking down villains left and right, the trail of unconscious or very incapacitated villains behind you.
You end up on an empty landing. There were no close voices by you, over the railing you could see hero and villain fight it out as you ascend the building.
As you go to continue up you hear footsteps and someone yelling, “Twice! Twice dude where the hell are you!” They turn the corner, and you both freeze staring at each other. You knew this was one of the members of the League, Shuichi Iguchi or Spinner.
“Ha, you’re just a kid, thought it was going to be more of a fight.” He smirks, pulling a katana off his back. Pulling out your staff you both rush to each other the metal clashing against each other. Kicking him in the gut and sending him back you chuck your staff like a spear towards him, he dodges it barely as it grazes his face lodging into the wall next to him. He sends you a fearful look before coming to you twirling the sword-slashing at you as you dodge each strike getting close to the railing. Spinner brings the blade ready to strike down when you duck and it gets stuck in the railing, punching him in the crotch he falls over. Pulling the blade from the railing you hold it in front of his face making him freeze.
“You’re not gonna kill me, you’re a hero.” He groans out, still wary of the blade pointed at him.
“Where’s Hawks tell me, and maybe I won’t.” You say without remorse your eyes were cold, a completely different person now.
“I don’t know, okay.” He holds his hands up, bringing the blade up as if to strike him he shakes his hands. “Okay don’t please I know okay don’t hurt me.” He begs and you lower it but still point it at him. “Hawks is with Twice on the fifth floor, I don’t know if they're still there.” He rats them out quite quickly in fear of his life. Looking into his eyes to see any form of deceit you lower the blade, before slamming it next to his neck making him close his eyes. Opening them he saw the blade was stabbing his scarf, the hilt touching the railing, the blade coming out the other side, he looks at you in shock.
This girl has to be a high schooler and she has all this strength and skill. What are they teaching these kids at U.A.? Going over to the wall you pull your staff out coming back over to Spinner emptying his pockets and removing any other weapons he has on him.
Bringing your hand up to your earpiece, “This is Halo, I have found and apprehended one of the League of Villains members, he is located on the third floor in the east wing.” You say and you hear confirmation from another hero. Spinner’s eyes widen. This was Halo, this was Hawks’ student, the girl he saw in the photos and what Dabi had said was the complete opposite of who stood in front of him now. Dabi was able to torment this girl and break her down but now she was ruthless and she was only a first year.
You don’t even wait for anyone to come to get Spinner hopping over the railing and flying up to the fifth floor, you could hear him curse out your name with every phrase under the sun. So childish and he’s older than you.
From the Fataxi, Tokoyami and the other first are rushed off the battlefield.
”Should we really be joining the rear guard?” Mudman says.
“I say we can still fight!” Kaminari says to Fatgum.
“You kids struck first with your wide-range quirks! You rattled the enemy good! Now it’s time for the net to close in so we can crush ‘em, little by little! At this point, your attacks would only hit our allies and trip them up.” Fatgum explains running.
“What about Y/n? She is still out there.” Kaminari points out. You are really cool but you were still a first-year and you were out fighting.
“Halo is an interesting case with her work with the Commission, I think earlier she already apprehended a League member.” Fatgum says. Woah if you were able to take down a member of the League of Villains you were up there skill-wise with the Pros.
“You lent us your strength, and that was enough, we grown-ups have gotta settle the score now.” He says and there is a loud explosion of flames coming from the upper level of the villa and Tokoyami sees a horde of blue flames.
“You killed him. HOW COULD YOU?!” Dabi sends a wave of flames toward Hawks as he rolls out onto the railing now out of the room. “Is that the face of a man who’s just watched a friend die?!” Hawks groans out he was completely at a disadvantage, his wings were practically seared off and he had no chance of escaping Dabi’s wrath. “Hey, now!! That was rude! I haven’t cried since my tear ducts got all burned. With Twice around, my dream had a way better chance of coming true! So, of course, I’m sad he’s gone!” Dabi yells stomping his foot on Hawks’ back flames coming onto him “SO, SOOO SAD!”
Hawks tries pushing himself up, “You and the League…I looked into your backgrounds! But I came up with nothing on you and Shigaraki! Only you two.” He is confused on how Dabi knows his real name. The only people that would know are the commission and Y/n though he only told her his first name. “Who are you?!” He yells at the man above him who is smirking down at him.
“More than Twice… More than anyone you should’ve been keeping both eyes on me. The League? Shigaraki? I never gave a damn about them. A single person with a single conviction has the power to change the world. There are no true heroes. I...plan to make Stain’s will a reality.” Dabi smirks, lifting his hand as it covers in blue flames, “See ya, Hawks. Your life’s another thing I don’t care about. I’ll make sure your songbird doesn’t miss you too much.” He says about to strike the finishing blow when someone stops him.
Your search on the fifth floor had been unsuccessful though you did find the body of Jin Bubaigawara or Twice. To continue on your search on the railing below you see Tokoyami holding Hawks as a villain is about to strike them with flames. Flapping your wings as fast as you can, you swing your staff hitting the villain as you slide to a stop standing in front of your classmate and mentor. The villain stands removing a hand from the back of his head seeing red and turns to face you three. You felt your entire world crumbling seeing him in front of you, now that you were here it all came together and his face connected to the information. Blue flame quirk, scars covering his body, and member of the League of Villains, Dabi.
“Songbird~” he coos, getting absolute joy seeing your shocked face.
“Tsukuyomi get Kei-Hawks out of here.” You slip slightly on his name, turning back to your classmate and looking over your mentor. He is covered by Tokoyami’s cape but you knew he had to be badly injured.
“I can’t just leave you here.” He says still holding Hawks.
“Kid..” You hear Keigo mumble completely out of it.
“Just go, I'll be alright.” You say to him and he hesitates before using Dark Shadow to fly off. You get one last look at the man you see as family before you hear slow claps and Dabi’s laughter.
“Truly sentimental songbird would have cried if I could.” He smirks, wiping away a fake tear, and you glare back holding your staff in your hand.
“Don’t call me that.” You spit and his smirk drops.
“Quite an attitude. I’m going to have to punish you.” He says before sending a wave of flames to you and you dodge out of the way but you can feel the heat singe at your feathers. Your attempts of getting a hit on him are futile, any chance at hitting him he sends his fire your way.
You do notice that he can’t use his quirk in quick succession and you use that as your chance to attack rushing towards him you slide between his legs spinning on your knees to have your staff hit him in the ribs making him groan in pain. Quickly flipping onto your feet you rush jumping and wrapping your legs around his neck using your momentum to flip him over and you both crash down though you roll off the fall while he wheezes in pain.
“You're real funny songbird.” He groans and he sends a large wave of fire that takes up the entire railing and you have no chance of dodging. Turning your back towards him you hardened your feathers shielding yourself, you can feel the constant heat on you and you can feel some of your feathers failing you burning to ash. Two hands grab your waist throwing you over against the wall, your face hitting it and your glasses shatter, your face stings from the shard cutting against your face. You push yourself upright as Dabi brings his hand down and you block it with your staff. He pushes you practically into the wall as the staff gets closer to your neck almost choking you. As you struggle to push back both of his hands in the middle glow blue and he melts the staff breaking it into two.
Ducking down right before his fiery hands touch you, you roll out of his way. He slashes his hand out flames heading towards you and you try to shield with one of your wings but it burns and the flames burn your right arm. The fire is so hot it burns the sleeve of your jacket off and the part of the staff gets red hot sizzling in your palm and you drop it in pain. The adrenaline rushes through you as you chuck the other half of the staff at his face which he melts before it can even touch him. He sends waves of flames your way and you continue to shield yourself with your wings, as your feathers fail against you burning away from the intense heat he’s emitting. A hand wraps around your throat and he pushes you against the railing and you can see everyone fighting down below.
“Look at all that destruction, wish you had your hero friends with you now don’t you.” His hand is hot against your throat not burning but as a warning. You are completely at his mercy, your right arm severely burned and you can barely move your fingers, your wings won’t do you much help the beautiful white wings now have large chunks of feathers missing and dark covered in ash and dirt from the flames and floor. He pulls you away from the railing throwing you onto the floor. You try catching yourself with your burned hand but it fails and you lie flat on the floor in pain and too weak to move.
“A shame really angel, I always thought your wings were beautiful, but if this is what is going to make you defy me then..” He kicks you in the ribs flipping onto your stomach and you groan, his hand covering in blue before bringing it down on you. You scream in pain as the flames beat down on you burning your wings away. You cry in pain as the fire burns, it feels hot as it burns then almost a cooling sensation, you also cry as the one thing that made you important is ripped away from you. With your wings you are nothing, the commission would have never found you if you didn't have them, the skills in fighting that you have now meant nothing with your quirk. Even someone who was quirkless could be as good as a fighter you are, the commission practically shoved it into your brain, with these wings, your quirk, you are nothing. Dabi stops his assault when he sees your wings are all gone, he could see that your jacket was completely gone and your uniform had missing patches from the flames, the two empty slots at the back of your costume now a reminder of what you lack.
You don’t fight when he pulls you up, slinging you over his shoulder and taking you away, the sounds of fighting and noise fade away. I hope Keigo is okay. In the ruined villa Dabi drops down from a railing with you where he sees Mr.Compress and Spinner.
“Mister. Where’s Toga?” He questions slugging your unconscious body off him leaning you against a wall.
“Dabi! Where did you run off to? You’re meant to be a lieutenant and who’s that!” Compress yells at him before questioning the girl off to the side.
“The whole regiment system doesn’t really work when they catch us off guard. Anyway, wanna blow this joint.” Dabi shrugs looking down at the destruction.
“That’s the girl, I fought her before she went to find Hawks, why do you have her?” Spinner points at the girl, you look completely different with your injuries and lack of wings.
“Spoils of wars.” Dabi says, looking back at you.
“I believe Twice was killed. Alas, I tried but failed to stop her. Even though jumping into the fray was tantamount to suicide. I’ve never seen little Toga lose her cool like this.” Compress says the three of them seeing the blonde rushing around cutting down heroes left and right bloodlust and anger in her eyes. Suddenly a large hand from Gigantomachia sprouts up from the ground behind Toga. There was their ride out of here.
You were woken by large movements, blinking your eyes open to see that you were very high up but everything was blurry.
“Dabi they’re awake.” You hear someone say but it is slightly muffled, you see someone move in front of you and they shift your face so you are looking at them. Your vision and hearing clear up and you hear a very loud roaring and in front of you is Dabi who is smirking down at you.
“Thought you were going to be out for a bit longer but now you can watch all the people you care for die.” He lifts you by the burned arm making you hiss in pain holding you against his chest. You see Kamui Woods and Midnight heading towards the person that you found out you were on. Dabi sends flames at Kamui Woods burning him and you struggle against him and he brings his other hand wrapping it around your neck heating it and making you still.
“Don’t upset me more.” He whispers and you feel tears fill your eyes as you watch Compress send debris at your teacher and she falls back to the ground disappearing from your view. All of a sudden the ground beneath you disappears and Dabi grabs you and you both fall back onto Gigantomachia's body.
“It’s U.A! Why are there so many of them here?” Compress yells and your heart stills. They’re here with you fighting, you only thought it was a few of you, was your entire class down there fighting? You can feel his smirk and he stands bringing you up with him.
“Look at that, your friends are here, just remember their blood is on your hands.” He says and you see Aoyama with Shoji as he sends lasers at the League and you, you also see Ojiro ready to attack, you feel a disc hit you and you see it’s one of Kaminari’s electric distributors. You see him hold his hand out ready to shoot when Dabi holds you in front of him, his hand igniting in blue
“Shoot she dies!” He yells and you see that your classmate is shocked seeing you there but before he could do anything he and the others are blown away by Compress and also by Gigantomachia using his breath to send them away. Mt. Lady lands on top of Gigantomachia trying to open his mouth while heroes come and try to attack the league, but they are quickly defeated, killed, and burned instantly and you're forced to watch them all die.
You and the League are brought up to a now standing Gigantomachia after he threw Mt. Lady off him as if she didn’t weigh anything. You see Kirishima trying to throw a bottle into his mouth but Toga threw a knife destroying, Dabi gets ready to burn him his arm lighting up and you kick the back of his leg, pulling you both down and he misses giving Kirishima the chance to throw another one in that you saw him take out before being carried away by a student from Class 1-B. You smile happy that you were able to do some help until you feel two hands around your throat choking you slamming your head against the ground well Gigantomachia shoulders.
“You’re really stupid you know that, I should kill you right now.” He hisses and you bring your good arm up clawing at his face as the oxygen slowly leaves your body. None of the league members did anything to stop him, you were a hero if anything they would encourage him to continue. You thrash underneath him desperate for him to let you go so you can breathe but he continues to choke you, his hands getting warmer and you're fearful that he will kill you.
“S..stop..” You gasp feeling your limbs getting weaker, your hand falling from his face.
“The fun is just starting songbird and you better be awake by then.” He lifts your head slamming it down and darkness takes over.
The heroes back in Jaku fight with everything they got against Shigaraki. Bakugo, Gran Torino, Mr. Aizawa, and Ryukyu are all severely injured. Endeavor and Midoriya were hurt but still fighting, while Todoroki, Iida, and Nejire took on Shigaraki. Endeavor feels the exhaustion calling for him but he remains strong seeing if his son is alright, now that Gigantomachia finally arrives with the League of Villains.
“Ooo, there you are! You all look like ants from way up here.” Dabi waves down at the Number One Hero, “Oh?! Do I spy Shoto too? That’s perfect!” Shoto is confused at the acknowledgment from the villain.
“Dabi!” Endeavor yells and Dabi smirks, pulling out a bottle of water.
“Ouch..Is that any way to address me?” He splashes the water down on his hair, the black dye disappearing, revealing white locks, “I have a great name. Call me Touya.” Endeavor and Todoroki are in shock looking up at the person claiming to be their dead family member.
“You’re that dumbstruck? Really..? I know my face ain’t exactly what it was, but I was sure my own kin would’ve figured it out. Once upon a time, Endeavor yearned for nothing but power. But when he found himself unable to surpass All Might, he despaired. To concoct even stronger quirks, my father forced the woman who would become my mother to marry him. That’s when my father created Me, in pursuit of his selfish, egotistical dreams. But alas, I was a failed creation. It didn’t take long for him to reject me. I was tossed aside and forgotten.” The world is in shock hearing the scandal Dabi is revealing to the world. “But I never forgot a thing. And I had plenty of reason to keep watching you. I’m not saying that everyone has to be pure and selfless. Just you. These murderous flames of mine are Endeavor’s flames. And guess what? Right now my prerecorded life story is broadcasting nationwide and on the net!”
Dabi claps his hands together getting back on track, “Man I’m having a blast! Sorry where was I? How could I make you hurt?! How to best stomp all over your life. I’ve been pondering all this ever since that day! I couldn’t figure out why I even existed, and everyday I’d crawl to Natsu, crying my eyes out. Not that you ever knew, right!” He spat at his father “When you finally achieved success with your little puppet Shoto… I thought killing him might do the trick! But then-who would’ve guessed you got bumped up to Number One! Suddenly, I was rooting for your happiness. My blood ran cold when I thought you might bite the big one in Kyushu! Then. I led Starservant and Ending straight to you. One after the other! You were finally Number One! It’s all you ever wanted! But I must’ve weighed on you, right?! Or was it all the praise and admiration like chicken soup for your soul? When, at long last, you stare your kids in the eye… didja finally start to feel the warm and fuzzy bonds of family!? You must've thought, ’As long as I face the future, I can be better’ I can tell you’re at a loss for words, so here’s the answer!”
Dabi is finding great enjoyment in his father’s pain and the fun hasn’t even begun. “THE PAST NEVER DIES! GET IT, YET?! Y’REAP WHAT YOU SOW! SO LET’S TANGO, YOU AND ME- ENJI TODOROKI!! A DANCE WITH YOUR SON HERE IN HELL!!”
Endeavor and Todoroki are shaken to the core at the truth revealed to them, especially Endeavor after all these years his child is a villain.
“No, Touya is dead. Take back that despicable lie.”
Dabi laughs “Nope I’m clearly alive! And that’s the despicable truth, Dad! Because you put a whole agency together of fire and heat-type quirks, you didn’t even suspect me! Don’t believe me I’m willing to donate some blood or a hunk of skin. Go ahead- get a DNA test. Not that it matters since the test I ran has already gone public.” Dabi shakes his head
“You’re not the only hero out there that bad, Hawks your good old buddy skewered Twice without the slightest hesitation. Not very Hero-like. This is my present to you, Endeavor. See, I did some digging into Hawks-that filthy spy. In order to curry favor with us… Hawks even killed a hero...the Number Three Hero, in fact, who was recuperating. He killed Best Jeanist.” The heroes there are stunned in horror that the Number Two Hero killed another hero. “Carrying out that murder didn’t ruffle his feathers in the slightest, since violence is already so ingrained in his lifestyle. And it’s really no wonder..since his own father was a serial robber and murderer, a villain. Which is exactly why Hawks’ background and real name were kept a secret. It was actually you who captured his father, actually, maybe it was that connection… And some twist of fate brought these two men together.” Dabi reveals the truth about Hawks’ background.
“Real shame Endeavor, Shinyo Takami leaving his child because of you, but it’s alright he’s not alone. Did you know he had a daughter, he took care of her after coming out of jail before abandoning her, lucky both Hawks and her were able to be together not that she knew it. I’m sure you would be delighted to meet her.” Conveniently you woke up when he was talking about Takami’s daughter. You feel Dabi grab your arm pulling you to your feet holding you to his chest, his arm wraps around your waist while his other one lifts your weak head and looks down at them.
Blinking your eyes open you are confused about why the heroes were looking at you shocked. You saw Midoriya down there with fear in his eyes. The heroes below were horrified by your appearance but it was the lack of your quirk that made them worry
“Here she is Endeavor, a precious Halo, Y/n Takami!” Takami, why did that name sound so familiar, “Her life is all because of you, and her death will be too!” You’re turned around to look at him, his hair was now white and his eyes are filled with insanity.
“See you in hell songbird.” And that’s when you feel his hands push you off. Your hands reach out to try and grab him but they slip past.
You felt the air rush through you and it felt different now than the times you fell before you knew your wings would save you and it was fun. Now you knew nothing wasn’t going to save you and you felt your life flash before your eyes, every moment coming to you, memories with your classmates, times you spent with Midoriya, your time with Keigo. You hear explosions and feel the air get knocked out of you when a body collides with yours, you both hit the ground rolling a bit before stopping. Looking above you see Bakugo hovering over you looking over you taking in each of your injuries.
“So do I not call you birdbrain anymore.” He says and your lips quirk up. He helps you sit up and you see Dabi about to attack Todoroki when he is tied up by wires as well as the rest of the League and Gigantomachia, and here he was Best Jeanist alive and ready to fight.
“Huh ‘Missing Person’ Yeah right!” Bakugo smirks relieved that his old mentor is alive. Bakugo carries most of your weight to get you out of harm's way now that Gigantomachia was struggling to get out of the binds that Best Jeanist held. You see Nejire is also injured being hit by Dabi’s flames and glad to see Iida catch her. Lemillion appears helping fight the Nomus that appears and you see some head to Best Jeanist who is focused on Gigantomachia.
You see Bakugo look back at your defenseless self and then back to the Nomus heading to his mentor, “Go get ‘em, Bakugo.” You say a weak smile appears on your face and he smirks before exploding over there, the blast from the explosion blows your hair back. Iida, Nejire, and Bakugo help back up Mirio, all of them fighting the Nomus.
“That name was temporary. I held off on the big reveal until you could hear it! GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GOD DYNAMIGHT!” You hear Bakugo yell out and you can’t help but cringe. So dramatic.
As the fight continues Gigantomachia seems to break free slightly from his binds but Endeavor shoots up hitting him and he seems to lose strength before Gigantomachia is unconscious. You can’t just sit around pushing yourself up to your feet, you stumble slightly, you keep pushing yourself forward, you can’t just stop. You’re a hero, the commission raises you for this, keep up the image, don’t fail them, don’t be a nobody. Ahead of you see Todoroki down, steam coming off him as he struggles to get up, and ahead of you, Dabi is coming towards him. Fight him, find something. You look around and find part of a sword just the end of the blade. Grabbing it tightly you feel it cut into your already damaged palm, you see Dabi raise his hand ready to finish his brother off, and then chuck the blade like you would do with your staff. It flies through the air going through his side and he presses his hand down to stop the bleeding from the large cut. He looks over to see who attacked him and sees you standing a bit away from Todoroki. You’re running on fumes as you struggle to stand up just glaring at him, everything from hatred to disgust is described by your eyes. He smirks at your attempt to hurt him and he rushes off to Compress disappearing in an orb, he’ll find you again and next time you won’t escape that cage.
Todoroki sees that it was you that saved him and you nod before coughing out blood, you suck in the air feeling your ribs and chest hurt. You fall to your knees and Todoroki stumbles over to where you are grabbing you before you fall over completely. The adrenaline you were able to run on all this time since you battled at the Villa and now took over and you succumb to your injuries passing out.
You dream of a man with red wings, you thought it was Keigo but when he turns around it wasn’t him, the man looks exactly like him but he had a long scar running up the side of his face. He looks at you and calls you his daughter. He calls you Takami. You weren't Takami. Your last name was L/n when you would deny it he would appear in front of you with his hands wrapping around your throat. His face melts off revealing Keigo choking you as you beg him to stop. His hands would become hot and blue flames would appear as you fell to the ground you look up and there he was Dabi, Touya Todoroki staring down at you. Then all three of them appear yelling at you calling you L/n or Takami. When you woke up you didn’t know who you were anymore.
#fallen angel#mha quirks#mha x reader#shota aizawa#my hero academia#izuku midoriya#bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugo katsuki#izuku midoria x reader#midoriya x you#midoriya x reader#izuku midoriya x reader#izuku x reader#pro hero hawks#hawks x reader#yandere dabi#mha dabi#touya todoroki
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Sanctuary
Eddie helps you release some pent-up feelings, but not all good things last.
A/N: A little something based on this post by @love-toxin. Thank you for letting me run with this idea! Also thank you to @comfortcap for beta’ing this against your will. You’re a real one. Also my first Eddie fic so please be kind.
Dividers: @firefly-graphics
Warnings: Anxiety and anxious habits (skin picking, and yelling). Angst.
Words: 700
Eddie watches as you pick at the skin around your fingernails. Over the last few weeks, he’s become accustomed to your idiosyncrasies’ and he knows that you are about to absolutely lose it if Jason doesn’t leave you alone. He slides up behind you and distracts you from listening to Jason’s rant.
“If you come with me right now, I promise no one will even know we’re missing.”
Just hearing his voice pulls you back from the edge you were teetering on. You glance up at the shaggy-haired, metalhead and give a quick nod. He loops his arm through yours ushering you away. You don’t stop him or even utter a word until you’re passing the picnic bench at the edge of the woods behind Hawkins High School.
“Thank you, Eds,” You slip from his grasp and hop up on the picnic table, watching him as he watches you. Your fingers flex as you itch to pick more at your cuticles.
“You okay?” He hops up onto the table, gently bumping his shoulder against yours, jostling you.
You pause looking up at this boy who picked you, out of everyone, to be his friend. Almost not allowing you a choice, but even if he had you would have chosen him too.
“You ever feel like you need to scream? Like your skin is too tight to hold in everything you’re feeling and the only way to relieve the pressure is to yell?”
The silence that follows your question has you picking your cuticles again until Eddie’s hand settles over both of yours the size difference giving you pause.
“Come with me,” he says, standing and leading you back to the main road and a few blocks up until you’re standing outside an empty storefront.
Eddie leads you around towards the back of the building and opens a door off the alleyway and leads you down a flight of stairs. If anyone else had been guiding you down this path you would have been sure they were leading you into danger, but with Eddie, you know that you can trust him to keep you safe. Once you’re down the stairs Eddie flicks a switch somewhere off to your right and a dull light illuminates the steam tunnel that connects this building to others on the block. You glance at him and he smiles at your perplexed expression.
“Well...? What are you waiting for?”
“What do you mean?” You ask glancing around.
“You said you needed to yell. Well, no one will be able to hear you down here. Let it out, angel.”
You look at him for another long moment before taking a deep breath and indulging him in his request. You scream and scream, and after a moment you realize that someone else is screaming alongside you. As his warm eyes connect with yours, you can't help but let the corners of your mouth curl up in a thankful smile, mirroring his own. It was only a matter of luck that Eddie had been there in your moment of desperate need for catharsis.
Over the next few months, you often find yourself sitting in the steam tunnel together. Eddie knows when he can’t find you in any of your usual haunts, that’s the best place to check. It becomes your sanctuary where the two of you can escape from the rest of the world.
It wasn’t unusual for Eddie to take his time to show up to your sanctuary, but he always came. As you sit and wait, time passes, and you grow more and more worried. You hold out hope. You know he’s coming; he always comes. Suddenly, you are overcome with a sense of overwhelming loneliness and you know, this time he’s not coming. You are once again alone in this world, and you let out a scream, that turns to a whimper, to a sigh, to crushing silence.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie x reader#onyx writes things#angst#eddie munson angst#stranger things 4#stranger things#stranger things fic#eddie munson fanfic
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The Princess And The Rooster Chapter 01
Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Warnings:anger, abandonment, physical abuse, 1 year age gap( reader is older/Bradley), scars
- - -
Santa Monica, Los Angeles - 1990
Big brown eyes stared wide as a f-14 flies above her head, blowing her hair everywhere. She jumps with happiness as she watches her Uncle Ice fly pass them with a bright smile on his face.
“Percy, come here sweetheart” her dad commands softly, eyeing how happy she looks when she’s on base. “You like that,kiddo?”
“Mhm, papa like how fast they go, I want to do that too”
“You could Percy, you could get up there and fly like me and Uncle Ice”
“Yeah I could papa, Bradley and I would be like you guys” she said happily holding a toy plane in the air, flying it as the other pilots fly pass her.
“If your'e anything like me Percy Kate, you’ll fly high like I do, hopefully not as crazy as me” Maverick winked at his daughter. Throwing her up in the air and kissing her. He knew right away, his daughter, would fly like him, enjoying seeing the sun and clouds.
“I love you Percy”
“I love you too papa”, she then ambushed him with kisses.
—
Miramar, San Diego California - 2019
Percy stood over top her aunt and uncle gravestones, praying to find sanctuary in the hell she’s in right now. It’s been almost 20 years, Bradley and her haven’t talked yet—not a call or text, she can’t call a number that doesn’t have someone on the other side, a number that's no longer in service.
A man that obviously doesn’t want to be called. Doesn’t want to be connected to his past, a woman who once yearned for him now hates his guts.
Percy stops a teardrop from flying down her face. Her daughter yelling her name, “mama are you okay?”, Olympia asks her as if she understands what's going on. As if she understood the rift that's been in their family for so long. Olympia stands quietly next to her mom like she knew the silence was needed for a moment.
So much pain caused by the two men she loved.
“Mama, mama” she said again–looking at her for answers, waiting for her questions to be answered.
“I’m sorry Ollie I was just thinking back to sad times, but being with you makes me happy” Percy shakes herself as if she’s shaking the sadness off and absorbing all her daughter’s happiness.
“Okay, mama love you” Ollie says with her head tilted up to the sky.
“Love you too sweetie”
Her daughter is careful of the scar on her cheek as Percy lifts her up in the air. A bruise that couldn’t been hidden with makeup.
There hadn’t been a day when Percy didn’t wear makeup outside the house or inside the house, trying her damnest to not allow Ollie to see her father anger released on to her mother.
Now she walks around bruised, free. Except one.
She’s lying there’s a bruise right below her left eye that leads to her jawline, a bruise that the Navy thinks came from when she crashed down in mission, not from her ex-husband Nolan jagged knife.
A scar that led to her being called scar-face by her ex-husband. Being stared at in public—watching little kids hold on tight on to their parents, people whispering in-front of her as if she was invisible.
A scar that her daughter kisses every morning and night.
She was pulled out of her thoughts as Penny, the owner of the Hard deck approached her. Her dad’s on and off girlfriend.
“Hey kiddo, whatcha want today” she asked, pulling her thumb to thousands of alcohol choices.
“Hmm, I think I’ll take a water” Percy chuckled at Penny raised eyebrows.
“What?” she threw her hands up playfully.
“It’s not every day you see a Navy pilot just drinking water” Penny replied with a wink.
“Well Penny, I have a kid I’d like to go home too tonight”
“I understand kid, bye” Penny put it on the table, grabbing the money and leaving to attend to another patron.
- -
She watched a group of pilots in-front of her, some she knew, some she didn’t.
Hangman, an arrogant Texas Ken, his buddy Coyote they act like Yin&Yang together, the only man to calm the loudmouth Texas man. And her favorite Phoenix Trace a woman who’s not to toyed with a woman who could beat you senseless with one hand tied her back.
Fanboy and Payback, two new faces.
Percy listened to their conversation.
“Bagman here is the only pilot here with one confirmed kill”
“Hangman” his smile was forced, his shiny-ass teeth were purely white. Of course. Ken doll.
“Aren’t you forgetting someone, Phoenix the great Ambush?”, a mysterious man piped into the conversation.
A woman with a lot of souls collected.
“As in legendary Commander Ambush Mitchell, the daughter of Maverick Mitchell?” Percy really wished naval aviators would stop doing that–only associating her with her father, never thinking about her and her greatness. But then again, she did join the navy, but at what cost?
“ The only woman and pilot to have 13 confirmed kills” the man supplies the group with the information.
“Seems like she has a fan” Hangman teased, his southern accent thick and smooth as butter.
“Something you don’t have Bagman”
“Who are you?” Phoenix asks the mysterious man.
“Bob Floyd” his confidence spark gone.
“As in my new back-seater” Phoenix says happily.
“I guess so” Bob replies, still quiet.
Percy smiles at the group, little did they know something big was ahead , something like death.
“Bradshaw! Is that you?” Phoenix yells over the music.
Phoenix was mistaken, no way was that man Bradley Bradshaw. The man she hasn’t heard from in seventeen years,
Percy ducked her head, keeping herself out of sight—doing what she does best, being invisible.
Percy slightly turned her head as she covered by the plethora of brown uniforms, watching with her mouth wide open.
There he was Bradley“Rooster” Bradshaw, her childhood best friend, she looks at the clock begging for time to go faster. Percy smile drops, it seemed to her that Bradley had a better a life here, better than her.
Phoenix leaned into his shoulder“You hear about Ambush coming in this mission?”
“Ambush that soon?, rumor says she was taking a break from her nasty divorce”, More known aviators started to appear in the bar with the evening approaching. She was recovering from the nasty hits but sure, a nasty divorce sounds better.
“The hell kind of mission is this?”
“A mission that needs the best of the best for it” Phoenix replied, “you should be asking who’s going to teach us, everyone here is the best there is, who the hell is going to teach us?”
“Any of them Ambush” Coyote asks Phoenix.
“Nope, but it’s possible the woman is too good to be left off” Phoenix said, everyone knew the reason Ambush’s kill count was so high was because she never leaves till everyone dead, even going as far as sacrificing her life for it. The woman hides in the clouds waiting to make the kill.
Everyone knew she’s too good to be true.
The bar silent, too silent, she eyed at who and why. A short man with brunette hair had the floor.
A man she knew. God damn it, dad.
Penny makes her way to Pete Mitchell with card in her hand. “It’s been declined Pete” He takes out cash out his wallet– just why did he think money was going to cover the entire bar?, who knows her father like to dream and apparently this is one of them.
“I’ll come back tomorrow with the cash” Maverick responded. Penny walks towards the rope that held the bell, she rings it twice—signaling the crowd to chant “Overboard”.
“Really?”, Maverick asks her. The woman smiles innocently, chuckling before waving goodbye to him. As Coyote and Hangman lift him out the bar and tossing him on his ass.
She nodded her head Penny approving of the ‘punishment’, Percy going home to a grumpy old man.
A grumpy old man who doesn’t listen.
She hears a song that too memorized, a song she spent her childhood belting out to with Bradley and dad, Uncle Goose. The first song she sang aloud too, with her dad- dancing around as they sang like the family they were once.
Great Balls Of Fire.
It’s like Bradley felt eyes staring at him ,and she hurriedly turn her head back, backing out the door.
Sharing one more glance at Bradley, she watched the pilots around Bradley singing and dancing, oh how Percy wished that was them again.
A girl can wish, but will the wish actually come true?
She looked one more time before making it into her car. Driving away from her problems, something that starting to become a real problem for her.
Percy sighed tomorrow is going to be long day.
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heading home
AN: sanaaaa ! this one’s shorter than usual actually, but i think it’s actually pretty cute !!
pairing: saida
apartment au
wc: 911
“Where do you think you’re going, sweet thing?”
Another one of these vagrants. How many does that make this week?
“Turn around, slowly.”
Perhaps the danger lies in the location of the lounge itself? It does seem like the surrounding areas are quite fraught with undesirables, especially in the more decrepit corners of the alleys around.
“All I need is your wallet and your phone, and you’re off scot-free.”
This one looks particularly distasteful, what with his ratty coat, his muddy trousers, and the rusty dagger in his hand. The grimace Sana wears on her face seems to show, because the vagrant’s face twists in anger.
“Didn’t you hear me? Gimme your wallet and phone!”
The vagrant is more aggressive than most. It’s amusing, how little he knows about the true danger he’s in.
She’ll eat well tonight. But not without getting her fun in.
“Well?”
Sana offers, gesticulating her arms outwards.
“I am not handing you my wallet or phone. What are you going to do about that?”
He seems aggrieved by her retort, a common response to her antics, ones that she enjoys very much.
“You crazy bitch. Do you really wanna get cut?”
The vagrant approaches, knife held supposedly threateningly towards her. A smile comes upon her lips, and she steps closer.
“By all means, do your worst.”
That seems to aggravate the man, and he yells, striking outwards with his knife. Sana tenses, ready to respond.
Until a furious clicking noise erupts from behind the vagrant, and he shudders violently in place, his voice yelling in pain.
And then he slumps to the ground.
Standing behind him is the cause of Sana’s recent emotional turmoil.
“Oh my god, are you okay, Sana?”
Kim Dahyun. The current Lady of the Sanctuary. A handheld conductor of lightning in her grasp. A taser, Sana recalls.
She���s dressed in the same garbs she usually wears. That short coat she usually wears that she calls a hoodie, those admittedly soft trousers called sweatpants, and those brightly colored boots called sneakers.
“Why are you here?”
It is rather odd seeing her here, by her place of work. Normally it’s the angel that meets her after her work is finished. Not to mention, Sana usually gets off her shift at around three or four in the morning.
“Tzu had something to do, so I volunteered to pick you up. Wait, don’t distract me. You were almost robbed, Sana.”
There it is, that endearing sense of preservation that the Lady has for the inhabitants of the Sanctuary. It’s adorably foolish, how she thinks she can protect them, when in reality she’s the one who needs protection half the time. The girl has a hard time even getting out of bed half the time.
“Sana, you…you got a cut.”
Sana blinks, before putting a hand up to her cheek, where there indeed is a small laceration right under her eye.
“Ah. Not to worry. It will heal in a—”
“Hang on, I have some alcohol and a band-aid.”
The Lady rummages through a satchel by her belt loop, before taking out a small bottle and what seems to be a strip of parchment.
“Ah…my Lady, there’s no need for tha—”
“Hold still, you.”
She closes in, dangerously so. Her warm breath tickles Sana’s own frigid cheeks, the warmth of the living suffusing her being.
“This might sting, okay?”
It does not sting at all, but she seems adamant on treating Sana as if she has the constitution of a normal human. She seems adamant on treating Sana as if she is a normal human.
When Sana is anything but human, the farthest perhaps, the way the sun burns her skin, the way she can never see her own reflection, the way she craved a living creature’s essence.
Perhaps that is what makes Dahyun different.
She flattens the parchment against Sana’s cheek, the small strip sticking to her face where the cut is. Or at least, where it was, since it’s already healed by the time she finishes.
“There. All better.”
Sana can’t help but echo her words as the Lady leans back, small smile on her face.
“All better.”
She is different, that Sana knows. A particularly odd type of human. No wonder she surrounds herself with creatures and entities far beyond her purview. There’s something about her that just made her…shine.
And to a creature of the night like Sana, that is all she craves.
“Let’s head home, okay? You look tired.”
The corners of Sana’s lips twitch. at the way Dahyun's voice lulls off at the end, like she's about to fall asleep.
“I believe it is you who is tired, my Lady.”
Dahyun waves her off, finger pressing to her lips as she smiles.
“Shush, shush. You’re tired, too.”
She offers her hand out, that same kindly smile on her face. Sana knows, that if she miscalculates even the slightest bit, she can crush the Lady’s hand, damaging her irreparably. She has made that mistake before, after all.
Perhaps before, she’d stray away, push the Lady far from her, and run, so that she wouldn’t hurt her as she has hurt so many before.
But now…
She takes her hand with a gentle grasp, as if she’s holding something fragile.
A vampire like Sana has no place in the modern world.
And yet, by Dahyun’s side, Sana feels like she shouldn’t be anywhere else.
“Let’s go home, then. I am tired, after all.”
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Hmm... Ask Game
🥰 😂 😭
❓– Espilver Pirate AU
🥰 a fluff WIP snippet
From Little Ghost:
Waking up outside was always a curious experience.
Blinking open his eyes Espio’s gaze met not the wooden construction of his ceiling or the plastic of the tent but the rustling of trees in the wind, and for a second he struggled to remember where he was. He had gone camping outside… in Mountain Dam Forest, he recalled as he slowly moved up with a yawn to stretch himself out. Yes, all was well; he had been sleeping outside deliberately because of-
Silver!
Jolting awake in full the chameleon quickly upzipped his sleeping bag, eyes jumping over the campsite that only held his one tent. He had chosen to not sleep in there on purpose, he had tried to lure the ghost out- and the ghost had come in the dead of night, mumbling a few words to itself and touching all over his crest! Scrambling to his feet in full, any trace of sleepiness gone entirely, Espio narrowed his eyes to look at the mossy nest he had left for the other…
…and there his little ghost laid, fast asleep and all but dead to the world.
A smile bursting through on his face with no hesitation at just how cute the snoozing hedgehog looked Espio moved to sit down on his trusty log, studying the other from the safe distance. The patches of fur he could discern underneath thick layers of mud and grime were a light grey – no doubt the origin of Silver’s name – and his clothes, or rather the lack of them, were… rather interesting for a being who had been inhabiting this forest for weeks now. At least, Espio figured the gloveless hands of the other with odd cyan marks glowing on them and the rundown shoes filled with holes and torn at the seams did little to aid in survival, and yet here the other was, curled into a ball on his side and with his quills half-raised despite the fact he was sleeping. He looked adorable.
~~~~
😂 a funny or crack WIP snippet
From Genesis:
“Nonsense,” Sonic jumped in. “Knux is just a bit protective about his island and the Master Emerald, is all. Especially since Eggy was plotting to go after it before we stopped him.”
“Ah, yes. ...What is the Master Emerald?”
“You don’t know?!” Most incredulously Knuckles blinked. “Do you... not have it in the future anymore?”
“Well, we have to, because Onyx Island – that is Angel Island – still floats. So no fear about that,” Silver soothed... though the frown on the echidna’s face made him swallow.
“So Angel Island still exists in your era.”
“Ayup.”
“What’s it like? Still as pristine and overflowing with nature as it is now? Who’s looking after the Emerald?”
Face assuming quite the obvious frown of nervosity Gold shifted, Silver slowly blinking himself. “Uh...” Pushing an awkward smile onto his face he waved his hand absentmindedly. “Oh, you know, just... things, and-”
“Silver. What happened to my island.”
“Well, ah... They... kind of... put a metropolis on it?”
In any other situation, the face Knuckles pulled would have been hilarious.
What was slightly less hilarious was the minutes-long yelling and screaming that followed.
“Knuckles, again, I do not go over this. Onyx City is a century old already, blame the Council from that time, ” Silver huffed from where he’d taken to the air to escape the echidna’s wrath, his eardrums hurting from both the Guardian’s irate hollering and Sonic’s laugher intersected with weak pleas for Knuckles to calm down.
“THAT MEANS NOTHING THEY CAN’T JUST PUT A CITY ON MY ISLAND-”
“Um... mister Knuckles?” Gold spoke up in a squeaked whisper, the first thing she’d dared bring out since the other’s outburst- and to her credit, Knuckles did pause in his yelling. “Your island... has brought sanctuary to millions when the planet got destroyed. Without it, I do not want to think about what could have happened to the survivors, but... it cannot have been much good.”
Arms crossing Knuckles grumbled. “Still. This place is basically holy.”
Keeping his mouth shut about the fact the holy ruins and remnants of the old echidna civilisation had all been torn down and built over Silver sunk down on the ground, giving Gold’s hand a grateful squeeze. “Gold is right. Angel Island did something beautiful for the world- it protected those who needed it. And to find it, people followed the ring of debris in the sky that formed after the Great Disaster, and they named it the Angel’s Halo in the island’s honour,” he recounted from the stories he had heard at the Teal Class markets.
“I mean, if it helps people...”
“And now Gold can learn all about your culture and history and share it with the citizens!” Sonic cheerfully added, bouncing away from the Tornado onto the fields of the island and gesturing towards the large stone shrine rising up in the distance. “At the very least, she’s got to see the Master Emerald.”
“The Master Emerald is no tourist destination!” Sputtering and protesting Knuckles cut to the chase. “Sonic!!”
~~~~
😭 angst or sad WIP snippet
From Guardian (my rewrite of Rivals 2):
“Silver,” Rouge smiled, in a way that made the hedgehog instantly wary. “How… good, to see you here too. Looking for more Chao to save the world?”
At the mocking chuckle that followed Silver bristled, keeping his eyes stoically ahead as he brushed past her. “One day you’ll thank me for saving your planet,” he growled lowly, his attention drawn to a rustle in a nearby bush.
“How noble of you. With cute little Chao, no less. Ha ha ha,” the bat crooned behind him as a small blue Chao peeked up from where it had been hiding, the hedgehog digging his nails into his palm as he forced to keep the quiver out of his voice.
“If you know where they are, just tell me!”
“My, you’re really obsessed with this, aren’t you?” Her mocking smirk not wavering Rouge sent him a wink. “If you have some Chaos Emeralds I might be able to help you.”
“The Chaos… This is serious!” Silver protested. “If I don't find the Chao in time, you won't have any use for the Emeralds!” Surely that was a strong enough argument to sway the other, right?
A small snarl formed on Rouge’s muzzle. “I'm serious too! I never joke around when there are Emeralds at stake.”
His head tipping to the side Silver felt a small spark of hope stir in his chest. She wasn’t joking around after all! “Does… that mean you’re going to help me?” he asked, scarcely believing it himself. There was hope after all!
Looking at her happily Silver felt himself grow more hopeful as Rouge’s face took on a pondering frown... but then it faltered and crashed as her mocking expression came back, more amused and ridiculing than he had seen on it before. “I think… no,” the bat purred, turning around with a wink as the hedgehog gaped at her with his ears slowly lowering to his head. “See ya later, silver boy. Have fun saving the world with the Chao… Ha!” And with that her wings spread out, chuckles slipping past Rouge’s lips as she took to the skies.
“Wh- Hey! Come back… here…” Silver cried out after her, standing dumbfounded at the bat’s laughter echoing through the area as Rouge made her leave. “I need… I have to-!”
A quiet murmur beside him made him look down, the tiny Chao looking up at him with sorrowful eyes. “Chao chao,” it murmured, wrapping its little arms around his legs as Silver felt something inside him break.
“W-why didn’t she listen-?" he managed to choke out, the Chao trying to hug him as best it could, but as the question passed his lips Silver already knew the answer. It was him, it was always him, too bright-eyed, too hopeful, too naive, too idiotic, too needy for anyone to take seriously. And as he crumbled onto the ground, the Chao cooing softly in his arms and an ice-cold pit brewing in his stomach, he really, really wished he could cry, but the tears just didn’t come.
~~~~~
❓ any WIP snippet you want!
Here's literally the entire prologue chapter I have in mind because I have no idea if it is engaging or not haha:
Leaving everything behind stung.
Silently he ran over coarse sand under a star-filled sky, a mere breeze amidst the waves crashing down in the distance. He knew what laid behind him, invisible in the dark night and silent in the windless atmosphere: his home, the place he had lived in for so long.
Which he would never return to if given the chance.
Face twisting into a grimace he tensed a fist around his weapon, ignoring the memories replaying in his mind. His budding discomfort and unhappiness leading into a staggering realisation, his fight with his leader, the leader’s anger, his own, how he had gotten up and grabbed his few things in a moment of hot-headed unthinking and pushed whatever he could not take with him into the hands of his family. They hadn’t understood, he’d realised as he’d spat out his ire to them, their reactions ranging from distraught to worried he was going to get himself in trouble to purely enraged.
The only more trouble he could have gotten in was going against his leader more, over the years.
Maybe he should have.
Even if he very well knew that would have been a death sentence.
And besides, the place would be left in good care and capable hands. Their second-in-command would take up the task of filling in whatever gaps he might have left masterfully, everyone would help out as best they could. Together they would be able to face the wrath of their leader, once that leader found out he had left...
He could not help fear it, their leader’s wrath once the truth would come to light this morning.
Sunken deeply in thought he stumbled, his feet sinking even deeper into the beach’s sand and a grunt following as he caught himself- where his fingers trailed past blades of grass and twigs, the sensation almost foreign as a smile formed on his lips. A dune, quickly climbed so he could look over it, and a whole world sprawled out in the muted light of the stars above. Crickets chirped around him, fireflies lit up the distance, a breeze that tugged at his body and made his clothes sway in the wind. Life, like he had never seen it before, and he laughed before he could help it. He had rarely been allowed to see such life up close- Another attempt of his leader to keep them all on a short leash, his mind whispered to him unbiddenly, and his smile immediately twisted into a sneer.
But that would change now. He was free to go where he wanted, free to explore wherever, free to follow his own desires without anyone telling him what to do.
He drew his vest around him more snugly, and he ran towards the first light of the sun on the horizon, until only one thought remained to echo through his mind.
He hadmade the right choice here.
He had to.
#thanks for the ask ^-^ I tried to take as many fics as possible haha#blue's writing#I love how protective Knux is of Angel Island and the Emerald... poor dude is in for a surprise
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SPOILERS FOR BATDR YOU WILL NEED TO WATCH TO PLAY-THROUGH TO UNDERSTAND WHAT THE FUCK IM TALKING ABOUT
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One thing I don't get is why the fuck is Audrey agreeing with everyone about killing bendy. My dude gained his trust to the point he sought out to talk to her before she entered Wilson's Sanctuary. There should have been a choice right there and then "believe bendy // believe Wilson"
Choose Wilson and what we had will happen
Choose bendy then you get more dialogue from him as you disable the static towers.
"You're crazy to believe I would trust you Wilson." Audrey spat at the old man. "Well then, since you won't comply willingly I'll just have to force you. Betty lock her in the room." Wilson ordered and Betty restricted Audrey and pushed her into the room. "I am terribly sorry dear; I left a little recipe for you that should let you be prepared for what is to come" she shut the door and locked it.
Alice angel happens.
The static tower destruction happens w/ bendy dialogue now.
Audrey is taken by one of the keepers and finds herself in Wilson's lab. Similar dialogue happens; as he is dialoguing Audrey is untying the ropes and when he says her soul is perfect for his creation she jumps up and tries to use her send back magic and then pushes him into the machine.
Same battle happens, bendy comes in and saves Audrey.
"It's time Audrey. It's time to end your suffering. You are a mistake, a monster,,,just like me. Join the dark puddles and this will all be over"
Audrey refuses and pets his horns saying something I'm not sure what but he goes back to being small.
No idea about joey drew. Maybe he talks to the both of them starting of with a slight focus on bendy about how he’ll set order back all thanks to his daughter Audrey. Then he focuses more on Audrey like how proud he is of her, that shes doing the right thing. Joey hands her the reel and disappears once again.
Now I don’t know about the hallway run with the lost ones since Bendy sent them. They could have thought “heh hey guys god is weak rn get him”. Cue Ink demon bendy carrying Audrey to the halls while attacking lost ones. And Audrey having to explain to Alison and Tom that the ink demon is friend. In the background you can hear sammy yelling about how they’re not TRUE followers for attacking their lord like this
Ending is the same
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Now I dont mean they should do this, i thought it would be cool. Doesn’t mean the game is bad, i fucking loved it I WAS JUST DESPERATE FOR MORE BENDY OKAY I MADE THIS WHOLE THING CAUSE I WANT BENDY
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