#being terrorized by a rat in the middle of the night for over a month is certainly a memorable experience

[garlic-and-cloves]

Today I learned that the strange sounds coming from my trash bin were not, in fact, because yet another rodent had decided to join our household as an uninvited guest, and were instead a result of the temperature difference

#my posts #random stuff #being terrorized by a rat in the middle of the night for over a month is certainly a memorable experience #and we've had quite a mouse problem over the years since then #that was not my idea of fun

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Dionysus

Hey y’all, sorry for going dark! I’m alright, almost completely recovered in fact! I just got so sleepy while my body was fighting stuff off and couldn’t really work up the energy to write... Still going to be spotty for a short time, but I’m glad to have gotten this done. See ya soon!

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus

Lucifer

Well, this mortal stumbled out of the portal covered in glitter, body paint, and carrying a red solo cup… which they proceeded to stare at like, "'ell sshhit… Thiz iz sum stron s'uff…"

First impressions were not on their side here.

He spent a depressingly long amount of time more or less assuming that the MC was a drunken f-up and spent the first few months trying to make them more… presentable.

But like… How do you stop someone from acting like a drunk fool when they can turn any drink they touch alcoholic???

For months they would show up to meetings buzzed or stumbling, all smiles and all giggles but HORRIBLY unprofessional, and he just couldn't stand it!

But then he found out their little secret…

Assassination threats befall the exchange students all the time. Most of them are dealt with quickly but some (through skill or dumb luck) manage to slip through...

He had been walking with the MC through their new vineyard in the House's courtyard, yet again trying to lecture them about their drunken behavior, when suddenly the two were ambushed!

Ten or so heavily armored demons dropped down from the sky to attack them! Lucifer was so preoccupied that he got cornered by three of them and it took him a hot minute to destroy them.

When he looked back at the mortal (who had been fighting a 1-on-7) he was certain they'd have been kidnapped or worse…

But he saw that they had already cut down two attackers with their weapon with ease. The other five were rolling in the dirt, babbling about inexplicable terrors and imaginary pain as their minds succumbed to madness…

Meanwhile, the MC just stood in the middle of it all with the icy glare of someone who’s just revealed how stone-cold sober they've always been under the surface...

When they turned back to him, they put their usual ditzy smile back on over the tormented wails of the demons around them...

MC: Whoopsie… Gotta little mad there. 🙂

He uh… took a big ol'step off their back after that. Surprisingly, they're more pleasant (and less dangerous) "drunk" than they are sober…

Mammon

Oh HELL yeah!! Lucifer actually gave him a mortal that knows how to party!!

Admittedly, they looked like utter trash when they first met, like, "Hey, I've been at this party since DAWN" trash, but they gave him one good look and pulled together a surprisingly hot smile.

MC: "-ey yer cute… Ya like strip poker?"

Spoken like someone else who also makes shit decisions… They were going to get along just fine!

And they did. The MC to him was that one friend that's always down for anything. Just anything. Whenever. Wherever.

He wants to try sneaking into Lucifer's room to steal stuff? Sure, what time?

He wants to take a mattress and see if he can ride it down the grand staircase of the palace? Alright, we bringin' pillows too?

He needs to set up another scheme that's gotta involve live rats and box of tiny hats and monocles?? That's oddly specific but count them in!!

Sometimes he honestly can't tell if they're laid back or just crave chaos... but it works out fine for him either way so who cares? 🤷‍♀️

And if you think normal Mammon is a pain in the ass for Lucifer? Check out drunk Mammon. All the same urges but literally none of the (marginal) competence!!

At one point, the eldest ended up stringing both Mammon and the MC from the ceiling after they both barged into his office looking for Goldie… while he was still in there… watching them wander around aimlessly calling out for a piece of plastic like it was a missing puppy…

They end up together on the ceiling a lot come to think of it, but hey, at least now he has some company. 😌

Leviathan

Thinks they're the most normal normie to have ever normed on this normie planet!!!

No, seriously. They're a billion times worse than Asmo!! All they want to do is go to parties and drink all the time! What kind of use is he to someone like that??

… That being said they ARE pretty fun to be around… And their sake is WAY better than anything he could get off Akuzon!!

They also like karaoke too! So at least he has someone else to go with (even if they get so drunk they can’t remember any lyrics and just belt barely coherent discount Mariah Carey vocals behind him...)

Of course, the real fun between these two is everybody else getting to watch a couple of the Devildom's sloppiest drunks attempt to communicate with each other…

Levi: MMM-*hic*-MCCC…!!! *throws himself at them from across the bar*

MC: What Leviachan??? 😨 Did the chair kick you off?!

Levi: Nooo! *pokes their cheek* I wanna-I wanna tell you sometin'...! *tries pulling them closer*

MC: Whaa? Secrets?? *leans in eagerly*

Levi: Mammon used all ma money on’a pyramid scheme a thou-zand years ago… AND HE STILL WON'T PAY ME BAAA-!!! 😭😭 *starts shaking them violently*

MC: *getting flung around like a limp noodle* Waaaat?! Nooo!!! I'm so sowwy!! 😢

Mammon: *watching it all go down right next to him* 😑 Ya guys need some water… I'm cuttin' ya off, got it?

MC: 😱 Shut yer whore mouth, criminal!! *starts pelting him with pretzel bites*

Levi: 😤 Yah!! *joins in*

Good thing he's a shut-in, because the hangovers he gets after those escapades are unreal…

Satan

A little concerned for their liver, honestly… How much damage have they already done to the poor thing...?

But at the same time, he'll be damned if they don't make some utterly fantastic wine!

Alcokinesis wasn't a power he would have pegged a demigod to have but apparently the great art of making drinks comes from their godly DNA.

When they first met, he was trying to get the MC to act less slovenly but made the mistake of agreeing to a wager: he'd let them dress however they pleased if they could give him the BEST drink he'd ever tasted.

Now, Satan isn't a huge drinker (thank you terrible alcohol tolerance), but he's still a man of fine tastes. Plus, he's sampled Demonus from Diavolo royal stock before. They should not have won…

But on that day, he had to let them go to RAD in a pink blanket toga... 😑 Their wine is just THAT good.

He hates to admit it, but they've gotten him drunk more times than he could probably count too… He's not a huge fan of clubbing with them and the others, but if they bring over a bottle from their vineyard he just can't resist. They're a master of their craft, truly.

And it's a good thing he likes their drinks so much, because if they called him, "Kitty-boy," when he's sober, he may have just become a sour grape himself…

They also may or may not have copious amounts of blackmail material of him either meowing between sentences, sobbing over some fictional character he likes, pole dancing on dares….

Yeah, he's been trying to destroy their phone for months now. If Lucifer were to see ANY of that, he's done for… 😣

He has also been meaning to ask them about other aspects of their abilities, their father is also the God of Madness after all, but anytime he tries to bring it up they shove another glass in his hand and tell him not to kill the mood...

Eh. What's the harm in having another drink, right? 🤷‍♀️

Asmodeus 

Honey. He's MET Dionysus. He's been to a Dio-party or two and they're INSANE. He could not be more thrilled by this!!!

He practically scooped them up on the first night that they were in the House and it’s practically been a nonstop rave between these two ever since. They’re like the party twin he never knew he needed!!

He absolutely abuses their ability to turn pretty much any drink they touch into alcohol at clubs. It makes the nights so much easier on the wallet PLUS it makes an excellent little party trick to impress the succubi! Who doesn’t want a free drink? 😏

And can he just say that their drinks are better? Just flat out amazing! If it weren’t so unhealthy he’d consider drinking nothing but their booze and wine for the rest of his days, Satan’s certainly getting close to it.

But little does Satan know, he’s not even getting the GOOD stuff...

There’s the normal wine: grapes picked from the vineyard, hand squeezed, then magically helped through the fermenting process. But their real good stuff? They were given enchanted oak barrels from their father and anything that comes out of those is worth starting a WAR over. 😩

He knows, because he gifted an extra bottle to Diavolo once and Barbs came to him the very next day demanding to know what vineyard had produced it with the look of man willing to annex a small nation...

Asmo had to beg Lucifer to talk to Diavolo after the butler more or less kidnapped the MC back to the Castle… Devil knows even Barbs wouldn’t ever be able to reproduce their wine, so they could have been locked there for eternity!!

Thankfully, he got his party-buddy back and their debauchery continued! (Just now with Barbatos following them around sometimes like he’s trying to gather state secrets... It’s an impossible task but he hasn’t given up yet, bless his black heart.)

Beelzebub

He isn't much bothered by their carefree nature, at least they seem to be having fun with his family which he appreciates. 🙂

To be honest, though, he nearly ate them when they first met because they smell like freshly peeled grapes… and for good reason.

By their third day at the House they had (somehow) planted and cultivated a full on vineyard in the courtyard. Hell, the wall growing to their bedroom balcony was covered in grapevines!! Always ripe and completely healthy in defiance of the lack of sun... Whatever magic they used was strong.

And, of course, their grapes were also delicious! Easily among the best fruits he's ever tasted! Every cluster is ridiculously plump, juicy, and sweet like little droplets of pure Heaven… 🤤

When their fruit first ripened, the MC came out with a basket to collect some only to find Beel had gouged himself on over half of their crop!!!

… which may have been why he got snared up on one of the courtyard walls by pissed off grapevines... Even with all his strength, he couldn't break through them and had to wait for Lucifer to cut him down… 😔 

From then on, Beel was pretty much the pesky rabbit to the MC's harvest. They had to set up traps and magical barriers to keep him from their precious grapes…!! Which inevitably meant one of his brothers had to come rescue him from their furious vines at least once a week... 🙄

SOMETIMES, the MC will bring him along to help harvest with them with the deal that he can have an extra basket for however many he helps them pick. But the second he takes a bite he shouldn't, it’s back on the wall!

Out of the vineyard, they're nice enough. But put some grapes between these two and they're mortal enemies… STOP messing with their plants, Beel!! 😤

Belphegor 

So… this drunken fool is supposed to get him out of the attic? Never mind, this is never going to work…

He was SEVERELY underwhelmed when the "human" finally made it up the steps. This was who they decided to bring for their exchange program? They seemed like they could barely stand!

Naturally, he figured all the better for him. They probably wouldn't even last that long! 

Some poor, incompetent human falling victim to a demon out there? Diavolo's reputation would in tatters and he wouldn't even have to lift a finger! (His favorite way of doing things really 😌).

But… they just kept coming back? Like. Nothing was killing them….! How guarded were they keeping this moron?? 

Or… maybe it was something else?

Sure, the MC seemed like a drunken idiot but there were times when he'd swear that they were just… too aware to be sloshed…

MC: *suddenly stops smiling at him mid-conversation and looks him in the eye* You tilt your head when you lie. You know that?

How can someone so cheerful ALSO be so unnerving…?

So really, he should have seen their sudden heel-turn after they opened the door coming. There he was, fully intending to take them by surprise and choke them after a hug…

...and they knocked him down, climbed onto his back like a spider monkey, and rode him around like a bucking bull using his horns like handlebars!!

It wouldn’t have been AS humiliating if they didn’t also keep shouting things like "Giddiyap!" And "Yee-haw!!"

It took him a whole month to be sure that any and all footage of that nightmare was erased and he STILL hates the MC quite a bit for it…. But he's too scared to attack them now, so…

The lesson here? It's not a fair fight when one side’s crazy... 😔😒

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demigods

[lovesanmotion]

yandere!ateez reacts: s/o trying to run away

This is: requested | I was supposed to upload this last night but Chrome became a bitch and I lost all what I wrote in a span of minutes only. Hekhek, pain. 

Hongjoong: 

Hongjoong may not be as tall as Yunho and Mingi, nor as active, energetic and hyper as San and Wooyoung. But what he lacks, is what he makes up for. Hongjoong is a man of calculations, precision and skill. 

You listened to the sound of Hongjoong’s footsteps exit the house, hear his car engine roar and slowly hear the wheels fade into the road. While you had been tied on the bed, you were thankful for him for two reasons: One, he didn’t inject you any sleeping drugs. Second, leaving the cutter behind the lamp at the bedside table. You struggled to get your hands on the cutter, your finger dancing on top of the table until you reached for it. Finally, unbinding your wrists first before your ankles. And then, making your move. 

You first went down to the basement, knowing that there is a door that leads to his backyard. However, the doors were sealed shut and lock on the inside. The keys are always with Hongjoong. You went back up and noticed how the windows all had bars and the only free door for you to use is the front door. You slowly walked towards the front door and the blue skies and cold air greeted you. The sounds of birds chirping and the leaves rustling through the wind. 

“What a dumb kitten you are.” Hongjoong voice spoke, a visible irritated look on his face as he had his back leaning on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. 

And you were so sure that you heard his car pull out the driveway. 

Seonghwa: 

Seonghwa’s calm and composed exterior contradicts his wild and aggressive exterior. One minute, he would be whispering you are his and his only. And the next minute he would stab the guy who tried to get your name and number at a coffee shop the other day. RIP to the guy, he was so young. 

And that’s what you fell in love with Seonghwa. He was so cool and calm in any situation that you felt like you were safe with him. Hehe, wrong. 

Grabbing a fistful of your hair, he yanked and dragged you down to the basement after you talked back at him. How you felt like shit instead of being comfortable around him. And it was only natural for Seonghwa to raise his hand at you and swung it across your face and give you punishment. 

Cuffing your ankles through a post. He raises his hand and gripped its hold on your under your chin. 

“Don’t be stupid and wait for me here, alright?” He leaned into place a kiss on your cheek despite your protest in leaning away. 

You watched as he ascends up the stairs, leaving you all alone in the basement. Looking around, there wasn’t a lot in his basement. It was just you and a couple of items that are tucked under a white blanket. You bend down forward and forcefully remove your feet off the cuff, grunting in the process. Once you were free, you ran up the stairs and went to the living room. 

But you heard someone knocking frantically on the front door. Cautiously and curiously you approached the door and slowly opened it. In front of you, an elderly woman appeared. 

“Mr. Park, I’m truly sorry, but have you seen my- who are you?” The elderly woman asked, her brows furrowing in confusion upon seeing your dishelved state. 

“Please, please, I will explain everything to you but you have to help me! Please!” You begged the woman. The elderly woman nodded her head but as she turned around, she was met with a knife piercing through her stomach. You watch in terror as Seonghwa lets out a soft sigh as he pulls the knife out before continously stabbing the elderly woman before shoving her lifeless, bloody body on the floor. 

“I mean how you can be more stupid?” 

Yunho: 

Yunho isn’t anything like Hongjoong and Seonghwa. In fact, you didn’t know how Yunho’s mind works. But one thing is for sure, he didn’t think much like a normal human. But, everyone in town loves him! He plays with kids in the park, helping out the elderly in crossing the street or carrying their groceries, he even gives food to the homeless. 

Dating Yunho felt like heaven. You loved watching him help the people and he always stuck close to you like a puppy. However, you felt like you were being suffocated in the relationship as the months go by. You tried to tell Yunho to be less clingy towards you. And he didn’t took what you said the right way. 

You woke up cold and shivering. The place was dark and you were barely able to move your body as it felt sore and aching all over. You then noticed a foul odor besides you, turning your head, you let out a scream afterwards. It was the dead, rotting body of the guy who you immediately realized as the guy who catcalled you in your campus. 

You didn’t know how and why but you struggled to getting your limp body up and crawling out of the room. Extending your hand out and then opening the door, you noticed how the house was quiet. The only thing you could hear was your ragged breath and your body sliding on the wooden floor. You plucked up your courage and dragged your body through the front door, as it was the closest to you. 

You were so close to the front door when all of a sudden Yunho came from upstairs, jogging down the stairs as he saw your body before yanking your ankle and then dragging you back. 

“Hey Officer Song! It’s me Yunho! Sorry about the screaming, its my girlfriend and she just saw a rat in the living room. What’s that? Really? That’s great! I’ll get back to you. Nice talking to you officer!” 

Yeosang: 

Unlike Yunho, Yeosang is a combination of both Hongjoong and Seonghwa. He learned the art of skill and mastery of calculations from Hongjoong and the art of calm and composure from Seonghwa. 

You and Yeosang go to the same prestigious university in Seoul. Even taking the same course (Web Design). And you weren’t sure how Yeosang had a crush on you since there’s still a hundred of people of people under your course. Yeosang was a shy and cute boy yet smart. That’s what everyone mostly knew him of. 

And it slowly started out with him buying you coffee, doodling on your textbooks with his little creation called Hehetmon and going on study dates at the library or the coffee shop inside your campus. And one day, you gave your sweet yes to Yeosang’s proposal of being his girlfriend. 

It was supposed to be that way but Yeosang one time caught you talking to a guy. He didn’t like how close you are with the guy and how you were laughing with him. He made a note to himself on finding out who is the guy you were talking to. But to you, the guy you were talking to was just your partner for an upcoming requirement. 

That night, Yeosang silently entered your home. He lets out a soft gasp as he takes in your almost naked state in bed before leaning in to smell your scent. He dips down as he starts to bind your wrists together first. Much to his dismay, you woke up. 

“Yeosang? What are you doing?” You asked, looking at how he binded your wrists and ankles. Writhing underneath him. 

“Stop moving around, bitch. You’re making things worse for me.” You have never heard him cuss but that was a first. He placed a tape on your lips to muffle your sounds, pulling out a syringe and then injecting it on your thigh. Slowly you felt drowsy before darkness consumed you. 

Hours later, you awake with a sore feeling on your lower back and upper arms. Blinking your eyes, you realized that you were binded on the chair, in front a table and Yeosang sitting on the opposite of you. 

“What did I ever do to you?” You spoke groggily to him, blinking more. “I hate you. I want to break up with you.” But Yeosang lets out a sadistic laugh. 

“Breaking up with me? Why, were in this together. Remember? Why should I let you go when I finally have you with me? Soon, you’ll realize that you are mine and you won’t need anyone else. Just like Wonho.” 

Your blood ran cold. Wonho. The guy you were working in a requirement. 

“What did you do to him?” You asked. But Yeosang only smiled sweetly at you. “Wonho? Um, well, let’s say that I worked everything out for you and you’ll be getting the perfect grade. Wonho? Hm, let’s just say that he magically disappeared.” He stood up and placed a recorder in the middle of the table. Playing the recorder as he left the room. 

“YN~ Yeosang loves you! Let’s stay together forever, alright? I love you.” Was what Yeosang said in the recorded and oh god was it on loop. 

Needless to say, you didn’t get to sleep afterwards. And maybe, just maybe, staying with Yeosang is a good idea. 

San: 

Very much like Seonghwa. But worst.  

San is a sweetheart. There’s no denying that. And you were very oblivious to the fact that he has a crush on you. You’ve always mistaken his flirtiness with kindness that you would make his pick up lines as your jokes. Of course to San it hurts, but seeing you happy is what matters. 

Everyday, San lived with the guilt of not being his and yours. He feared everyone would take you from him and it kept him on edge for most of the day. It drove him mad until he could no longer take it. He decided to kidnap you and take you to his home. 

And now here you are, on the run, you managed to successfully escape his home and now you needed a ride to take you back to the city. From what you have learned, you were in Namhae, and it approximately takes you 3 hours to get back to Seoul. You were in the brink of walking back to the city when a car pulled up in front of you. 

“I’m sorry. I can assure you that I am no creep but do you need a ride? I was just driving to visit my parents in Incheon.” Finally. Incheon was a bit close to Seoul, and you decided to take up on his offer. Climbing inside his car. But as he was about the reverse, a bullet pierced through the windows of his car. Hitting him square in the head. 

“If you wanted to go to Incheon, why didn’t you just tell me, baby?”

Mingi: 

Mingi loves to shoot range. It’s his past time and hobby. It all started when his father first time brought him to a shooting range in the province in his pubescent teen days. “One day, this will become useful.” was what his father told him. 

Despite Mingi’s tall and muscular physique is a child that still lives inside him. Sometimes it comes out, him being clumsy, active and playful. But there are moments wherein he can become mature. 

Mingi knew you love him dearly. But these days, he wasn’t sure if that was still the case. His insecurity grew day by day until he eventually ended up like San: living with the fear of you possibly leaving him one day. 

On the other hand, you were slowly falling out of love with him. And you found yourself in the presence of someone new. One Friday night, you had lied to Mingi on the phone how you were heading home when in fact, you were taking a cab somewhere else with your new guy. After hanging on the phone, it took you both a few minutes before finally a cab pulled up in front of you. 

The driver got out and moved in front of you. Was that Mingi? No. You were so sure that it wasn’t him. You turned around and found him aiming gun point at your new guy before blasting his brains out. 100 points to Mingi for bloodshed. 

“So, this is the guy you were leaving me for?”  

Wooyoung: 

“IF YOU LOOK BACK, YOU’RE MINE” 

You remove one of your earphones and looked back at Wooyoung. “What did you say?” but you watched as he jumped out in joy at the open space. Wierd. 

Wooyoung is a reallyyyyy clingy boy. And boy did he love to pester you about your boyfriend. You found it weird, why would he always ask for details about your boyfriend? Everytime you asked him why, he would just shrug. And of course you never gave him the details that you wanted. That’s just weird. 

Your boyfriend meant everything to you. And recently, he was so happy talking to you about how he made a new friend. You were really happy how he was so happy that he made a friend that you told him to invite him to dinner one night. 

And that night finally came. You were in the kitchen while cooking and any minute the guest would arrive. You felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your wasit. You leant your back on his chest, submitting to his touch. 

“If you look back, you’re mine.” You let out a soft gasp and then you turned out. Coming face to face with Wooyoung before blacking out. 

Jongho: 

Jongho was someone is very different from your boyfriend. Jongho was soft and understanding and always was willing to listen to your rants about your everyday life. Whereas your boyfriend kept you under his toxic behavior or leaving you and then showing up a few days. Always partying and hooking up with random girls. 

You oftenly wonder why you could never get away from your boyfriend. You mind kept telling you to leave all the toxicity behind, but your heart says to endure the pain as he told you that he is willing to change for you. And he mentioned that a year ago and there was still no new change. 

It was just you and Jongho inside a coffee shop, sitting near the window where you would tell him about your day and what were the things you did. And seeing Jongho being immersed with what you have to say made you so happy. Although your momentarily happiness was cut short when your toxic boyfriend came in and told you to come with him. 

You wanted to stay with Jongho but you found yourself going with your boyfriend. And Jongho was not okay with that. 

He followed you and your boyfriend through the dark alley. There wasn’t a lot of people in the area and Jongho took this for his advantage. 

“Jongho?” He came up both from behind. Laying a hand on his shoulder before tackling him on the ground, beating your boyfriend up like a pulp. 

“Jongho! Stop it! Stop it!” You pleaded, pushing him away by his shoulder. When he stood up, you looked at the bloodied face of your boyfriend who looked like he was half dead. 

“Were you really going to leave me there for this guy, Y/N?” Jongho’s question and uneasy calm voice shook you. 

“You couldn’t leave him because the sex is great, isn’t it? I know you. That’s why you can’t leave him. And there’s a part of you that’s still holding onto him. What about me? Don’t you think I deserve a chance as I’m the one who’s with you all this time?” 

The guilt kicked in and Jongho’s words started to brim tears in your eyes. You were unsure, that’s true. However- 

“If you leave me one more time, I will not hesitate to do the same thing to your parents. They’re old, right? It would make beating and killing them easier.” 

#Ateez hongjoong #ateez mingi #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez jongho #ateez yunho #ateez seonghwa #ateez wooyoung #ateez reactions #ateez yandere #ateez scenarios

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Dangerous Love (Pt. 07 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 2.9K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

<- Previous part (06)

Next part (08)->

{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

×

The Calm Before The Storm

• Bruce's POV •

I'm suddenly awake by a scream. Sitting up abruptly, I take in the silence. A bad dream probably. Running a hand through my hair, I lie back down, staring at the ceiling. Then I hear it again, a call for help and another yell.

(Y/N).

As soon as I recognize her voice, I'm already up, taking the key to her room and running there. Is she hurt? There's nothing in there that would cause an accident. When I'm close, I hear groans, like a cry.

But when I open the door, I find her on the bed, hugging her pillow tight. The soft light coming from the window reflects on the many tears on her face. What is it that scares her so much? She's breathing fast, hands clenched into fists.

Without thinking, I lie beside her, delicately touching her shoulder, trying to wake her up as softly as I can.

“Wake up.”

• (Y/N's) POV •

A voice calls you, and you're pulled away from your terror. You know who's calling, and you immediately feel safe. Bruce is saving you from the nightmares, and it seems like whenever he's in the dream, the bad ones don't come again.

“Bruce.” He's lying behind you, so you take his arm, pulling it over your waist. “If you hold me I won't be scared,” you mumble, moving closer to him. “Don't leave me.”

“I won't.” His illusion answers, and it feels so real. Why can't this be real? Because you're a villain, and he's the hero... Because you would never be brave enough to do this in real life. And Bruce would never want to hold you like this.

“Bruce?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

His voice is low on your ear, and you can't help but smile at the name he calls you. You feel his chest moving as he breaths. “This isn't real.”

“Why can't this be real?”

“Because nobody would love me.”

“You're wrong.” His thumb caresses your chin, and you smile again.

“I think I could fall in love with you,” you mutter.

“Me too.” His answer seems familiar as if you've already had this conversation before. Maybe in another dream. “Now get some sleep.”

“Ok.”

You're not scared anymore. With him, you know you'll be safe.

•••

You're happy today. You had a good night sleep, and you're one year older, which means you managed to stay alive for another entire year. And you're celebrating it out of that hell hole Belle Reve. You're brushing your hair, smiling to yourself when you hear the door opening.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hey, Bruce!” You exclaim, leaving the bathroom.

“I brought you this. But it's not your gift yet.” He shows you the plastic bag he's carrying.

“What is it?”

He searches for something in it, showing you a box die. “I had these for a while. It's the closest color to your natural hair.”

Hesitantly, you take the small box from his hand. It seems to have two more in the bag, and some other things. You knew he didn't like your hair. “Thanks...” You mumble, wondering if dyeing your hair would make him like you. Looking away, you make your way to the bed.

“You don't have to do it you don't want to.”

“I get it, Bruce. You want me to look normal.” And as quick as that, the day is ruined. Bruce doesn't like you, obviously, look at you. You're Havoc, a criminal. You can't look at him right now, so you put the box on the nightstand and lie down, pulling the blankets to cover your head. “Can you just bring me breakfast and leave me alone, please?” You can't deal with it right now. The best you can do is dream... In your dreams, Bruce hugs you, so tight... In your dreams, he's yours.

“(Y/N).” He calls, softly.

“Get out, Bruce,” you beg.

“I don't care about your hair color. I bought you this in case you wanted the natural color back. It's not about me, it's about you.”

“Then...” You sit up, watching as he sits on the edge of the bed. “...What if I wanted to dye the roots lilac?”

“Tell me what you'll need and I'll get it for you.” His stare is intense, yet gentle. Slowly, he puts his hand above yours in the mattress. “You're beautiful. Lilac hair or not. Now, come. I want to take you somewhere.”

“Where?” A smile comes to your lips as you get up to follow Bruce. He opens the door, and you give a little jump. “Are you taking me to see the gardens?”

“Yes. But you'll have to keep your eyes closed until we get there.”

Nodding, you close your eyes. Bruce takes your hand, and you cling on his arm. You walk slowly, mostly downstairs. You suddenly feel fresh wind on your hair and the lighting changes. You're outside. “Just a while longer now.”

“Alright.” You have to control yourself not to peak. Being here is already amazing. Bruce trusts you, right? He wouldn't do that if he didn't.

Stopping suddenly, you bite your lip. “Open.” When you do, you swear to God your heart stops.

There's a wooden table, and pink, purple and white balloons. A beautiful cake in the middle, cupcakes, colorful macarons... Confetti all over the place. You can't help but cry, but you don't try to hide it. You're still holding Bruce's arm, unable to move. Is it really for you? You don't deserve it.

“Bruce, I...”

“Happy Birthday, (Y/N).” He says, pulling you with him until you're at the table. “I hope you like it.”

“I... I don't even know what to say. My birthdays were like... Just robbery and then... This is...” You take a macaron, a blue one, and take a bite. “This is incredible.”

“That's not all.” Bruce walks around the table, taking two boxes he left of the bench, piled one above the other. “Your gifts.”

“Two?”

“Two. One for each month you've been here.” He puts them on the table, gesturing for you to approach. You're blushing hard now. “Open.”

“Alright.” Unable to hide the smile, you shily start open the biggest box. Inside, you find a beautiful, sparkly silver dress. As you pull it up to take a better look, the fabric is soft on your skin. It has a sweetheart neckline and spaghetti straps, bareback. “Do you think I'll look good in it?”

“We'll find out tonight at dinner,” Bruce answers with a smile.

“Dinner?”

He simply nods. “Open the next one.”

Taking a deep breath, you lie the dress down, focusing on the other box. Black high heels, Mary Jane flatforms if you're not wrong, with red bottom. It goes with the dress, apparently. “They look badass,” you say, holding one in your hands. “Are those for tonight too?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you... Nobody cared enough to give me something for my birthday. Not without me asking... Or demanding.” Shaking your head to push away the thought, you focus on what's happening now. “So... Thanks again.”

“Hey, no bad thoughts ok? No bad memories.” Bruce takes your hand over the table and you smile. “Now eat your cake.”

That's the sweetest morning you ever had. Bruce doesn't seem in a hurry to leave or to do anything else. You just sit there eating a little of everything. You take in the whole scenario, but Bruce is better than all this. Having him here with you... It's amazing. You never spent a birthday with someone you loved...

With someone you care about, you mean.

When it's time for lunch, you just start eating again.

“So... Were you here last night? Or did Batman went to patrol the streets?” You ask him, a hand caressing the fabric of your dress.

“I slept in yesterday night.” There's something weird in his voice, but you have no idea what it is. “What about you? Did you sleep well?”

Your mind floats back to the dream. It never felt so real, it's like your brain is pulling a joke on you. Maybe it's just your confused feelings playing tricks. You remember his arm around you, his chest pressed against your back, the warmth coming from his body... You'd give everything you have to make it real. Or everything you had, because now it's kinda obvious you can't claim those things. And you don't think you want to.

“Yes, I... I had the best dream and it... It made me feel safe.”

“Would you tell me?”

“I can't...” Whispering, you avoid his gaze. Does he dream about you too? Of course, he doesn't. “Good dreams mean something is working, right?”

“Yes, but that's not me. It's you... I just gave you a little push in the right direction.”

“Yeah... Uhm, it's getting late. I'll take a shower and read a little.” You need to go back to your room to think. The sun will start setting soon anyways.

“Do that. I'll call you when dinner is ready.” Nodding, you stand up and take your gifts, making your way back, but you stop when you notice he's not following you.

“Hey?” You call. “Let's go. Game Of Thrones book two is waiting for me.”

“You can go.”

Tilting your head to the side, you turn on your heels to look at him. “What do you mean?” You know the key is in his pocket.

“(Y/N), just go.” Even though the distance, you see a smile on his lips. “I won't lock your door.”

“Don't trust me too much, Bruce.”

“It's a little too late for that.” That said, he gets up, walking inside, and leaving you alone.

Taking a deep breath, you decide you can't deal with this before a long damn shower and some pages of the book. So you make your way upstairs, and you spend two hours in the bathroom, thinking. There's a lot going on in your head.

There's a part of you, a small part you figured out, that still wants to be Havoc. That part was what made you run and break the kitchen window. But there's something else entirely, another part, that wants the past to be in the past. The life you had out there was good. You had mountains of money, fast cars, expensive jewels...

Things.

You had plenty of things.

What Bruce gave you here, is beyond all that. He cared about you. Not because he has to, for being some of your employees. But because he saw something inside you that you couldn't. He looks at you with such kindness, he touched you so softly... You think you found yourself, the real you, behind all the walls you built. You had a hell lot of fun out there, in Gotham's streets... But at the end of the day, there was always the possibility of being caught. And for people like you, being caught means getting hurt... Badly. And there was emptiness too. Loneliness. It's not a good feeling to know people only care because they fear you. You know that now.

You know what you want. You want a better life. You have no idea how to get it, but you'll ask Bruce for help.

After the night falls, you put on the dress. It's beautiful, breathtaking. You look like someone else. The shoes make you a lot taller, but not as tall as Bruce. But you'll be closer to his lips, you're sure. When you turn around to see the back, you sigh to notice the bruises will be showing. Such a nice dress wasn't made for you... You have no idea what to do with your hair, so you have no option but to let it down. It doesn't look good...

There won't be anyone here, but you'll still feel misplaced...

A knock on the door makes you jump. “Miss (Y/N). Master Bruce is waiting for you downstairs.” Alfred announces.

You wish you had some make-up. You should've asked Bruce to buy you some. But now it's too late for that. Your hair isn't styled, your face is blank and the dress, which is supposed to beautifully leave your back exposed, shows off awful, disgusting bruises... But you have to go down there. So you breathe in deeply and walk out.

• Bruce's POV •

I hear the soft click of the high heels on the floor, and seconds later she appears, at the top of the stairs. It's impossible to hold back the smile that fights its way to my lips. I can't take my eyes off her as she carefully comes downstairs, a hand on the handrail. The dress fits her perfectly. My guess is that (Y/N) looks beautiful no matter what she wears, or what color she puts on her hair.

Her eyes wander around, to the lights, the chandelier, the table I set for us in the middle of the hall. And a smile, hesitant at first, takes over her features. From her lips up to her eyes, lighting her up.

“It's wonderful.” She says, stopping before me, yet avoiding my eyes. “I didn't notice how huge this place is. I would easily get lost.”

I'm looking down at her, taking her in. Her scent, delicate and unmistakable, draws me closer. She doesn't seem to notice though. “You'll learn,” I assure her, and she finally looks at me with funny eyes. She doesn't believe me.

“So you'll let me walk around the house now?”

“One more birthday gift.” I trust her. I saw as she broke the window glass, and punched through it, with my heart burning.

The thought of losing her that night suffocated me. Nothing scared me so much. But she suddenly stopped, and so did my world. Slowly, I watch as she stepped down the sink and silently walked away. That made me realize it's useless to pretend (Y/N) doesn't own my heart. It's in her possession, and she doesn't even know.

I walk beside her as she paces around, curious eyes observing every detail. As she comments on everything, I wonder where to go from now. From the acknowledgment of love. I've never been there. I never thought I'd be able to hold such a feeling, but (Y/N) has proven me wrong, as she's doing to everyone who thought she was a waste of time.

It's a lot easier to be Batman than to figure out these things. These feelings. I can't help but wonder if she feels the same.

She held me so close, on those nights she thinks I was a dream. She said it herself, that she could fall in love with me. Was it true? Is it happening? Should I ask? I'd know what to do if she was like the women who have tried to approach me. But it's (Y/N)... And I don't know what to do. My guard is down, and these feelings keep flooding my heart.

There's only one thing I know for sure. That my heart isn't my own again.

• (Y/N's) POV •

“That's the nicest thing someone did for me,” you admit, turning to face him. You have to focus on not letting him see your back. “It looks like a fairy tale.”

“I'm happy you like it.”

“I–” A soft song starts playing, coming from everywhere. A hell of a sound system he has. “There aren't many ladies to dance with this time, Bruce Wayne,” you tell him as he takes your hand, pulling you close.

“Good. That means I can dance with you all night.”

“You- you shouldn't say things like this,” you mutter, feeling his arms around your waist. Your hands lay on his biceps as he starts to swing from side to side, slowly. And yes, you are closer to his lips now. But he'd still have to bend down a little... You mean, if he ever considered kissing you. Which he probably never did.

“Why not?”

“Nevermind... Just...” You wrap your arms around his neck, your bodies standing close. You smile to feel his thumb caressing the bare skin on your back. “Bruce, I could never pay you back. Not only for this but... For everything you have done for me.”

“I'm not asking for anything in return.” He takes one of your hands, but when he moves you to spin around, you stop suddenly.

“No,” you mutter, going back into his arms. It was supposed to go completely unnoticed, but you feel his eyes burning on you.

“Something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” you mumble, eyes on his chest.

“(Y/N)? Didn't you promised to be honest?” You stop dancing, and he steps back a little, an index finger on your chin, pulling your head up until you're looking into his eyes. “What's wrong?”

“I... The dress is absolutely beautiful but... My back is all wreck and it looks so awful that... This dress wasn't made me someone like me... It just... My skin is still all bruised and...”

“I don't care. You're beautiful.”

Biting your lip, you have to control yourself. You want so badly to kiss him... And when he says things like this it only gets worse. “If you keep saying things like that I might end up thinking you like me so... Don't.”

“Maybe I want you to think that.”

“What?” As you speak, some sort of alarm goes off. Two loud beeps. A pause. Them two more beeps. “What's that?”

“Something happened. Something bad.” Bruce pulls you close suddenly, placing a kiss on your forehead. Your whole body burns, and you gasp for air. “I'm sorry, I'll have to go.”

“It's ok. Go get them, Batman.” You say with a smile, watching as he steps away, slowly at first, before turning around and leaving.

Alfred serves you dinner, and he also acts more kindly. Then you go to bed, the feeling of Bruce's lips on your forehead still burning. You're almost falling asleep when the door is opened, and a very worried Bruce makes you sit up abruptly.

“Hi.”

“(Y/N), I need you to listen to me.” He comes to sit beside you, and you hear a noise, like an airplane coming closer. “There's another Task Force X mission. And they demand you to go.”

“What?” It's hard to process what he's saying. “No.” You push yourself backwards until your back hits the headboard. “What- what do you mean?”

“There was nothing I could do.”

“No,” you repeat, hands covering your face. “Tell them I won't go.” You made a decision today, that you want a different life. Now, this... This can't be happening. Not now. Not when you're finally putting yourself back together. “Bruce, please.” You're crying, suddenly moving into his arms, tugging on his shirt. “I don't want to go.”

“Listen.” Bruce holds both your shoulders, his intense eyes on yours. “You're a strong woman. I'm sorry you have to do this and I promise... I promise you I'll never let them make demands of you again. You won't be their prisoner anymore.”

“Bruce...” You beg, eyes closing as you realize this noise is from their ship. They're already coming to take you.

“Listen.” He cups your face. “You'll track down some terrorists. They attacked a small town in New Mexico. You'll be doing something good, helping people.”

“Like you?” You whisper, your foreheads touching.

“Like me, yes.” A quick smile crosses his lips. “I will free you from them. I promise.”

“But I'll come back here, right?”

“Yes. They'll bring you here when the mission is over.”

The noise gets louder and louder until it stops. They're here.

Bruce walks beside you, silently. You're shaking like a leaf. When you reach the front door, you hear people talking. Taking a deep breath, you tell yourself that you can do this. You have to. Because you have to come back.

“Are you–”

You let the impulse fulfill its purpose this time. Pulling Bruce by the collar of his shirt, you tiptoe, crushing your lips on his. You swear you feel a little dizzy, but you don't give him time to react. Stepping back, your strength suddenly renewed, you open the front door and face the guards that came here to take you away.

×

@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker

#imagine bruce #bruce imagine #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne imagine #imagine bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #ben affleck batman #imagine batman #batman imagine #batman x reader #Justice League imagine #justice league imagine

[awkwardpenguinproductions]

Debrief

Part 7 of the Dragon of the Yuyan

Read on AO3 | Series Masterpost

…the thunder of crashing boulders…

…Hwan’s green eyes, wide with terror, framed by a Fire Nation Infantry helmet…

…the heat of the fires, bathing his face with the stench of burning hair and flesh…

…Father’s voice, sneering “suffering will be your teacher”…

The shriek of terror and remembered pain is strangled in his throat as Zuko snaps awake, drenched in cold sweat and panting like he’s been tree-running for an entire day. The Yuyan dorm is dark and quiet, everyone is still asleep, and Zuko simply lies in his bunk and breathes.

It’s been a week since Chihese and Haili Squads returned from Huzhen, two weeks since the battle (slaughter) itself, and Zuko has had nightmares every night. Every time he closes his eyes to sleep, he sees the captive earthbenders dressed in Fire Nation uniforms as they’re buried by their own countrymen, feels the fire thrown by the Third Infantry Corps as they overwhelm the tiny Earth Kingdom company… feels his face burn as Ozai caresses him with flames.

He wants to climb into Kai’s bunk, like he has every time he had a nightmare or a major panic attack in the last almost two years. But he’s turning sixteen in two months, he’s no longer a child, and hasn’t been since he was discarded in the Earth Kingdom wilderness like an unruly and unwanted house pet. He can’t go running to his best friend every time he has a bad dream anymore. They barely fit on the same bunk anymore, anyway—Kai has always been tall and lanky, but at the age of twenty has topped out at six feet and gained the shoulders to match. Zuko himself has shot up to nearly 5’6” and gotten his shoulders early, much to Kai’s chagrin. If Zuko tries to sneak into Kai’s bunk, one of them is going to end up on the floor.

No, he's not a kid anymore. He can deal.

He slips out of his bunk and silently works his way through the Stronghold to the komodo-rhino stables. The stables are quiet but for the sounds of the rhinos shifting and breathing in their sleep, and Zuko silently scales the building to perch on the roof, facing the east.He's exhausted, but he never goes back to sleep after one of these nightmares. If he's lucky, he'll only have a couple of hours before he'd wake up naturally from the sunrise, but tonight's not a lucky night––there's several hours between now and dawn. He sighs, and settles himself to meditate, feeling his inner flame race through his chi paths and chase away the chill of the mountain night.

His thoughts refuse to settle, though. They race around his skull like trapped rats:

How could Hanzou do something so horrible?

It was an excellent strategy.

It was cruel!

They were going to be executed or imprisoned anyway.

It was dishonorable!

There is no honor in war.

Then maybe the war should end.

Zuko opens his eyes with a gasp. End the war? The war was meant to bring the Fire Nation’s light to the world, to demonstrate their superiority to the other Nations.

How in the depths of Koh’s lair does murdering an entire squad of captured prisoners in cold blood make the Fire Nation in any way superior?

But that’s treason, to think like that. Zuko has given up on attempting to feel anything other than fear and contempt for Ozai, has given up believing in the power of his royal blood after being so very thoroughly disowned by his father and Fire Lord, but he is still a citizen of the Fire Nation, a loyal one.

But… how can he claim loyalty to a nation that commits crimes against other humans in the name of spreading greatness? He has no doubt that Ozai will reward Lieutenant General Hanzou handsomely for his actions at Huzhen—the Fire Lord has demonstrated repeatedly that he cares little for his own people, let alone helpless enemy prisoners of war, and will commend Hanzou for his creativity in solving two problems in such a simple action. This will encourage (has encouraged, Zuko can never forget his failure to prevent the death of the 41st) other generals to try equally ruthless tactics to earn the Fire Lord’s favor for themselves, perpetuating his bloodlust all over the world. Ozai has turned Sozin’s admittedly megalomaniacal dream of spreading Fire Nation greatness into a nightmare of fire and death for the other nations, and has turned the Fire Nation into exactly the kind of savages his people are taught to believe the other nations are.

This war has to end, and it can’t end with a Fire Nation victory. If that makes him a traitor to the Fire Nation, then so be it, but he would rather save his nation’s soul than perpetuate its cruelties. He doesn’t know how he’ll do it, but there’s got to be some way to end the fighting, end the war, without the complete destruction of one side or the other.

Uncle Iroh had come back from the Siege of Ba Sing Se with an urn containing the ashes of Cousin Lu Ten’s body and a quiet but powerful belief in the importance of balance. In oneself, in one’s life, and in the world itself. Zuko had thought the old man had gone a little nuts from the trauma of losing Lu Ten, but now… now he can kind of see what his uncle was talking about. It makes Zuko wonder if Uncle, too, saw how the Fire Nation was destroying itself as its leaders destroyed the world.

He can’t let it continue.

Terrified green eyes wide in a pallid face framed by a Fire Nation Infantry helmet…

A shoe scuffs almost silently on the roof, and Commander Toshiaki steps out of the darkness and settles himself a polite distance from Zuko.

Zuko’s nerves buzz and he has to consciously keep himself from tensing up. Damn his luck. The moment he makes the conscious decision to commit treason against the Fire Nation, and who shows up but his Agni-damned commanding officer.

The Commander softly snaps his fingers, and Zuko automatically gives him his attention.

It’s not uncommon for soldiers to have trouble sleeping after their first taste of combat, he signs, slow and easy, his expression serene.

Zuko grits his teeth. That wasn’t combat, Commander, he replies, signs sharp. That was a slaughter.

He fully expects to be reprimanded, but the Commander merely bows his head in concession.

I agree.

Zuko watches in mild shock as the Commander continues.

What happened at Huzhen was a tragedy and should never have happened, he signs. What happened to the 41st Division was a tragedy and should never have happened. The Siege of Ba Sing Se, the predations of the Southern Raiders, the attack on the Northern Water Tribe, the destruction of Taka… the genocide of the Air Nomads. All tragedies, none of which should have ever happened.

Zuko watches as his superior hesitates, just for a split second, completely invisible to a civilian's eye but as obvious and shocking as lightning.

Your farce of an Agni Kai was a tragedy, and should never have happened, Commander Toshiaki finishes, looking Zuko in the eye.

For moments that feel like years, neither of them move. Zuko barely dares to breathe. But when several minutes pass and the Commander makes no move to attempt to restrain him for arrest and return to Caldera, Zuko tentatively raises his hands.

How long have you known?

The Commander smiles wryly. I'd had no idea until Dr. Atsuko told me about two weeks after your arrival. Apparently her uncle was present.

Zuko does not want to talk about this, but his hands move without his permission. Him and the entire fucking Caldera, he snaps out, feeling the flash of heat over his eye that always accompanied even a passing thought of the spirits-damned mockery of a duel that was meant to end his life.

The Commander is still. Waiting, endlessly patient, like the hunter he's been training Zuko to be for almost two years.

Why didn't you turn me in? Zuko asks, morbidly curious. He hadn't hidden his identity, he'd just known that after six months of living by himself in the middle of nowhere, no one would believe him if he tried to insist that he was the missing Fire Prince. "Zuko" wasn't a hugely popular name, but it wasn't rare.

For a long time, the Commander doesn't answer. He just sits beside Zuko, not too close, and leans back on his hands and stares up at the stars. Zuko wants to get impatient, to snap his hands around the signs and demand answers, but he grips his knees until his knuckles and fingertips turn white and waits.

Finally, the Commander sits up, bringing his hands up to sign.

I have been a loyal soldier of the Fire Nation for seventeen years, he signs, not seeming to actually look at Zuko. I have done many things in the service of my country, but they have always been in line with my own morals. But that… that was a step too far. You are a child. You were a child then, and you are a child now. There is no action that you could take or had taken that should have been met with violence of any kind, much less on that scale. You should have been sent to bed without dessert, or made to write lines or do conditioning drills, not–

–Getting my face burned off? Zuko finishes, tilting his head and smirking lightly.

The Commander scowls at him, then a small smirk of his own breaks through and he chuckles silently.

I don’t know how to explain it any better, but after Atsuko left, I thought about you, and about how kind you are, and how much better things might be if you were Fire Lord, and suddenly I was doing everything in my power to keep you alive to become Fire Lord.

So I’m a bargaining chip. Zuko keeps his expressions and body tightly under control, burying his hurt.

NO.

He jumps at the force of the sign, at the way the Commander seems to double in size as he leaned forward with his shoulders thrown back aggressively, his hairless eyebrows furrowed low over his dark eyes, mouth turned firmly down. He may as well have been shouting.The Commander relaxes a bit as he continues to sign, but he still leans toward Zuko just a little bit in his eagerness. You are not a bargaining chip, Zuko. You are not some prize to control. You are the closest thing to a son that I am ever going to have, and I am so incredibly proud of the man you are becoming before my very eyes. I didn’t report you because what the Fire Lord did to you is wrong, it was cruel and despicable and the fact that no one else seems to have had any problem with it just goes to show how far our great Nation has fallen. You are a child, and I wanted to protect you and give you the time you needed to heal and grow and decide what it is you want to do with your life. If you decide to enlist officially in the Archers, I will be happy to help you falsify the documents you need and approve them. If you decide to move to Ba Sing Se as a refugee and live in peace, then I will do everything in my power to ensure your safe passage. He takes a deep breath, and folds himself into full kneel atop the narrow peak beam of the stable roof. It’s not a full kowtow, because he needs his hands to speak, but it shocks Zuko just the same.

If my Prince decides to take up arms against the tyrant Fire Lord, then it will be my honor and my privilege to dedicate my life and my bow to his service.

It takes Zuko a moment to realize what’s happening, but when he does he nearly falls off the roof. His spirits-damned commanding officeris swearing fealty to him, Zuko, the prince who was burned and thrown out of his homeland to die. This man saved him, risked court martial and prison and even death to keep Zuko from being discovered and executed by his father, and here he is, dedicating his life to some hypothetical and certainly suicidal bid Zuko might make for the throne. He can’t breathe.

Please… please get up… he signs shakily, and pulls on the Commander’s arm. The older man sits, but keeps his head respectfully bowed. Zuko gathers up the tattered remains of his composure. I don’t understand what you want from me. You would really just… let me go? After two years? If I said I didn’t want to continue being part of the Archers, or didn’t want to try to overthrow my father? You would just… let me go? He’s never felt like the Archers were keeping him hostage, but learning that his commanding officer knew who he was this entire time and had kept the knowledge secret is messing with his perceptions.

Commander Toshiaki looks heartbroken as he signs, Of course I would. All I want is for you to be safe and happy. If you decide to find that safety and happiness behind the walls of Ba Sing Se, then I will forge the paperwork required and escort you there myself. I would miss you terribly, and Kai may never forgive me, but I would rest well knowing that you are happy and safe.

Zuko is sorely tempted, the memories of Huzhen sending icicles up and down his spine. But his people would still be killing and dying and poisoning themselves and the rest of the world with their hate and unchecked aggression while he hid safe and contented behind Ba Sing Se’s massive walls, and he knows like he knows his own name that if he chooses that road, he would go crazy from the inaction.

He’s also tempted to hold to his and the Commander’s original deal, to enlist in the Yuyan Archers as soon as he was of age, but that would severely limit the kind of action he could take to try to end the war. He’d still be perpetuating the Fire Nation’s crimes, and he knows that eventually the dissonance of his beliefs and his actions would drive him just as crazy as he would be if he was hiding in Ba Sing Se and doing nothing.

There’s only one thing for it, then.

This war has to end, Commander, he signs finally. I want to have a hand in ending it. Do you have any ideas on how to go about that?

The look on Commander Toshiaki’s face is one Zuko has never seen before, pride so fierce and joyful that it makes Zuko’s face and ears and the back of his neck burst into flame with the heat of his blush. Only Uncle Iroh (only Mom) has ever looked at him like that.

You honor me, my Prince, the older man replies, and bows with the Flame. Zuko returns it, feeling like a few of the missing pieces of his soul have finally clicked into place.

They stay up on the roof of the komodo-rhino stables until nearly dawn, hammering out plan after plan after plan for every contingency they can think of, and a few that Zuko hopes will never come to pass because if they do, then the entire world is screwed.

In the end, they decide that Plan A is for Zuko to continue on as he has been, and enlist in the Archers the moment he turns eighteen. With his extra four years of experience, he’ll shoot up the ranks, and hopefully make Captain and have his own Squad by age twenty, which will provide him with command experience. Once Azula turns eighteen and is crowned Heir Apparent, it’ll only be a matter of time before she decides to seize power for herself, and by then Zuko will be more than ready to challenge her for the Caldera Throne.

It means another four years at least of war, of his people suffering, and that chafes at Zuko like sand in between his toes, but as he steps up his training in firebending, in swordsmanship, and in archery and stealth arts, he contents himself with the knowledge that this is the most logical path to ending the war. He cannot face Ozai. Just the thought makes his entire body shake and his mind race like a mouse in a trap. Better to wait for Azula to make her move and avoid the Fire Lord completely than to risk freezing up and getting killed for the hesitation.

A few weeks after the rooftop… thing (revelation? discussion? conspiracy? conspiracy), Kai corners him in the farthest corner of the training yards, where Zuko likes to practice with his dao.

What the fuck is up with you? He signs, sitting on Zuko’s stomach after ambushing him into a mild wrestling match. Zuko’s slippery, but Kai has height and weight on his side, and their matches tend to end in draws more often than not, but this time Kai isn't playing. Zuko's arms are trapped against his sides by Kai's knees, and the older boy is pressing down with just enough weight to ensure that Zuko can't break free of the hold, and his expression is pouty and annoyed but his eyes are concerned. Zuko relaxes into the pin, and simply raises his eyebrow.

Kai rolls his eyes, and gets up. Zuko sits up and takes a few deep breaths, but otherwise doesn't move.

Well? Kai demands, signs sharp with impatience, standing on the balls of his feet as though ready to move at a second's notice. You've been so weird since we got back from Huzhen. Honestly, I expected the nightmares, I've had them too, but you've stopped going to the stables and the hawks and you barely talk to anyone! All you do is train, you barely even eat or sleep! What the actual fuck, Zuko?

Oops. Zuko winces, scratching the side of his head. He hadn't meant to get so wrapped up.

You're right, he signs. I'm sorry, I've had a lot on my mind recently

.Kai frowns, and settles himself on the ground directly in front of Zuko. Talk to me. Maybe I can help, or at least be a friendly ear.

Zuko barely has to think about it for a second. Kai is his best friend, his brother in everything but blood, and he trusts him even more than he trusts the Commander at times.

He explains everything. His identity as the (former) Crown Prince, the Agni Kai, his abandonment in the wilderness. How the massacre at Huzhen had made him realize what the war was doing to their country, to their people. How the Commander had known all of this time exactly who he was, and how the man is helping him in his conspiracy to commit treason by simply being alive and planning to take back his throne when his scheming sister makes her play for it.

Through it all, Kai's eyes never leave his body, taking in everything. There are several points where it looks like the older boy (older man, Kai is twenty now, and when on earth did they all grow up?) might interrupt, but he restrains himself admirably. His face is pure rage when he learns how Zuko got his scar, and again when Zuko describes the realization that he had been left for dead in the mountains, but he doesn't move. When Zuko is finished, his hands and brain exhausted, Kai sits for a few moments, eyes closed.

You know, I always thought it was weird that an obviously full-blooded Fire Nation kid just randomly showed up here, he finally muses. Especially one so obviously noble-blooded.

So you’re not mad? Zuko didn’t think he would be, Kai loves a good prank, but it’s always helpful to know where he stands so that there aren’t any surprises.

Kai chuckles silently, and digs a knuckle into the top of Zuko’s head. Dumbass, he signs, grinning crookedly, his eyes warm with affection. You were doing what you needed to do to survive. Nothing wrong with that. I was just worried about you— there’s all sorts of horror stories about bad reactions soldiers have to their first combat experience. I wanted to make sure you weren’t trying to do anything stupid.

Thanks, Kai, Zuko signs, grinning.

I got your back, Prince Danger Noodle, Kai replies, winking at him.

With Kai in the loop, Zuko’s archery training takes off, as the older Private teaches Zuko everything he knows about hitting exactly where he aims every single time, no matter the conditions. They drill relentlessly, in any spare moment that Zuko’s not practicing his firebending or his dao.

The summer fades, and Zuko celebrates his sixteenth birthday by breaking into Shinu’s office, stealing the three massive jugs of baijiu the Colonel keeps there, and getting impressively drunk with Kai, Jiyoti, Min-Seo, and some of the other younger soldiers stationed at the Stronghold. He doesn’t remember much past the first several swallows, but he does remember it being one of the single best birthdays he’s ever had. Then the hangover hits in the morning, and he spends PT wishing that someone would shoot him and end his misery. Captain Hiroki and Commander Toshiaki are entirely unsympathetic, and Master Ryoichi gleefully pummels him in sparring, taking advantage of his infirmity to teach Zuko how to fight while impaired. It's grueling, and surprisingly vicious for the usually fair-minded Master, with any number of assailants jumping in and out at any given moment, but Zuko manages a pretty solid win, despite his spinning head and churning gut. Afterward, as Zuko sits on the side and wishes for a dark hole to crawl into, the Master announces that Zuko is a Firebending Master. Zuko responds by throwing up at the Master's feet.

Fall passes, and Zuko makes a consistent habit of breaking into the Stronghold's communications hub and reading every report he can get his hands on, with specific attention paid to the Fire Nation Army's movements in the Earth Kingdom. He learns everything he can, memorizes codes, locations, and personnel, some tiny, paranoid part of his mind urging him that no knowledge is wasted, even if it would be rendered obsolete within the next week. Despite obsolescence, no report is ever thrown away–– the hub contains scrolls dating back to Pouhai's founding as a frontier garrison in the very early days of the war, only weeks younger than the Yu Dao colony. It's here that Zuko encounters a written account of the Avatar legend, copied for posterity on the fiftieth anniversary of Sozin's attack on the Air Temples and then shoved in the back of the shelf and forgotten. Zuko skims it, reads maintains balance between the Four Nations, and finds himself wondering for a moment what life might have been like had the Avatar cycle not been broken. Then he shakes his head, replaces the scroll, and goes back to reading reports from the Southern Raiders.

On a freezing winter morning, as Zuko and his squad sit down to breakfast and tease Kai for still being half asleep, a herald reads a proclamation from the Caldera.

"The Avatar has returned, and is wanted alive for treason against the Fire Nation."

The mess hall is silent. Zuko nearly chokes on his tea. Unbidden, his eyes fly to Commander Toshiaki, who has gone white to the lips, but otherwise is composed.

The Avatar has returned.

This, Zuko thinks, as he listens to the silence break to the shattering sounds of all of his plans, changes everything.

Previous | Next

#atla #atla fanfic #awkpenproductions presents #dragon of the yuyan #part 7 debrief

[robbyrobinson]

OWL HOUSE X CTHULHU MYTHOS CROSSOVER: GODS AWAKEN (PT. 23)

In Belos’ laboratory, three guards were surrounding the portal machine whilst others were casually speaking with each other.

“So that human woman will be the first human executed under Lord Belos?” a guard asked. They were both wearing attire appropriate to any serving the Emperor’s Coven. His partner was slightly taller and had a gruffer voice.

“Bah, I’d think the Emperor would be less merciful in regards to that rat creature.”

Beyond them, more of Emperor Belos’ enchanted suits of armor were continually being created and stowed away in boxes. The process was the same as it ever was: rock harvested from the petrified statues were collected and pitched into vaults containing scorching liquid metal. They were then placed on the conveyor belts upon being cooled and fashioned. Rinse and repeat a thousand times, and this became a daily occurrence for the guards. It did not bother them where the rocks they were using to mold the armor came from. In fact, some were blissfully going about their business without fully knowing they were harvesting rocks from petrified statues.

The doors opened up revealing the Owl Spy to be behind it. “Afternoon.”

The other guards turned around to meet the masked man. When the door was fully opened, they dropped their weapons, freezing in place. There was a good reason for it: behind the door was that owl demon they had encountered back when Lilith used to lead them. That same owl demon that completely swept the floor of them.

“I-It can’t be...” one panicked; his ankles were locking up because of fright, “It’s the Devil!”

The guards braced themselves for the imminent pound down they were anticipating. After a couple seconds, there was no hint of provocation coming from the feathered fiend. They slowly uncovered their faces in confusion.

“Why is that...thing here?” one guard finally mustering up to speak.

“The Emperor had informed me that this owl demon would be of great use to our cause,” the Owl Spy replied.

“What, but how?”

“The Owl Lady had gone through a few...sessions, and I was finally able to extract an answer from her: this owl demon is a high-tech security system; with this fine system at our arsenal, he can be a worthy weapon against our enemies.”

The guards glared at each other then back to the owl house. While the monster had filled their dreams with night terrors for months ever since Lilith led them to try to capture the Owl Lady, they did acknowledge, if ever so slightly, that he was of considerable value. With a little fine-tuning, the owl demon could work for them.

“Besides; even if the house is still loyal to the Owl Lady?” the Owl Spy noted, “the Emperor had permitted us to serve the demon in a great banquet in a celebration of the human woman’s death.”

The gruffer voiced guard nodded. “I have heard that their type of meat is of exquisite taste.”

The guards mumbled for a few seconds and shrugged. Reclaiming their electric-tipped weapons, they slowly approached the house some taking the northern and southern parts of it. They looked in through the windows to see if anyone was inside, but they were obscured by purple curtains.

“What of the prisoners,” one of the guards asked the Owl Spy.

“They already have front row seats to the execution,” the Owl Spy replied in a deadpan fashion.

“You don’t mind if I send a few men to corroborate the story?”

“Sure, by all means; why not take it directly to Belos then? I am sure that he would love to hear that one of his minions would dare question his word especially if it was ordained by the Titan.”

The guard backed off raising his hands in the air. “Well played.”

As the owl house was being brought in, a shorter-framed guard tapped his weapon on the side of the house as if to see if the house truly was, hopefully in his case, dead. Like he expected, the house did not suddenly bolt to life. While his curiosity should have been satiated at that moment, he decided to lean in closer. He walked to the door and saw the owl demon’s wretched face. Its eyes were closed tightly apparently not hearing all the running wires in the laboratory let alone the probing that was being done to its outer casing.

He walked onto the porch of the house, his weapon drawn higher than before, until he was inches away from the owl’s face. He turned to look at his men seeing that they had slowly become frightened. Turning back to the owl house, he tapped the flat end of his staff on the bird’s beak. It rung out singing a hollow tune. He waited a few minutes to see if this was the final nail that could stir the demon from its deep slumber. He was about to turn away until he heard a small murmur. His neck nearly snapped with how sudden its turn was: nearly a 360 degree. His feet became glued to the ground and he was stiff as a wooden board. The owl’s beak started to move.

“Sleeping....sleeping....SLEEP HOOTING!!!”

In a flash, Hooty’s tube body surged with a renewed energy and shot out like a speeding bullet.

“HEY GUYS!” Hooty shrieked. He looked around the room seeing all the bizarre gadgets and buttons.

“Ooo, what do all these buttons do?”

In his excitement, Hooty shoved the guard out of his way with his long body and smashed his way through the machines ripping and tearing his way through them regardless of the sparks flying from them. Slipping his way through the board containing all the buttons, Hooty resurfaced like a breached whale with a huge chunk of wires and scrap metal between his beak. Even when the wires were popping with electricity, it didn’t seem to catch any concern from the owl demon.

The guard ran down from the door post flailing his arms. Hooty’s neck struck again effortlessly infiltrating one of the guard’s masks and, somehow, Hooty crawled into four guard’s masks before erupting out the final one. He had strung himself through them as skillfully as a string going through the eye of a needle. He swung them around somehow maneuvering their bodies and making them perform inhuman actions. They were all the marionettes being controlled by their puppet master.

“It’s great to have so many friends!” Hooty shouted, hooting incessantly.

The doors to the house shot open. Before the guards could have time to react, Luz, Amity, and King sprung out. King latched his tiny body around one of Belos’ minion’s face. The man began to panic and ran around in an endless circle. He reached out to forcibly pry the small demon off his face to no avail.

“Oh, dear Titan! Get it off me! Get it off me!!”

Luz withdrew paper and slammed them on the ground. Ice propelled from the ground encasing several guards in between the large columns of ice. So many ice columns in fact, they had to scrunch together. Any sudden movement, and they could be jabbed by the sharp blades of ice. Some pieces were dangerously close to stab them in the eye.

One guard was able to slip a hand and curved their fingers over their mouths. They whistled signaling more guards to enter the laboratory to take down the threat. Luz continued to dish out paper after paper containing the glyph for the ice spell and it froze several of them in place.

Lilith and Eda emerged from the house carrying frying pans to make up for their minimal power. The sounds of the pans colliding with the skulls of Belos’ minions rang out. With their ages, they were gradually beginning to show exhaustion, but they continued trying to press on.

“Whew, my back’s starting to chafe,” Eda groaned, “how are you holding on?”

“My frying pan is already starting to wear out.” She held it up taking note of the massive dents in it. It was barely holding on by its handle. Any other swing of it, and it would likely be ground up like a piece of raw meat. “But if it’s for Luz’s sake, then I can muster up a little more strength.”

The two sisters ran back into the house to find other items to throw. The guards start to flood into the house trying to capture the two women.

“Abomination, rise!”

Amity raised her hands and from the ground, her abomination erupted. She directed her mindless servant towards the horde of minions. They turned to see the lumbering Goliath approaching them and raised their weapons to intercept the encroaching beast. A colossal fist rained down on them, falling dozens of them. They launched javelins and other weapons at the beast, but they merely stuck through him and were vacated out of the other side. Hooty was continuing to happily clobber guards and had trapped one around his coils and pinned on the ground. A board game was in the middle. Hooty had already taken his first move.

“Your turn, hoot! Hoot!!”

The guard was hyperventilating and shaking like a leaf. It was apparent that he was sobbing. “Mommy, please! Help...”

Motionless guards were around the man. Eda saw this and winced. “Almost makes me feel bad for them.”

“Come to think of it, I thought your house system had its soul tossed into space-time,” Lilith remembered, “how did he come back?”

Hypnos sat on the couch drinking tea and casually watching Hooty play his game. “Oh, I saw his soul flying around the time that Amity and Luz first arrived to Earth; just thought to save it until the time was right.”

“Hoot! Hoot! I was in some world with a lot of mushrooms, and they made me their king!” Hooty proudly proclaimed.

Hypnos snickered in amusement. “I am in awe at how you were able to get your hands on a Great Old One.”

Eda raised an eyebrow. “Great Old One?”

“You seriously thought that all Hooty was good for was being a security system? This boy here is probably the most powerful being on the Boiling Isles; usually Great Old Ones would be locked away, and for good reason: Hooty can easily destroy the Boiling Isles if he wanted to.”

Lilith and Eda shared an equal look of bewilderment mixed with horror. “WHA!?”

Hypnos nodded his head and sipped his tea. “I agree; that is quite a cumbersome dilemma; wouldn’t want to be the poor sap who has to deal with that.”

The fact that Hooty was immensely powerful and held the fate of the Isles in his invisible hands was hard to swallow. Mistreating the owl demon was something that was done without much thought. But now, Hooty could possibly bring an apocalypse on the land if he so pleased. Luckily for them, Hooty was neither good nor evil, just a creature of pure chaos.

“When this is over, remind me not to mess with Hooty, Lilith,” Eda finally said.

Lilith nodded.

Amity and Luz saw the fight beginning to die down, and they bolted for the stairs leading to the top of the portal machine. Amity looked at Luz seeing her desperately carrying the papers in her hands. They fluttered in the rushing wind. Sweat beads were manifesting on Luz’s forehead with her breathing becoming strained with every time she exhaled, her breath came out in a sharp hiss.

“You did have our Plan B if something goes wrong, right?” Luz asked Amity.

Amity nodded. She rustled through her pockets and withdrew a small box. They got to the top of the stairs and paused to catch their breath. “Alright, you start putting the glyphs down, and I’ll keep watch.”

Luz nodded. As she turned, the breath was nearly kicked out of her lungs.

“Luz!” Amity held out her hand on instinct. Luz grabbed onto the rim of the stairs and was dangling over one of the vaults containing the boiling metal. The liquid metal sizzled and popped. Luz could hear the muffled screams of terror coming from the souls of the suffering witches.

Kikimora stood by the place where Luz fell and watched her dangling from the edge. Amity got on her knees to make attempts of grabbing Luz’s hand, but the little pint-sized demon was blocking her way.

“Go out of the way you foul creature, are you mad?”

Kikimora spoke with disinterest. “I will not allow you or your friend to intrude on Emperor Belos’ plans.”

Amity strained harder to grab a hold of Luz, but Kikimora swatted her hand away. Luz’s fingers were desperately trying to hold on for dear life, but tiredness was beginning to take hold. Invisible needles were pressing into her digits. The need to clinch her fingers became ever tempting, but she struggled against fate. Kikimora took her foot and stepped on Luz’s left hand. Luz grinded her teeth to keep herself from screaming.

Amity scowled her eyes flaring up. “Emperor Belos lied to you! Can’t you see that he is wanting to destroy the Boiling Isles?”

Kikimora looked at her with her one visible eye. “What are you saying?”

“It’s true!” Luz shouted, “Emperor Belos lied about everything; the Titan; the Day of Unity; he’ll destroy us all if we do not do anything about it!”

Kikimora slowly lifted her foot much to the human girl’s relief. Kikimora cupped her chin between her two fingers pondering. It seemed to be hours, but the two girls had their rest assured that the demon lady would reconsider.

“Even if that is the truth behind my master’s plans, he is my master nonetheless.”

Push.

Luz looked down and saw Kikimora fall past her. She instinctively darted her eyes away once Kikimora was obscured by a pillar of smoke coming from the sizzling concoction. Deciding the worse was over, Luz saw Kikimora’s white-golden robes on the surface of the metal before it sank underneath. At that moment, Luz completely lost her grip and fell towards the burning liquid.

“Luz!”

Luz closed her eyes to accept her fate, but she felt herself stop. Looking up, the Owl Spy had her and pulled her up. “You have no idea how long I wanted to do that.”

Luz was helped back on her feet, her breathing becoming heavier. Amity ran and embraced her. Luz’s cheeks became red. “You’re crushing me, Amity.”

“Oh...oh right, sorry,” Amity chuckled embarrassingly.

The Owl Spy saw more of Belos’ minions running up the stairs. “I believe now is time for that Plan B.”

Amity took the box running to the top of the stairs. The stairs were shaking from the combined weight. She angled the box just right and with a controlled breath, she tossed it. It landed on one of the furthest stairs and opened. The guards stopped in their tracks.

“What in Titan’s name?” one guard said.

“I’m gonna see what it is,” guard number two said.

“Might be one of those magic bombs.”

Despite the urgency in the first guard’s voice, the guard went to pick it up. However, the box was glued on the stair. He grunted every pull becoming more stressful on his back. Eventually, something oozed from underneath it. “Oh my...”

The box ripped open revealing some large, amoeba-like monster. It jiggled and shifted. Eyes were all over its gelatinous mass alongside mouths and pseudopodia. It wheezed and folded in of itself measuring around fifteen feet across. But most unappealing of the massive beast, it could form organs of varying size and shape without appearing to have the mental contingency to do so. Nevertheless, it slithered down the stairs as a writhing wall of eyes, mouths, and protrusions.

The guards fired shots into the beast, but they merely were absorbed by the pulsating walls. Protrusions reached out and wrapped around several of the guards’ legs to draw them into their gaping mouths. There were struggles coming from the guards, but the plunging pressure coming from the beast was too great.

The Owl Spy turned to his daughter. “Alright; so I will have to return to Emperor Belos to report on what’s going on; but first, I will give you the directions to find Edric.”

Amity agreed non-verbally. She and her father ran past the rampaging Shoggoth. Amity saw her Abomination while it was still in the process of clobbering the minions. It looked at the Shoggoth with a wide expression, its movement becoming stiff. If Abominations actually had hearts, Amity’s would assuredly be skipping a beat. Amity waved her hand, but that was not enough to stir his attention.

“So now you get to know how I feel nearly every day,” Amity thought to herself.

#owl house #the owl house #owl house fanfiction #cthulhu mythos #hooty #toh hooty

[ashfantasyworld]

Ashton

It was the start of me falling for everyone, it was like any other day. I had turned 20 years of age, and had become what we consider in the middle of teens. My tail never does as I want it to, when I try to hide things or feelings. It always blows my cover, and in training I have started to flirt with this good looking human. I seriously melt when I see him, but how the hell do I tell another guy I like him. What if he dont like me? I know I'm ranting now but it's important I promise. I failed him and I failed my Mom, I failed everyone. As I'm writing this letter I am sitting in a cell waiting for the cultists to end me for being unholy. They call me, well I hope someone reads this as i think i will die today. And yes I'm crying. I can't help it. I'm still a kid, well let me tell you my story then. So if you read it you wont be as stupid as i was.

The start of the story is on my 18th birthday, my mom who cares for me alone had made me a cake. And I was eating it with her, as she told me of my dad, and how the humans had come. And I was a mix of Human and Tabaxi and so on, she misses my dad a lot after he died. So she talks about him on a regular basis, but it's okay if she is happy doing so I don't mind listening to it. And well I had plans today to meet up with a guy that looks amazing, and well we have exchanged looks sometimes and he is going to meet me tonight. But I need to train first. I aint so big on using close combat weapons. I rather like to use bows and crossbows but if i can i like to talk my way out of things. So I use most of my day for training, as a tabaxi I have to be combat ready when I'm around 18 to 20 so yeah. When I'm done with my work out I walk to take a shower and damn that's a long process. Have you tried to get fur dry?It's a nightmare. So when I'm done with my 3 hour long chore of showering for 30 min and using 2h 30 min to not smell like a wet dog. Ewww dogs….. It's time to meet up with Thor, it's night now and I have become smaller than what I was. It happens every night. I think it's due to my father and since he was not a cat, I am probably cursed. Thor doesn't mind, he finds it kinda cute, we are going to meet up by the hill so we can watch the stars together. I walk up there with ease as well. I'm a cat and move easily, not like dogs who walk all over the place sniffing pee. So I sit and wait for him, he is so slow I mean I can wait. I remember seeing him walking in, he looked so good. He has a nice beard and looks like something from a story book from the people up north, he sits down beside me. I can feel my heart beating out of my chest, and he asks me “what I think is up there”. I think a lot and look up, before I'm reminded of all the stories from my mom about dad. “I think my dad is up there watching over me, keeping me safe”. I can feel his hand touching mine, I tell him “that's okay, i feel the same for him”. He pushes me to the ground so I'm on my back, and kisses me. He sits back up and looks at me, I smile and move and kiss him back. It feels wonderful. I feel warm all over and I'm so happy. We smile and part ways after a while, I am so happy I am falling so hard for him. Everything was so good before I failed him.

Some days pass and well we meet up, hidden from everyone else. He decides that we should keep it hidden from everyone, and that's fine for me. He has become more bossy with me, and makes my decisions for me. But that's okay. I am kinda girly anyways, and I like to have someone in control of me. And well im 4*10 120 lbs so I'm small, and I dress kinda cute. So I am not someone who is in charge, It makes me smile just to think of Thor, my big viking. 

But one day I decided I don't know why but that i wanted to be in a dress for him you know female dress. They look so nice, and damn cute and I have the body to be in one. So stupid as i was i got one to be cute to him, my Mom told me i was always special and thats what she loved about me. And helped me get the dress on, we had to cut a hole for the tail tho. As that damn tail always got in the way, but we did and it looked kinda good. So I went to where I knew Thor usually did hang out. I went there and it did not go so well, as his friends were there and when they saw me. They called me alot, “Abomination, Little girl, Loser, ugly”. You know all the bad words, and Thor even made fun of me, and when I tried to run they caught me. And started to beat me up, I don't remember too much as it got black quickly. What I do remember though is Thor hitting me in my face with his friends. I did wake up later. My dress was bloody and ripped apart, I started to cry and ran to the spot where me and Thor first met. And sitting down made me even more sad, as I remembered him. I cried for a long time, before Thor walked up to me and sat down beside me. He told me it was my fault, and I said sorry so many times. He agreed to be with me if I did not behave like that ever again and made it up to him. It made me so happy I kissed his cheek and asked what he wanted, he said I had to get something for him from the smithy. When I asked what he smiled and said a special sword from the smithy, I agreed I just had to get that and he would be mine. I did not have any money though as i know he just wanted a gift, like i am supposed to give him. So i had to steal it, i said i would be back here in 3 hours to him with the sword. It was still night so I could get it, he smiled as I ran off, I know I can do it for him. I'm so lucky to get another chance after embracing him like that. When I'm at the smithy I manage to sneak my way over the fence, but then I see it. The terror itself, the thing that could be compared with the devil himself. Ewwww a small dog, it even looks like a rat. I was close to throwing up in my mouth, and now I have to touch it. I am sure I was close to dying right there and then. But for Thor I would, so I grabbed the dog. Made my skin crawl, as I held over its tiny mouth it started to lick me. I know how disgusting, that tongue has probs been licking buts and poop and pee and ewwwwwwww. But I did it, I moved the dog carefully to another place as it kept licking me all the way. Gives me even the shivers now as I write this while crying, but I move it far enough away. So I could sneak back in, and well when people are stupid enough to let a window be open, I mean it's like an open invitation. I stop and look at the Female sleeping, she is so cute she is older than me tho, must be like 25 to 30 in human years. But I have a mission, so I go and look at the swords. I'm not sure which he wants so I take the most fancy look, and move to the window. But stop looking at the girl. I feel bad for her. I will make it up to her, but I have to leave. So I leave and run back to Thor he smiles, as I give it to him, I feel so happy for giving it to him now he wants me back. He looks at me and hits me in the face with the back end of it, and pushes me to the ground and keeps beating me. Screaming at me how stupid i am for taking the wrong sword, I try to say sorry and that i love him in between the hits. But he dont stop, he keeps on beating me for a while. I deserve it though. I failed him, how could i be so stupid. 

After a while he stopped and looked at me with piercing eyes, “you failed me” the words kept ringing in my ears. As he walked off with the sword I had stolen from him, I walked home. My mom saw me beaten and bloody. She looks at me and shakes her head, “i am sorry” she smiles and follows me into the bathroom and finds some bandages and ointments to help with my wounds. She spends most of the evening cleaning me up, and treating me, I don't say much at all that night. My head is spinning around, everything that has happened. I slept for almost 2 days. Before someone comes knocking on the door at my house, my mom opens and asks me to come into the living room. I just put the comforter over my head, I do not want to do anything right now. After a good 10 minutes the lady comes into the room, the smith stares at me as I swallow hard. She closes the door behind me and we have a conversation, she told me that stealing is not okay. And doing so could get me killed. She offers me a job to work off what I owe, she says she had one give her a chance once and this was her doing the same. But if I was late or did not show, she would go to the guards. I started working with her smithy. Her name is Cynthia, she was not too pleased with me at the start, but after 6 months of me working there every day. She starts to take a liking to me, and teaches me about hard work. I have not heard from Thor in half a year, and I'm finally starting to get over him. Everyday I meet up, I do most of the labour around the smith like cleaning up and keeping it tidy. As I see her sell things to people and make deals, I smirk and one day I say to her. “Bet i could make more money off it” she smirks and tells me the bet is on i have 1 month to beat her. Every day I do everything I can to sell, I start playing music outside and to lure people in I let them haggle but manage to turn them around. After the month is over I have made 1276 gold 436 more than she made, I smirk and she smiles and tells me I have worked off all my debt. But I don't want to stop working. I ask her if I can continue, and she accepts with a smile. Another year passes. I'm 19 soon, 20 now and I am happy. My life's going great, I have worked with Cynthia and have been helping me alot with my bow skills and I continue to play music. She even managed to get me into playing in an inn every night, and I love it and the people love it. One day a guard walks into the smith, I freeze up as I see him. It's Thor. He is looking at swords. I gulp as he turns around and sees me too, “well well well”. He puts a sword on the table, “so you work here now” I look at him and swallow hard and nod. “That will be 50 gold coins”, he smiles and reminds me of what i did and threatens me. Before he takes it and leaves, which means I have to pay for it. I put 50 gold coins into the chest. Cynthia has seen it all, and we have a talk. I tell her the whole story, she hugs me. And tells me that we will just forget about it, and that it's not worth picking a fight with the guards over it. Another 6 months pass, as I work and people start to know me, and come alot into the smith it has become a place to hang out for some people. Where they can chat and buy stuff. I have turned 20 now, it's a big day and as I get to work. The guard jumps me and chains me down, Thor is standing there and reading up my accusations of being a thief, breaking the rules of the church and deserves to hang. Cynthia looks at me, and tries to talk her way out of it for me, but Thor is not budging. And they take me to the church, after a while the priest comes. They decide to take me to the caves where they can properly please the gods, they move me at night. And get me into this cell, they are not holy they are a cult. Planning to sacrifice me to their gods, they told me that my mom has been tossed out on the streets and Cynthia is facing charges. So that brings me to the end of my letter, of how I failed everyone. Just never do as I did, because of me people are hurt. I am sorry for getting the wrong sword, I am sorry mom for being a useless son and I'm sorry Cynthia you should never have given me a chance. I am ready now, to pay for my sins. This will be updated as the campaing goes on <3

#dnd #dnd oc #original story #storytelling #dnd campaign #fantasy #tabaxi #furry story #lgbtq

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #360

“we are the ones that wanna play  /  always wanna go, but you never wanna stay”

"Crawling" or "In The End?" I want to say "Crawling," but I really can't be sure. Both are bomb. Is your window open? No. Monsters Inc. or Shrek? Shrek, my man. What did you last hear that made your jaw drop? Jason's mom died. What is the longest shower or bath you have ever taken? I remember as kids, Nicole and I would sometimes play 'til Mom made us finish because the water was cold by then. As an adult, idk about my longest shower. Do you have a preference of chocolate? Yeah, milk chocolate. Is there anyone you’d like to hug right now? Yeah. Could you ever picture someone writing a biography about you? Definitely not. Do you have a clock in your room? No. Do you shut off the computer when you’re done using it? No, I just close it. Do you usually catch a cold during the winter? No. I just about never get sick. Are you a good multi-tasker? NOOOOOOOOOOO. Do you know any deaf people? If so, is it easy or difficult to have conversations with them? No. Is there a door knocker on your front door? No. Were you ever into Pokémon? Bitch I still am. Do you drink a lot of water? Sigh, no. I'm definitely better than I used to be, though; once upon a time, I literally never drank it unless I was extremely hot and dehydrated. Nowadays, it's usually after I finish my soda for the day that I then only drink water, normally around one full tall cup of it. Do you like fireworks? They're beautiful, but I'm personally against them out of respect for veterans suffering from PTSD as well as animals, because I'm not exactly interested in traumatizing them, either. Is respect given or earned with you? It's given, the way I think it should be. Are you “in the closet” about anything? No. Are you missing any teeth? No. Do you like scrapbooking? I've never gotten into it and am not really interested in doing so. What was or will be your first tattoo? It's a semicolon butterfly on my right wrist. Sometimes I've thought about getting it covered with a cooler design but the same concept; it was literally from Google, and I'm very much not into "sharing" tattoo designs with probably thousands of other people. But, I still think it really is cute, and it's just very special to me as my first, so idk. Do you have any tattoos dedicated to someone special? I have one written in Sara's handwriting inside a heart, and my "ohana" tattoo that I am 100% getting covered was dedicated to my former best friend Colleen. I've talked before about why "ohana" has never really resonated with me, and I just don't like it anymore at all. Thank God it's small. Do you like ghost stories? Oh HELL yeah, lay 'em on me. What was your favorite movie as a kid? The Lion King. Some things never change, ha. Do you own a lot of cookbooks? Mom has looooots, but never uses any. I think her mom gave them to her, so she just keeps 'em. What’s your father’s handwriting like? It looks like every other man's handwriting I've ever seen lol. All the letters are capitalized. Did you wash your hair last time you showered? I wash my hair every time I shower. I have to with it naturally being so oily. What does your shampoo smell like? Coconut. Do you listen to Guns N' Roses? Not a lot, but yeah. They've got some bangers. I actually want "Sweet Child O' Mine" to be the father/daughter dance at my wedding. Have you ever been a bridesmaid? Yeah, at my sister's wedding. What was the last video game that you beat? I replayed Silent Hill 2 a long time ago. Have you ever hyperventilated? Yep. Do you talk in your sleep? I scream in my sleep. Nightmares/terrors are a blast. Whose house did you last sleep over? Sara's. Have you ever been cut by scissors? No. Do you like peaches? It's odd, I like canned sliced peaches, but the actual, full fruit, I don't. I love peach flavored juice, though. Do you enjoy being surrounded by neighbors, or would you be more comfortable someplace secluded? Take me back to the middle of nowhere, please. I'm really not digging being in an actual neighborhood. Is there any sibling rivalry between you and your siblings, if you have any? Not at all. Do you usually root for the good guys or the bad guys? Ha, the baddies... Are you allowed to have pets at your house? We're allowed to have what we currently own and then maybe one dog if Mom finally finds one. Have you ever lived in a trailer park? No. Is there anyone that you know through the internet that you would feel comfortable meeting in person? There's quite a few, actually! Have you ever had a dream involving characters from a game/movie/television show? Yeah. What’s the last thing you wrote down? My signature, I think? Do you remember any phone numbers from years ago that now belong to someone you don’t know? No. Have you ever found something strange in your mailbox? No. Who was the last relative that came to visit you? My half-sister and her husband. Does your bedding all match? Not currently. Are you more comfortable with having short hair or long hair? SHORT. Are you interested in fantasy movies/shows? That's my preference. Have you ever gone whale-watching? No, but that'd be dope. What is something that you have a large amount of? Meerkat plushies. Who is it that you’re in love with? Nobody. Have you ever gotten love and infatuation confused? No. Do you have a steady income? No. Do you take your medications in the morning or at night? Both. Have you ever bought a YouTuber’s merch? No, I wish. :( Do you think oatmeal tastes better when made with water or milk? MILK. I don't eat it with water. When was the last time you ran into someone that you didn’t want to see? Idk. Have you ever tried vlogging, and if yes, did you stick with it? Noooo, I'm completely disinterested in doing that myself. If you go to church, what is your favorite thing about it? I don't go. Even as a kid when Mom made me, I hated it. ^and what is your least favorite thing about it? N/A What do you do for exercise? I don't. .-. I want a pool SO badly to swim and strengthen my legs without having to worry about sweating or collapsing, though. Mom says we don't have space, but we definitely do. Not a lot, but enough. Do you have a birthmark? If yes, what color is it? Yeah, it's just a bit darker than the rest of my skin. Do you need to lose weight? Yes. My sister, Mom, and I very recently started a Weight Watchers subscription and we're all working our asses off to stick to it. Ash has already lost like, 12 pounds (she started before Mom and me), so I'm kinda hopeful. Have you ever had a cat? Growing up, after we took in a stray female, we ended up with a fucking empire of cats, literally around three dozen, I'd say. They were all outdoors, too, and not fixed because we couldn't afford it, so tomcats would come around and, y'know, make matters worse. Eventually, animal control took them all and I was DEVASTATED, but looking back, I understand it was necessary. Anyway, I have one cat now. Indoors and fixed and the prince of my world, haha. Have you ever had a dog? We've had a few. I was born with my dad having a collie named Trigger, but I don't remember her at all; she died of old age I believe when I was very young. Then we briefly had a pup named Angel, but she died due to that disease some puppies just have. We didn't get another dog until Teddy, who was my Christmas present, and he was put to sleep only last year, rest my baby's soul. We also had Dale, Cali, Delilah, and Bentley. Have you ever any other kind of animal? A LOT. I'm probably going to forget some, but we've had hamsters, rats, snakes, fish, a turtle, two lizards, gerbils, guinea pigs... just a lot. Animals have always been very important in my life. Have you ever had a pet rock? HA, yeah. I didn't take it seriously at all, but I had one. When was the last time you painted something? Not since my Painting course in my final college attempt. Do you have any disabilities? Not in the traditional sense, no. My social anxiety though is at such a severity that it majorly infringes upon my ability to do a LOT of things, though. What are five of your favorite stores at the mall? I couldn't name five. Just Hot Topic and Spencer's, really. What season do you want to get married in? AUTUMN. The actual dream situation would be to get married in the snow in a black dress, like can you IMAGINE the pictures, but realistically, it'd be in the fall to avoid the biting cold. Has anyone ever spread lies about you? Yeah. Anything special planned for today? Nope. Blue or green? Blue. How much older/younger than you was the person you lost your virginity to? He's two years older than me. Do you still care for that person? Very much. Can you completely annihilate the first Mario game in less than an hour? I haven't even played the first game. I've never really been into the games to begin with. Did you make it all the way through the Oregon Trail game? Yes! I was OOOOOBSESSEEEEEED as a kid. I would usually play it after school when my mom was an assistant teacher and was finishing up her work for the day. Have you ever contemplated climbing a water tower? Uh, no. Those kind of people got some wanderlust levels that I ain't got, haha. If you have a Facebook, when was the last time you changed your profile picture? It's been a few months. Would you ever marry someone who was lower class? Um, yes? You can deny it all you want, but answering "no" is pretty much the same as saying you'd marry for money. Is there a guy you wish you hadn’t let slip away? ugh Which do you prefer: English or math? English, by light years. Who is a singer that has given you chills? David Draiman's voice in the Disturbed cover of "Sound of Silence" is fucking haunting. Greatest cover of all time. Do you watch America’s Got Talent? I did when Sharon was a judge. Do you think you could win America’s Got Talent? Hell no. What act would you perform in a talent show? uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Have you ever practiced yoga? Yes. I used to be BANGIN at it. What is your favorite thing to buy at the Farmer’s Market? Fruit! Do you get carsickness? No. What color is the rim of your full-length mirror? Black. What is your state’s bird (if you live in the US)? Cardinal. Which style of wedding dress is your favorite? I'm a sucker for ballgown dresses. Do you enjoy editing videos? I used to love it, for many many years. Now, I just don't have the dedication or motivation to. Do you enjoy editing photos? Yes. If you gave birth, do you think you would want it filmed? Um, absolutely not. I would have NO desire to look back on me shrieking my lungs out and essentially dying. I handle abdominal pain very poorly, so I've got a goooood feeling that if I actually wanted to have kids, I'd be that woman screeching like a banshee.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''aerials'' by system of a down

[cecilspeaks]

164 - The Faceless Old Woman (Live)

[applause]

Jeffrey Cranor: I’m really excited, we wrote this script recently coming up in this last performance for tonight. And I got real excited for writing it, cause we haven’t written like a, to do a live show full length in a new voice. And it was a lot of fun to do.

Joseph Fink: Yeah so tonight we are presenting the first Welcome to Night Vale show that is entirely from the point of view of someone who is not Cecil, this is the time when the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home gets to step out from her secret.. place in your home. [laughter] And tell you a little bit about herself.

Jeffrey: One of my favorite things about writing the Faceless Old Woman stuff is cause the way Joseph and I work is that we’ll write episodes or write parts of episodes and pass it to the other and that person will, sometimes have questions but oftentimes just maybe like add something to it. So a lot of times it’s either, when I get stuff back from Joseph and I dunno if he feels the same way getting stuff back form me, with the Faceless Old Woman script it was always either something really hilarious for something really upsetting. [laughter] And I really love that a lot.

Joseph: This is maybe the most upsetting thing we’ve ever written, I hope you guys enjoy it. [laughter]

Jeffrey: Have fun, good night! [applause]

Joseph: I guess we should start that show we talked about.

Jeffrey: Let’s do it. You guys, let’s welcome to the stage your friend and ours, Mara Wilson!

[applause] [long silence]

Mara Wilson: I am the Faceless Old Woman who secretly lives in your home. Hello. You don’t know me, but I know you. I know you very well. I’ve been going through your medicine cabinet. You take too much Advil. Do you realize how hard that is on your digestion? I know a couple gelcaps and a glass of water before bed can alleviate a morning hangover, but it also puts you in a bad mood, because you don’t get good sleep with all that extra stress you put on your guts. You know what’s a better hangover cure? Not drinking like it’s the last day of community college. I replaced your vodka with clear Windex, and your Advil with Ipecac. This won’t help your hangovers, but it certainly will be more entertaining for me. I don’t sleep, so I need better late night entertainment than Netflix. I’ve already watched every episode of “Money Heist” and “Criminal Man” and “Planet documentary”, I have to spice it up a little bit.

Which reminds me, sorry about the tarantula incident last week. And here I’m speaking specifically to you, Tony. Yes you, in the shirt. The one hoping I’m not talking about you. I’m not sorry you woke up with a tarantula covering your face, nor that it bit you, causing your eyelids to swell up like Kinder eggs filled with purulent discharge instead of toys. I am sorry that I forgot to turn the flash off of my camera, which alarmed both you and the spider, and I never got a good photo. I’ve been building up my portfolio for an art exhibit I call “Gross Things on a Sleeping Tony”. It’s going up June 1, exclusively in your living room.  I’ve already gotten “Open-mouthed Centipede Bouquet” framed. You’re gonna find this show absolutely terrific.  Wait no, not terrific, what’s the word? Terrifying.

Tony, you’re one of my favorites in Night Vale. I know you hate your direct marketing job selling high interest credit cards to twenty-somethings, but the benefits are great. You have health care, a 401k, and you get to take advantage of people less fortunate than you. Everything is its own reward. But I’ve read your poetry, you love poetry. To be fair, there isn’t a big job market for poets, but you need to explore what makes you happy. I tattooed one of my favorite lines of poetry on you last month. It’s by Mary Oliver. “Instructions for living a life. Close your eyes. Be scared. Good luck.” And then I drew a little butterfly next to the words. I’m not the best artists, though, so it kind of looks like a radish or a sarcoma. Doesn’t matter, you still haven’t noticed. It’s just right below your right shoulder blade, don’t try to find it now, it’s still healing and given that I used the metal rod from that fondue set in your closet as the needle, it’s possible it’s infected. Better to leave it alone.

Tony, look at me. Imagine where my eyes would be. You have a lot to work through. I’m here to help you, I really am. I’ll prove it by giving you some advice. If a venomous arthropod is on your face, don’t scream.

Anyway, it’s not you Tony who’s bothering me, it’s the new people. They are elderly, like me, and they just moved into a house in the center of Night Vale. Or maybe this is decades from now, time is a little hazy for me. I’ve never been in this house nor noticed it before they moved in. it’s a one bedroom and there are three of them. I thought polyamory, but they have three separate beds and they never speak to each other, rarely look at each other, and never leave the home. The first night I secretly lived in their home, I realized they never slept either. They brushed their teeth, put on pajamas and get into bed. But they all lie there, eyes open, through silent hours of darkness.

I tried whispering to them but got no response. Usually when I reveal myself in the dark, I get the thrill of witnessing horror dawn across a person’s distorted mouth and bulging eyes as they see my faceless face pressed up against their own. One of the best parts of visiting new residents. But not these three. For once, I’m the frightened one.

Speaking of frightening, did you get your taxes (-) [0:08:20] on time Alex? You, you’re Alex. You with the shoes. I had to file for an extension. I don’t owe any money because I have no income, but I’m over 200 years old, never got a social security number, have no permanent address and I wasn’t born in this country, it’s a lot of paperwork. And Alex, you know your Wi-Fi is terrible and I was having a hard time downloading the forms I needed, so I just wrote my name on some yellowish-black Boston lettuce you’ve left in the crisper for the last three weeks. But the leaves kept falling apart, I think more like melting. After about 20 minutes, I got frustrated and just made myself a salad. Also, I used the last of your parmesan cheese, but don’t worry, I replaced it with dried skin I’ve been collecting from your bed sheets. Don’t be grossed out, Alex. Same texture and nutritional value, you won’t know the difference. I got the idea from a Food Network’s “Beat Bobby Flay”, where this one winner tied up Bobby and ran a (micro-) [0:09:17] across his forehead to make a chimichurri sauce.

I love that show, but I’m a bigger fan of HGTV’s “House Hunters”, the desert dystopian version. That’s where I met you, Addie. Yes you, with the face. You were shopping for a new home here in Night Vale. You told the realtor - who was inside of a living deer, its belly horrifically distended and quivering with every one of the agent’s words and gesticulation – that you wanted three bedrooms, a back yard, and something close to an outdoor community space. The first home, the yard was not in good shape, lots of (- remains) [0:09:55] and the lawn was glowing, perhaps from underground radiation testing. It was well under your budget, but you would have had to spend your savings on fixing it up. Also, in the bathroom mirror you saw, crawling across the ceiling, a faceless old woman devouring what looked like a rat. You didn’t need to worry about a rat infestation, Addie. It was a chipmunk. The second home was a condo right in the heart of the arts district. You loved the design: a simple large black cube, no doors, no windows, no interior. A true closed floor plan, so popular these days. But you weren’t sure there was enough room for entertaining, or anything else at all. The house you selected was perfect. Three bedrooms, a Jacuzzi en suite, and a large patio backyard. Plus it was right in the middle of town next to a community dog park. Although you would be disappointed later to learn that your dog had been arrested for domestic espionage after peeing inside the park’s forbidden walls. I think you made the right choice, Addie, but I can’t help wondering every time I watch “House Hunters”, who is this person running away from? You left Queens to move to Night Vale. Queens is where your family lives, where your best friend lives, and your girlfriend of two years. Are you afraid of stasis, Addie? Of being loved, of commitment? You might be afraid of that pinkish ooze coming out of your ear, might wanna see an ENT about that. Or if not an ENT, an entomologist.

Speaking of putting woodboring beetles inside orifices, I tried a similar thing with the elderly room mates who recently moved to town, or will move to town many years from now, again time is strange to me. But these room mates are also so strange. When I went to put a beetle into one of their ears, I noticed a lot of scar tissue there, making the hole too small. In my haste, the beetle scurried away and I got kind of desperate and just made a bunch of spooky moans and hisses like this: [moans, hisses] but not one of the three responded to me. They continued their meaningless pantomime of sleeping, and in the morning they got up and each went quietly about their days. One of them made coffee, but did not drink it. They then went to the window and waved at their neighbor, Susan Willman, who was on her porch stretching before her morning run. Susan looked at the figure in the window next to her and froze. She stared in terror, then darted back into her home and locked the door. Susan has always been unfriendly. I ran her bed sheets through her office shredder as a reminder to be more open and loving toward the world.

The other two room mates climbed into the shower at the same time. I’m not one to get off on others’ sexual activities, I just thought I might see something new, something human here. But no, they stood side by side, cleaning their cold gravity-defeated bodies, not once looking at each other let alone speaking. A squelch and a squish and grey water falling around yellow toenails. They toweled off, but when they hung the towels up, those towels were completely dry.

I’m used to being the one who does inexplicable and disturbing things. Last year during the community players’ production of “Romeo and Juliet”, I decided it would be more fun if they used actual poison. But it was a last minute idea, so the only poison I could find was Borax. Which just gave the two kids playing the leads several unhappy hours in the bathroom on the night after the show ended, so I don’t know. I could have made a stronger directorial choice. But so could the actual director, I get that Shakespeare plays are long, but he cut out all the best parts like the train robbery, and also Tybalt winning his bowling league. Although I did appreciate that they left in Juliet’s famous line: “Good night, good night, your blood and guts and marrow, which worms shall eat inside your grave so narrow.” It’s a classic story. Kids these days just don’t try to fake their own deaths anymore.

Oh. And Morgan. Yes Morgan, I’m talking to you, you with the fingernail sand the teeth. I need to explain something to you. You tip 20 per cent. You can afford it, stop using it as a measure of how much you approve of the restaurant service. A 20 per cent tip is not  bonus, it’s a fee. Restaurant owners don’t pay their staffs, instead they make the diners pay their employees through this idiotic notion of capitalist meritocracy. I don’t care how bad the service, tip them. You have money, Morgan. I would also tell you to stop asking to speak to a manager every time your Long Island Ice Tea is a bit like, but I got out your tongue last month, so they wouldn’t understand you anymore anyway. Do you know what a cut human tongue tastes like, Morgan? Yes you do. You just don’t know that you do. Remember Applebee’s last week? You ordered soup. It was a beef base with  little onions and little perfectly sautéed flecks of your own tongue that you had used to lash out at a manager the last time you ate there. You could blame them for poorly expediting your orders, but really the onus is on you for going to Applebee’s. Which serves neither of the items its name promises. It’s false advertising. It’s like an egg cream soda, or Taco Bell.

Speaking of eating, the elderly room mates made lunch together, but not for each other. They were all in the kitchen at the same time making separate meals in silence. They sat around the dining room table together and ate. They carved and stabbed and pushed foods quickly into their mouths, but their eyes were empty. One of them began to spit out their food. No one seemed to care or notice. They all began to vomit, but not with muscular heaves of shoulders and necks, the vomit spurted out like water from a hand pump, their torsos and heads perfectly still. After each bodily rejection of food, they would start shoveling it back to their mouths, repeating the same process. Eventually one of them stood up and threw their plate into the kitchen window, glass bursting everywhere. That person leaned into the hole and began punching the jagged shards out with their clenched fists as blood poured out of their forearms and wrists. They screamed mournfully into the suburban street. Neighbors and passers-by passed only briefly, as if they had barely heard the sad howls spreading across the valley. Susan’s lemon tree next door died instantly and all the lemons fell with wet plops to the ground. The fruit pealed open and inside of each was a fleshy crimson pulp, like meat that has been ground for too long. The other two room mates kept eating and vomiting, not even noticing the shattered glass being subsumed by the growing pool of blood on the floor.

You know, I wasn’t always like this, faceless or old. Secretly living anywhere. Once I was born upon warm water. The smell I remember is sharp citrus and the peppery sting of grass. The salt funk of ocean. I was once a child. I grieved once. I smelled blood. Once I was a thief. I lived among thieves, I saw empires rise and fall, centuries cast themselves upon infinity as fruitlessly as waves upon cliffs. Once I was a recluse. I lived amongst bandits and farmers, I spoke a different language then. I’ve spoken many languages.

Once I was under the sea. That was a quiet time. I lived amongst the coral and dead-eyed fish. Once I was a wanderer. I’ve seen the (head) [0:18:14] waters of the Mississippi and I’ve seen the cobbled streets of Paris and I’ve seen the empty arches of Franchia. But I’ve never seen anything like those three room mates. Of all the things I've been – child, thief, recluse, wandered, faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home, I’ll tell you this: I’ve never been more scared.

Fear is in the unknowing and the mystery. Fear is seeing everything about an old woman except her face. Fear is the uncertainty of her secretly living in your home. Fear is not the spider you see on the wall. It’s the spider you no longer see on the wall when you look back again.

In the unnerving din of shattered glass and mournful howls of that house, I found the loose thread that unraveled this mystery. The room mate who screamed had no tongue. And one of the others had an ear swollen shut from a previous surgery. And the other had a red mark, like a radish or sarcoma adorned with poetry drawn upon their shoulder blade. I realized I knew these three strange room mates. They are you, Tony, the special tattoo I gave you. And they are you, Addie, with your oral scar tissue from the beetle I jammed in there. And you, Morgan, with your tongue removed and digested. The three of you do not exactly live together in that home, not at the same time. You are living three different lifetimes in that same space. You do not speak or respond, because you are dead. Each of you alone in that house together, or you will be, time is confusing for me. Decades from now after you die, your souls will be trapped in the house, because something in this world is unresolved for you. You know this, paranormal neuroscience is required for all high school freshmen. But what they don’t teach you is how to resolve it. I know how and when each one of you die. I wrote it down on the back pages of your journals. Iv’e done this for everybody, but nobody ever reads it, because while people always think they’ll write every day, after a few pages they fall off the wagon and never see the lsat pages of their journals. Except Jonathan Franzen. He didn’t seem bothered by what he read. But he did cross out all my adverbs and added some Oxford commas. In case you’re wondering how Jonathan Franzen dies, here’s the answer: he doesn’t.

I am the faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home. You might find this ambiguous, after all the word “home” is singular. So whose home is it that I secretly live in? Listen, some things in this tangled world are simple. I live in your home, and your home, and your home, I live in all of your homes simultaneously. I am many. [echo] I am many. I am one. [echo] I am one. You all live such different lives, teeming, that’s what you are: teeming. And I am there watching you.

You, Tony, you dream of being a poet. Resolve the unresolved. The worst that can happen is crushing disappointment and public mockery, and eviction when you can’t pay your rent. Many more awful things after that, get to it!

And you, Addie, you fled your previous city to escape a murder charge. Strangely, you didn’t commit the murder you were charged with, but you have committed murder. Weird choice to go on “House Hunters” as a wanted fugitive, but maybe it was a good first step to healing your soul.

And you, Morgan. You have an idea that could save us all, an epic defining idea, one of the greats, but you don’t know which one. You have so many ideas. I can tell you this: most of them are not important. One of them is vitally important. Good luck. Also, tip 20 per cent.

And you, I forgot your name, you tweet too much. We all tweet too much, but that doesn’t let you off the hook. That’s why I ate your phone. You can thank me later. You can all thank me later. Because you all will be seeing me soon. I think that tonight is the night to let slip my secret. You’ll soon see me fumbling wet and gray from out of the bathroom mirror, or folded up strangely loose skin and mashed bones in the bottom drawer of your dresser. Or you will see me scuttle on your walls, the hair hanging down from my faceless face. Or you will look out your kitchen window and there will be someone standing in your driveway, and it will be me, and there will be no one in the driveway and instead, I will be next to you in the kitchen. Faceless and so very very old. Won’t that be nice?

I’m the Faceless Old Woman who secretly lives in your home. And your home. And your home. And every home. And I will be seeing you very, very soon.

[music, applause]

Today’s proverb: Never judge a book by its cover. Judge it by the title page instead.

#welcome to night vale #wtnv transcripts #episode 164 #the faceless old woman #the faceless old woman live #finally #thanks for your patience #there might be more mistakes bc there were many big words

[minervahopebeyond]

Blood Daffodils.

Hi! I wanted to clear some things up: now I’m really doing whatever I like with the cannon dates. The battle will still take place in the 2nd of May but this month in the middle is going to be altered and there is a reason for it✨I hope you like this one! I’ve been really nervous about this moment and presenting some things in this chapter. So let me know what you though, please 🙌🏻💕Ps. As always, I’ve checked but sorry if you find any errors in this one.

Chapter 17: The truth.

“Wormtail.” Lucius Malfoy’s face was horrible. Don’t get him wrong, he hated the prat, but he looked like he had lost his mind and he had to endure physical pain constantly.

Harry just bowed his head sightly, he was unsure about calling him ‘Lucius’ or ‘Malfoy’, so he chose to stay silent.

Narcissa wasn’t better either, she seemed tired, defeated. Most of the people said that Draco looked like his father but, now, looking at Narcissa, he couldn’t help but to notice the resemblance. Their eyes, the ones from the Black family, her aristocratic features, the ones that clashed with her kind eyes and soft lips. All very very Draco.

“Cissy! I think that the cat finally caught this rat’s tongue” Bellatrix said, almost singing the entire thing and skipping her way to where they were. “It would suit you well, if you don’t talk ever again.” Then, her eyes turned to Nott. “Good, you came, they must be hungry.” Something seemed to flash through the boy’s eyes, his posture was unmoved, but something inside of him wasn’t the same. Harry could sense it in his magic.

“It’s been four days, Bellatrix.”

“And that’s why I think they must be hungry!” She replied giggling, it almost made Harry want to throw up right the on the spot.

Ron and Hermione entered, taking their parts to heart, sucking everyone’s arse and asking when would the meeting start because they had ‘important things at Hogwarts to attend to’; when Narcissa asked what things, it was Ron who took the lead claiming that they stopped some liberal group trying to get in contact with someone outside. Harry was rather impressed with him... He tried not to think about the fact that Malfoy would be too.

Nott said that he needed help with the prisoners, given the fact that he had to feed three people (which made Bellatrix sneer just at the idea of calling them people) that had been starving for four days. It was a given that Wormtail would be suggested for the task, considering that no other wanted to come near the cellars, clearly.

So, now, they were at the kitchen. Preparing some eggs, milk and rice. Nott took a little jar in the bottom of the cupboard and opened it, taking out a little bag full of nuts and almonds, and hiding it in his robe pocket.

“I’m sorry if this seems like a waste of time... but you can’t apparate them without them eating first-“

“I’m not complaining.” He cut him shortly and the brunette mumbled something that he could not quite understand and grabbed his tray, gesturing with his head for Harry to grab the other.

When they got to the cellars, Harry was taken aback with Luna’s reaction when she saw Nott. Hope in her eyes, kindness, but then, she noticed Wormtail standing beside him, so she lowered her blue eyes.

Nott whispered the incantations, opening the grid, and made his way in, carefully putting the tray on the floor and Harry did the same, walking like Pettigrew still, because he didn’t know how was this going to work.

“Lovegood.”

“Hello,” she said as she offered him a smile, her upper lip had dried blood on it. Then her eyes went directly towards the tray, looking at the food. Harry could see that her pupils dilated as she put a hand over her stomach. “I’m not that hungry, thank you.”

The last part she said it while stealing a glance of Harry (or Wormtail). The brunette sighed and turned around to take his tray to where Olivander was.

The man looked almost in the verge of dying, he was beaten up, and much more thin than Harry had ever saw him.

“Thank you, boy...” The man said with a weak voice as he came closer to the tray that was being laid in front of him.

Nott looked at him, gesturing to take the other tray to Griphook. The Gobblin didn’t look much grateful for the food, he supposed that being starved for four days would take away the kindness of a person.

Then, the brunette walked towards Luna again.

“You haven’t eaten in days and you are picky about food.” He stated flatly.

“I’m not picky, I’m sure everything tastes wonderful. I’m just not hungry.” She said it in the kindest way possible. Harry was starting to think that Luna was refusing to eat just to give a little extra food to the others... Apparently he was wrong.

“This is your vegan shit.” The boy hissed as he reached his pocket to take out the bag full of nuts and almonds that he had taken out of the cupboard earlier. Luna hadn’t saw it when she replied.

“It’s veganism and no” Then she turned to look at Harry. “Mr. Pettigrew you’ve been rather quiet.”

Something shifted inside of Harry as he looked at her... It always surprised him how utterly kind Luna was. Even with people who treated her badly or weren’t good in general.

Nott just snorted and extended the bag with the nuts and almonds to her. She widened her eyes and took it from his hands.

“Eat.” And the girl nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

After some time, with Luna’s mouth full and her paying very little attention to anything besides the food, Nott called her name and pointed in Harry’s direction. “Not his stupid aura now, but definitely him.”

And Luna’s piercing blue eyes blinked, astonished. She looked at Nott, then at Harry, then back at Nott. She blinked again before a huge smile invaded her face. She crooked her head to the side to look at the brunette.

“You are a sneaky slytherin, Theodore. It’s the best thing about you.”

And Harry could not miss the blush that appeared in his cheeks, or the way that his body stiffened as he crossed his arms and tried to look away.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Harry couldn’t help to blurt out. The other prisoners were now lifting their eyes from the food to look at him, Olivander specially. “You are in love and happy now? Is that it? What about Malfoy!?” And the brunette widened his eyes, looking frantic.

“Lower your bloody voice.” He hissed. “And what about Draco? You should know how he is better than me.” He spat out, reminding Harry that they still haven’t talked about how he was, because part of the deal was that they needed to be inside the Manor first.

“I know that he’s still sick thanks to you.” He hissed back. “While you are here playing house with Luna!”

Nott’s face frowned deeply. Then, something like terror appeared in his face before he grabbed Harry (well, wormtail) by the arm harshly, hissing madly at him.

“Are you telling me that he still has Hanahaki, you utter piece of shit?”

“Yes.”

“And you think that it’s me? Still? You are suppose to defeat the Dark Lord and you are so stupid that you can’t even distinguish what’s the truth.” Harry frowned, it seemed like the rant was more for Nott himself than for him. And then Harry was punched in the face. In front of everyone. He grabbed his nose in pain, all bleeding and hurting horribly. The brunette grabbed his wand and pointed it to his face. “Episkey.” And that hurt even worse than the punch itself.

“What was that for?” He asked, his voice strangled from the pain as he still pinched his nose.

“I told Draco that I loved him last year. I assure you, Potter, if it were me, he would have been cured since the stupid Quidditch match.” He spat out and Luna had to go calm Olivander and Griphook from yelling in excitement at the mention of his name. What...? “But it’s not me. It’s never been me. It has always been you, with your stupid glasses, and your stupid hair and scar, with all the things that I had to hear from him since we were eleven. Your bravery, your witty comebacks, how kind you are-“ His voice started to crack and something in Harry’s chest constricted because he was finally getting everything. “And you left him? With the Hanahaki? You are such a fucking arsehole. It’s a mystery what he sees in you.”

Harry felt like his soul left his body, like he wasn’t even on this plane, he was floating, dizzy, happy... Because, suddenly, every thing made sense. The coughing fits even when Nott wasn’t mentioned, the Quidditch match, Draco’s coughing whenever they talked about Ginny, how sick Malfoy had been after their first kiss until they kissed again, even the fact that Harry loved the smell of Daffodils... It was all because it was for him. All this fucking time...

And even though Nott was looking at him like Harry was the worst scum on earth, he couldn’t help but to smile, despite the terror and fear of them not being capable of going back at all. Draco loved him. Draco had Hanahaki for him. He loved Harry more than anyone in the whole world...

‘That means that last night he...’

It was real. Holy shit. It really meant that what Harry felt when they were together was all real. He wasn’t deluded, he wasn’t imagining things. The way that they touched was special for both of them, probably Draco had been biting his tongue not to blurt out that he loved him as much as Harry had been. The most perfect night in his entire life, now it was all true... And he left Draco alone after that...

Oh.

Oh shit.

Everything in his body froze. He really fucked up, didn’t he? Draco could take it as a rejection... He could even think that Harry used him-. No, no he couldn’t let him think that.

He had to get to him. He had to. If he died here tonight, then Draco would die in June. No. He couldn’t allow it. And now... Now they had a chance. How stupid was he? Padfoot and his dad tried to tell him... The way that they kissed last night... That wasn’t temporary, it never was. He could have it all, he could marry him, he could kiss him every bloody day if he wanted to. Draco could be the father of his children.

“We have to get out of here, I have to tell him, I have to tell him that I love him back.” Harry said, marveled with everything. Even being in those creepy cellars and even with half of his soul trembling in fear at the possibility of not coming back at all.

Pain flashed through Nott’s eyes before he rolled them in exasperation.

“Great. Fucking finally.” His voice sounded bitter. And, suddenly, he was seeing Nott in a whole new light... He couldn’t help but relate to him in some way. Until like ten minutes ago, Harry had thought that he was the one begging for a little bit of love from Draco, and it wasn’t something fun to feel, not at all. He didn’t wish it on anyone.

That was the Gryffindor in Harry talking, though.

The Slytherin in him was actually feeling rather smug. He was stuck in the fact that Draco wanted him, that he always had. He was even a little stuck in the idea of Nott trying to steal Draco away from him once he was cured, just like Harry had intentions of doing, or the idea of them having an affair behind his back...

He shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts away from it. No. He was going to concentrate in the important stuff: getting out, saving Draco. Those were the only things that mattered now. His jealousy of Nott could wait.

—————————

Harry gasped as they hit the ground after the apparition. The pain was unbearable. His vision was all blurry. He blinked, trying to clear it, looking at the rest of them, checking that the six of them had apparated to the same place. They were all there, good.

“Luna! Pass me the dittany please! It’s in my purse” Hermione yelled as she held Olivander. He felt Ron trying to help him get up.

“You alright, mate?”

No. Harry wasn’t alright. They had to duel all of them to get out of there. Apparently Hermione said something off, something that caught Bellatrix’s attention and that was that. Everything went to shit. They had left the cellars opened so Luna and the rest would follow them and hide until it was the moment to run to the fireplace. It seemed too easy, Harry had been in a goofy haze because of what Nott told him...

“Draco.” He said with a thin voice. Ron’s blue eyes looked at him with worry.

“...He is not here... Remember, mate?” And Harry shook his head trying to get up.

“The- The Hanahaki-“ he tried to explain. “Not... Nott. Me. Draco, I need-“ And his words started to fail him as his eyelid became heavy on his eyes. He blinked slowly.

At least they got the wand and the hair. In the middle of the fight, Hermione was the one who made sure of it. He was too busy ‘dueling Nott’, stealing his wand. They had to make it seem real, otherwise the brunette could have been punished with something worse than a cruciatus...

Hermione had casted a harsh diffindo on Bellatrix’s stomach, making her bow in pain and then she used that moment to cast an expelliarmus, the wand flying off her hand, and then she casted an stupify without hesitating, not even for one second. Ron covered for her to run, grab the wand, and to cut a short straw of hair off her head as well. Luckily for them, everyone was too busy fighting to actually understand what Hermione was doing. Luna had joined the fight and Harry passed her Pettigrew’s wand to defend herself. He could see the fear in Nott’s eyes when she joined...

Everything happened so fast, Harry was realizing that his face, his features were changing back. Hermione already looked like herself, Lucius Malfoy screaming for the rest of them to catch the mudblood as Ron pushed Olivander and Griphook to the fireplace. Harry grabbed Luna’s hand and ran towards them too. Still firing the spells, trying to be quicker. He casted a Fumos around them as he saw that his hands were really becoming his own.

“Is that...?” He heard Narcissa’s voice.

They threw themselves in the floo. Some of the snatchers did the same and they felt someone pulling them and tearing them apart through the whole thing. Now they were at the forest, just the six of them. Alive. He couldn’t fucking believe that they were alive.

“Mate, stay awake! Mione!!”

But it was too much effort to stay awake. Draco’s face appeared in his mind and he couldn’t help but to smile a little before closing his eyes.

———————————

When he woke up, he found himself lying in a cot. He had a blanket over him and a small pillow under his head. It took him a few minutes to realize that he was inside the tent that Hermione had safely put in his purse before leaving.

“Harry!” He heard Ron’s voice filled with relief. “Hermione!! He woke up!” And he pulled a face because the noise was killing him. “How are you feeling?” He asked, but Harry couldn’t focus on that right now.

“Draco.”

“Harry...?” Hermione’s voice interrupted him. She held her finger in front of his eyes. “How many fingers do you see?” Harry pushed her hand away.

“Three, Mione.” He said as he started to get up. “We have to go back.”

“Where?” Ron asked in confusion.

“To Draco.” He explained. “Nott told him that he loves him last year. Draco is still sick, it’s not him.” And he couldn’t contain the soft smile that appeared in his face. “It’s me. I can’t fucking believe it.”

Hermione widened her eyes, looking at him, shocked. And, honestly, Harry felt the same way.

“OH THANKS TO MERLIN, YOU OBLIVIOUS IDIOT.” Ron said and then yelled to someone that wasn’t there with them. “LUNA!! PLEASE TELL NOTT THAT HE IS MY FAVORITE PERSON EVER.” Harry blinked, confused. “Until someone had the balls! Honestly. Wait-“ The redhead turned around looking at him with severe eyes. “....You aren’t going to tell us again that you don’t have feeling for him, are you?”

“No, That was because...” He stopped talking as he started to connect the dots.

“Mate...?”

Fuck. Everything seem to fall into place, of course Ron knew. He had been sending angry looks at Harry since August, especially after they started their whatever thing. Some days before they left, Mione and Ron had sat him down to talk, trying to make him admit that he was in love with Draco, saying that it would hurt him not to know that before having the three of them disappear. Harry had denied every single thing, and asked them to drop the subject entirely. He had thought that his friends were worried about him... It never occurred to him that they were actually worried about Draco.

“You two knew that it was me??” He hissed at them. “And you didn’t tell me?? SINCE WHEN?” He demanded for them to explain.

Hermione tried to answer but her words died in her mouth, he could se her with her mouth opening and closing. Ron on the other hand...

“Hey! What were we supposed to do, huh? What if you rejected him? I didn’t want to see him hurt-“

“So, you decided to leave him sick for months instead of telling me?? Are you fucking kidding me? I’M IN LOVE WITH HIM, IT’S SO FUCKING OBVIOUS.”

“WE KNOW, HARRY! WE DIDN’T KNOW THAT YOU KNEW!” Hermione yelled right back at him.

And suddenly Luna joined the conversation too.

“I agree, it was rather obvious.” Then she smiled at Ron. “Theodore says that you aren’t his favorite anything. But he always lies, I wouldn’t listen to him much.”

He started to gather his things and walked out of the tend, he could feel everyone following him.

“Harry, where are you going??” Hermione yelled. “You can’t go back to him. You can’t. We need to get inside the vault first! That was your plan, remember? We talked to Griphook, he said that he could help-“

“Fuck the plan! I’m just going over there for a second and coming back, I can do that-“

“To Draco? You think that you can go over there, tell him that you love him, the one thing that he wished to hear for seven years and then be like ‘Hey, I actually have to go right now!’. You think he’ll believe you?? Out of nowhere? It’s important that he believes it Harry. It’s so so important because otherwise he could feel it like a betrayal or something out of pity, and the roots could get to the heart. I’m not joking, it’s his life.”

And... when she put it like that it made sense... He was actually unsure that he could tell Draco the truth and still gather in him the strength to leave again. No... He wanted to kiss him until his head felt dizzy, he wanted to lock himself in the bedroom with him and stay there, memorizing every part of Draco’s body and to repeat again and again that he loved him so much, that he was perfect.

Harry took a deep breath and turned around to see the three of them standing there, worrisome in their eyes.

“Fine... But as soon as we have that, we are going back.” He said, fucking pissed off that he didn’t listened to Padfoot, or his dad. Malfoy could have been cured already.

“That’s fine with me, mate.”

“Yes, Harry. But it’s going to take a few days okay? We have to be really careful not to get caught... And we need to rest, all of us.”

Harry nodded, internally cursing because it fucking sucked. But the had no choice, he still needed to defeat Voldemort, much to his dismay. Sometimes he really wished that his major concern would be normal stuff... Like what was he going to study for example. But no, his concerns actually were: ‘the love of my life could die and it’s my fault’ and ‘there is a blood supremacist that’s been trying to kill me since I was born and now I have to get all the horcruxes and kill him’ Fuck his life.

“Come back inside, Harry. Hermione made soup.” Luna said kindly and he sighed before following her.

He didn’t know if he should ask... He didn’t know if it was his place but he wanted to know if it had worked.

“Is Nott alright? Did they blamed him for us getting in?”

Luna shook her head gently and turned to look at him again.

“No, I’m sure he was punished but that was expected. He could talk normally, so I guess he is alright.” Then she chuckled a little. “He is really mad that you took his wand, It was smart, though. It made them think that he was really fighting you, but now he is wandless and he called you a few names.” Harry snorted.

“Yeah, I can imagine which ones.”

A fond smile appeared in Luna’s face as she skipped towards the tent again. Harry was very confused and amused at the same time.

#drarry #fanfic #fanfiction

[illshowyourhurricanes]

Rewind, Restart (Prequel)

Instead of a part 2 this time, y’all are getting a little look at pre-Part One. Here’s Billy Russo, a few days’ time since his escape, all tortured mind and finding himself in the middle of a dangerous situation. 

Trigger warning: weaponry, mentions of death, fighting

Rating: PG-13/R

Word count: 2066

Hope you all enjoy! If you want to be added to or removed from my tag list, just shoot me an ask!

Taglist: @dylanobrusso @obscurilicious @the-blind-assassin-12 @something-tofightfor @ms-delos @madamrogers @lexxierave @agent-bossypants @yannii04 @gollyderek @carlaangel86 @bicevans @maydayfigment @thisisparadisemylove @ladyofnaps​ @malionnes​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​

He was haunted with images of skulls and blood.

Every night, it was the same. Whenever Billy managed to fall asleep, to quiet the torment and torture that burned and branded his mind, even his restful moments were stained with terror-- terror that Billy couldn't make sense of. And every single night, his reaction was the same: a scream, guttural, from a place so deeply rooted inside him, he sounded foreign to his own ears. His eyes, black as coal, flew open, wide and wild, his gaze darting back and forth in the darkness. Damp with sweat, shivering in fear, he was deafened save for the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his chest, yet the part that Billy despised more than the repetitive night terror itself was, night after night, the last realization that hit him. His face-- ugly, disfigured, permanently slashed with scars-- was streaked with tears. 

There was a hammering in his head, a rush of adrenaline that had his chest heaving. Paranoid and delusional, his eyes searched the parameters of the room once more as Billy pushed himself up into a semi-upright position. His back was rod-straight, his ragged breathing the only sound in the otherwise stark silent room. Collapsing back onto his pillows propped against the headboard, Billy struggled to steady himself momentarily, inhaling deeply, jaw flexing. He ran a hand over his face, fingertips brushing across thick, numbing scar tissue. It was a reminder; a realization; a reawakening of anger and self-loathing, anguish and absence, abandonment of his severed mind-- any trace of an answer condemned. 

A sneer of contempt contorted his mangled face. Dropping his head into his hands, Billy cried without abandon, his body shaking, ransacked with sobs. Howling with torment and wretched in his agony, he abandoned his one perfected apathetic demeanor. He was an animal, a monster, a beast-- a vulgar, raging, impetuous abomination. Billy had lost everything he'd built from nothing and his stomach churned in disgust. He had returned to his birthright, had fallen to his roots. Billy Russo was a grunt, a gutter rat. He was cracking apart, shattering into splinters.

***               ***               *** .              ***

It was as if Billy was on autopilot. He walked purposefully along the streets of Brooklyn, his surroundings becoming more familiar with each block. Hands stuffed in the pockets of a worn coat, head covered by the hoodie he wore underneath, Billy found himself standing outside of the closest place he could ever call "home"- and it was gone. The Ray of Light Group Home had been bulldozed down. Apartments stood where housing had been, concrete poured and hardened over a lot that had served as a baseball diamond for generations of orphaned children. 

There was little that he remembered, and less than a handful of his few, scrambled memories were tangible, concrete. One of those had  a big part of Billy’s  life that he didn’t necessarily want to remember, yet clung to in an effort to have some sense of self-- no matter how demeaning and lonely. And it no longer existed. It was a surprise, but when he laid eyes on what had been constructed, memory of the complex came back to him in a rush. It was familiar; he’d known before that Ray of Light was gone. There was an importance to the apartments, a reason he remembered them instead of things that were paramount: the company Anvil that he’d founded, his knowledge that Frank’s family would be killed staying tucked away without so much as a warning… what had happened to his face. But he remembered this structure, and he stared across the street at the rows of windows built into the brick exterior. 

Time was a feeble thing, and Billy had no estimate of how long he stood still, just staring at his surroundings, his breath puffing out in small white clouds of smoke. Shoes scuffing over pavement caught his attention, his eyes searching through the darkness. Across the street, just outside of the housing development, Billy found the source of the sound. A dull, dim glow from the closest streetlight did just enough to illuminate two figures. The shorter of the two turned to leave and was roughly grabbed by the arm. The street lamp glinted off the blade of a knife.

Agile and silent, Billy darted across the street. His hand wrapped around the barrel of the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. 

"Hey!" he called out, coming to a stop no more than a foot from what seemed to be a confrontation. "Is there a problem here?" 

He was unfazed by the knife gripped in the male's hand, but with one quick glance at you- the one person the blade was threatening- it was obvious the woman in question was affected. She was frozen in terror. A bitter laugh dripped from the mouth of the male as he sized up Billy. Contempt darkened his gaze as he looked back at the assailant, silently daring him to make a move. 

"I don't know. Is there a problem, freak?" 

Freak. In one quick motion, Billy drew his gun, cocking the hammer as he pointed it toward the knife-wielding asshole. Billy looked at him, wild-eyed and silently begging him to antagonize either himself or the woman, who had slowly crept behind him further. Seconds later, the aggressor withdrew his knife, jogging in the opposite direction. 

Pocketing his gun, Billy turned to face her. "Please," she  begged, voice shaking, "Don't hurt me."

He shook his head slightly, most of his face shadowed by his hoodie and with help from the angle of the streetlight. "Are you hurt?" He looked over the stranger with a quick sweep of his eyes, a quick check for any signs of blood or other signs of foul play. 

She was visibly shaking, still struggling with the previous situation as well as with the knowledge that this man that appeared to care about her well-being had a gun and seemed quick to use it. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth,  dry like sandpaper. Taking a few deep breaths, she tried to steady herself, yet felt as if she could crumple to the ground at any given moment. 

"N..no," she managed finally. "No, he didn't have the time to hurt me. He asked me for the time, and I stopped to check and..." She trailed off, looking across the parking lot, toward the general direction Billy had come from. "And you appeared." Finally, she peered up at his face, seeing not much more than the dark shadow of scruff over his chin. "Thank you."

Standing still for a moment, Billy nodded in response. Instinct told him not to leave her alone just yet; that asshole could be hiding around the corner and neither of you would know the difference. He'd be much more keen to violence after being threatened and humiliated. 

"You live nearby?" Before she could answer, he cleared his throat and quickly scanned the premises. "You should let me walk you the rest of the way," he suggested, glancing back down at her. Without a beat of consideration, she nodded her head vehemently. This stranger had just saved her from another stranger, one who had pulled a knife on her. Somehow, she had faith that his motives were not ill-intentioned. 

He took a couple steps, slowing as she began to walk by his side. "I'm Billy," he volunteered, attempting to put her at ease. There hadn't been a shadow of recognition in her eyes at any point since Billy and his gun came to her rescue, and he was fully aware of that; it was the only reason he'd thought to offer his name. He'd seen the news. He knew he was a wanted man. He also knew that he looked nothing like the wanted man in the photo the media was using for identification.

"Hi, Billy," she said with a trace of a smile over her lips. "I'm Caroline... I live in this complex, so I won't be wasting too much more of your time." 

Billy's jaw flexed. He had mixed feelings about his former group home; he recalled the deep-seated knowledge that his mother didn't want him, the fucked-up things he'd had to endure as a child in the system. But, Ray of Light had provided him with a place to stay, food on the table, childhood friends he'd made until he was out on his own. It was no coincidence that he didn’t keep in touch; in the end, it was always everyone for themselves. Yet, throughout the years-- save for his time in Kandahar and seemingly endless torturous bullshit months he'd spent in the Sacred Saints-- it was Ray of Light that he'd come to when he needed to find some kind of fucking solace--to breathe. Had he visited in the past three years? Nothing came to mind: it was just another small, insignificant memory that he couldn’t recall. There was a hole in his life, a hole of the last three years, that plagued him more than the myriad of terrible things that had certainly happened to him. At least with those, no matter how much they stung, he was aware. 

"It's not a waste," Billy replied with a shrug, turning his attention to Caroline as the pair walked side-by-side. "I lived in this area as a kid. Couldn't sleep and ended up out here.”

Caroline nodded politely, her pace slowing as the two of you reached your building. "This is it," she  said, pulling her keys from her bag. She hesitated for a moment, glancing down at her boot-clad feet before attempting to meet Billy's eyes. From what she  could see, they were unnaturally dark. It was as if they were all pupil.  

"Thank you, Billy." Her voice was earnest, and she made a conscious effort to not allow herself to be overcome by emotion. The night had been quite overwhelming. "I wish I could find a way to repay you, but there's nothing that matches the value of not being tossed in a dumpster down an otherwise unoccupied alleyway." She forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes; she didn’t have the energy. The knowledge that she very well could have ended up in that very situation-- instead of safely at home-- sent  a shiver down her spine.

Billy flashed a hint of a smile, gesturing toward the door. His feet stayed planted where he stood. 

"Go ahead inside," he suggested. Seeing this woman disappear inside safely would give him the go-ahead to leave with a clear conscience. A sudden flash of anger sliced through him. If he ever ran into the asshole that had tried to hurt her, he'd kill him.

"Caroline?" Billy called out. She stopped and turned just after opening the door. "Take care of yourself." Eyes lingering on her until she disappeared inside, Billy turned and walked away from that apartment complex, one he was all too familiar with, as clear as crystal in his mostly foggy mind. He’d spent a nice amount of time there… time with you. He continued to walk through the gridlocked streets, remembering your apartment number, the layout of your place, your name and your laugh and the way you bit your lip to try to stifle your moans and how it never worked… the way he’d walked out of your life without so much as a word. 

He needed to see you. Maybe you could help him fit some of those jigsaw puzzle pieces back together, jog his memory, sort things into the right order, a timeline that he could eventually use to think in a more linear fashion. Billy needed his life back, years of his life that he’d spent doing terrible things, unspeakable things he couldn’t imagine himself doing. He thought about the disfigurement of his face, upper lip curling in disgust as the mental image of his scars glared ugly in his mind. He knew he didn’t deserve to be allowed inside, much less any type of assistance in anything where you were concerned. But you were the only thing he had once, and for the only time since he could remember, you had wanted him too. Billy had grown to accept the fact that he himself was the one person he needed. But now, after all that had happened, he was a wanted man, a fugitive, a name, a fractured mind, and a hideous face. Now, Billy Russo needed someone other than himself, and that person was you.

#rewind restart #prequel #s2 billy russo x reader #my writing

[somedayonbroadway]

Hey! Can you go into detail on the Outsiders AU

Okay, alright, here it is, the one you’ve all been waiting for...

The Outsiders AU

Characters

Romeo- Ponyboy Curtis

Crutchie Morris- Johnny Cade

Spot Conlon- Dally Winston

Jack Kelly- Darry Curtis

Racetrack Higgins- Sodapop Curtis

Albert DaSilva- Two-Bits

Finch- Steve

Morris Delancey- Randy

Oscar Delancey- Bob

JoJo- Cherry

Buttons- Marcia

Story

So Romeo is a greaser. He’s a scrawny kid. He’s a bit different from a lot of his friends and especially his brothers. While he loves to run and is extremely fast he’s nowhere near as built or as athletic as his two older brothers, the only family he has.

Romeo is extremely close with his big brother Racetrack. Yes, that’s his real name. Racetrack Kelly. No one knows for sure why. But Race never minded the name. It was always odd to know that their parents had a James and a Romeo and a Racetrack in the middle.

Romeo and Racetrack are as close as brothers can be. They are affectionate and playful and Race loves to make his little brother smile.

Jack, however, Romeo’s oldest brother, is a bit of a different story.

See, before their parents died, Jack and Romeo got along just fine, great even, but ever since the crash, Romeo and Jack has always budded heads. Jack always won the arguments. It was because he was twenty and Romeo was only thirteen. It was because Jack always told him that if he didn’t listen to him, he and Racer would end up in a boys home.

It was easy to forget that Race was still a kid, what with him dropping out of school and getting a full time job at a gas station. Race acted like Jack did. Like an adult with responsibilities and bills to pay. Race would even have to help Jack sleep sometimes by massaging Jack’s back after work, which Jack always protested. He didn’t like it when Race had to put him to sleep like that. He always just asked Race to help him relax so he could get them some dinner or something.

Jack is stressed all the time. He works two jobs to keep their house that their parents used to pay for. He gave up college to watch after his two brothers. And all he knew how to make after the crash was chocolate cake, resulting in them having chocolate cake for breakfast far too often. It draws their friends over a lot.

Romeo thinks Jack resents him. Being so young, he doesn’t realize that the reason Jack is so hard on him all the time is because he’s truly trying to protect him and keep him and Race with him.

One day, Romeo is walking home from the movies and a gang of socs see him alone. They decide to try and pounce on him. Scare him.

See, socs and greasers are mortal enemies. And every soc knows not to mess with any greaser in a pack. Greasers play dirty to protect their own. In the community that Romeo lives in, every greaser knows each other. Every greaser looks out for every other.

But today, Romeo’s alone. He loves going to the movies and doesn’t have anyone to go with. So he’s walking home alone.

And the socs jump him.

They knock him to the ground and pull a knife on him, teasing him and telling him they’re gonna cut his greasy hair. Romeo tried to act tough. He tries to push them off, but they manage to knick his throat.

That’s when the rest of the neighborhood finds them.

Albert, Race, Jack, Finch, Spot, everybody. They tackle the socs to the ground, jump on their car and on their backs to get them off of the kid. Jack grabs Romeo up off the ground and puts him behind him, practically daring anyone to try and take another swing at the kid.

When the greasers eventually scare the socs off, Race runs over to Romeo immediately, checking him over and making sure he’s okay. Jack does so too, asking him how bad the cut was. But Romeo leans more towards Racer. He always does.

Everyone is around to make sure Romeo is alright and Romeo sees Spot who he hasn’t seen in months. He asks when Spot got out of the clink. Spot just shrugs. He doesn’t answer really answer him. He’s more concerned about asking the boy next to him if those were the same socs that jumped him a few months ago.

Crutchie is the sweetest and kindest and purest sole among the greaser gang. He is the gentlest of them all.

Four months prior to this, Crutchie was jumped by a group of socs who nearly killed him. Crutchie brushes it off, tells everyone not to worry about him. He says he’d gotten worse from his father. See, Crutchie’s father is the one who gave him the bum leg that gave way to his lovable nickname. His mother’s a drunk. She never stops it. Crutchie floats around from couch to couch, ending up at Jack’s house more often than not, as it is widely known that Jack’s door is open to any greaser who needs a place to stay.

Anyways, Jack takes Romeo home as Race is close behind.  That night, Race puts Jack to sleep by massaging his back and then takes Romeo to bed. They share the one queen size bed in the house and Jack has a twin bed in the other room that simply lays on the floor.

Race asks Romeo if he’s cold and cuddles up to him when he says that he is. Then he tells Romeo that the only reason Jack is hard on him is because of how much he loves him. Romeo argues and curls into Race, telling him that Jack doesn’t treat Race the way he treats him. Race gives up and tells Romeo to go to sleep as he rolls over. He says he has to go to work so Romeo needs to stay quiet and still. But the second he rolls over, Romeo wraps his arms around him from behind and makes Race laugh. He tells Race that he loves him and then goes to sleep.

The next day, Spot promises to take Romeo and Crutchie to a drive in movie theatre. He does. Spot grabs then a little early and he lets them watch while he terrorizes some kid socs.

Eventually, they make it to the movie where they sneak in after Spot cuts a whole in the fence with a pocket knife. There, they meet a couple of soc girls. JoJo and Buttons. Spot attempts to hit on JoJo but she tells him off with the help of Romeo and Crutchie who admit to him that he’s taking it too far. Spot would get angry and leave and JoJo and Buttons would invite the boys to move up and sit with them. Romeo and Crutchie would defend Spot a bit to them, stating that they don’t know Spot and he’s a really good guy if they would get to know them.

JoJo and Buttons get irritable after their boyfriends try to come in and tell them to come back to their date. They get them to leave them alone and try to explain to Romeo and Crutchie that not all socs are the same. They don’t really believe her.

Eventually, Spot comes back trying once again to flirt with JoJo only to get splashed in the face with soda and told to go away. They go to leave, asking Romeo and Crutchie to walk them home. They do, along with some greasers they find along the way, like Albert and Finch. They are however, followed by a group of socs led by Morris and Oscar, JoJo and Button’s dates. They are tipsy at this point, and they are already looking for a fight as they demand JoJo and Buttons get away from the “rats” as they call them. The greasers gear up for a fight only for JoJo to stop them. She tells Romeo that it would just be easier for them to go with Morris and Oscar.

JoJo and Morris have been dating for a while. Oscar and Buttons had only just gone out on one date.

The socs leave and the greasers walk home together. Albert and Finch leave Crutchie and Romeo in the park in the middle of their primarily greaser neighborhood, knowing that Crutchie always debated whether or not to go home to his alcoholic parents. They always offer him a place to stay, but Crutchie doesn’t want to feel like a burden so he typically sleeps in the park under a blanket of newspapers.

On this night in particular, Romeo sits down with Crutchie for a little while, just to talk to him, and falls asleep. Crutchie wakes him up about an hour later and tells him that his brothers will be worried about him so he needs to get home. Romeo offers Crutchie their couch if he gets cold and then heads home, leaving his friend in the park.

He gets home to find Jack and Racer sitting in the living room, anxiously waiting for him. The second he walks in, Jack is getting up and yelling at him for being late and scaring him out of his mind. Romeo tries to explain that he hadn’t meant to fall asleep or stay out so late. Race tries to calm them both down as best he can but Jack yells at him, telling Race that he doesn’t need his kid brother telling him how to deal with his other kid brother and then telling Romeo that he couldn’t even call the police because the police would take Race and Romeo away from him. Again, Race tries to calm Jack down, only for Jack to yell at him again.

Romeo jumps on Jack’s back and tells him not to yell at Race. That’s when Jack lashes out. He throws Romeo off his back and backhands him before he can stop himself.

Everything freezes for a moment. Jack can’t fully comprehend what he has just done. He tries to apologize, but Romeo is already off running and before Jack or Race can fully recover, he’s gone.

Romeo runs back to the park and wakes up a shivering Crutchie and tells him to come with him, that they can run away and get away from the people who don’t appreciate them. Crutchie tries to ask him what’s wrong and Romeo starts crying and tells Crutchie that Jack hit him and he goes on and on about how Jack hates him and wishes he had already sent him to a boys home. Crutchie tries to tell him that that is not true and how much Jack loves him, but he’s interrupted when they hear the sound of a car coming behind them. They freeze and look over at it only for Crutchie to pale and tell Romeo that that’s the same car the guys were driving when he got jumped.

The socs see them.

They try to run, but with Crutchie’s leg, they don’t get very far. Romeo says he’s gonna run to get Race (and Jack by extension, even though he doesn’t say it), but the socs catch them before he can. It’s Oscar and Morris and their friends. And they’re drunk.

They threaten the boys, tell them to stay away from their girls. Crutchie tries to stand up to them. It only makes them mad.They go to beat him but Romeo jumps on Morris’s back.

So they turn on him.

They beat him and drag him to the fountian a couple yards away. They try to drown him.

A few moments later, Romeo is pulled from the water. He half expects Jack to be there, pulling him into a hug and apologizing like crazy. He kind of hopes for it. But he looks over to see Crutchie standing beside him, looking completely shaken with a bloodied knife (a pocket knife that Jack gave him) in his hand. It doesn’t take Romeo long to figure out what happened. Not with Morris’s body only a few feet away from him.

He throws up almost immediately and Crutchie tells him it’s alright, that they’d figure this out. So they run off and go to find Spot. They’d find him at a party of some guy that he happens to be staying with and gives Romeo an extra set of clothes to warm him up and a loaded gun to Crutchie. He then tells the boys to get on a train and head west to an abandoned church he used to stay at when his father first kicked him out, commenting that he hated that he would be the one to have to tell Jack his little brother was going into hiding because of a murder.

The two do as they’re told. They go after Crutchie hugs Spot and tries not to cry.

The two hide from the cops on their way to the abandoned church and the morning after they get there, Crutchie goes out to get them some food, also grabbing a copy of Gone With The Wind for Romeo and some dye for the kid’s hair. Romeo immediately shoots down the idea but Crutchie explains that the socs went to the police and their descriptions are in the papers.

Romeo lets Crutchie cut and bleach his hair. He only cries a little, remembering how much his mother used to love his hair. He remembers his brothers and how close they had been when their parents had still been alive and he cries to Crutchie about how much he wants one of Jack’s hug at that moment.

It is widely known throughout the greasers that Jack gives the best hugs.

Crutchie reassures him that he’ll see Jack and Racer again and that everything will be okay. And then he lets Romeo cut his hair and tells him to have a field day.

For almost a week, the two are holed up at this place. Romeo reads Gone With The Wind to Crutchie for some kind of entertainment. One day they get up to watch the sunrise and Romeo recites a Robert Frost poem, “Nothing Can Stay Gold”. He admits he doesn’t truly know what Frost means by the poem and that’s why he remembers it so well.

Days later, Spot comes to check on them. He laughs when he sees Romeo’s blond hair and teases him about wanting to be more like Racer everyday. Romeo pushes at him but Spot gives him a letter from Race and Romeo immediately perks up. In the letter Race explains that he’s worried sick and Jack is even worse off. He tells Romeo that Jack cried for hours after he’d lashed out, and had tried to go out to find him.

Romeo feels horrible and gets upset so Spot tries to take both him and Crutchie out to eat to cheer them up, where he explains to them that ever since Morris’s death, the violence between socs and greasers have gotten worse and there is going to be a rumble later on in the week. And Spot would tell them they had a spy on the inside. JoJo. And that people that were investigating were thinking that Morris was killed out of self defense.

Crutchie would tell Spot he was going to turn himself in. And Spot would get angry. He’d tell him that he didn’t want him to turn out like him, mean and callous. Crutchie would say it's not like his old man would miss him and Spot would lecture him even more, telling him so what? Spot’s old man didn’t even notice he was in jail. But it didn’t matter. He had Jack and Hot Shot and Racer and Albert and all the boys and that was enough.

Then he would immediately tell Romeo that he better not tell Jack he said that.

They’d drive back to the city in Spot’s car, stumbling across the small church that has caught on fire. Without really thinking about it, Romeo jumps out of the car and rushes in to save a bunch of kids who are stuck inside. Crutchie and Spot rush after him, trying to get him out and Crutchie and Spot get caught inside while Romeo helps three kids out the window. The building collapses.

Crutchie and Spot are rescued and taken to the hospital while Romeo rides with a cop and is questioned about the entire affair. He sees Crutchie rolled in, barely conscious and burned up real bad. He’s told the roof collapsed and broke the other boy’s back. And he sees Spot come in not too long after, not looking near as bad as the older boy threatened to gut him if he ever did something that stupid again.

At the hospital, it’s only a couple of hours later that Romeo hears footsteps. He looks up just in time to see Race rushing towards him, lifting him up and hugging him tightly.

Romeo cries a bit in Race’s arms before opening his eyes to see Jack nervously standing behind them, watching Romeo with tears in his eyes. Before he can even offer a greeting, Romeo is rushing towards him and flinging his arms around his brother’s waist. Jack would admit he thought he lost Romeo like they lost their mom and dad and he’d hold onto him for dear life. Then the three brothers would just stand there clinging to each other in the hospital waiting room.

Jack takes his brothers home, practically clinging to Romeo the entire time and telling him how much he loves him.

The next morning, Jack wakes Race and Romeo up for breakfast and Jack asks Romeo if he’s feeling ok. Romeo insists that he’s fine but Jack says he could probably stay home if Romeo needed him to. That’s when Albert and Finch barge into the already full house, grabbing a chocolate cake and beer for breakfast as Albert sits in front of their old TV set to watch Mickey Mouse cartoons.

Albert says that he’ll babysit Romeo and Jack lets him, only teasing him by telling him to get a job on his way out.

Albert takes Romeo out for the day, walking around the city and visiting Race at work, like usual, asking about everything. Romeo doesn’t want to talk about it too much.

Eventually, they once again stumble over the same soc car that was full of the bullies who had nearly killed Crutchie months ago and then nearly drown Romeo just a few days prior.

Oscar says he doesn’t want a fight, though Albert gears up for one, along with Hot Shot who happens to be nearby. Oscar just asks if he can talk to Romeo alone for a minute. Romeo agrees, though Albert is hesitant.

Oscar lets Romeo sit in his car as he tells Romeo that he’s sorry and cries over his brother who is dead because they’d gotten stupid drunk and couldn’t have been stopped otherwise. He tells Romeo he is unhappy with the idea of the rumble and will not be participating and states that the violence between greasers and socs won’t be solved that way.

After that, Al takes Romeo to visit Crutchie in the hospital, where Albert calls the kid Charlie for the first time in years and cries over how bad he looks. Romeo asks if he thinks Crutchie is gonna die and Albert refuses to answer. Crutchie asks for another copy of Gone With The Wind so Romeo can finish reading it to him so Albert goes to get him one from the gift shop. When he leaves, Crutchie tells Romeo that he’s scared and, while he’d wanted to kill himself in the past, he didn’t want to die anymore. When Al gets back, they are asked to leave because Crutchie’s mother is there to visit him. Crutchie gets angry and begins to yell at the nurse to get his mother to go away. He passes out after fussing for only a minute and Albert storms out of the room crying and yells at the mother who is standing outside the door in a fit of tears telling her that she was only ever a lousy drunk and this is where it had led her.

The two boys then go visit Spot in the same hospital to find him flirting his way around the hospital staff. Spot tells them he’s going to break out of this joint soon and Albert laughs and tosses him a bar of chocolate which he says he stole from the gift shop.

Later that night, the greasers are gearing up for the rumble. Race and Albert and Finch are extra excited, doing handstands and flips all the way down there while Jack sticks back with Romeo and tells him to stay back because Jack can tell he’s not feeling well. Romeo promises to stick to the littler guys and call for Jack if he really needed help. So Jack lets him go, carrying him on his back to the park.

The rumble gets out of hand fast. Romeo gets beat on harder than he’d expected. But the greasers ultimately win.

Spot, who had showed up just in time for the rumble to start, takes Romeo back to the hospital to see Crutchie who they are able to talk to for only a moment before the boy loses his life, telling Romeo to “stay gold”.  

Spot loses it. He begs Crutchie to wake up. He cries for him and gets frantic when the kid just lays there motionless before he runs out of the room, leaving Romeo alone with their dead friend.

Romeo goes home and immediately is in Jack’s arms. He has to tell Jack that Crutchie’s dead and Jack cries right along with him.

When the phone rings later that night, Albert answers it, telling Jack its Spot and that Spot is demanding to talk to him. Jack takes the call and is told by Spot that the police are coming after him again for robbing a convenience store down the road and that he needs help. Jack tells him that he’ll meet them in the park and tells everyone one else what’s going on.

They rush to try and hide Spot. But the police get to him first. Spot has an unloaded gun in his hand. The greasers know Spot’s guns are rarely ever loaded. They try to tell the cops that, screaming at them not to hurt Spot, but Spot is shot several times while he’s waving around his useless weapon and he dies right then and there.

Jack tries to turn around and hold onto Romeo. But Romeo collapses.

Romeo is sick for several days, weak from the burns and bruises and new concussion he has from the rumble. When he wakes up, Jack gives him a copy of Gone With The Wind, left to him by Crutchie and tells him that the hearing about Morris’s murder is the next day.

Jack and Race both take the day off to spend all the time with Romeo that they know they can. Jack calls Romeo “baby” a couple times, trying to show his affection more often now that he almost lost his little brother.

The next day, the hearing happens. JoJo testifies and tells the jury about how her boyfriend was drunk and looking for a fight and had been violent the last time she’d seen him.

Romeo is released into the custody of Jack and allowed to go home as he is cleared from charges.

A few days later he is going back to school. JoJo, who told Romeo a long time ago that she might not be able to say hi to him in public, goes back to ignoring him.

Romeo is told that his grades are dropping and that if he can write one good paper, his teacher will pass him with a C. He goes home to Jack and Race only for Jack to ask him about school and about where he wants to go to college and Romeo starts arguing with him. Once again, they try to put Race in the middle of it all, only for Race to get defensive and run out of the house.

Jack and Romeo chase him down and Jack holds him tightly, apologizing to him so much as Race cries about being a rope in a tug of war for them. And for a while, the three of them just stay there, holding onto each other.

The next morning Romeo begins to work on his paper, looking through the book that Crutchie had left for him. He finds a note. Crutchie’s last words to him, instructing Romeo to “Stay Gold” once again and telling Romeo that he was proud to die if it meant the kids they’d saved got to live.

Romeo starts on his paper, reciting the events that had happened within the past week or so.

And there you have it folks, 9 pages later here is your Outsiders RP Outline! I hope you all enjoyed it!

For more RPs, check out my list here! Thank you all so much!

#newsies #the outsiders #newsies rp #romeo #jack kelly #racetrack higgins #crutch morris #spot conlon #Morris delancey #oscar delancey #greasers #socs #greasers vs socs #rumble #tw child abuse #tw abuse #tw violence #tw character death #anonymous #anon #anon response

[cupofteaguk]

the write ups

PART OF THE REPUTATION SERIES

summary: head boy Min Yoongi is a lot of things: patient, perfect, popular, and unwavering; structured so that nothing can threaten that mindset. nothing, except for you.

pairing: yoongi x fem!reader

genre: hogwarts au, head boy!yoongi, enemies to lovers au | fluff 

warnings: yoongi has a stick up his ass, many mentions of detentions various depictions of it that may or may not be accurate to actual Hogwarts detentions but alas i cannot say for certain

word count: 10k

.

When Min Yoongi is seventeen, he receives the school authority to go around acting as if there were a giant stick up his ass. In other words, he gets selected to be a Head Boy.

Unfortunately, the role is entirely too fitting for a boy who appears to have spent the first half of his childhood reading the handbook of rules for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry line by line and the second half of his childhood reciting those rules to anyone just barely beginning to step out of bounds. You would be very familiar with the lectures he gives, given how often you’ve had to listen through on several of his different accusations regarding your rule breaking and lack of discipline.

There’s no surprise you are slightly less than fond about the thought of Min Yoongi. After all, he’s served as the catalyst for several incidents that only continue to put a bad taste in your mouth. Like that time during your first year when you were frantically attempting to finish the rest of your Transfiguration homework the morning of the due date, only to be discovered and reported—resulting in a stern talking to from Professor McGonagall about the importance of time management and leaving your cheeks red with humiliation. Who had reported you? Min Yoongi.

Or the time in your third year when you and Karly were passing notes to one another about who was going to ask Quidditch star Jeon Jungkook to the approaching Yule Ball, only to be rapidly interrupted by a loud observation about your diverted attention. Long story short, not only did neither you nor Karly get to ask Jeon Jungkook to the Yule Ball, Jeon Jungkook (and everyone else, for that matter) knew of both your pathetic thirteen-year-old crush as well as the intentional process to progress an acquaintanceship with one of the most popular boys in school, but you also got your first taste of detention at the hands of Professor Snape. Who had delivered that loud observation? Min Yoongi.

To this day, just the sight of the polished silver trophies in the trophy room is more than enough to make you nauseous, having spent an entire night scrubbing relentlessly at the metal until a reflection appeared across the surface. Like bad memories, your hatred for Yoongi brew under the surface and became something you thought about constantly—despite the fact that he was more often than not barely even worth a breath or a thought.

Although you know not to dwell on his actions and the outcome you had to pay for those aforementioned actions, you learn quickly how to mask your embarrassment as well as a large extent of your emotions. Seventeen-years-old looks a little better on you as you have four years of life, experience, and the ability to develop immunity against general embarrassing moments or moments of distaste. Well, for the most part at least.

“What?” You have to bite your tongue to keep yourself from exerting too much of an exasperation, too much of a snarky nature that seems like the verbal form of rolling your eyes. “Min Yoongi got selected as Head Boy? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Good friend Karly sits opposite of you in the Leaky Cauldron, joining in on your criticism with an actual roll of her own eyes as her wrist flicks so that her palm faces upwards. “Apparently being charming in a way that involves kissing up to all the Professors is enough to guarantee you anything you would possibly want.”

You hum quietly underneath your breath, cradling the beer mug within your reach as you swirl the thing. The food you have ordered in front of you goes untouched. “I didn’t think Min Yoongi even wanted to be Head Boy. Thought he was too hung up on terrorizing young children who forget to turn in their homework assignments.”

Karly actually laughs at that, reaching over to pick at the french fries in the middle of the table. “I think that’s just with you.”

You roll your eyes back with a whine. “Please don’t remind me. As if Yoongi wasn’t already annoying enough, now he’s gonna be annoying with actual reason of authority. The highest reason of authority, for that matter.” You glare across at Karly. “Besides, he’s picked on you too. It’s not like his eagle eyes for trouble isn’t zeroed in on me. Have you forgotten the time we pulled that all-nighter in the trophy room because we had to clean all the trophies—because of Min Yoongi?”

“Oh no,” Karly interjects, palms directed at you this time. “I definitely remember that. But that’s the extent to which Yoongi has gone to rat me out, and I have a feeling that was only because you were gushing about how good Jungkook’s arms look like when gripping a broomstick!”

“Please do not remind me,” You emphasize, the slight flush on your cheeks serving as a reminder that of course you would remember such a thing. Jeon Jungkook has been part of Quidditch (and school, for that matter) royalty since his first year and all his accumulating friendships just add to that list of popularity. It explains why Yoongi is doing so well at the top of the school food chain.

Regardless, your crush on Jungkook is old news, as you are sure his head is too far up his ass, his mind is too fixated on playing professionally, and his mouth is prided upon kissing the most girls during after hours at the Three Broomsticks. You’ve taken to fixing your attention on much more pressing matters: like the upcoming NEWTs of your final year, or figuring out how to remain emotionally sane during your last year at Hogwarts, or just trying to navigate around handling Yoongi for one more moment.

“Oh god, speaking of…” Karly starts, trailing off when her eyes flicker towards the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron before immediately shifting back to you. Her eyes are hard and you don’t need a whole five years of friendship with Karly to know who she is referring to.

Although you normally would refuse to look over your shoulder to look upon what you know to be the bane of your existence, the temptation is strong this time around. Maybe it’s because you’ve gone the typical two months of summer vacation without having to hear his stupid voice that has only gotten deeper and silkier with the help of puberty or seen his dumb face that curves in all the right places. The thought only makes you hate him more.

As you look over to peer at him, you notice immediately that he’s with two other friends, two other pieces of the popularity crew. Kim Namjoon, Gryffindor, head of school newspaper The Hogwarts Daily, family who has just gotten back from China, or so you heard. Besides him is Jung Hoseok, Hufflepuff, a master at spells but also a master of tricks and pranks. You still remember one time during second year when he levitated a girl’s bottle of ink and accidentally spilled the entire content over her uniform.

You wish you could turn back around and go back to minding your own business, but a familiar yet unwelcoming weight places itself right behind your chair and Karly’s wary look leaves little to the imagination.

“Min Yoongi,” You greet in a false high-pitched voice that sounds anything but genuine. “I thought I could hear the cries of screaming children from that hell hole you crawled out of.” You rotate your hips enough to give him half of your attention. He’s alone, and when you flicker your gaze over you notice the two other boys already occupying a nearby table. “What are you doing here? Gonna stand outside Flourish and Blotts and breakdown all your horrible detention punishments to future students who’ll refuse to do their homework?”

Min Yoongi gives you a half-smirk, a little light setting in his eyes. “Charming as ever, I see. Although I’m warning you—you really shouldn’t talk that way to your new Head Boy. Haven’t you heard the news?”

“Unfortunately I did,” You return, turning around so that you give Yoongi your back. You reach for your mug of beer. “I hope you don’t expect me to go around kissing your ass and bending over for your every single whim.”

With your back on Yoongi, you don’t even know if he’s still around to hear these vaguely defined threats regarding his potential use of power. You do, however, stop when you feel a breath right at the shell of your ear. “I mean, you said it, not me.”

Your heart sticks itself right in your throat.

By the time you whirl back to look at Yoongi, he’s already making his way towards his friends at the other table. Karly is giving a wide-eyed look, as if she cannot believe what she just witnessed with her own two eyes.

You’re not even sure you would stand to explain it properly.

“I’m going to murder him slowly,” You say instead, reaching into your bag and pulling out enough money to cover the cost of the meal and the beers. You throw it on the table, grabbing your coat and scarf from the back of your chair. “C’mon, let’s get to Flourish and Blotts before Yoongi decides to make camp outside to terrorize the children.”

.

September first means an early wake-up call. It means meeting up with Karly at King’s Cross station and making your way together towards the platform division between nine and ten. It means running the carts headfirst and hearing the whistle of the train ringing loudly in your ear, serving as the best reminder that you are returning home.

Sticking to the normal pattern you have developed and memorized, you and Karly load your trunks and belongings into the side of the train before boarding. You meet up with Ronnie in a compartment he has saved for the three of you to occupy, giving you all a private space to gush to one another about the events of your summer holiday and what you hope the final year will consist of.

The art of catching up with two friends who have had their own set of vacations and plans and drama is a whole day ordeal. It helps time go by quicker, makes the hours between leaving Kings Cross to arriving at Hogwarts feel like nothing. Add the sweets from the trolley, it calls for a train ride of sugar and chocolate and a little too much laughter that leaves you breathless.

The sky is adapting a pinkish tint, a well-versed sign that the train ride is coming to a close—you assume it’s probably another hour or so before the train docks at the station and yet the conversations between the three of you are far from done. In fact, Ronnie is still telling you of the story in which he traveled to Japan over the summer holiday for one of those intricate silk bomber jackets when there is a knock on your compartment door. The silhouette doesn’t leave much indication about who could be on the other side, so you exchange a look with Karly before straightening up and sliding open the compartment.

You yelp slightly, blinking once, twice, thrice, upon the realization that Min Yoongi is standing right in front of you. From the looks of it, he’s already dressed and ready to depart from the train—all robes with his green tie perfectly grazed at his neck, the bright golden HEAD BOY badge displayed proudly right on top of Yoongi’s robe almost as if it were glaring at you or laughing at you instead. It takes a second to gather your bearings, which finds you leaning slightly against the doorframe leading into the compartment.

“Min Yoongi,” You greet.

He cocks up an eyebrow, repeating your name back to you.

“You’re a long ways off from that pit of fire you were created from.”

Yoongi cracks a smile. “Pit of fire—so you think I’m hot?”

You snort at that. “Did I say pit of fire? I meant more of a mixing bowl for the devil, from where I’m assuming he created you.”

The smile slips off Yoongi’s face as he levels you with a glare. “You’re lucky we’re not on school grounds yet and that I’m feeling lenient enough to let you off. But I can’t make those promises when we arrive.”

You roll your eyes. Did he expect you to be grateful about his current and extremely short-lived generous nature?

And yet, Yoongi is not done with his interrogation. “How have you fared with the summer holiday homework?” He inquires next, tilting his head to the side. “Personally, I thought the essay we had to write for Professor Snape was the hardest.” At your momentary gape of silence, Yoongi raises an eyebrow once again. “You did do the homework, right?”

“Yah, of course I did Min Yoongi!” You snap.

“For your sake, I hope you did too,” He replies, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Otherwise I’d have to give you detention a lot sooner than I originally anticipated.”

“Hold your breath,” You retort. “I did the assignments.” You’ve been getting better at lying straight through your teeth, having to master the skill just to avoid certain situations like this with Min Yoongi.

Yoongi seems to yield at that, because he steps back and his eyes don’t look as dark as a few seconds ago—although you cannot recall when they became dark in the first place. “We’ll be arriving at Hogwarts soon,” He reports, eyes flickering down to you attire. “You should get dressed soon.”

“I know we’re arriving soon, I’m not a child, Yoongi,” You hiss.

“Well, from the way you were dressed at the Leaky Caldron, I was beginning to think otherwise—!”

You slam the compartment door right back in his face.

Ronnie and Karly are giving each other a look, a look that shifts as you move from the door frame back into your seat. It seems like there are a whole bunch of questions Ronnie wishes to ask in this situation, but he resorts instead to: “Did you really finish all your homework from the summer holiday?”

You’re halfway through on peeling the jacket off your frame when you give your friend a look of disbelief. “Of course not, that’s what the night before classes start is for.”

As you’re shifting your normal attiring for your Hogwarts robe and ties, you think about the encounter with Yoongi and how his attitude towards you hadn’t been that surprising considering the prior years in which the pair of you have known each other. Yoongi has been integrated into your life since the very first year, in which his attitude towards you always seemed to adopt a pattern of general sass and reporting. As far as you were concerned, you have been at the center of Yoongi’s target from the beginning in which you could never escape his mean remarks or his desire to have justice served in the form of seeing you planted in detention. Nothing much has changed from those earlier years. He still seeks you out and somehow it always ends up with you getting some form of detention and still knows exactly what to say to get you riled up—granted, in the more recent years he’s taken to banters upholding more flirtatious qualms.

But you had refused to put too much thought into it, staying secure on the thought and belief that the things he said and the things he did were made with no intention other than to mark up your permanent record. And for that, you only knew to hate Yoongi more and more and desired nothing but to return the favor of exasperation for him as he had done for you.  

It seems as if it might be a more difficult feat than you originally thought, especially when you walk into the Slytherin common room with your bag of unfinished homework assignment later that evening only to find Yoongi himself situated right in front of the fireplace.

Yoongi turns his attention towards the source of noise, eyebrow raising at the sight of you standing in the common room with a bag slung over your shoulder. He greets you by your name. “Fancy seeing you this evening, Miss Y/N,” He starts, straightening up and out of his chair as you notice he is still in his school attire. “As pleasant as it is to see you, I hope you realize it’s past curfew for students to be out of their beds.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “There are no curfews for students of that limitation.”

“Well, when the school’s Head Boy is part of your House, there’s always a curfew for students to follow.” He tilts his head to the side in mock curiosity, and yet something in his eyes plagues you as it always does—as it always seems like Min Yoongi is one too many steps ahead of you. “Besides, there’s no reason for you to be down here unless you are, perhaps, working on something.”

You shift, gripping the bag of your materials tighter in your grasp. “What would I be working on? There’s no assignments yet.”

“You tell me, Miss Y/N,” Yoongi counters, shifting his standing position so he could lean back on one of his legs. Despite his more casual stance, everything about him reads serious. “Given that you’re not working on anything, I think that you should go back to the rooms and get some sleep. I’m sure you have a whole day of classes, do you not?”

You fingers curl tighter and tighter around the strap of the bag at your shoulder, debating whether knocking Yoongi’s head with your textbooks and parchment paper would do enough to knock him out.

You’re so caught up in the serious consideration of this plan that you fail to notice Yoongi has moved closer to you the tips of both your shoes are touching. “So, class tomorrow?”

You level yourself with Yoongi’s half curious half amused glance before you find yourself caving. “I can’t,” You finally answer.

He raises an eyebrow. “You can’t go to class?”

“No,” You interject, already starting to grow exhausted of the conversation and you wish you spoke the truth earlier on the train if only to avoid this type of confrontation. Or, rather, a part of you wishes that you had just done the assignments when you were supposed to. “No, I mean I can go to class but I can’t go to sleep and I can’t leave the common room.”

“Hm,” Yoongi ponders this as if the question is actually something he has to think about and as if this situation isn’t something he has been hoping for since the encounter on the train. “Why is that?”

“Are you really going to make me spell it out, Min Yoongi?” You growl.

“I think I would appreciate it if you did.”

If your glare could cut, Yoongi would be a dead man. But he’s a dead man with an extremely cocky smile, as if he knows exactly what his questions and observations and general playing dumb is doing to you.

“Fine,” You snap back, holding up the bag for him to see. “Inside this bag is my summer homework assignments, okay? I didn’t get to finish them over the holiday, so I really need this time to get everything done. There, see, that’s the reason why I can’t go up yet. Are you happy?”

He shrugs half-heartedly. “Not really.”

Your glare hardens. “Yah, what do you want from me, Min Yoongi? I told you the truth, I need to do my assignments—are you gonna let me do it or not?”

“See, I could but,” Yoongi starts, taking another step forward and forcing you to take a corresponding step backwards. “Allowing you to do such a thing would defeat the purpose of it being summer homework.”

“Yoongi, let me do the homework,” You grit out between clenched teeth.

Yoongi ponders this for a moment. “Alright then,” He allows, stepping to the side. You, however, barely make it one step before his stupid voice is ringing out again. “Detention, Miss Y/N.”

“Detention?” You echo loudly. “Just because I didn’t do the homework?”

“Honestly?” He starts. “I could care less about the homework. Lying to Head Boy, however, is something I cannot excuse.” He grins, a horrible Cheshire cat smile. “Not that I would want to, anyhow.”

You clench your teeth together, so sure that if something was in between your teeth it would have snapped in half. “You absolute piece of—!”

“Shh,” Yoongi hushes, actually having the nerve to step forward and bring his index finger up so that it hovers over your lips. “Careful, Y/N. I don’t want to have to give you more detention for also swearing in front of your Head Boy.”

You like to think there’s a lot of things you are thinking in this moment. Rather than simply knocking Yoongi to the ground, you ponder locking him outside of the common room or throwing him out the window or feeding him to the magical creatures hidden in the Forbidden Forest. But the fear of having this disagreement drag on further in a way that will waste more time that you could be using on your assignments keeps you at bay.

You keep your mouth shut, which leads to Yoongi delivering another smirk. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it then. Have a good night.”

And with that, he steps back and steps around you, leaving you to only imagine locking him out, throwing him out, or feeding him away—as well as imagine what your first detention of the new school year will be like.

You absolutely hate Min Yoongi.

.

Your first detention of the new school year takes place on an early Saturday morning a few weeks into the new school year, assigned to clean one of the abandoned bathrooms with no help and no magic. Naturally, the smell and the labor and the exhaustion is more than enough to leave you in a bad mood as you find that you are practically seething by the time you make it into the shower. The water washes off the sweat and grime of a day that has started at five in the morning, but does little to take away the irritation that rolls off your body like steam.

Despite starting so early in the morning, by the time you finish with your shower and prepare a bag of assignments to take with you throughout the day—the breakfast is set out in the Great Hall and students from each of the houses have gathered to enjoy the meal.

“Hey—woah,” Karly starts, stopping immediately as if she can see deep enough into your soul to see the fiery depths of your anger. “What’s up with you? What happened?”

You slide into the seat next to your friend, hair still damp and eyes red from the early morning wake-up call. “Shit,” You reply, leaning forward to rest your forehead into the palm of your hand.

“Really?” Karly inquires sympathetically. “Detention must have been rough?”

“No, literally—shit,” You try again. Eyes still closed, you turn to face her. “I had to clean the bathrooms on the third floor.”

Karly’s momentary look of disgust is all she needs to do. “Oh my god, the ones that were closed after Moaning Myrtle clogged a bunch of them?”

“Yes!” You emphasis with a whine, pulling away from your palms and pouting. How could the world be so cruel to assign you such a labor intensive job as punishment? “All because Yoongi is such a stick up the ass about some dumb misunderstanding we had gotten into.”

Karly narrows your eyes. “Didn’t you lie straight to his face?”

“Who’s side are you on?” You snap.

“You’re not mad because it was a misunderstanding,” Karly corrects, pouring more breakfast onto her plate. “You’re mad because Yoongi has a stick up his ass, period. And he does.”

You sigh, easing up on yourself just enough to put some food on your own plate. “Well, you’re not wrong.” You straighten slightly, gaze shifting up and down the Slytherin table. These first minutes of conversation with Karly has been nice, of course, but has also been unusual. Post-detention torture is usually followed up with a sickening smile from the man who assigned you the detention in the first place, followed by a whole bunch of inquiries about the detention session as if he wasn’t the reason for your misery. Post-detention torture is filled with Min Yoongi, which is exactly what your morning is missing.

“He’s not here,” Karly remarks.

You stare at her. “Well, where is he?”

“Not sure,” She replies with a shrug. “He sort of left out that information while we were braiding each other’s hair and sharing our deepest and darkest secrets with one another.”

“You could just said you weren’t sure and left it at that,” You grumble, sending a pointed glare to her cheesy grin. But just as you fix your gaze on Karly, your gaze immediately gravitates towards the entrance to the Great Hall and you see three familiar figures lingering in the frame. Familiar not because of the friendly feelings that the sight fills you with; but familiar because of the reputations that come along with it.

At the frame leading into the Great Hall stands Min Yoongi, Jeon Jungkook, and Kim Taehyung and it appears that they’re still in the middle of joking about something. Min Yoongi and Kim Taehyung are dressed in a casual Saturday attire of a polo, slacks, and the ties showing off their house colors while Jungkook is sporting a Ravenclaw sweater and is balancing his Firebolt atop shoulder.

“They probably just got back from the Ravenclaw Quidditch practice,” Karly voices your own internal observation. She follows your gaze down the hallway to where the boys are conversing; but the sight is enough to get you to turn back to your own meal. “I think Yoongi saw us, he’s looking this way,” Karly continues to comment, although her attention is still heavily diverted at staring quite openly at the three boys.

“Probably thinking about how he could embarrass me in front of Jeon Jungkook again,” You spit out, despite not being affected by the sight of Jungkook. Your little crush on him is ancient news, but the sight of Yoongi and Jungkook together sometimes just brings back memories that are four years old.

Karly actually laughs at that. “I doubt that. He keeps glancing over here. I wonder if he’s wondering how your detention went. Maybe if he knew you had to clean toilets, he’d feel a little guilty.”

“I don’t even think feeling guilty is in his limited range of emotions,” You note, digging a fork into your eggs. But something about her words stick with you for a moment. Although you doubt that Yoongi would ever think to connect guilt to your punishment, you like to think you could do something to level the playing ground. Or, more simply put maybe getting back at him this once would be enough to ease your desire for revenge. “Hm.” You ponder, placing your bag on your lap and immediately digging through the contents. It’s an old bag, something you’ve had packed since the beginning of the year and has since served as a trash can of sorts that you throw a wide variety of items into. You continue your search, mind wandering to your Diagon Alley visit and a corresponding purchase you remember stuffing into your bag.

Karly takes note of your silence long enough to shift her attention back to you. “What are you doing—?” She cuts herself off mid-sentence, eyes widening slightly when she sees the jar you are producing. She starts to laugh. “Oh my fucking god, dude.”

“What?” You inquire, lips starting to quirk up slightly as the weight of the U-No-Poo jar starts to settle more in your lap.

She continues to laugh, rolling her eyes slightly but the smile is still there. Karly isn’t your best friend, your partner in crime, well-equipped in the behavior that has landed you in detention, for nothing. “Well, alright, hand some over.”

Grinning, you pick out two pills of the U-No-Poo and hand it over to Karly. You watch for a moment as she pulls out her wand in order to break down the original structural integrity of the pills, reducing them into crushed particles.

Initially, you had purchased the jar of U-No-Poo from the Wealseys’ Wizard Wheezes shop in Diagon Alley with little intention of doing anything with it. Just the thought of having it filled you with a sense of power—especially considering what it did.

As you wait for Karly to bring you back to Earth, you turn the jar in your palm to read the labels. Basically, U-No-Poo is a product that brings constipation to the taker—not exactly the most pleasant experience for anyone who had the misfortune of ingesting this pill. That’s why you never had a genuine thought of sharing the product with anyone. But that was before Yoongi gave you detention under the prefix of something as stupid as a lie.

Just as you’re slipping the jar back into your bag, Karly holds up her plate that is now devoid of food with the exception of the crushed U-No-Poo pills. With another smile, you grab one of the glasses of water in front of you and dump the crushed remnants into the liquid. You look into the glass, swirling it once or twice before you look back out down the hall. Yoongi is still there with Jungkook and Taehyung.

“If you get caught, Yoongi will totally drag you to hell,” Karly advises, but she’s still smiling and even twists herself a little in the bench to get the best view. It’s almost amazing how neither of you have been caught or questioned, but the Saturday morning crowds for breakfast are never too crazy so it’s more natural for groups to come together and keep to themselves. It’s the perfect atmosphere for trouble.

“With the way he’s been my entire life, it kind of feels like I’m already there,” You retort, grabbing your bag and detaching yourself from the table as you make your way down the stretch of distance towards the end.

Jungkook and Taehyung are at the beginnings of disembarking from the group just as you’re approaching. Taehyung is making his way towards the Hufflepuff table while Jungkook is turning on his heel to exit the Great Hall—probably to take a shower and put down his Firebolt. This leaves Yoongi wide open to conversation, one he immediately invites you to with a quirked eyebrow and a call of your name.

“Heard you finally got your detention,” Yoongi greets, stuffing his hands into his pockets and the distance between you allows you to take in the stance. There’s something almost irritating and unfair about the veins that decorate down his arms and the traitorous lingering of your gaze makes you want to curse yourself. It also makes you want to punch him in the mouth.

“No thanks to you,” You say, still holding the drink to your chest. You try to think about how you want to play this out. “But luckily for you, it wasn’t that bad. Just cleaning. Anything worse and I would have attempted to drive a brick for your head as soon as you walked in.”

Yoongi quirks an eyebrow at the threat. “If a more challenging punishment lets me see the more feisty side of you, I may have to talk to Filch about changing some things around.”

“Why? Because you like seeing me feisty?” You retort, meaning nothing with that kind of question. Although the way Yoongi looks at you afterwards makes you falter.

“Oh, I think I might like seeing you a little bit more than that.”

Your heart stammers in your chest and you want to plummet it into the ground as a result. Yoongi is giving you a familiar challenging look, the type of expression that is encouraging you (daring you) to continue. Rather, you adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder and give him a tight-lipped smile. “Are you going to go sit down and eat?”

If he’s disappointed in your abrupt change of topic, he doesn’t give an indication of that. Rather, he jumps on the new pace of discussion. “Naw, I stopped by just to walk with Taehyung. I actually have a meeting with some professors that I have to get to soon.”

“Hm, you should at least have something in your body,” You note, shuffling forward and tilting the glass of water towards him. “You want some?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Since when do you share?”

You snort. “Are you implying that you think I would be okay with you getting your germs on something I’ve already drank? Of course not. This is a new glass—something originally for me but given that I’ve already eaten, I wouldn’t mind letting you have this.” You don’t leave him with another choice as you step forward and practically shove the glass into his hands. This brings you closer to him, almost able to feel the warmth of his presence, but you pull back. “I have to go to the library.”

You make a beeline to get out of sight, looking over your shoulder just in time to see Yoongi take a sip of the water.

The remainder of the day proceeds normally—you spend a majority of your day in the library working on the first Transfiguration essay of the year as well as studying for your upcoming Care of Magical Creatures exam. Saturdays are filled with the books and the sunlight streaming in through the glass windows of the library, company that eventually takes the form of Ronnie and Karly.

In fact, it’s such a normal Saturday afternoon that you completely forget about the repercussions from the morning until you walk into the Slytherin common room and find Min Yoongi lying on the couch and groaning into the pillow.

“Oh my god,” Ronnie observes immediately, coming up to the edge of the couch where Yoongi’s feet are rested. “What’s up with him?” He lowers his voice, despite the fact that you’re the only individuals in the common room at this time of day. “Yoongi, are you okay?”

When Yoongi doesn’t respond, you tilt your head slightly. “Maybe he’s sleeping on a stomachache.”

“Maybe he ate something,” Ronnie supplies.

“Or drank something,” Karly includes with a playful wiggle of her eyebrows.

You scoff to hide a laugh. “Karly, no.”

“Uh, Karly yes,” Ronnie interjects, leaning over so that he can catch a better glimpse of the two of you. “What did you do? Poison him?”

“No!” You hiss.

“You might as well have,” Karly adds with a shrug, before turning to Ronnie. “She slipped U-No-Poo into his water.”

“Detention, Miss. Y/N!” Yoongi crows, sitting straight up on the couch as the sudden movement drags a scream out of the remaining three of you. It seems, however, that the action has prompted too much movement for a sickening Yoongi, because he falls back against the couch with a groan. “It was you! I knew that water had to be spiked with something—I’ve been feeling like shit ever since then.”

“Oh my god, keep it in Min Yoongi,” You retort, lips edging into a smile as you round the couch in order to hover near his head. “Not that you have a choice, anyway.”

Without a warning, Yoongi reaches out to grab the collar of your shirt and pulls you down. On instinct, your hands come up to land right on his chest. The arms distance away from him is more than enough to provide a separation between the two of you, and yet you can still feel the warmth of his body through his shirt and you can see the glint in his eyes.

Even though he’s upside down in your field of vision, it’s hard to miss the glint and the weight of his finger pulling at your collar. “Detention for a week, Miss. Y/N,” He grumbles and you almost forget to feel angry over the tripping of your heart.

.

Following a week’s worth of different detentions that consist of a wide range of different activities like polishing the silverware to sweeping the entire school grounds last into the night with the only company taking the form of airy ghosts, to cleaning the glass windows and venturing into the Forbidden Forest for unicorn blood. All these things have contributed higher and higher to your exhaustion and your increasing desire to keep counteracting Yoongi’s detention punishments with your own form of payback.

This mostly takes the form of Karly meeting up with you in the Slytherin common room on a Tuesday morning to begin descending towards the ground floor for your morning classes. “Are you good?” Karly inquires after a moment, shouldering her bag and directing you with a stare. “Like sanity-wise? You good? A week’s worth of detention seems like more than enough to drive anyone crazy.”

“I’m okay,” You answer, although the distant soreness in your legs and arms tells another story. “Sore, though. And filled with a desire to kill Min Yoongi.”

Karly nods. “The usual response.”

“I mean, what’s up with him?” You grumble as the pair of you enter your Charms class. Given that you and Karly do not sit together, you continue to linger near the doorframe in order to keep the conversation going. “I always figured that slipping U-No-Poo into water would have earned like a day’s worth of detention, not a week. Who gives people a week’s detention, anyways?”

“Like I said,” Karly supplies with a shrug of her shoulders. “He’s got his eye on you. Like, really has his eyes on you.”

“Shut up,” You snap back, flashing back to the conversation the pair of you had in the Leaky Cauldron all that time ago and suddenly feeling nauseous.

Karly’s laugh leaves little hope that she’s just fucking around to make you nervous. Instead, you choose to ignore her as you turn away and enter deeper into the classroom. The space between you and Karly is mainly emphasised by another desk and a row—a desk taken by Hufflepuff Jung Hoseok, someone whose connection with Min Yoongi is something you don’t really bat an eye to. At least, in comparison to the other boys and their relationship with Yoongi. More often than not, when it came to Jung Hoseok, he wasn’t really one to rat someone out.

Apparently, the day is counting on that because as soon as you settle in your seat and take in topic of the upcoming lecture, Hoseok is sliding a paper onto your desk. He gives you a head tilt towards Karly’s direction when you give him a pair of inquiring eyes, allowing you to lean forward just enough to catch aforementioned friends eye. She quirks an eyebrow, turning back to face the front.

You do the same, flickering towards the blackboard and mountain of books that Professor Flitwick stands atop of. He’s providing an introduction of a Gripping Charm, which is always about as interesting as one would think when learning about a spell but being unable to start practical application. The slow-moving pace of the day allows you to take the time and unfold the paper from Karly.

Look up, guess who’s watching you again

Eyebrows furrowing, you look at Karly again. She’s must feel the weight of your gaze because she quirks her head just enough to give you a look. You return it, holding the note a little higher to inquire about it without actually inquiring about it. She smiles a little, tilting her head a little towards the front of the room. Clueless, your eyes follow her line of sight and you’re not entirely sure why you feel your heart trip slightly when your gaze meets one Min Yoongi, who has turned slightly in his chair a few rows ahead of you just to watch you in your seat.

After a moment of this stare-down, Yoongi shift his gaze down to your desk before moving back up to your face. He knows you’re passing notes—well, not that you and Karly ever tried to be extremely subtle about your actions.

You press your lips together. Maintaining eye-contact, you take the parchment Karly had given to you and your quill and begin writing something down.

Min Yoongi is a poop head

Looking back up, you find Yoongi is still staring at you. His eyes have hardened slightly, challenging you to follow through on something that will most definitely get you in trouble. You don’t care. You turn to Hoseok, to which he takes the note and mindlessly hands it to Karly before—!

Yoongi straightens up out of his seat, darting towards the row separating you and Karly in order to snatch the note out of Hoseok’s hands. Yoongi gives Hoseok a look, one that Hoseok returns with amusement to showcase how little fucks Hoseok has in contributing to less-than-perfect behavior, for it’s in his nature and part of his charm. But of course, Yoongi overlooks Hoseok in the long run to feed you a look.

You tilt your head down slightly in a nod, lifting your palm up towards him in an inviting gesture. It’s a gesture to read the note you have so graciously written with the knowledge that he would see it and read it.

“Mr. Min, is something wrong?” Professor Flitwick inquires from the front of the classroom.

Yoongi doesn’t answer him at first, instead taking the time to open the note. His gaze takes in the note written across the parchment, silent for a moment before he lowers his arm and slips the note into the back pocket of his slacks. “Nothing, Professor,” Yoongi says after a moment. “I just want Miss. Y/N to know publicly that she just earned herself another detention.”

The statement is followed with a sound quieter than silence, one that envelops the entire room and leaves everyone shocked. Not over the fact that you have just garnered another detention under your belt, but because Yoongi had to announce it in front of everyone.

You, however, are not included in this pool of surprise. Rather, you raise your eyebrows and wear a more amused expression. “Never expected anything less from you, Mr. Min.” And really, you hadn’t. Judging from the slight tint across Yoongi’s cheeks, it seems obvious to believe that he had read the entirety of the note—including Karly’s observation about who had been watching you. His hesitancy to give you detention at the expense of his wandering eyes seems like a slight crack in his otherwise uptight facade and you think you might run with that.

.

The library during the first wave of exam season is always a wild mix of exhaustion—filled with all different types of students just collectively coming together to conquer a singularity goal: pass. With the looming mountain of tests and assignments and essays hovering over everyone, it’s normal to walk through the halls of the library and see students either laughing over the tipping of their sanity, beady eyed trying to get their fifth essay done, or students who have just given up entirely and spend time whispering amongst their friends.

You find yourself drawn between the second and third option, given that you are trying to write your third essay on Magical Creatures while also joking around with Ronnie and Karly.

“Ah, shit,” You grumble, looking over the requirements for your next essay for Transfiguration and realizing you don’t have any of that information in any of the notes (or lack thereof) you’ve taken throughout the lectures. You straighten slightly, tucking your quill, ink, and parchment under your arm. “Alright, I’m gonna go find that Transfiguration textbook. I’ll be right back.”

Karly and Ronnie wave you away as their own form of goodbye, too distracted with their own little game of Wizard’s Chest to process the whole reason for your departure. But you ignore that, slipping into the main hall of the library. You’re too busy overlooking the requirements of the essay and what you’ll have to look for when you locate the Transfiguration aisle of the library that you don’t notice someone equally as distracted walking towards you until you crash into them and feel something like cold, wet ink spraying everywhere.

“Oh—fuck!”

“Ow!”

You look up from your assignments, taking in the sight of Min Yoongi right in front of you. The blackness biting at his shirt and your own makes you realize that that ‘like cold, wet ink’ actually has been cold, wet ink that is now all over your shirt, all over Yoongi’s shirt, and all over the pile of whatever Yoongi had been holding before the collision.

The sight of Yoongi drenched in ink makes you inwardly groan, wondering what the punishment would be since you figure Yoongi would serve you detention under the pretense that you had purposely tried to sabotage his day. “Sorry Min Yoongi,” You speak first. “What’s the damage for this, since I clearly went out of my way to direct an entire bottle of ink on your chest.”

Yoongi stares at you for a long hard minute, but it’s missing that usual glint of scouting out for trouble. Instead, he’s looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“Just wash our clothes and we’ll call it even,” He grumbles before he brushes past you and continues down the hall, leaving you with your own ink-splattered shirt and a forgotten Transfiguration essay tucked under your arm.

However, in retrospect, having Yoongi entrust you to wash his uniform hadn’t been the smartest decision on his part. Mainly because you still hate him, and you suppose that getting detention would have been a better bargain for him considering that getting detention would avoid letting you get tangled with any of his personal belongings.

You do not know why he doesn’t hand out the punishment, but you want to make sure that he regrets this. You wash the shirt and robe perfectly, just to give this opportunity a fighting chance. You take his green tie, however, and steady it just as you take your quill between your hands once more. With a bottle of that really serious ink—the kind that is almost oil-based in the sense that it is nearly impossible to remove—you dip the quill in and start writing—!

“POOP HEAD?” Min Yoongi’s voice roars through the nearly empty Slytherin common room, earning a noiseless laugh to spread across your lips as your body lurches with the force of your amusement. You should be able to endure the loud kind of laughter that this kind of oncoming prank deserves, given that you are the only person in the common room at this hour on a Thursday. You’re skipping your Astronomy lecture for this, but it’s worth it.

You stay in silence, however, allowing yourself to hear the grumbling curses from Yoongi—talk of what he’s going to do when he finds you and how he’s going to make you buy him a new tie and all that jazz before—!

“Oh.” Yoongi stops at the sight of you leaning against the back of the chair; you, arms crossed and the highest of amusement dancing in your eyes.

“Something wrong, Min Yoongi?” You inquire, although it’s hard not to notice the giant POOP HEAD wording, followed by an arrow pointing upwards towards his face across his green tie. “Nice tie.”

Yoongi grips the fabric a little tighter in his hands, approaching you. “Look at this shit!” He retorts after a moment. “What kind of fucking ink did you use with this? It doesn’t come off, I swear to god Y/N—look at this! What am I supposed to do, walk into class with this? I’m the Head Boy—!”

“Well, I think,” You start, interrupting him as you start forward. Yoongi goes silent, watching as you make your way towards him. “I think the tie looks great.” Playing around a little, a corner of your lips quirk up at the sight of Yoongi looking increasingly frazzled to see you walking closer and closer to him. “I think the color of it really brings out your eyes.” To take things up to an extreme, you take the tie in between your fingers, tugging him closer to you. “Are you sure there’s really a problem to this?”

“I…” Yoongi starts, trailing off the longer his eyes are trained across the expanse of your face: from your eyes to your mouth. It looks like he wants to say something, like he’s dying to say something, but the words are lodged in his throat. You wonder when the last time Yoongi had been in such close proximity to a girl. With all his responsibilities as Head Boy and confiscating dung bombs from fourth years, you assume it must be hard to fit in simple and mundane things like flirting with girls and taking them out on dates or just having a casual conversation with them generally. Although the rest of his friends (especially Jeon Jungkook) have had their fair share of girlfriends, Yoongi always stayed out of the picture.

You never questioned it, sure that Yoongi spent more time terrorizing away girls rather than dating them, and the way he’s looking at you as if you’re growing spikes on your face makes you think that perhaps he’s just scared of you.

He’s standing so close to you at this point that you can feel the warmth of his body traveling towards you and there’s something almost comforting about it. He smells really good too. You wonder what kind of shampoo and soap they offer in the Prefect bathrooms where he probably goes to every night.

“You know what color I’m really thinking represents you?” You inquire, still playing with his tie. When Yoongi doesn’t say anything, you lean so close that your breath tickets his cheek. His breath hitches. “Brown.”

Yoongi nearly pushes you away, scowling at your color description in relation to the statement on his tie.

You laugh. “What’s wrong, Min Yoongi? Was that too much for you? Are you gonna give me detention now for fucking up your tie?”

He thinks about it for a moment before he untangles the tie from around his neck and bunches it in his hand. “I will just buy a new one at Hogsmeade later,” He reports quietly, mostly to himself before turning around and making his way up the stairs.

You watch him leave.

.

February means snow and chill and lovey dovey emotion that can only be felt in the air—for February also means flowers and chocolate and confessions. But to you, February means the most number of detentions, twelve in a row so far and you still reportedly have three more to go.

When you thought the previous two incidents and encounters with Yoongi might have softened him up, it seems as if fucking up his tie had been the wrong card to pull because if he had been hawkeyed on you before, now he’s just unfair.

Your uniform with just a tie out of place? Detention.

Showing up late by five minutes to a lecture simply because there was a line to the restroom? Detention.

In fact, things you’ve done within the past few weeks that have earned you another detention are as listed: whispering in the library, tapping your quill once on the desk, not walking fast enough in the halls, turning in homework with handwriting a little too sloppy—the list goes on. You would be annoyed if you weren’t so exhausted. Twelve detentions in a row is a lot to ask of someone.

Your exhaustion turns into the loss of sanity, until Professor McGonagall calls you into her office and you walk in to find Min Yoongi seated in front of her desk.

You stop short. “Uh, what’s this?” You inquire, gesturing between Professor McGonagall and Min Yoongi. “Is this because of the comment I made against cats in Yoongi’s write-up? That was just a joke, I promise. Am I getting expelled? Because if that comment against the cats is enough to warrant this kind of punishment then I should let you know that Yoongi has been up my ass—!”

Professor McGonagall interrupts you with a shrill call of your name. “Miss. Y/N, please mind your language—why don’t you put your butt on the seat instead of your foot in your mouth.” As you lower yourself slowly into the other chair opposite of her, she speaks again. “And for the record, Miss. Y/N, I had no idea about the comment you made against cats.”

You grit your teeth slightly, berating yourself for saying such a thing. Yoongi presses his lips together to hide his smile, and you kick him in the shin.

Just as Yoongi parts his lips in a silent ring of pain, you speak. “So, Professor McGonagall,” You start loudly. “What seems to be the issue?”

“Well, it has come to my attention that Mr. Min has been giving you a lot of detentions since the start of the school year,” Professor McGonagall notes. “An excessive amount, for that matter. Not that we have anything in our policy that goes against too much detention. In fact, Miss. Y/N—you are scheduled for another detention on February 14th, is that correct?”

“Uh—I assume so,” You reply, sparing a glance towards Yoongi. It’s not like Yoongi pencils you in for detentions whenever it’s convenient for you. He doesn’t even run the detentions for you himself, it’s always Mr. Flich, who has looked increasingly and increasingly more exasperated especially when you know he’s running out of things around the castle for you to do. “Yoongi doesn’t really… tell me anything after telling me I have detention…”

Yoongi looks like he wants to speak up, but he is quickly shot down by Professor McGonagall. “Mr. Min, I just need to let you know that no one will be able to run the detention for Miss. Y/N on February 14th so I will leave you in charge for that day.”

Both of you straighten up at that.

“What?”

“Wait, no.”

“Why?”

“I would rather bathe myself in any river in the Forbidden Forest past midnight and get eaten by a lion.”

“Okay, Y/N, first of all, there are no lions in the Forbidden Forest.”

“How do you know that? There’s no way not to know that. The Forbidden Forest is forbidden to students. What did you do? Sneak in with your idiot friends one time?”

“Kim Namjoon is not an idiot—!”

Your eyes widen and point a finger at Yoongi. “PROFESSOR.”

“Okay, enough you two,” Professor McGonagall interrupts, rubbing at her temples and you wonder if she’s held off on talking to the two of you for so long for this very  reason only. It’s why your normal interactions with Min Yoongi were so short if you could help it. “This is not up for debate. Mr. Min, you are running Miss. Y/N’s detention. As Head Boy, it’s one of your responsibilities. Own up to it. Both of you are dismissed.”

Yoongi sighs, looks like he wants to argue more, but he detaches himself from the seat and makes his way towards the door frame exiting Professor McGonagall’s office. This leaves you little choice but to do the same.

Yoongi is still outside in the hallway by the time you exit. “You could still cancel my detention if you want,” You supply, hands in the pocket of your skirt. “I’m sure you have plans on February 14th that I would hate to intercept with.”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi grumbles. “Meet me in the detention chamber.”

“Bring some candles, Min Yoongi!” You call teasingly.

.

Min Yoongi is unsuspiciously moody on February 14th when you enter the confines of the detention chamber. He’s facing the blackboard and looks to be deep in thought. That thought, however, is crossed out when he grumbles something as soon as your footsteps sound through the chamber. “You’re late.”

“I got lost,” You lie.

“Shut up.” Yoongi whirls around, sneering. “You’ve been down here plenty of times—in fact, you were here just last week. Got lost, my ass.”

“Oh is that what I said? I meant I didn’t want to come here.”

He groans, running a hand through his hair. “Just sit down.” He gestures to the empty desk right in front of him. You slide into the seat, your bag slipping to the floor as your fold your hands atop each other and gazing up at Yoongi. “You’re gonna write lines today.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Wow, lines. That’s exciting. Just so original, oh wow.”

“When you only have two days to plan two hours worth of detention, there are limited options,” Yoongi supplies, taping his piece of chalk against his chin. “So you’re gonna spend two hours writing this.” He turns back to the blackboard, bringing the chalk up to the surface and—!

I AM AN IDIOT WHO CONSTANTLY NEGLECTS MIN YOONGI’S WORD OF AUTHORITY AND HENCEFORTH, I DESERVE EVERY SINGLE PUNISHMENT THAT HAS EVER BEEN HANDED TO ME EVER.

You sigh, reaching into your bag and producing a parchment and quill. “Charming with words as ever, Min Yoongi.”

He shrugs, leaning against the desk at the front. “I try.”

The full vantage of his profile allows you to scope a good glance over his uniform for the day. Polo shirt and slacks, still no tie—but the sleeves of his shirt have been pulled up to his elbow and his teeny waist showcased in his slacks. It’s not just distracting, it’s unfair entirely.

You get through about half of your first line before you put your quill down. “So, Min Yoongi,” You start.

“Do your lines.”

You ignore him. “If you didn’t have to run my detention for the day, what plans would have awaited the great Head Boy of our beloved school?”

“None of your business,” He grumbles.

“Because I am sure someone as… compelled as you are,” You start, purposely pausing when coming up with an adjective to describe Yoongi and the one you select makes him scowl harder. “Would have no trouble conjuring up an activity on Valentine’s Day.”

“Like I said, it’s none of your business.”

“Well, there’s a lot of things that you shouldn’t stick your nose in either,” You retort. “And yet here I am, probably servicing my one hundredth detention because you read my personal notes.”

“You were passing notes in class!”

“Passing personal notes in class,” You emphasis. “And it’s none of your business and yet I still had my privacy invaded so that excuse does not work on me, Min Yoongi.” You push yourself off the desk despite Yoongi’s noise of protest. “I couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t protest much or if at all to Professor McGonagall assigning you to watch over me for detention.”

“So?”

“So, is that because you don’t have any plans at all for Valentine’s Day?” You’re standing right in front of him now.

“Miss. Y/N, if I were you, I’d shut my mouth and write my lines.”

His defensive nature makes you quirk the corner of your lips. “Oh my god.” You’re grinning now. “Did you not have anyone to celebrate with?”

Yoongi’s gradually stiffening frame as you on the brick of laughter. “Shut up.”

“Not even a crush? No one to spare a confession for? That’s kind of sad.”

“Oh like you’re so high and mighty about this—do you have someone to celebrate with?”

“No,” You reply with a shrug. “And I don’t care too much. You care though, don’t you?”

“I don’t,” He retorts, but it’s a weak argument and you can hear the waver in his tone.

“You do like someone, don’t you?” You inquire, smirking a little. “What is that like? What is the girl like? Why won’t you say anything to her, Min Yoongi? You may be emotionally constipated but you should know how to process constipation by now right? Seven years and no girlfriend; doesn’t that bother you in the slightest? Why waste time with me when you could—!”

The rest seems like such a blur, because you are interrupted when Yoongi darts forward, one hand around your waist and the other curling fingers around the back of your neck, before he is kissing you. Your lower back hits the edge of the desk, a pain that you don’t register anymore as you find yourself completely distracted by the feel of his lips—which are a lot softer than you thought they would have been. Immediately, the sensation feels as if it has springboarded you through the galaxy above, his lips moving against yours and dragging out these whimpers that sound from the back of your throat.

Suddenly, it feels like you can’t get enough of him as your nails dig into his arms, his shoulder blade. His anger seems to subside the longer he kisses you, going from using his teeth to soothing the burn from his tongue, a gesture that sends a shiver up your spine.

The hand at your back finds its way under the material of your polo shirt, his thumb rubbing softly at the skin of your back as the pair of you separate. Your lungs feel like they’re about to burst, so the frantic beating of your heartbeat means you don’t think twice about resting your forehead against Yoongi’s. “Do you do that to all the girls who yell at you?”

Yoongi sighs like he’s waited years for this. “Just the ones whose attention I feel like I would lose unless I granted her with detention every two point five seconds.”

“So you aren’t entirely a stick in the mud,” You observe, almost losing your train of thought with the way Yoongi is tracing patterns into your back again. “You did have plans for Valentine’s Day.”

“Well, it was more along the lines of how I had plans to find you after your detention and get another fight out of you,” Yoongi starts, corner of his lips turning up into a meek smile. “So this is obviously a step up.”

“Aw,” You coo. “You really are emotionally constipated—I’m sure there would have been much better ways of expressing your emotions.”

He shrugs. “Just for the girl who was about to write sixty lines about how much of an idiot she is.”

“For your information, I only got through half of a line. What if I don’t want to write sixty?” You challenge, lifting your chin slightly towards him.

Yoongi hums, readjusting his hold around your waist so his nails are digging into your bare skin. You are too high on possibility to notice the potential bruising. “I’ll convince you,” He whispers, lowering himself closer and closer until he seals his lips with yours. A promise, and a challenge—as it always should be.

#bangtan bookclub #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenario #yoongi x you #min yoongi scenario #yoongi fluff #bts scenario #bts x reader #bts fluff #traci writes #hp reputation series

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 88

[Trigger warnings for this chapter: continued humiliation and degradation, continued loss of consent in the way of being forced to do things, K glamours another woman into having continued sex with him, INY under orders and duress glamours said woman into feeling things.]

A week into the second month, the Master gave you some time to think alone. He left for the day. He ordered you to lie down on the couch and not move. It was a nice reprieve from standing in the corner. Your muscles and joints certainly approved. After the incident, he’d come to realize your healing factor for what it was. It wasn’t like he’d apologized for slamming your head on a counter, or hypnotizing your friend Bruce, or any of it- 

But he at least had been curious and pleased to see you’d healed up so nicely, and so quickly. For the first time he’d allowed you a change of clothes. A shower first, finally, where you’d completely broken down after he’d left you alone in water that was just a touch too hot. Then after your little moment you’d actually cleaned yourself up completely. He complimented this with a lovely (as he put it) summery dress that would do just nicely. 

Then he’d told you to lie down and not move. And then left for almost the whole day.

Your thoughts drifted, as they always did, to Tony. His press conference had, in the moment, allowed you a lot of room for weakness. You’d shown a side to the Master that you wished you’d hadn’t. Weakness. One that he’d curbed pretty quickly anyway, but weakness shouldn’t have been tolerated. 

It was good that he’d sent Bruce away. It was good that he’d told Bruce to tell Tony you weren’t there. Because there was less likelihood of the Master capturing their minds as well and putting them through this hell. Or worse ones. It was good that Tony had taken control of the press and told them things were fine. 

Of course he didn’t think they were. And of course he wasn’t giving up on you. It was a ruse. It was just to keep the media out of his way so he could continue the search. But you had to get out of here before then. Tony could not be allowed to be put under someone else’s control.

And that made you think. To a time further back. ...how long had it been, that Tony had been kidnapped? Not like this. Not like this at all. Your struggles were nothing compared to what he’d gone through. You didn’t have a hole in your chest. You weren’t in the middle of a power struggle, or in the shadow of someone you thought was your friend. 

This was a random, terrible incident, this man that had captured you. And while his torture was mostly emotional and mental… Tony had been kidnapped once too. And Tony had fought until he’d broken free. You could do that, too. 

Couldn’t you?

That night, after the sun had set, the Master returned home. As the front door opened, you heard a second voice joining his. The starry laugh of a woman. As the lights came on and they ventured further in, you looked up to see her. Some pretty young thing. Black hair in a short cut, green eyes that were dulled with a familiar sense of fog. Under his control. She had on bright pink lipstick, a short dress. Looked like she’d been out having a good time- 

Until the unfortunate happened. Just like it had to you. Just like it had to everyone that had come across this man’s path. 

“Pup, this is Melanie.” He pulled her closer with his arm around her shoulder. “She and I are going upstairs. Would you like to join us?” 

The thought revolted you immediately, in several different ways. You would never give yourself to this man in that way. Never. His physical abuse you could take, the mental torture you could take. But that…? On top of it- to think he wanted you in bed with him with someone who had no consent in the matter- 

“No.” Your disgust might have come across too strong. He looked immediately displeased. 

“Your loss.” His eyes narrowed. “Go stand in your corner, then.” Couch privileges revoked. 

You did what you were told. Stood there, as he pulled her upstairs. And then you covered your ears, because he hadn’t told you you couldn’t move. And you felt yourself crying, too. Not for yourself. For this poor girl. 

Melanie. You had to get her out of here. Maybe she’d be lucky. Maybe she’d be a simple plaything, something he discarded after tonight. 

But as the morning dawned and they came downstairs, he told her to sit in a chair, so she did. Then he ordered you out of your corner, so you went to them. Her eyes were completely empty then, but a smile was plastered on her face. No doubt put there by him. 

“Make me tea.” The usual. So you did. 

You expected a breakfast order to come after, but none did. Instead the three of you shared a silence until the kettle whistled and you finished serving him a steaming mug. Then he put down his day-old newspaper and looked up at you. 

“Pup, I have something very important I need you to do for me. Sit down.” So you did. “Listen very carefully.” So you did that, too. “Now, I want you to tell me what Melanie is feeling.” 

The moment was here. The moment you’d always sort of thought might come, but that you hoped wouldn’t. He was going to try and force you to use your powers. And for… that? 

But you had no choice. What was Melanie feeling? 

You focused. Because you were being forced to. Looking at her, you just gave a gentle probe. Surface level. Trying not to violate her more than she already was. But… “I don’t- ...there’s nothing there.” Looking at her as she was sitting there in front of you, it was like an empty shell of a person. Nothing there. 

You sensed his displeasure. “Try again. Try harder.” 

So you had no choice. You let your own vision cloud over as you dropped into the bright space. And then you saw her. Atop dead water. No ripples. No anything. Like she wasn’t alive at all. But as you ventured closer, you saw this thin veneer of purple. Covering her like shrink-wrap. Suffocating her. And just beyond it, as you laid your hands on her, you felt her struggling. 

“She’s terrified.” The words left you without your permission, an echo somewhere above you as you studied her still. 

“Hm.” He gave pause to think for a moment. “...is she aware of what’s going on?” 

You pressed. Trying to sink your hands into her, like you had those rare few times before. Could you wrestle back control for her? Was that your place? But whatever was covering her was like sticky film. It clung to your hands. And then seemed to burn you, so much so that you yanked back, and snapped into reality. “Somewhere. Some part of her knows. But she’s really just gone right now.” 

Another soft hum escaped him and he turned his attention towards the poor girl. Stared at her. Thought long and hard about, perhaps, the consequences of all this. Maybe of all his victims. ...wishful thinking, on your part. “How does that work- how do you know that?” 

“It’s just part of what I can do. I can get a surface level sense for someone, prod them into feeling small things. Or I can go deeper. And-”

“Take control?” 

“No.” 

“Don’t lie to me.” 

“...I’ve only ever done it a couple times.” 

He rewarded your forced honesty with a pat of his hand on your shoulder. “I thought so. Like I said when we met. A pup. Can you command her? The way that I do?” 

Already you felt your head shaking. “I don’t think so. She’s- whatever you’re doing- however you’re doing it- you have full control. I can’t reach her.” 

The corner of his mouth quirked in one of those sadistic grins. “That’s very interesting. I like that.” You didn’t. But that somehow wasn’t the end of it. “You can’t command her… but you’re not very good at it. What about making her feel. Can you do that?” You looked at him, your own sense of terror starting to blossom. 

“I don’t know.” 

But that couldn’t be the end of it. Not for him. You weren’t just a pet now, you were an experiment. “Do it. Why don’t you calm her down? Make her… happy to be here.” 

“No-” Already your struggles started. This woman was suffering enough. You didn’t want to- you couldn’t- 

“I said do it.” His ire started rumbling. He really disliked it when you disobeyed him. He still somehow didn’t have complete control over you, and he really just didn’t like that. 

Still you struggled, eyes closing tight. You felt the wires of his control sinking into your consciousness. “No-” 

You sat there shivering. For a long moment. Maybe he was going to give up? Finally, he sighed. “You know… you and I, we’re always fighting. You have yet to see things my way. Let me help you. Melanie- go get a kitchen knife.” Her chair scraped the floor as she stood suddenly and horror took you then. She searched in the drawers until she found a sharp, shiny steak knife. “Press it against your neck-”

“Stop!” Begging him. But when he just stared at her, and the ridges of the knife caught her tender skin, drops of blood welling, you begged harder. “Stop, please! I’ll do it- I’ll do it…” 

“If you’d just listen to me earlier- Melanie stop. Put that down. Come here. Anyway, like I was saying. If you’d just listen and stop resisting, this could all go a lot faster. Things could be better. Why don’t you get that yet?” 

Defeat sunk its claws into you then. Feeling another touch of darkness swirl inside you. Another piece of you just break off in a chunk and drift far away from you. You hadn’t been created in a lab. Your powers hadn’t stemmed from an experiment. But now they were being used that way. Tested like a little lab rat. 

When Melanie sat, you reached over to her, putting your hand atop hers. Her dead gaze drifted to you. 

I’m sorry. 

The only thing you hoped to impart to her. You were. You were intensely, terribly sorry. Fogging over again, you reached out to her in that space, not putting your hands on her to control her- but instead spreading them out over the water she stood atop. Reigniting the ripples. 

Thinking of a happiest memory… happiest memory… 

“Tony-” “I know I love you-” “Just read your cards.” “You know, that’s a great color on you.”

The first time it had been real. The first time you and Tony had been honest and open with each other- together. The first time you’d kissed him. The moment that had ignited this path… you loved him. And you missed him. And nothing made you happier than the thought of being with him. In that moment. The one that started it all. 

The water beneath her shifted and started as tears dropped from your cheeks. Starting the ripples for her, in a weird reverse motion. I love you… 

“Because I was just thinking we could do the thing where I kiss you and spin in a circle.” “It sounds absolutely stupid when you put it that way.” “My point exactly.” “Do it anyway, please.”

Little moments that sparked your joy, that put a flutter in your heart. Soft pinks, purples- pastel blues and silvers, reds and golds… reminders of what you’d lost… touched up along her ankles. And back up top, you felt warmth emanate from her. 

“I love you.” “I love you, too.” “I feel like you’re trying to tell me something.” I need you.

You’d imparted to her such an intimate feeling of your life. A happiness that no one else could truly ever hold. A love like you’d never experienced, and never would again. You gave these things to her. And as your awareness blinked into existence again, you caught the shine of her smile, the wetness in her eyes. 

“Tell me-” The master was leaned over in wonderment watching this all unfold. “Melanie, answer me honestly- how do you feel right now?” 

“I’m so… happy- like… being on a cloud…” 

“You are?” 

“Yes and- I think- I love you-” 

It was like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over you. In your weakness, your idiocy, your intense feelings for Tony, the ones that made you happy- you’d now warped her sense of self. 

The master slammed his hands on the table. “You do? That’s utterly fascinating.” He put a squeezing hand on your shoulder. “That’s- amazing- job well done, pup.” 

Melanie became his new favorite plaything. Because she was genuinely happy to be with him. Perhaps a feeling he’d never experienced before. But she wasn’t, was she? Could you do that to a person? Just warp them forever? They spent too much time together. Upstairs. And you, in your corner. Ordered there after you were no longer necessary. Worn down. Shaken. Drained entirely now. Your body gave up after the next week- when he’d forgotten your needs. He’d come downstairs arm in arm with Melanie, order you to make him tea, and then send you back to the corner. No food. No water. 

It was when your knees went weak one night and you collapsed that Melanie raised the alarm. Asked if she could take care of you. “Yes, of course. I’ve ordered some takeaway, I’ll go get it. When I get home, make sure she’s on her feet again. Pup, let her take care of you.” 

He couldn’t let you die, just in case. Just in case he wanted even more Melanies to play with. He wanted to use you, over and over. But he couldn’t be bothered to keep you pristine anymore. That hadn’t been working out for him anyway. Keeping you like this- aching, dull, just inches from closing your eyes and perhaps never opening them again- that was the way he got you to do what he wanted. 

When he left, you heard the soft pitter-patter of her footsteps. The caring caress of her hand in your hair. “Hey… are you going to be okay?” 

Now or never. Whatever fire you had left struck at her, reaching up to lock her wrist in an iron grip. She attempted to pull back, but you kept her there somehow. And in that space between you, you stepped over the fabricated ripples of happiness and attraction and false love, cracking them like glass, and put your hands on her. That film clung to you, turning you purple. 

It hissed and writhed and then bit into you, snaking its way into your veins. But you fought. You fought for her. Because she didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve this. 

Looking into her eyes- twice over- you told her- “Run away from here. Go. Be free. Don’t listen to him anymore. Just run. Forget me. Forget all of this. Just go. Go far away.” One more squeeze, your hands at her shoulders, and the film turned brittle and then shattered. 

A deep fear followed, turning the water around the both of you black, and you sunk down into it. Gasping for air as she drowned you in the wake of her realization. But still somehow helpless- she dropped you to the floor, and then went to the back door in the kitchen and fled. 

For a moment you thought you might just close your eyes. Just lie there. Shrivel up and die. 

The light was fading fast. You had no energy left. 

But the door was open. And you’d only been ordered to let Melanie take care of you. Melanie had- and now she was gone- 

So you struggled, crawling on your forearms, pushing yourself to stand just as you reached the kitchen. Holding yourself at the table, and then fell into the counter, clutching it, reaching- 

The front door opened. 

Fear put a bolt through you so hard that the illusion broke completely. You were free, you just had to run. 

Without a word you took off in a sprint, out the back, through the fence, running barefoot- wild- like an animal- heart pounding a million miles a minute- yet even faster than that when you heard him roar. “PUP. GET BACK HERE NOW!” But you didn’t. You kept running. And running. And running. How was the street so deserted? Didn’t matter. You couldn’t ask anyone for help. He’d just take them. You fell into a telephone pole, a wheezing mess. Hearing him still shouting- and then commanding people to get back in their houses. He wasn’t going to give up. He was going to find you, and then you’d really pay for this. 

Just around the corner you saw the half shell of a telephone box. And you pushed yourself to go there next. You couldn’t risk- you couldn’t call Tony- could you? You’d spend so much time wondering- 

Your hands shook as you picked up the receiver and blessedly a dial tone greeted you. But calling Tony- Shivering you pushed in past the dial tone to your security protocol server. Easy to remember. Not like all those fucking numbers and- “PUP.” 

He was getting closer. 1-800-CALL-LUNA It rang. Once. Input code. 4-6-9 Not even half of another ring. “Ma’am I’m honing in on your beacon-” “Send me a suit-” You realized you were crying then, the sound of your voice torn to pieces in weeping. “Please LUNA send me a suit- not Tony- please-” 

You could fight him off. You could get away if it was just you. 

“Come here, pup. You’ve been very bad.” 

He was about thirty feet behind you. You couldn’t stay there. So you hung up the phone and took off down the block. Close enough to the booth that she would be able to detect you- or JARVIS- either of them. If they just sent a suit like you asked- 

Your legs gave out at the end of the line. Looking up into the darkness of a park waiting on the other side. Maybe you could disappear there- 

“Pup.” He was at the end of the block. Streetlights hanging over him. And you saw the red of his eyes again. This was it. He was going to take you. There was no getting away from this. Inevitable. Maybe you should just lie down and die. It would just be easier than all this- 

The fire of jets above pulled you to your feet. No. FIGHT. You had to FIGHT. You weren’t meant to die here. You weren’t meant to be under this man’s control- 

But it wasn’t your suit that dropped just behind you- it was Tony. You were sure you’d never felt such an agonizing, crippling fear in all your life. “Honey-” His voice echoed out. “LEAVE-” 

Your Master came to a stumbling stop just ten feet away, “Oh. Come to play, have we? I don’t remember inviting company.” Tony put both hands up, repulsors charging. “Ah ah-! PUT YOUR HANDS DOWN.” 

That was it. That was how this story ended. You and Tony were going to suffer miserable lives. Tortured until the day either or both of you died. Maybe it would be quick. “Yeah. I don’t think so.” You weren’t sure you’d ever felt such ferocious wrath from him like this before.

His strong, confident voice shot a shiver up your spine. Both repulsors lit up along with the Arc in the chest plate, firing off a triplet beam that blasted that man hundreds of feet back. You didn’t even stop to look. Maybe you should have. But somehow Tony had- 

Pushing yourself up- running into his arms you wrapped yourself around him. Clinging to him for dear life. “Go- go now- take me home-” He’d somehow escaped that man’s control. 

But your commands? He reacted within a single beat of both your hearts. His arms wound around you and he lifted off into the sky. “I’ll call the team for cleanup-” 

“No! No- don’t send them there- he’ll kill them- he controls people- he’ll- Tony he’ll kill them-” Or make them kill each other for everyone’s amusement. Maybe he’d make you sit on his lap and watch. Make you laugh. Take it all away from you and then grab you by the hair and pull you somewhere new. 

You sensed his hesitation. Something else, too. Heavy uncertainty. Perhaps thinking- is she in her right mind? 

Well, no. Of course not. She’d been tortured for what was it- two months now? You had been missing and tortured by that man for two months. And now you were telling Tony to just leave him alone. No. You weren’t in your right mind. But he stopped arguing with you. 

Coming to a stop on the deck of the Tower, you stumbled out of his arms, energy fleeing in droves. He stepped out of the suit, and you were immediately grateful for the feel of his warm hands on your face, a familiar gaze- his beautiful brown eyes, deep- etched with worry- with concern- and with sorrow. 

That was all it took. 

Clutching at his chest you broke down. Buried your deep, aching sobs into his shirt. There was comfort in just how tight he was holding you. Almost painful. But wonderfully so. You were safe here. With him. You were home. It was over. 

You cried yourself into hyperventilation. Almost into throwing up- if only you’d had any food whatsoever in your system to give. But he cradled your face in his palms. Let you get it out. Talked you through breathing. And once you found a rhythm you practically collapsed in his arms. Hands still grabbing at him. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. Don’t let him get me. 

His lift was gentle as he picked you up. “Tony-” Steve’s voice, somewhere. Along with other familiar rumbles. Your family. You were home. And- 

“You’re safe, honey. I’ve got you…” You suspected he heard your internal begging. Please don’t leave me- don’t let him get me- you couldn’t stop yourself from letting it run on a loop. You couldn’t go back. You couldn’t go back. Please- “I’ve got you… you’re safe… you’re okay…” His tenderness carried you into a deep unconsciousness. But even there you still begged-

Please- Please… Somewhere in that same deep stillness he touched a wave of calm over you. 

You’re okay. I’ve got you. I love you. 

It’s over.

The nightmare was finally over. 

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter Eighty Eight

[crvmsdecorum]

"sᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛ ʙᴏʀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʀᴀɢᴇᴅʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ.”

( chris wood, 30, male, he/him ) Have you seen DANTE PIERCE around ? I hear they’re an CRIME SCENE INVESTIGATOR who can sometimes be CALLOUS & MANIPULATIVE. But I also heard they can be METHODICAL & CREATIVE if you catch them on a good day. They’re usually hanging around CHICAGO POLICE DEPARTMENT in their spare time. I sure hope they’re alright ! 

tw: incest, tw: blood, tw: gore, tw: murder, tw: violence, tw: asylum, tw: death. 

Meet Dante Theodore Pierce -- oh? You don't know him by that name? That is no surprise, the media knew the man as the 21st Century Ripper.

No body has come to know Dante being the Ripper and he would like it to stay that way. Besides, it’ll be hard for the authorities to link him to it since y’know -- Dante Pierce doesn’t exist technically.

Let’s go all the waaaay back to when he was born under the name Eugene Bartholomew Kline Jr. Horrible name, right? Yeah, Dante thought so too. It just didn’t scream him. 

Dante was the product of a little affair between James Kline and his niece, Bethel Kline. Not only was it incestuously, but there was also their ten year gap. 

Fourteen years old and now pregnant, Bethel came for to her parents of this great sin of her’s she barred with her half Uncle -- Mr. & Mrs. Kline RAGED. Of course with them being pillars of their small town and what a scandal this can lead too -- they kept it all under wraps. 

Bethel became pulled from school and resided on the family estate for the next nine months while James himself, went far, far away under the order’s of his older brother (Bethel’s father) Eugene Kline. 

Time came and Bethel went into labor during the middle of a nasty thunderstorm and at the end of it, she gave birth to only one child but two. Bethel had twins: a boy and a girl. This shocked the house even more just as much as her affair with her own uncle did. 

After the birth of the twins, the Kline family came up with a cover story claiming they adopted twins and have sent Bethel off to boarding school. The town believed and everything settle back down, finally a clearing after this long nine months for the family. Or at least they thought. 

They given the girl a beautiful name while they gave the son a family name -- Eugene Jr. Again, terrible name to bestow on a kid. It’s like they were expecting the kid to be dark or something. 

At the age of three is when little Eugene began to show a darkness to him -- one that horrified the family. What did a little three year old do? Simple. He killed his mother’s pet bird and his reason? The bird wouldn’t shut up and nipped at his finger. With his tiny hands he snapped the neck of the feathery animal. 

He didn’t stop this dark side of him, it only grew with age. Not long after turning seven Eugene shoved his sister into the pool and kept her head underwater simply because he was jealous the attention their parents were giving him. Thankfully they came in just in time for their daughter to be saved. Eugene was punished for this, but this was just the beginning of his reign of terror.

By the end of that year he has ran off four housemaids due to his behavior and each of them being sent to the ER. The last woman was found with glass in her shoes from Eugene. His reason? He didn’t like the way his room was cleaned.

Having enough of the terror he placed on the household due to his sadistic pranks, Mr. & Mrs. Kline sent him away -- far away. They knew they couldn’t place him in a boarding school or military one or he’d be a danger to others there so what did they do? Easy. They locked him up in an asylum where the Kline family are secret charity donors for the facility.

When arriving to the facility Eugene raised HELL to the staff and to himself, shoving the inner monster that he kept buried at the Kline residence. Though slowly over the years Eugene became more mellow and soon didn’t cause any trouble to the staff members. At the age of twenty they’ve informed the family that he is CURED and is able to return home. Of course they were hesitate at first, but they figured it was time for him to come home. 

Soon Eugene Jr. was brought home and obviously didn’t look like his child self. He was all grown up, puberty had done its deed. Due to the constant solitary he faced while at the nut place he really didn’t exactly keep up with facial hygiene. He allowed his beard to grow up, same with his hair. Mr. Kline instructed he would like the facial hair to be gone and something Eugene never has done, he quietly declined and said he will get rid of it in the morning.

Dinner time soon came for the household with Eugene sitting at the end of the table, all acting as if one big happy family -- all of them except returned Kline. He broke his silence when he asked if Bethel will be joining them and told them she won’t. The man scoffs as he wasn’t surprised and just like that his quiet persona fell and from that rose, a familiar look the whole family knew.

Eugene revealed to his so called parents he had learned a few things while stuck in that mad house, he had used his connections and learned a certain DARK secret. Seeing where this was going, Mr. Kline had ordered his son to his room and ended family dinner early. Before the family went to sleep and in fear of what he could reveal, Eugene Sr. had the deranged son locked up in the family basement. “Your a rat, so you are staying where a rat sleeps.” He said. Little did the father knew the rat wasn’t planning on staying there long. 

Shortly after midnight the deranged man managed to pick the lock and escape the gloomy basement. It wasn’t long until the family home became filled with the screams of someone dying. First though before all of that Eugene made his way onto his twin sister. He wanted to try to persuade him to her side and in doing so, told her the truth of their origin. They are INDEED Klines, but Eugene and Elisabeth Kline were their grandparents not their parents. Eugene revealed they were the product of a incest affair between their Uncle James and their older sister, Bethel. His sister’s reply? I KNOW. He soon became quickly filled with rage and lashed out his sister, giving her a deep wound to the stomach and leaving her there in her bedroom for now.

It didn’t take long for screams to be heard through out the house soon as he brought a blade to Elisabeth Kline’s neck and gutting her like a fish. He quickly than moved on to Eugene Kline Sr. and oh it was something worth the wait of rotting in that asylum throughout all those shock therapies, the endless torture -- ALL OF IT. 

By the time the morning rose, the Kline estate was burned to the ground with everyone in it with authorities believing Eugene himself too had died. Or did he? 

After the “death” of his family, Eugene went and changed himself completely. Having a fascination for Dante’s Inferno, the sociopath came up with the name Dante Pierce. Changing his name and ridding himself of the hair he had grown up for certain reasons (looking unrecognizable). Though as if karma wanted to come bite him in the ass it did -- HIS SISTER SURVIVED. His work was far from done, that he knew since Bethel was still out there, but now someone else has been added to the list with a few certain others.

Fast forward to a him recently turned thirty and had earned a Master’s Degree in Forensics. With that and his new identify, Dante has searched out in the world for what is left of the Kline family and in doing so had came across his Uncle -- his Father and put an end to the man, knowing that James has has contact with both Bethel and his sister. Since that night of the family fire til now, Dante hasn’t stopped killing. Whoever get’s in his way he doesn’t hesitate for a second in slaughtering someone. 

Prior to the man’s death from his son’s tortures, James revealed that they had fled to Chicago for a fresh start and that is where Dante has gone too. He knows he needs to end the family line to start a new one. Kill the past. 

Personality;; Dante is a guy who oozes with charisma. To the world he appears as this kind hearted soft young man who works as a CSI, but to certain few people they know his true colors, the blood on his hands. He does have a heart even though it is buried deep under all that darkness and blood he has spilled. 

Wanted Connections;; rivals, fwbs, drinking buddies, friends, he can use all the connections tbh! i

#crimson.intro #intro ; dante #tw: violence #tw: blood #tw: murder #tw: death #tw: incest

[krycss]

Actions Speak Louder Than Words | Jacob Seed x f!Deputy

Chapter 13

[Read on AO3]

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

So uh, oops? To make a long story short, I got a job and it basically kicked my ass for months. I've had to work on this chapter in just random spurts of creativity which ranged from being able to write a paragraph to just one sentence before my brain gave up. Work has pretty much sucked all joy from my life BUT, thanks to a good friend @poedaneron I was able to get this bad boy finished. I promise I haven't abandoned this story or my Red Dead 2 story, just be aware that chapters are definitely going to be coming out much slower in the future due to work. I've already got this entire story planned out until the start of New Dawn so just know that I have things under control, just slow as fuck.

The cabin was in disarray when they arrived. With what little sunlight was still left, Cat could see the dust floating through the air as Jacob kicked the door in. She laughed into his neck as he gripped her tighter into his arms. He had picked her up into a bridal carry the moment they exited his truck, eager after she teased him earlier.

“I really gotta stop doing that, too old for that shit.” He grumbled, kissing her shoulder as he put her down on the ground.

“I’ve warned you before about kicking doors!”

“Don’t get snappy with me MISSUS Seed.”

Cat looked over at him, smirking.

“What are you going to do about it, MISTER Seed?”

They were both smirking now.

“Well first, I’m gonna unwrap my gift.” His eyes raked over Cat’s wedding dress.

She didn’t dare move, suppressing a smile, as her husband circled her like a wolf on the prowl. She could physically feel his gaze as he came to stand behind her. He brushed her hair over her shoulder, letting his fingers linger on her neck before trailing them down the expanse of her back exposed by her dress. Cat shivered, earning a quiet chuckle from the man behind her. His hands ran back up to the lace sleeves and slowly pushed them down her arms, letting gravity do most of the work for him. Once the dress was hanging from her hips, Jacob ran his hands over her shoulders, following every movement down her spine with his lips, trailing kisses and bites as he sunk down to his knees.  

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Cat sucked in a shaky breath as she felt him kiss the scars on her back from her capture.

With a small tug, the rest of the dress pooled around her ankles. Cat stepped out of the dress with Jacob holding onto the back of her thighs to keep her steady in her heels. She turned around and looked down at the man at her feet. He raked his hungry gaze up her legs, from her red heels to the red garter that she had teased him with earlier, stopping his eyes at what was the only thing under her dress. Cat smirked at his expression.

“See something you like?” She whispered into the quiet room.

“Very much so, sweetheart.” He trailed kisses up her thighs, stopping to place a quick one on her hip.

She had to suppress a laugh at what Jacob might think if he found out that they were the wedding gift John had given her. It had been wrapped in a big red bow, sitting in her dressing room that morning with a note that simply said “You’re welcome. Your brother, John.”

They were red, lacy, and had a little bow in the back that Cat thought was both adorable and sexy. If the look Jacob was giving her was anything to go by, he thought so too.

“You’re overdressed now, husband.” Cat ran her hands through his hair, scraping her nails along his scalp lightly.

“So are you.” He looked up at her, keeping eye contact as he ran his fingers softly up her thighs and bring them back down with the lingerie in tow.

When he got to her ankles he helped her step out of the lace as well as her heels, leaving her in nothing but a garter and a smile.

“Perfect.” He whispered.

Cat helped tug him back up to his feet, smiling lightly at the little groan of protest against his knees.

“Have a hard time down there?” She teased.

Jacob just glared playfully at her before picking her up and walking her to the bed. She had to admit, being fully naked while he still had on his dress clothes was doing something for her and based on his expression, he knew it too.

The bedroom was just as much a mess as the rest of the cabin but they hardly cared. The bed still worked just fine. Despite her taunting, Jacob laid her down gently, earning a soft smile from his wife.

It was quiet before he spoke again.

“I’m still waiting to wake up from this crazy dream.” He whispered.

Cat reached her hand up to place it against his cheek lovingly.

“Hate to say it, but it’s not a dream and you’re stuck with me now.” She laughed under her breath. “I love you, Jacob Seed.”

“I love you, Catherine Seed.”

Cat squirmed, it was weird hearing her full name from him but still, it was the first time he’d actually said the words to her. The emotions of the wedding, seeing her friends, and just her general happiness was enough to cause her to tear up. He laughed at her expression as he bent down to kiss away her tears.

“I love you.” He whispered again.

The plan was to spend one week in the cabin. Cat was surprised Jacob okay with allowing others to take over for his time away from the Veteran’s Center. Especially since Pratt wouldn’t be there anymore. Still, she could tell he was antsy and constantly fighting the urge to turn on his radio. He had to find something to do before bed, something to keep him occupied – something that didn’t involve going for round two with his wife just yet. It was late when they had found some old Christmas decorations in the attic and, despite it being the middle of summer, they went to work on decorating their little home-away-from-home. Lights were hung wherever they could be hung, blankets were strewn about the various couches and chairs. They even moved the bed so that it was near the fireplace at night when the Whitetail Mountains cooled. It was cozy. She didn’t end up sleeping until after midnight, but when she finally did, Cat felt like she sleeping in her own home. She was fairly certain that Jacob didn’t get much sleep if any, because when she woke the next morning there was already music playing lightly on the record player and the smell of coffee permeated the air.

Jacob returned to the bed when he saw that she was awake sitting up and trying to tame her wild hair. She thanked him as he handed her a mug before settling into the bed with her once more.

Cat maneuvered herself so that her back was to Jacob’s chest, twining her legs between his.

“I love this already.” She sighed.

He hummed in question. “What do you mean?”

“The peace. Not having to constantly look over our shoulders or worry about anything other than what we’re going to do for the day.” She absent-mindedly ran a finger over the scars on her lips. “Something normal, I guess. In a perfect world I guess this would be where I could see us settling. Like, if all this crazy shit wasn’t happening maybe we could start a family.” She clamped her mouth shut. She hadn’t expected that part to come out.

She felt Jacob put his mug down before he wrapped his arms around her, careful not to spill her drink.

There was a beat of silence filled only by the soft jazz from the record player. It was finally broken when Jacob hummed as he tugged Cat closer to his chest.

“Would you want that?” He spoke lowly into her shoulder.

She hummed in question.

“We’re here for a week. We could always have that perfect little ‘slice-of-life’ while it lasts.” Cat could feel Jacob placing light kisses to her shoulder and neck.

It was something she had thought of. Before coming to Hope County, that is. She had this whole idea in her head about her life – perfect partner, perfect kids, and the best house in the best neighborhood. The whole white, picket fence deal. Now she wasn’t sure what she wanted or if she could have even half of that. She had the first part down at least. But kids? An actual family? That couldn’t happen with Eden’s Gate and the Resistance terrorizing the County. It wasn’t like her and Jacob could move. And if, for some reason, Joseph is right and there really is a Collapse coming soon, then how could she even entertain the idea? She didn’t even know if Jacob would want kids in the future - if at all. Why’d she bring it up?

She felt Jacob nip at her shoulder, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Don’t get lost in your head.” He lectured.

“Sorry.” Cat whispered. She turned her head and placed a small kiss to his cheek. “Would you want to pretend? You don’t think it’d just be too depressing? To reach for something we can’t have?”

“Hm, why not? I won’t be able to give you that kind of life. Especially with my brother and his plans.” His voiced lowered to a whisper. “You deserve that kind of life…”

Cat knocked her head lightly against his. “Don’t get lost in your head.” She teased.

Jacob sat back, turning Cat around to face him.

“I still can’t understand why you wanted to be stuck with me. Especially since I can’t give you the life you deserve, but.” He interrupted Cat before she could reprimand him again. “I’ll give you what I can for however long that may be.”

Cat put her coffee down on next to Jacob’s.

“I didn’t marry you to have the perfect life, Jacob.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I married you because I love you. Weird familial occupation and all.”

They both laughed under their breath. Jacob gently lifted her left hand, bringing her wedding ring to his lips before lightly slapping her thighs.

“Alright. Come on, you.” Jacob groaned, pulling both of them to the edge of the bed. “We got some fishing to do.”

They had packed two coolers into the back of their pick-up truck. One, empty for the fish they would catch, and the other filled with some sandwiches Cat had quickly put together and some beer that Jacob managed to gather. According to him it was a “going away present” from John. Cat wasn’t about to rat him out if meant having a lovely afternoon with her husband. They drove out to the edge of a lake right at the end of the cabin’s property. They were isolated as much as they could from Hope County, but there was still the faint sound of gunfire in the distance ever so often. The weather was still cool this early in the morning so Cat was thankful when Jacob offered her his jacket to wear until the air warmed up. Snuggling into the oversized coat, she plopped down into the folding chair next to the man. Jacob was already throwing his line in by the time she baited hers.

“So, any other plans for the day or are we just gonna spend it out at the lake?” She inquired.

Jacob shrugged. “I don’t see why not. At least until you start burning up like a lobster.”

Cat laughed, nodding her head.  “We wanna do a fish fry or something?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Cat could admit, having idle chatter was not their strong suit. As the silence went on it seemed Jacob had the same thought as her.

“We’re not very good at this ‘normal’ thing are we?”

They both chuckled under their breath.

“Definitely not. It’s weird not thinking about tactics or worrying about things constantly.”

Jacob snorted. “Trust me I’ve already got the over-thinking part down. I’ve got about ten different exit strategies for the cabin if something goes down.”

It was silent once more but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable now that they acknowledged it. A good four hours had passed and that was enough time for the few cans of beer that Cat had drunk to start taking effect. She had completely given up on fishing at this point and was just staring at Jacob unabashedly.

“What?”

“Baseball dad.” Cat nodded sagely.

“The hell are you talking about now?” Jacob put his rod down to stare at his tipsy wife.

“Was tryin’ to figure out what kind of dad you’d be. You’d be a baseball dad. The one who tries his damnedest to fight the umpire every time there’s a penalty on his kid.”

“Oh really?”

“Yup.” Cat drew out the word, ending with a pop. “Ooh! Maybe you’d be the coach of the team instead!”

By this point Cat had gotten up out of her chair and was situating herself in Jacob’s lap much to his annoyance. Still, he watched her with an amused smile at her outburst.

“Well, I suppose anything’s better than turning out like my old man.” He muttered, running his fingers through her hair.

Cat sobered up a bit at that, bringing hand up to Jacob’s cheek. He leaned into the touch. “That’s not gonna happen.”

Jacob raised a brow at her.

“It’s not!” Cat turned so that instead of her knees over his lap, they were now on either side of his thighs, straddling him. “Wanna know why?”

Jacob chuckled under his breath. “Why?”

“Cuz you’re not alone anymore. You got me as your wife and I wouldn’t let you get like that.”

“You wouldn’t let me, hm?” Jacob wrapped his arms around her waist.

“You know you’d let me get away with anything.” She smiled sweetly at him before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Besides, you took care of your brothers pretty much, right?”

“Look how that turned out.” Jacob rolled his eyes.

Cat rocked her head back and forth. “Technically that part happened later when you weren’t there, but still! My point still stands.”

They sat there in silence for a short moment, just listening to the sounds around them. There was a light breeze shaking the leaves and every so often there was the sound of a fish jumping in the water.

Jacob laughed to himself, causing Cat to raise an eyebrow.

“Our kids will be stubborn as hell if they’re a combo of us two.”

Cat snorted. “They’ll be adorable though.”

They were silent again and Cat somehow knew that they were both thinking that it was unfair to be having this conversation since kids wouldn’t be option for them with their lifestyle. Still, neither voiced it, choosing to live in their pretend life for the moment.

Then Cat had an interesting idea, and without saying anything she got up out of Jacob’s lap and started walking towards the edge of the lake. She left a trail of clothes behind her until she was in nothing but her underwear – she didn’t need the fish in the lake touching anything they weren’t supposed to.

“Now what’s my wife up to, hm?” Jacob took a slow sip of the rest of his beer, eyeing Cat down.

“It’s so hot out here, Jacob.” She turned and walked into the water, putting an extra sway to her step. “Thought I’d go for a swim.”

When she was about waist deep she turned around, crooking her finger to beckon Jacob in.

With a laugh that ended in a bit of a growl, Jacob followed dutifully. Cat wasn’t hiding her gaze as she watched him remove his shirt. He was still clearly uncomfortable in his own skin, but she knew he appreciated how much she seemed to like it. He walked tortuously slow as he got closer to the water. Removing his jeans wasn’t as smooth but Cat still bit her bottom lip anyways.

“The water’s cold and you’re teasing me! I need you to warm me up, Jacob. Stop being rude.” She giggled at the way his eyes shot up to hers as she swam further away from him.

“Oh you’re in for it now.”

They went back to their cabin later with a decent amount of fish which led to a filling dinner and plenty of leftovers. The rest of their honeymoon was spent in much the same way. Each day something new with a hint of their pretend “normal” life. Little chats by the fireside about what their life would be like if they lived in the suburbs, had normal jobs, or how they would have met outside of this life. Cat says she’d still be a cop, and Jacob said he’d probably be the homeless vet she got calls about but ended up taking care of instead. Cat instead suggested that perhaps he was the sexy fireman that always flirted with her when they showed up to the same emergency.

Another day was spent hiking through the Whitetails – avoiding the areas most likely to be patrolled by either side of the Hope County civil war. They ran into a bear at one point, but Cat was surprised to find that it was actually Cheeseburger just passing through. Jacob almost had a heart-attack as he watched his wife run up to the beast and wrap it in a, quite literal, bear hug before she explained anything.

They talked about their childhood one night, although it was mostly Cat just telling Jacob about how she grew up. Single mother, no siblings. She took up a career in law enforcement to try and understand her late father who died in the service before she was born. She knew Jacob’s childhood already from talking with Joseph and reading his Book. Still, it was good to hear it from the source without any preamble or opinions from his younger brother. It was good to hear, even if it required drinks and lots of cuddling afterwards.

All too soon though, their last day in the cabin had arrived. They hadn’t packed up, hadn’t taken down any of the decorations they put up earlier. They spent the day just lounging, knowing that they would never have this peace again for a very long time. They were lying in bed currently, Jacob had his head in Cat’s lap as she ran her hand through his hair. There was a certain sadness in the air that neither talked about but both understood. They didn’t want to leave this little sanctuary. Once they left, the danger would increase again for them, especially now that they’ll be worried for each other even more.

Cat sighed, finally breaking the silence.

Jacob opened his eyes, glancing up at her. “What’s wrong?”

She bit her lip, moving her hand down to rub his cheek. “I…I don’t want to leave.”

Jacob hummed noncommittally, moving his own hand up to hold hers against his cheek, pressing a kiss to her palm.

“In a perfect world.” He mumbled. “But we have our duties. Our family. We can’t leave them.”

“God knows what they’d do without us.” Cat chuckled under her breath.

Jacob rolled his eyes as he nodded his head incredulously, shifting to sit up straight.

“I promise you this, though.” He ran his hands through her hair, leaving both of his hands on the sides of her head. “I will always protect you. I’ll always love you. Even when shit hits the fan, got it?”

Cat nodded, blinking back tears. “And I’ll do the same for you. Partners.”

Jacob smiled, staring into her eyes. “Now how about we make the most of our last night here, hm?”

“I think that sounds like a smart idea.”

“Cheeky.”

Cat chuckled, removing herself from Jacob’s grasp.

“I’ll show you cheeky.”

Jacob snorted, earning a mock glare from Cat. She only had on one of his shirts and a pair of cute, but comfortable, underwear which made stripping for her husband that much easier. Once she was naked she turned around, crawling back up onto the bed next to Jacob who hadn’t taken his eyes off of her. Cat dragged her hand up from Jacob’s thigh to the end of his shirt before helping him remove it. She ran her hands over his chest, kissing his collarbone as she pushed him back onto the bed.

“One last night of pretend.” She whispered to his neck before biting it gently. “Let’s make it count.”

#fic: actions speak louder than words #my ocs: catherine rook #far cry 5 #jacob seed #jacob seed x female deputy #fc5 #fc5 fic