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#if you let me gouge out your eyes maybe we could both be normal girls. do you ever think of that. okay whatever
quadrantbreaker · 8 months
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whatever fuck kikuo . listening only to the utsu p cover of aishite. fuck you times two .
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inklore · 9 months
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sweet serial killer
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premise: it doesn’t matter if he’s killing you or you're killing someone else. you’re putty in his hands right now, and you’re both fucked. 
pairing: ethan landry x (f)reader
word count: 1.7k
contents: piv, more psychotic feelings than anything, choking, mentions of knife and blood play, murders, dirty talk, stalking, au since this is not in correlation with the film, pain kink.
note: this is my first time writing for this little fucked up curly q even though i have drafts upon drafts of ideas for him, which i'll gladly write if ya'll want more.
haunted hoedown day three.
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You should be surprised. 
You should be pissed. 
Scared. 
Running for your life.
Something. Anything.
Other than standing in front of a murderer, your knuckles curling around the edge of the dresser your ass is pushed against. Your excelled heart rate pounding in your ears the closer he steps to you, leaving no room for you to breathe without touching him. Without smelling him. Stealing each other's air. 
Your eyes should be mapping out a quick exit. Coming up with a plan to get the hell out of here. Not looking into his. Not seeing the deep hue of nothingness that is abnormal to see in a sane person's eyes. The dilation of pupils letting you know that he’s got a plan either way. No matter how you take what he just told you.
“I’m ghostface.” 
The darkness in his eyes tells you you can run, but you won’t get far. You can tell someone, but we both know you won’t because I see you.
It’s why you haven’t moved. Why an escape is the last thing on your mind. Because your eyes are casting that same darkness right back at him. 
“You don’t have to pretend with me.” 
His words are like a fire engulfing you, more dangerous than the performance of normality you constantly put on. The sweet, rich girl whose parents gave her a free ride to college, who dote on her like a prized show pony because she’s the perfect child—the perfect daughter. 
The one thing in their lives they didn’t screw up. 
Being born screwed up and hiding it well, no fault of their own.
Known psychopaths rarely get what they want. They might, for a little while. But the lavishes never last. There's always more you need, more you want. And there are only so many people in this world who will give you what you want out of fear. 
Fear leads to trouble. Fear leads to getting caught. Turned in. Turned upon.
Hidden psychopaths, however, have an advantage. A perfected way of being that makes them seem like the nicest people you’ve ever met. The person you can run to. Trust. Count on. The person you wish you could be. 
That’s how you get what you want. 
That’s how you make the high of deceiving, hurting, and killing last. 
And if rich parents who like to hire nannies have taught you anything, it's that it is very easy to pretend. To perfect this little act. To be perceived as loving and being able to love when really all you want to do is gouge the person next to you’s eyes out. 
You have a system. A routine. You never let your crown slip. You never let anyone see you for what you truly are. You’d lose everything. Lavishes gone. That control you have gone. 
You didn’t care about being loved or feared. 
Feelings meant nothing to you. 
But watching the emotions of pain enacted on someone's face when you caused it? Nothing compared to it.
Besides, maybe the way Ethan is looking at you right now. 
The look someone gets when they look into a mirror and like the monster they see looking back at them. 
Part of you should have known. Should have seen this coming with the way his eyes were always already on yours when you looked his way in class. Or that night you caught him following you around campus, but you pretended you didn’t see him—much like the night he caught you red handed, literally, with blood staining your nails, and your pre-rehearsed explanation only making his eyes grow wider and fill with darkness, he quickly smiled away. 
And the nail that should have been pounded into the coffin when your roommate got attacked and all Ghostface did was wave his shiny little knife in your face, a gloved hand around your throat, and then disappeared down the fire escape. And the next day, when everyone was making your skin crawl from sympathy hugs and the fake tears that were glossing your eyes, Ethan had only given you dark looks from across the courtyard. 
Brows low and casting a shadow over his eyes in class. 
You should have known then. 
You’re usually so much better at reading people, trying to understand their normality to copy it. Use it against them.
But Ethan wasn’t normal. That much was clear. 
“I didn’t think you had it in you,” he chuckles under his breath as he shrugs, “this perfect little daddies girl, the girl everyone wants to sleep with, is crazy.” A slow smile lifts the corner of his mouth, “so many nights I’ve followed you, and you’ve kept your facade going. Even when no one was watching. Until the night I ran into you in the hall, the night I knew. I could see it written all over your face.” 
He leans in closer, his curls ghosting over your forehead. His voice a whisper, “but you’re not very good at hiding your messes, so I did it for you. I saved us both the trouble. You getting caught and me—well, Ghostface—taking credit for a kill so messy. And when I gave you my little present, that pesky roommate of yours gone, I could see it in your eyes. That trust. That you would have been happy with me either killing you or fucking you.” 
Your breath halts in your lungs, burning the back of your throat from the noise you let out when Ethan grabs it. Squeezing just enough to make it hard to swallow and to make that growing hunger move past your belly and throb between your legs. 
“Which is it now? Do you want to be fucked or killed?” 
Your lips try to form words, but the hand around your throat mingled with that perfected crown falling and shattering to the ground has your darkness making itself known more than just in the fire that’s so clearly burning in your eyes—the gasps that sound like weak whimpers, the warmth of your body against Ethan’s, the way your insides feel like molten lava when you consider both objectives—your mind is clouded with a pleasure you’ve only ever felt when you’ve watched the agony of pain fade out someone's light completely, your nails smelling of copper for days after.
If Ethan pulled out his knife right now and put it to your throat, you’d come before he made the first cut.
And as he says, “if I went downstairs and grabbed one of your fans and brought them up here and slit their throat for you, would you like that? Would you prefer that instead?” 
Your body shivers from his words, from the free hand that's running down your hip to the apex of your inner thigh—your sorry excuse for a skirt giving him more than enough access to press his thumb to the growing wet patch on the outside of your underwear. The pad of his finger pressing in and adding just the right amount of pressure to your aching clit to make your eyes flutter. 
“Or is it your insides you want me to see?” 
The involuntary whimper of his name, the motion of your hips trying to rub yourself against the miniscule touch between your legs, his last words, and the accuracy of it all are the finality for both of you. 
The thing that finally lets you both know that it doesn’t matter if he’s killing you, or you’re killing someone else, or blood is spilt for you, you’re putty in his hands right now, and you’re both fucked. 
So when his lips come down on yours, it’s hard and rough and lacking any sort of passion. 
Any sort of fake pleasure you’ve always had to give to past lovers. 
There's nothing fake about the heat inside of you. The sauna of depravity that Ethan is pulling out of you—devouring it with bloody teeth that match your own hunger. Your own fucked up way of getting off. Of feeling something. 
When Ethan starts to descend to his knees, leaving a trail of bites along your neck that feel too hard and imprinting to not be a personal vendetta of anger, of want, of a need to make you feel pain, to want it from him—you stop him. 
Yanking his curls so hard, he’s hissing against your mouth. Your fingers move in a flash of pushed away fabric, buttons, and zippers to free him and wrap a hand around his cock. Giving it a couple pumps. Watching the way his mouth parts and his lips curl in pleasure when you tighten and twist around the head. 
Wordlessly telling him what you want when you turn away, pushing your ass out for him as you bend yourself over the dresser. 
If you didn’t have him inside of you one way or another, you know you’d lose your patience. Know that darkness would simmer away into something worse, something that would leave the both of you in more agony than pleasure. 
You needed him. 
And by the sound Ethan makes when he thrusts into you—hard, without warning—you know he needs you too. Know that he’s probably gotten off to the thought of you bloodied and underneath him, his knife pressed to your throat, threatening to make you bleed if you didn’t let him come inside of you. If you didn’t let him lick the wounds he wants to create against your flesh. 
The pace he sets is rough. 
Harsh against your body that rubs against the rigid edge of the dresser. His nails dig into your hips as he pulls you back onto him, as he grabs the back of your neck, digging his fingers into your skull. 
The palm that snakes around to your neck pulls you up and against his front, putting your body at a new angle that has your muscles stretching in pain and making your eyes roll back. The noises of pleasure and pain like a fucked up hymn. 
“That night I was in your apartment, your life in my hands, do you know how much self control I had to have to not slice this pretty throat?” His teeth graze against the skin below your ear, his own groans and hitches of breath making you feel lightheaded. “To not make you bleed and spread it against my cock and make you jerk it off. Make you use your mouth to lick me clean.”
It’s those words and the lack of air his palm is allowing your lungs to intake that make you come. That has the gasp falling from your mouth sounding like something dying, something begging for life. 
Portraying the opposite of his words. Of why you’re coming. Of why the rush has you going lax against him and smiling. 
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bteezxyewriter12 · 2 years
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Protection/ 4
Pairing- Changkyun x Named Reader
Word count- 7.2k
Includes- Angst, sex, love making, missionary, riding, physical fight/ altercation, so much fluff
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Walking into the cafe, I look around for her
She said she was meeting her friend here after work and she'd text me when I can come get her
After what happened at the club a few days ago, I'm not letting her out of my sight even more than usual
I did change my schedule so I can bring her to work and pick her up
She yelled at me but I don't care
I promised I'll keep her safe and I will
She's here because she said she was going with someone, with Hannah
Of course I was pacing around the apartment nervously waiting for her call
I may be being overprotective but she's really scared of this guy and I won't let anything happen to her
Searching the cafe, I find her with her friend, both of them absorbed in conversation
"You fucked him in public?", Hannah is saying and I stop in my place
They're talking about me
Smirking, I stand to the side behind a wall to listen
I wanna see what she says about me
"Well it was dark in the club but yeah"
"Jesus Christ Joanne, that's some shit you would have never done with anyone"
I figured that and I'm happy she did it with me
"Yeah I know. He just has a weird affect on me", she answers
"Like when he calls you jagi?"
"Shut up", she snaps
"C'mon you can tell me how you feel. You always could. And you promised after Hyun that you wouldn't hide anything from me anymore"
So she hid what was happening with Hyun from her friends too
She's quiet for a few seconds
"I wished he'd call me jagi for real", she sighs, "I wish it was all real and he wasn't just doing this because of Hyun"
Wait what?
She has feelings for me?
Like real feelings?
Romantic feelings?
"Then tell him how you feel", Hannah urges
She snorts, "Not a chance in hell. Never in a million years. He doesn't see me like that. I'm even surprised that he's doing all this."
Why?
I'm not a complete asshole
When it comes to her safety of course I'm going to help her
I'm not going to let a creepy psycho hurt her
"We usually just have sex and then he ignores me as anything other than a friend. It's just unusual that he'd say he's my boyfriend instead of my friend."
Hannah rolls her eyes, "Maybe he does like you. That's why he's acting like your boyfriend"
She scoffs, "You're funny. And no he doesn't. After all this with Hyun blows over, it'll just be back to the way it used to be. We'll have sex, then he'll go out and fuck more girls"
Right now, as I hear her say that, I don't want that to happen
I don't want to go back to normal
I like having her sleep in my bed with me
In my arms
I like giving her little kisses, holding her hand, cuddling with her
I don't want that to stop but that's not what you do with a friends with benefits
It's what you do with a girlfriend
"I think you should say something", Hannah says
Oh shit
That has to be why she was upset the night I left to be with the other girl
The night I rejected a blow job
Because she has feelings
"I'd rather gouge my eyes out with a rusty spoon", she deadpans
I hold back a laugh at that
I know she's having a serious conversation but she's really funny too
"Thank you for that lovely visual. Dramatic much?", Hannah snaps, "Honestly what can you lose?"
She's silent for a few seconds
Then, "Are you fucking joking? You're joking right?"
"Uh no", Hannah answers
"What do I have to lose? How about a friendship? A roommate? Or how about having to live in awkwardness when he rejects me?"
She's pretty adamant I'd reject her
I mean I don't know what I'd do before but now....after these few weeks of spending time together doing things other than sex, the more I realize I do have feelings for her
I'm falling for her hard and I'm terrified
I've never had real feelings like this for anyone and I don't know what to do about it
My relationships don't last and I don't want her to just be another fling
I'd want to be serious with her, have a real relationship with her but I have no idea how to do that
"I can't live with him and have everything be weird between us. I'd have to move"
She can't move
She's the best roommate I've had
And not because of the sex
She does more than her share of cooking and cleaning and it makes me want to do more so she doesn't have to do everything
"He still fucks other girls all the time. If he had feelings for me he wouldn't do that. And I'm so fucking pathetic, I'm one of those girls. I don't even know if he uses condoms with the other girls. He never uses one with me. God I'm a fucking idiot"
I always use condoms with anyone else I fuck
She's the only one I don't use them with
The only one
"Has he slept with anyone else during this whole pretending to be your boyfriend?", Hannah questions
She shrugs, "I don't know. I don't ask and I'm not with him all day every day. Or every night. He could leave while I'm sleeping in my room. I'd have no idea."
I haven't slept with anyone since I first told Hyun I'm her boyfriend
I go from work to immediately picking her up from work and then we go do any errands she has to do
Then it's home and I stay with her, hanging out
And I don't leave the apartment after she goes to sleep
Whether she's in my bed with me or not
"Are you still sleeping with him?"
"Yeah", she says softly, "I should stop. I need to stop."
No she can't stop
I don't want to stop
I want her
I don't think I can stop being with her
"Nothing will ever happen with us. He'll just find someone he really wants and I'll have to deal with a broken heart", she tells Hannah, "I can't sleep with him anymore. I have to get over him"
No no no
I don't want any of that
I want her
I don't know how to tell her or what to say but she can't get over me
I just need time
I know it's not fair but I need her to wait a little bit
"When this Hyun thing is over maybe you can hook me up with that guy you were telling me about a few months ago? Your friend?"
What?
What friend?
What guy?
I didn't know Hannah was trying to get her with one of her friends
"You mean Seonghwa?"
Seonghwa?
Who the fuck is Seonghwa?
"Yeah. I remember you showed me his picture. He's hot at least", she says
He's what?
She thinks he's hot?
Why?
What does he look like?
This cannot be happening
"I mean if you want I can. He was into your picture when I showed him"
Not happening
No
He can't have her
She's mine
Just thinking about her being with this Seonghwa- no
She cannot go out with him
I have to stop this conversation before it keeps on going and she does end up with a date with this guy
Walking out from behind the wall, I walk towards them, making sure they see me
"Hi Jo", I greet, leaning down and kissing her lips quickly
"Hi Kyunnie"
"Sup Changkyun", Hannah says
"Hi", I answer then turn to her, "Ready to go?"
She nods, "Yeah"
She says bye to Hannah, then follows me out of the cafe and to the car
----------------------------------------------------
I walk into her room, sitting next to her on her bed
She's been quiet since we came home
We stopped for food and brought it back here
Instead of eating at the kitchen table, she went into the living room with her food and put the tv on
I had no choice but to follow her and we awkwardly sat next to each other in silence watching an episode of the Vampire Diaries
Which is a stupid show but then again I didn't know what was going on
After she washed the dishes then just went to her room
I left her alone for about an hour until I finally couldn't take it and came to her
"Hi jagi"
"Hi Kyun"
I kiss her cheek, then press kisses to her neck
Maybe I could make her feel better another way
And I'm always ready to be with her
Dragging kisses down to her shoulder, I move my fingers under the back of her shirt, barely touching her skin and feeling the little trembles
I gently turn her face to mine and kiss her soft lips
She kisses me softly then breaks it right away
"Kyun, I'm not in the mood right now", she says softly, moving away from me
What?
She never says no
It's starting, I realize
She was serious about stopping this with us
And it hurts so much more than I ever thought it would
My god it hurts
"I'm just really tired tonight ok? I just want to sleep"
I swallow hard, freaking out inside
But I keep calm on the outside
"Yeah Jo sure. It's ok"
She just nods, getting under the covers, her eyes avoiding me as she lays down
"Night Kyun"
I don't know what to do
Do I leave?
Go to my room?
I don't want to
I want to stay with her
But I'm scared that if I try, she'll kick me out
We haven't slept with each other without having sex first
The only exception to that was when she had the nightmare
But I can't just leave
I can't
Something in me won't let me
Something is telling me that if I leave now, everything will be different between us
And I don't want that
I close her light, then I walk to her bed, getting in next to her
"What-", she starts, stopping when I pull her in my arms
"I want to stay with you", I tell her, "I want you in my arms"
She's silent, not moving
And I think I fucked everything up
But then she moves closer, her head on my shoulder, her face in my neck and her arm wrapping around my body
I turn into her, cuddling right into her, holding her tightly
And it feels right
Holding her feels right
Like she's supposed to be there
And I feel calm, happy
I kiss her forehead, running my fingers in her soft silky hair
Her arms tighten around me and I just hold her while she falls asleep
----------------------------------------------------
A beeping sound makes me open my eyes and lift my head
Where am I?
"Fuck", I hear
I look down to see her in my arms
And complete happiness fills me
She rolls away and slams her hand down on her alarm clock
That's what that annoying sound was
"Five more minutes", she grumbles, cuddling back into me
"Yeah jagi, five more minutes"
Her eyes slowly opening, her pretty brown eyes on me
"Kyunnie?"
"Yeah baby", I answer, running my fingers in her hair
She doesn't say anything, just looks at me
And I can't resist
Leaning down, I press a soft kiss to her lips
I just have to kiss her
I have too
And I'm so elated when she kisses me back
Last night she didn't want to and now she is
Her hands move around me, holding me against her and I love being in her arms
I kiss her slowly, softly, our tongues against each other, moving gently
I move my hand under her shirt, touching her soft skin
God, I love the way she feels under my hands, against my own skin
Her fingers pull up my shirt and I move my arms helping her take it off
I take her shirt off, crashing my lips back to hers, pulling her right against me, feeling her against me
Slipping my hand underneath her shorts, I pull her pants and panties down, her hands pulling my pants and boxers down
When everything is off, I gently move her leg over my hip as she moves my length to her
She lets go when I push inside her, burying her hand in my hair
This time I slowly move inside her inch by inch, feeling her slowly open for me
The pleasure is fucking amazing
I've never felt this good going inside someone
She moans softly against my lips, pushing down on me as I get all the way in
I move my hand on her cute ass, holding her against me as I pull back slowly then move back in
So slowly
I can't help but moan at how astounding the pleasure is
Thrusting softly, she breaks our kiss, moaning softly
I just move my mouth to her neck, trailing kisses everywhere
I just need to feel her skin under my lips
I need it
Gently, I move her to her back and go top of her, her other leg wrapping around me
Her arm moves around my back, pulling me down against her
Fire floods every nerve when her fingers start moving up and down my back
God, just her touch is fucking amazing, making me feel good
Her other hand is on the bed by her head and I gently run my hand up her arm, lacing our fingers when our hands touch
She holds onto my hand tightly, making me smile against her shoulder, where I'm currently kissing
The next move inside her, she moves her hips, meeting me and making me go in so much deeper, my head against her spot
I whimper from the incredible feeling
Everything is feeling so much better than it ever has
I've never gone slow with anyone before, never knew that sex could be this good
Never knew that making love to someone was so pleasurable
I can feel every move, every pulse on my length, every time she takes me back in, how wet she is, how deep I move into her when her hips meet mine
But more than that, I can feel every single breath she takes, hear every moan or gasp of pleasure, feel every squeeze of my hand or on my back, feel her skin tremble under my lips, her sweaty skin against mine
And all this is giving me mind blowing pleasure
"Feels good jagi?"
"So good Kyunnie", she breathes
"Good baby. I want to make you feel good"
"You are Kyunnie. So good baby"
I'm glad
"Do you feel good?", she whimpers
"Yes jagi. Amazing baby", I answer
"Kiss me Kyunnie", she asks
"Always baby", I answer, then press my lips to hers
I will always kiss her
Whenever she asks
For as long as she wants
I feel her body start to shake under me
She's close
And so am I
I never came with someone before
Never at the same time
And I hope it happens now
Her spasms get faster and the next move starts her orgasm
Pure ecstasy hits me as her orgasm triggers mine
Her hand moves from mine to around my neck, into the back of my hair
I wrap mine around her, holding her against me and kissing her deeply
She throbs around me at the same time I do inside her, both of us coming on each other
This is the best orgasm I ever had, the best sex of my life
When it's over, we break the kiss, leaning my forehead against hers
Her gorgeous eyes move to mine, her hands cupping my cheeks
She lifts her head, kissing me gently, and I fall into her again
All these emotions are running through me and I pull back from her, just saying it
"I love you"
I do
After this, I know
I feel it
My feelings were even deeper than I thought
I'm still terrified but I can't hold it back
Shock enters her eyes and I expected that
Running my fingers in her hair, I look directly in her face and confess to her
"I completely didn't expect it but I'm completely in love with you"
She's still silent and it's making me nervous
Maybe I'm coming on too strong
Maybe I shouldn't have said love
Maybe that's scaring her
"I love you too Kyunnie", she says softly and my heart flies in my throat in hope
I knew she had feelings for me but I didn't know it was love
And I'm so fucking happy it is
"I... I loved you for a while. I guess the whole sleeping together thing affected me uh earlier than you", she says softly
"Why didn't you say something?", I ask
She looks away, "Because I knew you didn't feel that way. You still went out and was with other girls. And I'm not a fan of rejection. You're way out of my league"
That makes me raise my eyebrows
Is she fucking kidding me?
She has to be joking
"Joanne are you crazy? I am not out of your league. You're out of your mind"
"Stop it Kyun-"
"No jagi, listen to me", I tell her, "You are. You're so fucking beautiful. You're so caring even towards me even when it was just sex. You took care of me, made me food, kept the apartment clean and neat, helped me with hangovers, picked me up when I called you and was too drunk to know where I was. I had everything I ever wanted right here in front of me and I was too stupid to see it until I started to pretend to be your boyfriend"
I can see the hesitation in her face but I'm going to make it go away
"I don't deserve you jagi but I want you so much and I promise you I'm not going to stop loving you or showing you how much I do"
She smiles softly, "Ok Kyunnie. Show me. And I'll show you how much I love you. Every single day"
"Ok baby", I answer, a smile bursting on my face
"Ok", she answers and I pull her to me, kissing her
Her alarm goes off again and she breaks away from me to turn it off
"How long is your snooze?", I ask just realizing it took a really long time for her alarm to go off again
"Forty five minutes"
I raise my eyebrow, "Forty five minutes?"
She shrugs, "Sometimes I'm lazy and want to sleep more"
I laugh at how cute she is
"But I really have to get up now. I have fifteen minutes to throw clothes on and go to work"
I nod, "Ok. I'll drive you"
"Kyun"
"Stop arguing jagi. It's kinda getting old every day"
She laughs, "Ok fine. I'll stop whining"
"Good", I agree
I give her a quick kiss then let her get up
When she's done with the bathroom, I use it and after I put on a t-shirt, sweatpants and sneakers, sitting on the couch to wait for her
I have off today so I can go back to sleep after dropping her off
She comes out of her room dressed in a white lace cropped tank top, ripped black jeans and sneakers
She's a tattoo artist who doesn't have many tattoos
She has one black out sleeve tattoo that is so pretty on her
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"Ready Kyun?", she calls
"Yeah jagi", I answer, standing up, "You're not going to eat?"
"No time"
I laugh, "Ok, I'll drop you off then get you Starbucks"
"You don't-"
"No complaining", I scold
She sighs, rolls her eyes but smiles, "Fine, thank you"
I nod, then we leave the apartment
----------------------------------------------------
"Where are you?", she whines
"I'm coming Jo"
"You're taking too long and I'm tired"
"Oh poor baby", I tease
I can just see the cute grumpy face she's making
"I'll be there in a few minutes"
I'm meeting her at the park by her job to pick her up
I have a plan to take her on a date tonight
It's our first day together and I want to make it special
Yeah I'm head over heels for her
"You better"
"Cranky huh?"
"Yes"
Getting to the park, I slow down looking for her
"Where are you?"
"By the tree"
I burst out laughing, "Jagi, there's a million trees"
"It's the big one"
"Ok baby, I'll find you"
"Uh huh"
She's quiet for a few seconds, then I hear "Shit"
"Jo?"
I hear talking in the background
It sounds like a guy
"Nnn...no let go"
Fear hits me hard, "Joanne"
"Kyunnie!", she shrieks
Fuck
It's him
I should have told her to wait in the shop instead of the park
We've been so careful
If anything happens to her, I'll never forgive myself
As I drive, I keep my eyes open for her
I see him dragging her across the park and I see red
I pull over and park, not even bothering to shut the car off
Let someone steal the car, I don't fucking care
Getting out immediately, I run towards them as fast as I can, hearing him yell at her
"You need to talk to me! Just talk to me! You don't need that guy! We belong together! You don't belong with him!"
Yes she does
She belongs with me
We just got together and he fucking shows up, forcing her away from me
Not happening
Pushing myself to go faster, I finally reach them, ripping her arm from him and pushing her behind me
"Get the fuck off her!", I roar
"Kyun", she says, pulling on the back of my shirt
I can't stop
I don't know what he was going to do to her
Where he was going to take her
His creepy behavior has just been increasing and I wouldn't put it past him to hurt her
"Fuck off!", he yells at me
"Not a chance in hell. Don't fucking touch her again. Ever!", I shout, my blood boiling
"Or what? What are you going to do?", he mocks
"I'll fuck you up", I snarl
He scoffs, "I'm not scared of you. She is mine. She will always be. I won't stop until I have her back"
"Fuck", she whispers and I feel her hands shaking in my shirt
This asshole is terrifying her so much she's shaking
"You will leave her alone. She's with me and I'm not leaving her. You will never have her back!"
"I'll kill you", he snarls, "Then you won't be around to stop me"
He thinks I'm scared?
I'm not
I'm scared that he'll hurt her
Not me
"You couldn't kill me if you tried you fuck. I'm not scared of you. You'll never get near her again. Get the fuck over it and back off!"
"Fuck you!", he screams, pulling his arm back
I can't move because she's still behind me, so I take the hit to my face
My head snaps back and I feel blood flow from my nose, pain spreading on my face
"Changkyun!", she shrieks
"Move away jagi", I tell her
"No baby no", she cries
"Please jagi. I don't want you to get hurt", I beg, watching him come towards me again, "Please"
I feel her let go of me and I hope she moved away
He swings his arm but I back away in time, then throw my own punch, right into his temple, his head snapping to the side
He doesn't fall, instead he rights himself and runs at me
He tackles me and I hold my stance, refusing to fall over
If he gets on top of me it'll be hard to get him off
I've been in my share of fights before
Falling on your back is a sure fire way to get your ass kicked
I punch his body, in his ribs over and over, trying to get him to let go of me
He moves back, smashing his fist in my stomach
I double over in pain and then feel another hit to my eye, pain momentarily blinding me
He shoves me and I go down
Fuck
He grabs my tshirt, holding me up, his fist connecting with my mouth
I feel my lip get cut on my teeth, the pain sparking
Throwing my fist out, I hit him in the side of the head
He yells in pain but doesn't let go of me
I have to get up
Right now
He slams his fist into my forehead and temple again and again, pain taking over
I hear her screaming and crying to stop in the background
I can't
I won't let him get to her
I will protect her
"Hyun get off of him. Now!", she cries
He pulls his arm back high to hit me again
Fuck
His fist comes down when suddenly it stops inches from my face and his weight disappears off of me
What happened?
I get up immediately, horrified at the sight of her on top of him, trying to hold his arm back
"Stop Hyun, don't hurt him. Stop"
She...she stopped him
And shoved him off me
He's yelling at her to get off and I start moving towards them
To my horror, he punches her in her jaw then tosses her off him on to the grass as if she's a rag doll
She doesn't move, and I run to her immediately
"Jagi, oh my god. Jagi!", I cry
She doesn't answer, her eyes dazed and white hot rage fills my body
He hit my jagi
He hurt my baby
He's going to die
He's starting to get up and I'm torn between going after him and staying with her
When he starts coming towards me, I make the decision
I stand up and run towards him
This time I tackle him and he goes down
I punch him in the face hard
"You fucking hurt her!", I scream in his face, "You hit my baby. I'm going to fucking murder you!"
I'm so angry and I just keep hitting him over and over wherever my fist can land
I can't get the image of him punching her out of my head
The image of him tossing her
The pure rage I'm feeling doesn't die down
"Kyunnie no", I hear her voice, close to me
I feel her arm around me, her hand on top of my fist, stopping me from hitting him
"No Kyunnie, don't baby. You're going to kill him"
"Good. He fucking hit you", I growl
She shakes her head, holding my fist while her other hand turns my head to her, making me look at her
She's crying and she looks so scared
"Please don't Kyunnie. They'll take you away from me. They'll put you in prison if you kill him. Please baby don't", she sobs
Unlike him, I listen to her
I stop, nodding and pulling her in my arms, tears bursting from my eyes as I realize that I could have lost her
He could have taken her god knows where and I could have never seen her again
"We have to go Kyunnie. Now.", she whispers
I nod, "Ok jagi. Ok."
I look down at him
He's bloody and wheezing but I don't care
"Look at me", I growl
His eyes find mine and I see fear in his
Good
"If you ever come near her again, I will kill you. And she won't be here stop me"
I will kill him
If he tries again I will
Anything to protect her
"Disappear and never come back. Or I will make you disappear for good. Do you fucking understand?"
He nods, wheezing, "Yes. I'll go. I won't come back"
"You better not. Don't fuck with me. I will end your life"
"I won't. I'll leave her alone"
"You fucking better or you'll be sorry"
"Kyunnie please", she cries
He closes his eyes and I get up, taking her hand
She pulls me across the field back to the car, shoving me in the passenger seat
She gets in the driver's seat, turns the car on and peels away, flooring it
----------------------------------------------------
"This is going to swell", she says worriedly about my eye
Grabbing a towel, she sits next to me
"Kyun why did you do this?", she asks, holding the towel to my head wound
Using a tissue, she wipes the blood from my nose, then uses a clean one to wipe my split lip
"Because he has to know I'm not playing. He has to stay away from you. It's not an option", I answer
She shakes her head, "You didn't have to fight him to get him to stay away"
"Yes I did", I argue
"No", she says looking at me, "You didn't have to fight anyone for me. You didn't have to get hurt for me. I didn't want that. It's only been half a day that we've been together and you're already hurt"
I gently move her hand and the towel from my face
I put the towel on the coffee table, taking her hand
"Baby I would do anything for you. That's why I fought him. Because I can't stand to think of him hurting you. Or anyone hurting you but especially him. Thinking about him touching you, being around you, god it makes me so fucking angry. And when he hit you....my god I was going kill him. If you didn't stop me, I would have."
I touch her face, looking at the big dark purple bruise that formed on her jaw
It still gets me so angry seeing it
"I was never as scared as I was today. He could have taken you, he could have done anything to you and I would never forgive myself baby. And I would have done anything to find you. Anything"
I would have killed him
If she wasn't there to stop me, I would have beaten him until he died for hurting her
Then I would have been taken from her and never see her again
Thank god she was there and stopped me
She gently touches my face, smiling softly, "I know you would have Kyun"
"I want you to know that I will do anything for you Jo. Anything. And I will always protect you. You will always be safe with me. Always. Don't ever doubt that"
She shakes her head, "I won't baby. I promise"
"I love you so much", I tell her, wanting her to know that, "You're my everything jagi. You're my number one from today on"
"I love you baby. So much. I'll do anything for you too. You're my everything too. Always"
I'm so fucking happy to hear her say that
And I know that as long as she loves me, as long as she's by my side, I'll be happy
I lean towards her, my lips right against hers in a soft kiss
She kisses me back so gently as I pull her in my lap
Sliding my hands up her body, I slowly pull her tank top off, throwing it on the floor, then squeezing her breasts in my hands
I move my lips to her neck, pressing kisses down to her nipple
When I get there, I take it in my mouth, sucking softly, feeling it getting hard in my mouth
She moans loudly, her hand in my hair, tugging hard
My dick is already impossibility hard and I just want to be inside her
Pulling back, I move my hands to her jeans, undoing them
Moving off me, she stands as I pull everything down and she kicks them off
Her hands pull my shirt up while I get my sweatpants and boxers off
She climbs back on me and I hold my cock up so she can slide down on me
She does, getting me all in in one push, sitting on my lap, both of us moaning at the feeling of being together
My cock throbs inside her while her pussy, clenches me over and over, wetting my lap
"Baby", I whine, gripping her hips, starting moving her up and down my length slowly
God I just want to feel her and I don't want to wait anymore
She takes the hint and begins bouncing on me just like I want her too
Nice and slow
I get her nipple back in my mouth sucking slowly there too, my hand moving to her clit rubbing softly
Every since this morning, I just want to go slow with her and feel everything I can
Make love to her as much as I can
She shivers, her hands holding on to me as she moves
God the pleasure is so intense and I don't ever want it to stop
Her hips rock on me, my head rubbing her spot, her pussy completely leaking all over me
I switch nipples, playing and loving the feel of it in my mouth
Her hips shake as she orgasms, her pussy throbs crazily on me, my name falling from her lips
"Yes baby", I moan, her pussy giving me so much pleasure
When her orgasm ends, she pushes me back against the back of the couch, her lips on my neck, pressing dozen kisses on me
She bounces on me, her hands running in my hair and arm
"I love you so much Changkyun", she whispers in my ear, completely melting me
I never thought I'd hear a girl tell me she loves me and I'd completely love it
And want to hear it more, over and over
I grip her ass, softly thrusting into her, meeting her and moving in so deep
Oh god, it feels so fucking good
"My baby", she whispers, kissing me any where she can- my face, my cheek, my neck, my shoulder
And I'm eating it up
"My everything. I love you so much"
I whimper, feeling so fucking loved and wanted
"I love you Jo", I moan out
We keep moving together both of us getting closer, all the while whispering "I love yous" over and over again
I'm so completely happy, like I've never been before
Because the girl I love, loves me just as much
"Changkyun", she whispers as her orgasm starts, pressing her body rights against mine, spasming around my length perfectly
I go over the edge, holding her on me as insane pleasure runs all over me and I empty inside her
"I love you", I moan, holding her tightly
"I love you", she whispers back
I will never get tired of hearing that
After a few minutes, she moves off me, standing up and heading I guess towards the bathroom
Watching her leave, I noticed my cum leaking from her, all over her thighs and fuck I feel myself starting to get hard
I jump up going after her
Right before she goes into the bathroom, I grab her arm, pulling her behind me to my room
"Kyunnie, what-"
I pick her up, making her squeal, then throw her on the bed
"Kyunnie!", she giggles, watching me get on the bed with her, "Again?"
I nod, "Always. You're mine now jagi and I'm gonna fuck you all the time"
She smirks, opening her legs for me
"I'm good with that baby", she agrees, "So come on"
She doesn't need to tell me twice
I smile, lunging at her, listening to her giggles turn into moans
🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟
Four months later
"Jagi! Season two!", I yell, coming into the apartment
She sprints out of our room to the living room and on to the couch
"I got the snacks ready", she says while I grab the remote, sit next to her and put on Netflix
"Are you sure you want to watch it right now?"
I turn to her with wide eyes, "Of course jagi. Katherine is back and I need to know what happens"
She giggles so hard, hugging me to her, "Baby you're so funny"
Then she kisses me on the cheek, "And adorable"
"I try", I joke
"You don't have to try baby. You just are"
Moving my hand to the back of her head, I pull her to me, kissing her absolutely kissable lips
Everything has been fucking amazing with her
Hyun never came back
I'm guessing I scared him badly
Good
He better never come back if he knows what's good for him
After that day, we were both on high alert for a month
She wasn't out of my sight, except when we went to work
After a month of nothing, we started easing up
Everything is back to normal but we're still careful
I still keep an eye out everywhere we go just in case
I lay down, my head in her lap, her fingers immediately in my hair
This is how we usually watch the Vampire Diaries
I came home from work one day and she was watching it again
I asked her what she was watching and she explained everything while the episode was going on
I still didn't get it and told her I wanted to watch it
To say she was surprised is an understatement
But she agreed and we just finished the first season
I'm excited for the next season and yeah I'm a nerd
Whatever
My fiancee loves it
I look up at her to see her already smiling at me
I love her so fucking much
And the best thing is she loves me just as much as I love her
She softly strokes my cheek and I take her hand, kissing the back of it, the ring on her ring finger against my cheek
I asked her to marry me last week
I know it's quick but I know she's the one
She said yes, no hesitation at all
We already planned the wedding for next November and we're going to look at a venue tomorrow
I'm honestly the happiest guy alive
"Ready jagi?"
She nods, "Ready baby"
I press play on the remote and the episode starts
🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟
Bonus
Changkyun's proposal
"Where are we going now Kyunnie?", she laughs, her hand in mine as I lead her to the last part of our date
I decided to take her out on a date for our four month anniversary
I never in my life thought I'd celebrate a month anniversary
But from the first one, we have
It's normally just a date and ends up with us in bed all night
"Just c'mon jagi", I say, leading her down the side walk
We had a normal date, the new Spiderman movie and dinner
Nothing that special because I saved that for the end of the date
"The park baby?", she asks
I nod, "Don't you wanna go for a nice stroll with me?"
"Stroll? What are you from the nineteen hundreds?", she giggles
"Well I am a gentleman"
She raises her eyebrow
"Ok fine but I am one now though"
She nods, smiling, "Yeah I'll give you that"
She lets go of my hand, leaning into me instead, wrapping her arms around me
I move my arm around her, holding her close
We walk around the park for a little, while I find the spot I'm looking for
Finding it a few minutes later, I stop
"Everything ok?", she asks
I nod, moving in front of her
"Do you know where we are baby?"
She looks around, recognition in her eyes
"It's where Hyun grabbed me", she whispers, her eyes hard on me, "Why would you bring me here?"
I know it may be a bad idea but I want to make this spot a happy one instead of a scary one
"There's a reason why jagi ok. Trust me?"
Her gaze softens and she nods
I take a breath, reach in my pocket for the box
I slowly kneel, going down on one knee
"Changkyun, what-", she starts
I open the box and show her the ring I bought her
"Oh my god"
"I love you so much", I tell her, my eyes on hers, "I brought you here because it was here when I realized I can't live without you"
It was also the day I realized I love her, the day I confessed to her, the day we got together
"When I saw him try to take you, Jo, I was so scared. I couldn't handle never seeing you again. Just the thought...", I stop, "I can't. It's when I knew that not only did I love you, I couldn't see my life without you. I knew you were my one. And I know this may be really soon but I love you with all my heart. I will never stop. You are my forever, that I'm one hundred percent sure."
She gives me a soft smile, tears in her eyes
"Joanne, will you marry me?"
"Yes Changkyun", she immediately says, "Yes, yes, yes"
I stand up crashing my lips against hers
Our arms fly around each other, kissing each other deeply and passionately
She said yes
I honestly never felt this much joy in my life
She's going to be my wife
I'm going to be her husband
I'm getting married
I never thought I'd ever get married
That thought was so far from my mind, I only wanted to have fun
But now I know it's because I was waiting for her
My right girl
We pull away and I take the ring, sliding it on her finger
"Kyunnie, it's beautiful", she awes, then looks at me, "I love you so much Changkyun. Forever. I don't want to live without you either baby. You're my one and only. My everything."
I smile, her words making me feel so happy and so loved
I pull her to me, hugging her tightly, "You think this spot can be a happy one for us now?", I ask
"Definitely", she answers, her beautiful brown eyes on me, "You made it a happy place"
"I love you", she tells me
"I love you", I answer, "So much"
She leans towards me, kissing me softly
I kiss her back, holding the love of my life in my arms, so happy I have her
@rinastylesworld
@mingtina
@jijipiko
@urvashi435
@itsshaydeekaydee
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hello! can you write scenario for akashi, aomine, kise, and kagami where their s/o is jealous of all the attention they're getting from other girls?
awwww. adorbs! certainly ^_^ 🖤
Jealous S/O
Akashi
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It’s not a surprise that he was popular.
Akashi was smart, handsome, rich. Great at academics, and sports, and the youngest student council president in the history of Rakuzan. You didn’t believe in people being perfect, but if ever someone was going to get close it would be Akashi. He really lived up to the ‘Emperor’ nickname.
And what was an Emperor without his court.
“What’s wrong [Y/N]?” You look up from the pavement as you walked to class to see Akashi staring at you. His gaze focused, but soft & concerned. “You seem distracted.”
“Oh…it’s nothing.” You tuck your hair behind your ear. Prepared to let this go. Of course, Akashi wouldn’t let it though. He continued to stare at you until you finally broke down and told him. “It’s just them.”
The red head turned to look where you had jutted your chin towards the girls, huddled behind one of the pillars in the court yard whispering & staring, and your boyfriend let out a sigh. “Ah yes. Them.” He doesn’t seem surprised by their presence. Nor their borderline stalking. You should have guessed that he knew they were there. “I just choose to ignore them. However, if they are making you uncomfortable, I can order them to stop.”
You shook your head. You didn’t want to cause trouble. And although it was annoying, you didn’t want to break another girl’s heart over their rejected feelings. “It’s not a big deal. It’s the burden of dating the ‘Emperor’ I guess.” His lips scrunch. Though the nickname stuck over time, you know he doesn’t actually care for that title. “I just feel a little bit like one of those women in a historical K-drama. You know, like someone is waiting in the wings to knock me off so they can take my place near the emperor.” Sometimes you kind of feel like I should start checking my lunch for poison or glass.
Akashi scoffed a little. Then leaned in to kiss your cheek. “That’s never going to happen.” He assured you. “My heart belongs to only you. And, if anyone were to hurt you, I’d gouge their eyes out.”
Perhaps it’s poor form to giggle at such a threat, but you do. He really was so protective of you. You really had no reason to be jealous, because no one was going to take Akashi away from you.
You continue on your way to class. The ‘court’ suspiciously hanging back more than usual after that day.
Aomine
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The street ball court was a buzz as usual whenever Aomine played.
His ‘quick game’ with the challenges on the court had turned into a full basketball brawl that had lasted for hours. One-on-one after one after another.
Not that you minded. Watching Aomine play, and seeing him happy, was always thrilling. He always looked so cool when he played; giving his all, even against weaker players. You chuckle to yourself. He really was a terrible guy to take such joy in crushing people. But then what did that say about you when you were so turned on by it?
“That dark skin guy is so hot! Do you think he’s foreign?”
You turn away from the court to a gaggle of girls, some your age, some older, watching the game as well from the side lines. Some had noticed the game and come to watch. Others had come with their own boyfriends. You frown a little as they continue to whisper and gush over your boyfriend. Getting moodier by the second.
“Yo, what’s up?” You look up from glaring at the lines on the court; just in time to see Aomine place his ball he was holding in one hand against your head. “You look pissed. Are you not having fun?”
“Not really.” You confess, batting his hand away. You weren’t having fun now. He was talking to you, but those girls still couldn’t take their eyes off them. “Can we go now?”
“What?? But things are just getting started.” He lifted his shirt up as he whined to wipe the sweat from his brow and you could practically hear the siren like squeals from those thirsty ass bitches.
“I don’t like the crowd here.”
Aomine seemed to catch on, and looked to the side to see who was annoying you. You have to assume he expected to see some guy making you uncomfortable, based on his expression, but looked surprised when he saw it was just a bunch of girls; totally playing it off like they weren’t staring at him a moment ago. “What can I say babe? I can’t help it if girls think I’m super hot and junk.” His cockiness and smirk were not attractive at the moment.
You continue to pout, but just long enough for Aomine to lean in and give you a peck on said pout. “Let me kick this guys ass and then we can go. ‘Less you wanna stick around and make ‘em jealous back. We can do gross couple stuff until they get weirded out and leave.”
You chuckle again at the offer. Appreciating the gesture he was trying to make. “Go play your game and then we can go. If we’re going to do ‘gross couple stuff’, I’d rather do it in private where we can enjoy it.”
Aomine gave you a big grin, followed by a loud, “yes ma’m!”
Of course, he slaughtered the guy in the next game. Leaving him to sulk off back to his own girlfriend; who was indeed in the pack and not looking too happy about it. You both leave after that to finish your date. Aomine proud as a peacock for the rest of the afternoon from the ego boost.
Kise
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It was hard, dating a model.
You knew of Kise’s profession before you started dating, of course, but you had no idea how hard it would be on your relationship.
Girls stopped him every chance they got to ask for his autograph, or gush over his new photobook. He of course was courteous and polite. Turning on that model charm. He always thanked them for their patronage of his work and they promised to always support him. It had been bad before, but ever since his game was televised this past season, it had grown into a circus. Not only was he the beautiful blonde-haired boy they all admired, but now he was also the super-hot jock they all drooled over. You could barely go out on a proper date anymore without being accosted by some female vying for his attention.
“[Y/N]-cchi, what’s wrong? You look upset.”
“This is ridiculous!” You told him, and you weren’t just talking about his huge sunglasses & stupid hat he was wearing to try and be ‘incognito’. It wasn’t working even a little bit, so now it was just doubly stupid. “Why can’t they leave you alone for 10 minutes?!”
“They’re my fans [Y/N]-cchi. I can’t disappoint them!”
“Right. Don’t disappoint them. Why don’t you hang out with them today then?” You mutter sullenly. Prepared to leave.
Kise seemed to realize what was going on, and just how upset you were, as he reached out to grab you hand. “I don’t want to hang out with them [Y/N].” You turn back around when he said your name like a real person. Not the cute little way he did it as part of his act. “I don’t want anyone else but you. They only like me because I’m handsome and a model.” Humble too, you think to yourself. “They don’t really care about me. You do! I don’t want to lose that. Please forgive me.”
He did genuinely look hurt, and you have to believe that he meant it. You sigh. It wasn’t totally Kise’s fault. “It’s alright Ryouta.” You tell him. He seemed to perk up a little at that. “If you could maybe not lay it on so thick for them in the future, I would appreciate it.”
“Of course [Y/N]-cchi!” He cheered with a beaming smile. Already back to his normal self. “I’d do anything for you!”
It doesn’t stop of course. But Kise kept true to his word and politely asked to be left in peace. Most respected that. Some weren’t as understanding of his needs. You just appreciated that he was trying to keep them at bay. Fangirls were weird.
Kagami
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After practice, you and Kagami went to Maji Burger, as per usual. And, as per usual, people were staring at your table.
Most of the time they were staring at the loud, tall teen scarfing down his body weight in hamburgers. Amazed at his own personal eating contest. However, more recently, the people staring were girls from your school who had also come here. And they were staring at Kagami only.
He was completely oblivious to it, but Kagami was actually really popular; even before Serin started wining so much. He was tall, athletic, built. He’d come from America, which was so cool for a lot of the students around here. Plus, he had this whole ‘bad boy basketball star’ vibe going. If they only knew how much of a sweet heart he really was. Actually, scratch that. If they knew that would only make it worse.
“Hey, what’s up [Y/N]? You’re not eating. Do you not like your food?”
You look up from your own, normal portion on the tray, then back down as you play with your food. “It’s just hard to eat when people are staring.”
Kagami blinked. Then looked around to see what you were talking about. “I don’t see anybody.”
“Of course you don’t….” You mutter under your breath. He never did.
“What does it matter?” He asked. “It’s not like I can stop people from looking at me. They have eyeballs. It’s a free country.”
“That’s not the point Kagami. It’s not that they’re looking at you. It’s the fact that they’re looking at you.” You’re trying to be discrete here, but subtle or discretion never really got through to Kagami. “They wanna fuck you.”
Kagami choked on his burger halfway devoured in his mouth. “Don’t say that!” He scolded you. Once he’d recovered from his near-death experience.
“Well, it’s true. Maybe that’s a bit much, but they definitely look at you that way, and it’s annoying.”
“How can you even tell?”
“Because it’s how I look at you.” You muttered under our breath again. Fidgeting with our soda straw to avoid eye contact.
Kagami heard you again though and now you were both blushing in the booth. “Well…the only one I’m interested in looking at me that way is you.” He muttered back. “The only one I’m interested in looking at that way is you.” His leg moved forward under the table to touch yours. Simple, secret, intimate.
You smile softly as you realize it was stupid to be jealous. Kagami had no guile. He was honest to a fault, which was another of his amazing qualities. He genuinely didn’t see those other girls because he was only focused on you. So let them stare. There was no way they were going to take him away from you.
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infinitegalahad · 3 years
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Hi! Request with prompt “i’m not jealous!” “you’re clearly jealous.” With nixon please? I love jealous nix! Lol 💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙 You’re the best!!!
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WASHING MACHINE HEART
Prompts: "I'm not jealous!" and "You're clearly jealous"
Gif Credit: @andrewhaldane
Summary: Nothing ever lasts forever, everybody wants to rule the world. You are pretty much the only person who could change the way Lewis operates, and that's exactly what you do-change him.
Word-Count: 4.8k
WARNINGS!!!: semi-not healthy relationship, alcohol abuse, investment to lovers, sugar daddy/baby, semi-age gap (21-28?), a
Notes: Life lesson learned. Never listen to Mitski or Lana Del Rey when having thoughts about Lewis Nixon being your sugar daddy? Why you may ask? Because it will destroy you. This request was so fun to do, thank you op! I haven't written for Nixon before, so I apologize if he's a little too OOC. Also warning, this is defiantly not the most healthiest relationship, and I realize that. But they try to make it work. Also while writing this, I listened to @web-gott's lewis Nixon playlist and all of her playlists r GREAT BUT THAT DESTROYED ME. great job ily. anyways enough rambles! enjoy!
Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @now-im-a-belieber @50svibes @ricksmorty @pennyllanne @ask-you-what-sir @web-gott
Masterlist | Send In A Prompt!
“You want me to be you’re what?”
Nearly spitting out drinks, Vat 69 mixed with vodka (A Nixon classic). It was quite a bizarre offer. Maybe Lewis had drunk too much, which was a common habit. But you made eye contact with him and he had a shit eating grin on your face. You let out an awkward laugh, and he followed suit.
You had been Lewis’s assistant operations officer since Caretan, there with him through a demotion, a divorice, and all of the other wonderful things that happened in his life. Not only was he your boss, but someone you confided in. He would confine in you, you would confide in him with stolen alcohol-it was a perfect example of mutualism. It’s as if you were his therapist at first, then a friend, and then a friend with benefits. Everything was kept under wraps, of course, for both of you to honor your diginites. Besides, you wouldn't wanna tarnish Lewis’s relationship with your father-considering that he was his boss, a Major general for the 101rst Airborne Division.
“A confidante. Companion. Confrère.” Nixon explained as he poured more vodka into your empty cup, which was not a good sign, “Miss Nixon won’t leave her baby boy alone. If I show her I have someone on my arm, she’ll shut up.”
“So let me get this straight. I go back home with you to New York, attend a party with you, be your arm candy, and you pay me?” You summarized his point, swimming the drink in your hands.
“Money, gifts, whatever you want, I can give you,” Lewis promised. He leaned against the railing as you looked at him. Your elbows grazed against each other. Resting your chin on your palm, you went deep into this arrangement.
The war had ended in The Pacific, so you could finally go home. As much as you were excited to leave and finally get back home, you’d miss Nixon. Sure, you’d be in Bronxville and he’d be Manhattan, only a train ride apart. Yes, he was a total asshole, but he was your asshole. The two of you had been together through thick and thin. Your parents would never approve of an alcoholic divorcee, but there was something inside of him that made you fill up with nervous excitement.
You could hear your mother’s voice, scolding you about the type of man Lewis was. Maybe he was a little too old, a little too broken, and a little too much for you, but that’s what attracted you to him. Over time, you learned that you and Nixon had much more in common. Both of you wanted to get away from your families. Hell, Nixon was paying for your college tuition at Sarah Lawenrece and when he had a weekend pass into Paris, you would come. For “work purposes”, but in all honesty it was for fine dining in Paris, shopping for the finest things in Champs-Élysées with Nixon, arm in arm wrapped under your finley manicured finger, and learning more about Miss Nixon’s best boy.
It was hard to let go of that. Everything he had done for you, and yet you were just friends with benefits. Still, after all you have gone through. It frustrated you. But after his divorce, you wanted to support him. He had lost everything, and without Dick, he was probably more lonely and hurt than ever. You wanted to be his comfort besides Vat 69. This arrangement could be an opportunity for the both of you. Maybe it would be more than an arrangement, but something bigger than that.
Lewis nudged your elbow as he raised a thick eyebrow, “Well, whatta’ say?”
“I say, why the hell not?” You accepted the offer, and the two of you clinked your drinks together. “So would we call this an arrangement? Be the pretty thing on your shoulder and you give me pretty things? Just like in Paris?”
“Just like Paris.” He reassured you, patting your shoulder. Sitting on a bench, he patted the spot next to you with his arm stretched out. “Sit with me?”
“Why I’d be honored too, good sir!” You dramatically stated for a comedic effect, which earned a smile from Lewis as you sat down right next to him. Moving close, both of your thighs caressed with each other. He adjusted and moved his free arm around you, bringing you close to him. You responded by laying your head on his chest, along with one of your hands.
Lewis didn’t say much besides drinking more from his cup, which kept getting refilled and gouged in seconds. There was a cold silence that filled the air. You kept adjusting in his hold, craving for that attention that wasn’t crude jokes or touch, but it always flew over his head. As he got lost in what the hell he was going to when he was home and the alcohol that poured in his system, you laid on his chest, waiting for that kiss, even though you knew that it wasn’t happening.
You closed your eyes as you laid there, pretending that Lewis was more than an arrangement for you.
The thing was, Lewis wasn’t dumb. He knew that too, but he didn’t know how to put it in words, so he used what he knew who to use best-money and gifts. Just as you always did.
~
A month after you had set up the arrangement, the two of you returned home. He went back to Manhattan, you went to Boxnville to attend Sarah Lawernce. Two months later, the week before you’re to head off to see your family in Florida, Nixon finally chooses to call you. After he ignores all your calls, letters, everything-he finally chooses to be a man. It doesn’t even feel like a relationship, which is what you wanted it to be. All of the effort you have made has gone to waste. Lewis looks as if he wants to keep it in an arrangement.
Normally, you’d appreciate the cash and all the lavish gifts, but money didn’t buy happiness.
His offer was simple. The Nixons were throwing a party at the Tribeca Rooftop, and it was bound to be full of every socialite in the Tristate area. Lewis asked for you to accompany him for the weekend. Separate rooms if you wanted, all of the dinners paid for by him, in exchange he gets arm candy and you get all the money you need. You considered using it to pay for rent, but after all-Lew was paying for everything, despite there being ignored communication.
It was hard to pass, and you were frustrated. But despite it all, you took up the offer. It was better than being stuck with your parents.
Once you accepted the offer, Lewis drove his Buggati down to Bronxville to pick you. You lived in a cramped apartment with a bunch of other Journalism majors. Seeing him outside of the window, you opened your window and waved.
“Look at what the devil dragged in.” You spat with a smile.
Lewis looked up at you, wearing those damn aviators he got in Austria. They had also been the ones that you had picked up for him, so it must have been sentimental.
“There you are,” He said, leaning against his car, “You coming?”
“Give me a minute!” You called and closed your window. Grabbing your keys and bag, you walked out of your room and towards the exit, only to see all of the girls who lived in your apartment ushered, admiring whatever the hell Nixon was to you. A friend, a sugar daddy, you truly had no idea.
One of the girls turned her head back to you, smirking as he leaned against the doorframe, “So, you’re the lucky one?”
You looked at her, slipping your boots on and tying them, “For?”
“A weekend in the city with a man who’s got money. Fancy dinners, fancy things, almost anybody would want it,” She explained, a tint of jealousy in her voice, “Just don’t come back pregnant.”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” You confirmed. Once you finished getting your coat on, you waved goodbye to your flatmates, who all begged for you to bring nice things back to you, and even a man for them. The thought you made it chuckle, since they were truly all naive to what it was really like to be treated as an investment.
Walking down the stairs, you were greeted by Lewis, slouched on the front of the car and upon seeing you, straightened up. He began to walk towards you, and so do you. For once, he had cleaned himself up and looked like he was taking care of himself. It took you by surprise when he pulled you into a one armed hug, wrapping around your neck. You met with his chest, taking in his expensive cologne.
“Hey,” He mumbled into your shoulder as he held you close. Maybe for warmth, you thought. “I missed you.”
The cold layer you had felt upon seeing Lewis again had suddenly melted away. Normally, he wasn’t so sentimental. He was sarcastic and witty, but this time-he was different. Kinder, softer, just a little sadder. You put a hand up his armpit, also holding him close.
“Guess I did too,” You responded back. Breaking from the hug, the two of you looked at each other. You chuckled to yourself, not really knowing how to fill the silence.
“I’m glad you took up the offer, by the way.” Nixon added on. It made you look up and shrug your shoulders.
“It’s not like I wanna see my family.” Your shoes moved around on the icy ground, swishing the ice to the side. You were happy to see him, but there was just something about Lewis that was always sad. The same could be said about you, but he looked exhausted. Drained, emotionally and physically.
“Yeah, me either. But you make it tolerable,” Lewis said as he took your bag out of your hands, putting it on the back seat. The two of you got into his car. Before he started the car, Lewis threw a velvet case at you. You were taken by surprise and looked at him.
“Open it,” Lewis nudged his head.
Puzzled, you carefully opened the case and smiled. It was the Willsonite sunglasses, the tinted tortoise shell ones you had seen in Austria when roaming the streets with Lewis.
“It’s what all the girls in the city wear,” Lewis explained. He had picked out his gift with precision and care. Normally, all the girls would buy sunglasses for cheap at a stand at the beach, but hell-you were with the Lewis Nixon after all.
You put on the sunglasses and turned to Lewis, the glasses gently sliding down the bridge of your nose. “Is this your apology for neglecting me?”
Lewis leaned back, looking regretful. “I sent money, I sent the Mademoiselle perfume every month, I’m taking care of you-”
“That’s not what I want. I don’t-” You let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of your nose. It was easy to get angry, but you contained yourself, trying to hide your anger. “I love the gifts, but I want one thing. You. I want to actually spend time with you.” You bit your lip, and the only reason you were going to say it was to keep Lewis, “I’m supposed to be your arm candy, aren’t I?”
“You’re more than arm-candy to me, y/n. I enjoy your company. You’re a great kid.” Lewis began to explain his case. His sunglasses fell down his face, revealing the eyebags, “I didn’t want you to know that I went to rehab.”
“What do you mean? That’s all I wanted for you.”
“I know-it’s just. It wasn’t pretty, and you’ve got a lot going through you. I didn’t wanna drag you down with me.”
Guilt tugged at your head. The last thing you wanted to do was make Lew feel guilty. The only way the arrangement was going to work is if Lewis got the help he needed. He repressed his problems, and you were stubborn and weren’t going down with a fight.
“Lew,” You cooed as you put your hand on his. He looked at you as you inhaled and exhaled, “I don’t give a shit about whether it was pretty or not. I’m just glad you’re getting help. Take the worry off of my back. I care, y’know.”
Lewis put his hand on top of yours and his dark eyes connected with yours. He looked deep into your soul as you sat there, a smile on your face. It was your motto to just sit and act pretty. It was backwards, but If it was for Lewis, then it had to work.
“You make everyday worth living.”
You were unable to respond, frozen. The ice barrier that you surround yourself with had melted away. The one thing in your mind was a kiss. It seemed appropriate. As you began to slowly lean forward, not to scare him away, Lewis removed his hands and put them on the wheel as he began to back out of the parking lot. You sat there, your hands once we’re Lewis rested.
“Let’s have a good weekend, okay?” Lewis says, and you clench your hands together. Putting on a smile, you put on the facade of the arm candy. It’s all a part of the game.
“I’d like that a lot,” You commented and moved towards the window. Putting your sunglasses back on, it earned a smile from Lewis as he drove the car. Now both you matched.
“I like those on a lot,” He complemented, “They bring out the shape in your face.”
You moved them down, winking at him. “My oh my. Someone’s coquettish today.”
The two of you chuckled as you drove down the road. As you merged onto the highway and saw the traffic, you made a polite request.
“Can we go down the west side highway instead of the FDR please? It gets down to Tribeca faster.”
“Sure,” Lewis said, his hand resting on the wheel. “Anything for little miss/mister y/n.”
You leaned against the window and smiled to yourself. You should’ve been happy, you had everything you ever wanted.
But the one thing-Lewis’s love.
~
Lewis’s apartment in Tribeca was wonderful, located on the top floor of the most expensive building in the city with glorious paintings, velvet chair, and a built-in fireplace and bar. For such a large place, it was empty, all besides his Daschuand puppy named Pepper. He got the dog since he felt lonely, but made your heart twitch. He let you choose whatever room you wanted, despite the look in his eyes. So, you choose to sleep with him in the master bedroom.
That night, you expected Lewis would want to have sex, but he wasn’t in the mood. Normally, that’s what it was. Fucking and money. But Lewis had changed. He just felt you close in bed, and the two of you walked about mundane things. Pepper, of course, slept in the bed since she was Nixon’s little girl. You fell asleep in his arms, and enjoyed the change of the pace.
The next morning, Lewis took you down to a restaurant on the water. When ordering drinks, he asked for a bloody mary-virgin. You ordered a mimosa-virgin as well.
“You realize that’s just orange juice, right?” Lewis commented as you leaned over the table.
“And you’re drinking raw tomato juice,” You snarked back, which made Lewis smirk. You saw the change in him from yesterday and today. So, you decided to question further. “So, did you quit?”
“Trying. Whenever I think of doing it, I think of you, throwing out every single bottle in my cabinet and threatening to leave me. And I don’t want that, so go figure.”
Under the table, Lewis’s legs crossed and held the ankle of your foot. You felt your cheeks grow pink, grasping onto the napkin on your nap.
“Why me by the way? Think about it. You’re a hermit socialite, I’m a college student. Those two don’t click well together,” You itched the back of your neck.
Lewis looked at you, his leg itching up your ankle. He thought you were joking as he furrowed his thick eyebrows. He stopped, straightening his posture. “Well you, my dear, are someone that isn��t easy to forget. I like making you happy. Also, who else would be paying your rent and tuition?”
“Myself.”
“Waste of money.” Lewis threw his hand up to shrug off the matter, “Where’s the fun in that?”
The waiter came over and put your drinks down. Lewis gave the waiter a thank you as you laughed to yourself. He was really good at playing his role.
“Y’know, you’re good at this stuff. The whole sugar daddy thing,” You let out a snort, taking a sip at your drink.
“I like making others happy. That’s what money does. Not for yourself, but others. When I take you shopping and I see your eyes light up, that’s what makes me happy,” Lewis acknowledged. The two of you looked at eachother. Not in that joking way, but it was romantic. Sweet. He loved to see you happy, and you loved to see him sober. It worked.
“Also, wherever you wanna go today, I’ll take you. But I do have one rule.”
“And what is it?”
“We stop at Lord and Taylors. I have another surprise in store.”
~
The surprise in store turned out to be an outfit for the Nixon’s party. It was nothing too flashy, but regal enough to make you feel like you were out of a fairytale. His goal was to make you the belle of the ball, and he never failed to under the assignment.
Nixon's party was what you expected it to be. Awkwardly meeting Lewis’s parents and his mother giving you a death glare, seeing the dark haired solicates drink, a jazz band, and the best part of the party-Blanche. She was the only one besides Nixon without a stick up her ass. Most of the party you and Nixon were arm in arm. You would occasionally lean against him, yearnin for his attention, but he’d be too busy with the supply of Vat 69.
You had that feeling in your gut, and it wasn’t a good one. It made you sick, anxious, nervous-all around horrible. The more he drank, the more the pit in your stomach would drop. So you went outside onto the patio to catch some fresh air, to be alone and stroll around. Hell, you were even wearing Nixon’s jacket and clutching to it like a child to it’s comfort blanket.
Strolling across the patio and watching the skyline, your moments of peace were interrupted by the distant yellings coming from a room with an open door. You walked down the line, realizing that the voice was Nixon’s.
“An escort at this party? Lewis, you usually disappoint me, but this is unacceptable!” An older gentleman cried, setting down his scotch.
“Do you see the way they were dressed! What a vixen…” A woman cried, who you presumed to be Miss Nixon herself.
“There is nothing like that. They chose to come-”
“Stop lying to yourself. Someone of that age and you, someone with money, is a recipe for disaster. How much do you pay them to accompany you?”
The words kept breaking your heart. You leaned against the window, as fishguard as you were, listening to every single world.
Under pressure, Lewis threw his hands up, “Fine. You know what? You’re right. I pay for what y/n wants. To make them happy and for them to accompany me. They are nothing more than an investment to me.”
Those words cut like ice, like a bullet to the heart. A hand wrapped around your mouth as he pushed away and began to walk away, unable to listen to another word. An investment! How pathetic you felt to think that after all this time, everything you had been through together, everything he had brought you was all for nothing. Just like you had been told, Nixon was using you for your youth or as a way to cope with his many divorces.
Naturally, you would have felt like running out of the place and getting on the next train to Bronoxville, never seeing Nixon again. But there was anger in your heart that burned brighter than any fire you had seen. The ice surrounded your heart once more. It was a party, after all. And you didn’t want to leave without leaving a mark. After all, you 're a vixen.
Long story short, you stormed back into the party and met another young soilciate. Typical asshole with too much money and his way paid into an Ivy League. You didn’t even catch his name as the two of you conversed, and he kept the alcohol pouring. The two of you sat on a couch, and he eventually cozied up to you, wrapping an arm to pull you close. Just as he was on the topic of bringing you to Montauk to the summer, Nixon, of course, had come by.
“Hey, smartass. What the hell are you doing?” Nixon spat, the alcohol evident in his voice.
Smartass was now his name, and you couldn’t even remember it. Smartness looked up at Nixon, shrugging, “Talking to this pretty little thing. Why don’t you go back to drinking and ruining your family name?”
That comment was enough to make Nixon throw a punch, once again bring shame to his family, and get the two of you kicked out of the party. Lewis tried to talk to you, but you ignored every word he said until you reached the apartment.
“What is your problem?” Nixon asked, closing the apartment door. You threw off his jacket, throwing it onto the ledge of the loveseat.
You let out a snort at his unbelievable behavior. He acted as if he did nothing wrong.
“Are you serious? What is your problem!” You hissed back, “You can’t control yourself in drinking, let alone with me hanging out with other men. Face it, you’re just some spoiled , jealous, alcoholic.”
Lewis ignored all of those other comments and chose to focus on the most petty of them. “I’m not jealous!”
“Ha! You clearly are!” You quickly quipped back, walking towards him as he pointed your finger at his chest. “Look at you! Getting all angry, throwing punches. Just for a little investment! After all, I’m just what you use when you need a distraction from all of your other life problems. Just like all of your failed marriages.”
Your eyes began to feel watery and you spun around, biting your lip as he attempted to hold it together. This hurts more than you wanted it to, and no matter what you did, the waterworks wouldn’t stop.
Despite being drunk, Lewis could sense what he did was wrong, and he fucked up-bad. He was drunk, frustrated, and had no control of what he was doing.
“Y/n, I didn’t mean that.”
“Like I mean anything to you,” You sniffled, wrapping your arms around yourself, “The only reason I came was because I wanted...something more than an arrangement. I, fuck-love you, damnit.”
There was a silence in the room, and you felt cold. Goosebumps trailed all over your body as you bit your lip to contain your sobs. Suddenly, a pair of arms held your shoulders and turned around. Knowing it was Nixon, you wanted to punch him, but your head fell into his chest as you let out a long sigh.
He rested his head in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you close to his warm body.
““I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that but yeah, I love you too.” Nixon said into your hair, drawing circles into your back. “How mad would you be if I kissed you?”
“Absouetly fucking furious.” You tilted your head up as Nixon grabbed your chin, and your lips collided. It was a beautiful and messy lip with lounges smearing against each other. The messier it got, the more passionate it was. Eventually, the kiss calmed into a fiery disaster into a slow moving dance. Through the kisses, you let out a moan, which made Nixon’s hand go lower down your back. You separated from the kiss to catch some air.
“Why’d you stop, my dear?”
You playfully slapped his chest, “You’re lucky you’re hot. Can we go to bed, please?”
The older man swooped you and carried you to bed, treating you like the royalty you were. Once you were placed in bed with Penny by your side, Lewis crawled in next to you, holding you close.
“That’s why I asked you to come, y’know. I wanted to tell you, but I thought you’d say no.”
“For someone so smart, you don’t pick up on cues. Lewis Nixon, I love you, but you’re an idiot sometimes.”
“I’m your idiot, dollface.” Nixon smiled, leaning his forehead against yours. You felt his body weight onto you as you patted his shoulder, giggling.
“Have you ever thought about how much worse our lives would be without each other?”
Lewis pressed little kisses into your hair before stopping his kissing parade to stare at you. He moved the bangs from your face, letting his hand rest on your skin. “The world could be on fire and I'd still be happy as long as I'm with you.”
Once again, Lewis brought you close and the two of you made passionate love. It wasn’t out of frustration or anger or a distraction, but it was raw, genuine, and emotional. It was all you ever asked.
~
A patterned knock on the door prompted you to stop unpacking the books from your book and to call, “Come in!”
Turning around, you saw Lewis walk in, along with Penny, who was scrambling in on her tiny feet.
“Well look at what the cat dragged in.” You smirked, and Lewis threw his arms up. He held a photo in his hand. You returned to putting the last of your textbooks on your desk, gently patting them down.
“How’s the unpacking going?” Lewis asked as he picked up Penny, who was squirming to attack your face with kisses. You walked over and gave both Penny and Lewis a quick peck. You admired your brand new Burkburnett Desk with Hutch. Photos, memorabilia from Europe, books, and pencils decorated your desk for school.
“Good. Turns out, living in a penthouse is a thousand times better than being a dormitory.” You said, leaning your shoulder against Lew’s as you played with Penny’s floppy ears. After some decision, Lewis had made your relationship official, but to both of your parents distaste. Your parents thought Lewis was a creep, his parents thought you were vixens. As Lewis said, the thanksgiving we're going to be interesting. So Lewis decided that you should move in with him, which you didn’t reject. Tribeca wasn’t that far from Bronoxville.
“Good girl/boy. I’m glad you already like it here.” Lewis cooed into your ear, placing a tender peck. “I got an addition for your desk.”
Lewis pulled the photo and showed you. A smile appeared on your face as you took the beautiful frame. It was a black and white photo of you and Lewis, having dinner on top of the Refinery Rooftop. Both of you had your hands together on the table, smiling as the sun set in the sky. Despite there being no colors, it was a breathtaking photo.
“I know just where to put this.” You breathed, walking towards your deck. Right next to your light and glasses was where the photo went. Next to it, a photo of Lew holding a two week old Pepper, a gift from Blanche. More like Blackmail according to Nixon, but you didn’t care. “There. Perfect. Now I’m all moved in.”
Lew snuck up behind you, snaking his hands around your waist as he rested his head on your shoulder. You leaned back with a subtle smile, putting one of your hands on his own.
“Since you’re here to stay, I was thinking of dining in tonight. Blanche’s coming over too.”
“She is?” You hummed.
“Yup. I Want to see the new place, since you came in and cleaned it up.” Lewis mumbled, “How does that sound?”
“That sounds great. Just peachy, Lew.”
You and Lewis fell in love during the war. You were there for eachother in your worst moments and pulled each other up when you both needed it most. But nothing is ever easy in life. You fight. It’s rough. You fight, breakup, kiss, and makeup. With Lewis’s recovery and your family disowning you, the path down the road won’t be easy. You know that you and Lew will face thousands of hardships, but it’s ok. You have each other, and it’s not perfect at all. But it works, and that’s all that matters.
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Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale
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An Advent Calendar Of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby
Day 17: Spawn Baby Has Needs
Warnings: Smut (18+) and Bad Language Words
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader
A/N: I can’t believe how far along @what-is-your-plan-today​, @jennmurawski13​ and I have come with this and we’re getting closer to Christmas Eve! I hope you all have enjoyed this journey with Ransom and Pregnant!Reader as much as we have. 
Series Masterlist
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“Fuck your so hot like this.” Ransom muttered in your ear as he thrusted into you, both of you laying on your sides. Your leg was hiked over his thigh, he was using his leg as leverage to keep you spread for him, his arm draped over the swell of your belly while his fingers teased between your swollen petals. He admired the way you arched back into his chest, your eyes screwed shut while your mouth dropped in a silent cry, but quickly picked up volume the harder and faster he pressed his cock into your weeping channel. 
“Ransom, Ransom I need to-” You cried you, your hands scrambling for purchase on anything. Reaching for his forearm wrapped around your belly, you dug in, slightly gouging his skin. “- oh fuck, please, please.” 
“Come, I can feel you’re ready Princess.” He sucked against your neck, leaving a mark blossoming against the arch of your neck. You pulled a pillow against your face, biting it while screaming into it when a particular hard thrust left you tipping over the edge, your orgasm tightening your body while shimmers of light edged with black around your vision, and Ransom kept slamming his hips into you from behind, feeling you come all over his cock and sought his own ending. 
“Thatta girl, looking so good coming apart.” He praised, which made your clench around him all over again, and the tightening in his gut signaled that he was close. When he came, stuttering to a jerking stop, feeling his own rush through his quivering muscles, he latched around you to hold you close, his face pressed in against your shoulder with a yell. 
You were humming now while loosening the pillow, enjoying the aftermath of sex. You smoothed your hand against his arm wrapped around your stomach, breathing in deeply when you felt Ransom stir behind you and pull out from you. 
“Mmhh.” You hummed while Ransom placed a few kisses down your neck and you both shifted. Ransom moved to his back and you sat up to lay on your other side to face him. Ransom was still clearly enjoying the post orgasm, as he had a smile stretched on his face, and his head was tipped back with closed eyes. 
“How are you feeling Kitten? Better?” He finally asked, and you nodded, stretching a bit. It was just what you had needed, the uncomfortable feeling had eased. It wasn’t necessarily pain, just discomfort when Ransom suggested a good fuck might cure it. Maybe you had to listen to him more often. 
“Better, Who would have thought the reason I’m in this mess is what would make me feel better. I’m really thirsty though.” you happen to say while cuddling a bit into Ransom who pulled away suddenly. “Ransom, where are you going?” You ask while he tugs on a pair of sweats and turns around to kiss your forehead. 
“Just gonna go get you a drink. Juice, some flavored water? What are you in the mood for?” He questioned. 
Turning to your back, and pulling up the sheet around your waist. “Mmhh, orange juice. There is an unopened container in the door. And peanut butter, that kind with the jelly swirled through it?” 
Ransom winced at your request, his hands falling to his waist and a tilt of his head leaving his hair flopping over his forehead in that way that made you bite your lip, your toes curling. 
“That it? No other weird shit like usual?” His eyes glinted in the low light of the bedroom, the corners crinkling a bit in amusement at the state he was leaving you in. Since you got over your cold, you had all these cravings, both food and him. Of course he was going to take it, because tomorrow, you might be back to snapping at him not to even look at you. It just comes and goes lately. 
“Fuck off Ransom, just get me what I asked for. Spawn Baby has needs.” You rubbed your belly and he saluted you before heading to the door. You hummed happily and watched as Ransom left the room before you grabbed his pillow and hugged it against your chest, honestly feeling the best you have in a while. 
Downstairs Ransom grabbed a juice glass and searched the door for a container of juice. Typically you bought the bottles, but this time you bought the carton, which he never typically used. Something about drinks left in cardboard just sounded wrong to him. Giving it a good shake, he went to open it, but as many times he turned it, he couldn't find a cap to unscrew. “Well how the fuck you supposed to open this?” He scowled at the container. 
Next he tried to flip the top of it back and forth, seeing if it would snap open. “Well what the hell?” he scowled while lifting the container to look for directions. But the writing was tiny and he didn't have the patience to bother with it. 
“Fuck it, I’m just going to cut it.” He started opening the drawers till he found a knife to cut into the cardboard when you appeared in the entrance. 
“Ransom, what are you doing?” Your head tilted, a questioning look crossing your face as he held the knife blade down, like he was going to stab at the orange juice. 
“What's it look like? I'm opening the fucking orange juice to pour you a glass.” He said like this was just everyday for him, which considering who it was, you had to give it to him, it could very well be. 
“Put the knife down Ransom, and let me open it.” You tightened your robe around you while approaching him with a sigh. “Last thing we need is another visit to the er because the knife slipped or some shit.” You slid the orange juice over to you which caused him to scowl.
“I’m not going to cut myself, that was an accident, nothing like right now.” 
“Mmhm sure.” You pried apart the top, bending it back and forward a few times before it split. Pulling it open further, you poured it in a glass and handed it back over to Ransom. 
“Well… what a stupid design. Next time we should just do fresh squeezed, better for the baby.” Ransom stated, and you sipped from your juice, smirking. 
“Right Ransom, you going to juice me twenty oranges everyday?” The tip of your tongue catching some of the droplets off your lips. 
Ransom shrugged and lifted the container like he was about to pour himself a glass. “If that's what you want, I will do it.” He tipped it back to his mouth instead, taking some deep swallows. 
“RANSOM! Use a glass.” You smack at his arm while he drags his arm against his lips to wipe them dry. “I can just see you juicing oranges.” You gave a roll of your eyes, arching a brow in challenge while you went to sip from your glass once more. 
“You dehydrated me Princess!” he grinned while reaching for a glass and pouring himself some this time around instead of going straight from the carton. “Let me hire someone, and we could both have fresh squeezed orange juice whenever.” 
You scoffed at him while going to the pantry. “Hey, where did you stash my peanut butter and jelly? Spawn baby is hungry.”
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padme-parker · 3 years
Text
Collide / Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Chapter 6)
[a Star Wars x Avengers crossover]
Summary: You go to Onderon and meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Another call to home ensues and hearts get broken.
Warnings: angst, maybe cursing, I can’t think of anything else. oh and bad plot lmao
WC: 4.0k
A/N: this isn’t proof read so it might be scuffed. 
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read chapter 5 here
C O R U S C A N T
After the nightmares began, Anakin was rarely around, only making you more susceptible to the dark side. You truly did want to tell him about what had been keeping you up at night, but how were you going to contact him when he was never around and the connection the two of you shared was seemingly cut off? You weren’t able to feel his emotions nor feel his presence. It was as if he had blocked you off, almost like he was dead, but he wasn’t. You knew that he went on more campaigns as he was barely spending time in the temple, wanting to stay as far away from you. And if the two of you ever were in the same room by sheer luck, he pretended that you didn’t exist.
On days where both Anakin and Obi Wan were gone, you trained with a girl named Xin. In a way, she reminded you of the mandalorian Sabine: intelligent, strong, and creative. She was skilled with her lightsaber, but also greatly skilled in hand to hand combat, making her an excellent training partner. When all three of them were gone, you spent time learning binary after shortly being gifted a droid. R2-KT, or Kaytee as you liked to call her, accompanied you on your walks around the Jedi temple, often telling you random facts about it or Coruscant.
As time passed, you noticed how the council became weary of your presence. After noticing the color of your saber, which wasn’t hard to miss, the Jedi Masters seemed to focus their attention on you whenever you were in the room with them. You would have liked to believe that you had begun to earn their trust, but you understood their cautiousness towards you. Hell, you would’ve probably reacted the same way if someone came to Earth using a big stone hidden in the middle of nowhere claiming that the fate of the universe rested in their hands.
The halls of the temple were empty- excluding the sentinels- as you roamed around with Kaytee at your side. It was still so surreal being in the Jedi temple. Six months ago you were on Earth, spending time with your family. It seemed so long ago since you were first introduced to Star Wars.
You were foreign to the concept of bonding, spending time with your peers. After spending almost 17 years in foster care, you learned to not attach yourself. To become cold, detached, and observant of your surroundings. With your arrival to the tower, it became a shock to you when you found out that the team spent time together willingly. Some nights they played games like Uno and Cards Against Humanity. You would always sit in the corner and watch them, not comfortable enough to be engaging with them in such a way like that. On the nights where they watched movies, you would always sit in the furthest seat away from the group. It stayed like that until Peter started coming to the bonding nights.
Due to the fact that he was still young, he stayed with his Aunt May. Only coming to the tower to help Tony with his projects. So it was a surprise to see him there, but you couldn’t help feel more comfortable knowing that someone else your age was there.
“So, what’re we watching tonight?” He asked. The team let out a couple of groans, unsure of what they were getting into. “How about we watch Star Wars? I bet you those two grandpas haven’t seen it yet.”
“Hey! Watch it, Peter.” Steve said, putting his hand over his heart to feign hurt. All it took for him to apologize was one glance at Bucky. “Sorry Mister Winter- uhh James- Bucky-- no. Sir Barnes. And Steve.”
He goes to sit down, but before he does, he takes a survey of the room. He notices you sitting alone on the couch, “Hey, why don’t you come sit closer?” He asked. You shake your head, telling him that you were alright where you were. “What about you? Have you seen Star Wars?” You quickly shake your head, you see Peter’s eyes widen and he takes off to sit in the empty spot next to you.
“OMG. WHAT? How have you never seen the movies?”
“Not everyone has the privilege to have a normal childhood. I just so happened to be one of those kids.” You informed him.
“Right, sorry.” He apologized, his hand awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “I’m sure you’ll love the movies though.”
Peter was right. After watching A New Hope, the team had retired to their respective rooms, but the two of you had stayed up all night finishing the movies. After watching all three trilogies, you had a new found obsession, especially for a certain Skywalker. Even though some people thought that Anakin was a bad character, and sure the script was really bad, you really did love him. So when he betrayed Obi Wan to save Padme, your heart couldn’t help but break. Poor man was so whipped for the pussy :( I guess you could call it to die for.
Although your time on Coruscant was limited, you did your best to enjoy it. The six months you had spent here so far had been a gift. The environment was truly mesmerizing, and you wanted to share it with Peter. You tried not to call him often, the time difference was just slightly confusing. While six months might’ve passed for you, it had only been a month for your family back home.
You were broken out of your reverie by the buzzing of your holocom, requesting your presence in the council room. Making your way into the room, you told Kaytee to wait by the doors. You stood in the middle of the room with your hands clasped behind your back, waiting for them to address you.
“Nice to see you it is.” Master yoda said. “A task for you, we have.”
A task? What could they possibly want you to do? There was no way they’d be sending you on a mission, they never did.
“We want you to travel to Onderon. They are celebrating their liberation from the separatists. I don’t know why but Anakin and Obi Wan would like for you to be present-” Before Mace can finish his sentence he is cut off.
“I believe what Master Windu is trying to say is that they would both like for you to experience what our galaxy has to offer.” Shaak Ti answered for him. “There will be other Jedi there too, but you will be traveling on your own.” She said. “Oh, and please keep in mind, this celebration is also being held in remembrance for Steela, their fallen leader.”
“Understood, may I leave now?” Master Yoda gave you a nod, allowing you to leave. You made your way to the hangar, Kaytee following close behind you. Well, it looks like it was time to see Anakin again.
-
O N D E R O N
Your journey to Onderon is short, but you take the time to fiddle with Kaytee. Cleaning her up to make her look presentable. Weeks after you were gifted the droid, you took the time to fix her up and reprogram her to your liking. With the touch of a button, you could make her record a hologram, send her your location, or gouge out someone's eye if needed. You truly did love your droid, and you thanked the stars that Stark taught you how to code, program, and build trinkets of your own.
Kaytee lands the ship with a heavy thud, “I know you're excited to see Artoo, but we need to be careful with this ship. It’s not ours.” You told her, and in return you get a series of apologetic beeps. The door opens with a hiss, you signal for Kaytee to follow you. Stepping off, you notice all of the other ships outside of Iziz. It was like all the entirety of the galactic senate was here, which you really didn’t doubt. You felt out of place in your Jedi robes. People were arriving in magnificent, mind blowing outfits. Gowns with tails that trailed far behind them and tuxes with flowy capes. This ball was going to have it all.
The bustle of the market only intensified with the oncomers. You had to make your way to the temple before you got distracted. By the time you reached the temple doors, the crowd lessened, or so you thought. Entering the temple, you were greeted at the sight of hundreds of people. You felt blood rush to your cheeks as people began to turn and stare at you. Screw the Jedi Council for not giving me a nice outfit to change into. Just as you were about to turn around and wander through the market, you heard your voice being called out. You tried to find where the sound was coming from, only to get confused and jolt your head around violently as if you were a loth cat.
“Alyra! Over here!.” Your feet began moving on their own accord. As if you were being drawn to a presence. You come to a screeching halt in front of.. Anakin, of course it's him. Why am I not surprised that the force has literally brought me to him? Along with Obi Wan, R2, and Padme. Oh my god, wait, it’s Padme. I could kiss her right now if I wanted to. But I won’t. That would be weird, won’t it. Kissing her in front of her husband, who is my-
“Alyra, are you alright?” Obi Wan asks, breaking you out of your internal ramble.
“Yeah, I was just...trying to take all of this in. I’ve never seen anything like this.” You responded, pretending to look around the temple.
“It seems like you space out a lot.” He jokes, a smile on his face before he realizes no one else is laughing. He rolls his eyes before continuing, “Anyways, welcome to Onderon. This is my good friend, Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo.” He turns to face her while he introduces you to her. You hold out a hand, expecting for her to shake it. Instead she walks up to you and takes you within her hold. She hugs you tightly, you can feel her protruding belly.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you! Anakin has talked a lot about you.” Both you and Obi Wan furrow your brows at the mention of Anakin speaking of you. Padme is quick to notice this and corrects herself, “I mean of what he’s mentioned to me about you today. Right, Ani?” She validates.
“Yeah, only good things though.” He testified, avoiding your gaze. It was weird that he was mentioning you to his pregnant wife, what was there to talk about? Not to mention the fact that he had been avoiding your presence for months now.
You squinted your eyes at him, “I could only hope so, seeing as though we haven’t spoken in awhile.” you accused. What in the world is he up to now?
You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to come up with a comeback, before he can utter a word, he’s interrupted by Padme.
“C’mon, let’s go to your room and get you changed.” Once again, you furrow your brows.
“Changed, what do you mean changed?” You ask her.
“What, did you think I’d just let you roam around the ball in those ugly Jedi robes? Come, I’ll let you borrow one of my dresses.” She drags you away by the arm, Anakin and Obi Wan shouting at her. Something about Jedi robes not being ugly, you couldn’t really hear with Padme’s giggles silencing them. Kaytee let’s out a giggle of her own as she follows you, Artoo’s personality rubbing off on her.
Padmé all but practically throws you onto your bed as she ushers one of her handmaidens, Teckla, to bring the dresses into your room. Teckla wheels in a rack filled with elegant looking dresses, along with a bunch of different heels. All looking like they could snap your ankle in half if you walked the wrong way. The first dress she hands you is body conforming up until it reaches your knees, from there it fans out creating a mermaid gown effect. While the dress itself was very beautiful, you thought of it to be too plain for an event like this. You and Padme both share a look before agreeing that this was in fact not the dress.
However, the next dress she hands you is a proper ball gown. You slip it on, taken aback by how heavy the dress was. She walks up behind you to tighten the corset of the gown. She does her best to tighten it up without hurting you, but you can’t help let out a wheeze as she gets closer to tying it off.
“Sorry, as much as I love this dress, I also hate it. I’m so glad I’m pregnant so I don’t have to feel it stabbing me at every given chance.” She said, breaking the silence.
“How many months are you?” You asked.
“I’m six months along now, almost seven.” She finishes tying up the corset before stepping aside. “What do you think?”
“Well, it certainly is fit for an event like this and I do think it’s beautiful. But it’s crushing me with every breath I take. I feel like if I sit down, I won’t be able to get back up.”
“Right, well I can fix that.” This time she takes her time picking out the next dress. She lets her fingers brush across the different fabrics, stopping at one that caught her eye. “Here, try this one!” She suggests. By the look on her face, you can already tell that this is the one. The dress is flowy and soft looking. You step into the dress, pleased to find yourself correct. It feels like you have nothing on. Padme helps you zip the dress up, along with clasping together the leather pieces. The light blue tulle layered over the dark blue, almost purple material complimented your skin tone. The dress had a deep v-neck, showing off your cleavage. Right below your collarbone laid a strap of leather, connecting to either side of your thick shoulder straps. From those straps, a thin piece of tulle was stitched on, giving you two separate mini capes for your arms. Aside from a strap of leather covering your spine, the dress is completely backless. It feels like you could go frolicking in this dress. Who am I kidding, Padme probably went frolicking in this dress with Anakin.
“So, what do you think?” Her tone is hushed, as if she was trying to figure out whether you hated or loved the dress.
“It’s beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.” You respond. “Kaytee, what do you reckon?” The droid let’s out a series of delights beeps, showing her contentment towards the dress.
“Great!” Padmé says before ushering you into a chair. “Now, we're going to do your hair and makeup. So sit still.” For once in your life, you shut up and sit still, allowing Padme to work her magic.
“Do you know the gender?” You asked, your question breaking the silence, and while the atmosphere wasn’t exactly awkward, it wasn’t comfortable either.
“Oh no, I’d rather not. It’s not like it matters to me anyways. As long as my child is happy and healthy, then so am I. But it’s ironic because I haven’t been to a check up yet.” Padme gently pulls your hair back, leaving two pieces in the front to frame your face. It was simple, not taking any attention away from the dress.
No check up? Maybe that’s why Padme didn’t know she was having twins. “So you haven’t seen a doctor or a medical droid yet?” Your eyes follow her as she pulls makeup out of her bag, her collection vast.
“No, not really. I don’t have very much time to myself due to the fact that I’m a part of the senate. But I do my best to make sure I stay healthy for my baby and me. I also just want it to be a surprise.” Padme finds a foundation shade similar to your skin tone and blends it in.
“What if you have twins? What will you do then?” You probably weren’t supposed to be asking her questions like these, but you couldn’t help it. Maybe you should’ve asked why she had so much makeup instead.
“Well..” She sighed while blotting powder all over your face. “..I suppose if it happens, then it happens. It’s the will of the force.” She finishes powdering your face before moving to your eyebrows. Padme takes an angled brow brush and begins to fill them in, giving it a naturally fuller look.
“So, you believe in the force?”
“How could I not? I work so closely with the Jedi, I’ve seen what you guys have done. The father is very close friends with the Jedi.” Padme said, implying that the father was in fact a Jedi. It felt like you were intruding, but then again, you weren’t necessarily forcing her to tell you this. You had only met her moments ago and she already trusted you enough with her secrets.
“Really? I thought the Jedi weren’t allowed to form attachments?”
“Oh… we weren’t really together. It was sort of a one night thing. But he’s going to be in the child’s life.” She covered up.
The conversation went on like that for a while before Padme announced that she was finished with you. After finishing your makeup and adding some finishing touches to your hair, she finally stepped aside, letting you see yourself in the mirror.
The second you saw yourself, your mouth fell open in shock. You looked absolutely ethereal. Padme kept your makeup very natural to bring out your features. She also added small, white flowers into your hair. You excitedly thanked her and got up to hug her as a way to show your gratitude.
“Shall we get going now?” She offered
“Oh, if it was alright with you, I was going to stay behind. I have to contact somebody.” You asked
“Of course, I’ll see you later then.” She said before gathering all of her belongings and leaving with Teckla. As Padme arrives, Anakin notices that you weren’t with her.
“Where’s Alyra?” He asked her, eager to see what she would look like out of her Jedi robes.
“She said she had to talk to someone.”
Meanwhile, in your room you were getting ready to call Peter. Honestly, you had no idea if you had connection on Onderon, but you were about to find out. Taking off your necklace, you were pleased to see the green light, indicating that you were indeed connected to the bridge. You scroll through your contacts before finding Peter’s name. You hit the dial button and wait for it to connect.
-
E A R T H
Peter is sleeping when he gets a call, the bracelet on his left hand vibrating. He thinks nothing of it and almost declines the call. That is until he realizes it’s you calling on the bracelet he had designated just for you. He jumps up from his sleeping position and quickly answers your call. Peter can’t help but let out a gasp of awe the very second your face pops onto the hologram.
“What? Is there something on my face?” You move closer towards the camera and inspect your face, only to find no flaws.
“Nothing...it’s just been so long since I’ve seen you like this.”
“Like what?” Your eyebrows scrunch together, the confusion clear on your face.
“All… dolled up.” Peter’s response makes your face blush a hot red. You let out a shy laugh as your hand comes to rest at the back of your neck. He was right, it had been so long since you’ve felt this pretty. It felt good, for once you had felt good.
“Thanks, Pete. It feels good to be in something other than Jedi robes.”
“Not that I’m saying you can’t be dressed up like this, but exactly why are you so dressed up?” He pondered, he knew it wasn’t like the Jedi to go about their duties in exquisite gowns.
“I’m actually on Onderon.” You pan the camera towards the view outside of your window. “The Jedi have invited me to a celebration of Onderon’s liberation. But also in memory of Steela I believe. I really wish you were here with me. I still don’t understand why they couldn’t have sent both of us.”
“I miss you too, but you know I have a duty here on Earth.”
“Duty? So did I Peter!”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that. With me being Spiderman-”
“It’s not like they don’t have any other superheroes. I mean come on, admit it! You know more about Star Wars than I possibly could. You should be here with me.” You huff out before changing the subject, “Anyways, how are you? Did you end up fixing things with MJ?”
“I’m fine, but no, we didn’t. We both agreed that we’d be better off as friends. Besides I’ve already moved on.” He confessed, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. It’s now or never Peter, you’ve gotta tell her.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear about your split. But hopefully you and this new person will work out-”
“It’s you.” He says, abruptly cutting you off. Peter watches you tilt your head as your brows scrunch together again.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s you,” He repeats, taking a deep breath before speaking again, “It’s always been you. I didn’t realize it until you had left… I didn’t think I could miss someone so much.”
“Peter…. I don’t know what to say.” You uttered out,
“Please, say something- anything.” He begged, hoping he hadn’t just ruined years of friendship. Peter watches as you open and close your mouth, searching for the right words.
“...I can’t.” You say as you shake your head. “I can’t be with you, Peter.”
“Why? Is it because of my age? Come on, Y/N, I’m only two years younger than you.” He pleads
“It’s not that. You’re just not the right person for me, Peter. I know it in my very soul.”
“Oh yeah? And who is, Anakin?” He taunts, he can feel his eyes water as he watches you look away from him. “No freakin’ way. You’ve got to be kidding me.” Peter lets out a scoff.
“You’ve got to understand Pete, I love him. I really do.”
“NO! You don’t love him. You’re just obsessed with him. You think you can save him but you can’t! No one can! You can’t change his destiny.”
“What do you even know about love? You can’t tell me who I can and can’t love. It doesn’t work like that. You know nothing about it-”
“I LOVE YOU!” He screams, breaking the silence in his Queen’s apartment, surely waking up May. “Why isn’t that enough?” Peter watches as tears slowly stream down your face as he lets out a few of his own.
“I’ve got to see this out until the end, you know that Peter...I could only wish that it was enough, but it’s not. You’re like a brother to me, don’t do this to me. To our friendship...I’ve got to go now.”
“No, you don’t get to leave again-”
“I’m sorry, goodbye, Peter.” You end the call and Peter is left staring at the wall, mouth hung open in shock. He couldn’t believe this just happened to him. He faintly makes out the sound of Aunt May knocking on his door.
Without waiting for a response, she cracks open his door. She takes notice of the tears falling off of his face and closes her mouth. Aunt May is silent as she makes her way across his room, holding her arms out for him. Peter gratuitously accepts her embrace, his sobs muffled by her clothes.
No words are spoken as Peter cries his heart out, never in a million years did he think you’d be the one to break him.
--
collide tags: @deepcollectionmagazine​ @amesstm​ @haileyybird​
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coke-and-candy · 4 years
Text
A Little Competition Never Hurt Anyone: Part 2
Here is the long awaited part 2! Now available on FF.net and AO3! Links below. Tags @echpr, @realsquidinc, @teresarosiadeviluke2112, @geminikessa, @astridflies, @driftingmoonlitpetals, @bee-wrecker, @iglowinggemma28, @drarryismylife101, @mikantsume, @diamondheart31, @iggy-of-fans, @runadaemon, @northernbluetongue, @kristycocopop, @czgamz, @mysticsoulgirl, @silvergold-swirl, @queenmj10, @asstheticmangos, @thesunstormsolo, @writingishfanonsideblog, @if-you-give-a-chat-a-cookie, @seraphichana, @bnha-fanfic-recs, @katieykat513, @whatarubberchicken, @princess-of-fangirls, @marichat00, @mmwolf1605, @urbanpineapplefarmer, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @adalouise1987, @winterfury-10, @celestialtitania, @vixen-uchiha, @certainmuffinbagelcalzone, @satans-favorite-homo, @jardimazul, @chronois, @marinette-is-a-badass, @the-no-one-in-the-corner, @jessigurl-design, @kittycatwowmeow, @himevampirechan, @livelifeauthorstyle, @hufflejournals, @melhuney, @xxvanilla-thundaxx, @thewondersoflebanon, @enduskgragon, @rumbelle18, @natasha-barton
FF.net (link)
Part 1 (link)
Edit: Now on AO3 (link)!
                                                   Part 2
                                               The Stakes
Today was the day!
Today was possibly the most important day of her whole LIFE!
Her chance to get that much closer to achieving her dream of being hard-hitting investigative reporter.
The first round of preliminary presentations and interviews—her one shot of making an impression on the judges—and Alya Césaire was determined to nail it.
She had worked up until the deadline in order to get her entry as perfect as possible. It hadn’t been easy to get the necessary information from Lila without tipping anyone off about the competition—but! in the end, she did. It was one of the reasons why Alya was already such a good reporter at such a young age. She knew how and when to ask the right questions. Even if it meant telling a few teeny tiny little fibs to keep everyone in the dark. A little poke and prod here and there, a little white lie about wanting to do little exposés on the Ladyblog about everyday Ladybugs and Chat Noirs… and boom! Lila had been more than happy to send her all the links to news articles and organization pages that mentioned her… Which were a lot—Lila really was amazing! And the deeper Alya got invested in her contest entry the more it that just solidified in Alya’s mind that she was doing the right thing.
Sure, she still felt a little guilty having to sometimes skip out of hanging out with Marinette in order to hangout with Lila to conduct her secret interviews. But it was ok! The ends would more than justify the means.
Besides… a few little lies never hurt anyone anyways…
Countless hours had gone into writing, researching, re-writing, editing, more editing, and practicing her presentation and interview answers (ok she was not quite sure what the judges would be asking but it never hurt to have some responses ready to go on the fly). All leading up to this moment!
Standing in front of the Le Monde Parisian headquarters, dressed in her best power outfit, presentation in hand, and her parents right there beside her to cheer her on.
Her mother and father both had taken time off in order to be there for her and Nora had even volunteered to watch the twins so that their parents wouldn’t have to worry and all of their attention could be on Alya today.
They walked into the bright, sleek, and modern lobby of the new building and towards the receptionist desk. The lobby was busy that morning, there were other couples there as well, most likely the parents of the other contestants that had gotten that fateful phone call and scheduled to present today.
They made their way over to the receptionist’s desk.
“Excuse me,” Alya said, doing her best to sound professional. “I’m here for my presentation for La CompétitionOlmpe de Gouges.”
“Name?” The receptionist asked.
“Alya Césaire.”
The receptionist typed away at her computer. “Ah! Here we are.” She looked up and directed the family towards the grand staircase on the other side of the lobby. “Go up the stairs to the second floor and then down the first hallway on your right, there you will see a set of black doors, room 202.” Alya nodded, simple enough instructions. “From there only the contestants are allowed in. Parents and all other family members will have to wait here in the lobby.”
“Thank-you,” Alya smiled politely, her parents also giving a polite nod of appreciation to the woman before following behind their second eldest daughter.
As Alya made her way to her destination, her journalistic eye could not help but take in her surroundings and the various other adults that filtered through the lobby, all in many different types of dress as well, ranging from khakis to exquisitely tailored suits to exotic styles from all over the world. Marinette had often spoken about how fashion gave an insight into different professional environments and the type of people who worked there. Alya was starting to understand what her friend had meant.
But thinking about the different clothing she was seeing reminded her of Marinette—which also reminded her about the last time they had spoken…
It would be an understatement to say that they had not parted on the best of terms.
They had gotten into an argument over the fact that the baker’s daughter was stubbornly refusing to hangout anywhere near Lila and how the only way they could all hangout together was if they straight up lied to her.
Which was what Alya had resorted to in order to have all the girls hanging together as a big group for once. Instead of always having to choose between hanging out with Marinette or hanging out with Lila.
The Ladyblogger wasn’t proud of her methods—but what else was she supposed to do?! She was desperate! All she wanted was for all of her friends to get along and have a great day together; hanging out, enjoying all that Paris had to offer for those lucky enough to live within her borders, and making happy memories together to be cherished…
Why couldn’t Marinette understand that?! Why did the pig-tailed girl have to be so, so... pig-headed!
The resulting argument between the two lycée students had gotten pretty heated and some pretty hurtful things probably would have been said had it not been for an Akuma attacking near where they had agreed to meet up.
But the damage had still been done.
That had been well over a week ago and Marinette was not speaking to ANY of them. She wouldn’t pick up her phone, refused to answer their texts, and even went so far as to asking her parents not to let any of them see her at home. Not even Adrien could get through to her! Every time he had tried approaching her, the designer would ignore him or actively avoid him anyway she could… even if it meant climbing out of a second story window. It was clearly having an effect on the whole class. It felt as if there was a dark cloud in the classroom, as if all the good things in the world have suddenly been cut off. Poor Lila was taking it the hardest and all the girls were doing their best to reassure her that it was not her fault and to cheer her up as best as they could.
It was clear to everyone that Marinette’s attitude was the one in the wrong, but the girl STILL would not see reason and Alya could not understand why!
Why was Marinette acting thing way?!
Why couldn’t she stop being so petty and jealous about Lila and give her a chance?!
Why was she being so stubborn and unreasonable?!
That’s why this day was so important on a more personable level. It would finally be the cold hard, evidence backed, and internationally backed panel of journalistic judges proof that would finally, FINALLY! Get through Marinette’s jealousy and delusions and at last show her that she had been wrong about Lila all along.
Maybe then, things could finally go back to normal and there would not be such a chill in the air during class…
Before Alya could sink further into the negative memories of the past week, her parents pulled her out of her thoughts and back to the present.
They had followed the receptionist’s instructions and were now standing in front of a pair of sleek black double-doors with simple polished steel handles, with the number 202 engraved on a spotless steel plaque next to them.
This was it.
“Good luck ti panther mwen an!” Her father enveloped her in a warm hug. His face beaming with pride as he handed his second oldest off to his wife so that she could have a turn in hugging their daughter.
“We are so proud of you!” Marlena Césaire gave her daughter a once over to make sure she was presentable for the umpteenth time, her smile beaming with pride. “Now you go in there and knock ‘em dead.”
“I will manman.”
“And remember to look them straight in the eye. Show no fear!”
“Of course papa.”
“We’ll be waiting in the lobby ok.”
With one final bone-crushing hug, Alya walked through the doors and as they closed behind her she took a moment to get a quick scan and layout of the room. It was a smaller waiting area with a few comfy looking black leather couches and there were already three other students, who looked to be about her age, sitting on them. Even though they were her competition, Alya still wanted to introduce herself. Who knows? Maybe one of them could be a valuable future colleague.
She immediately recognized one of them and instantly gravitated towards them with a wide smile.
“Mireille! Hey!”
The other girl looked up from the folder her hands, looking a bit surprised to hear her name and then broke out into a friendly grin as well when she saw who had called out her name. “Hi Alya! I didn’t know you were entering this competition as well.”
Alya nodded as she took a seat next to the junior weathergirl. “Yeah, I kind of wanted this to be a surprise since I’m doing my presentation on someone I’m really close to.”
“Really? Who is it?”
“Someone who fit the prompt for the competition to a T.” Alya couldn’t keep the pride in her tone for her friend seeping through as she began to list off her reasoning. “They’re naturally kind and giving person that has already achieved so much, despite being our age. Someone who knows what it means to carry on despite obstacles and never stops thinking about others. Someone who is sure to be one of the Greats of the future without a doubt.”
Hearing the conviction in Alya’s small speech Mireille couldn’t help but be impressed at the other girl’s confidence. But then again, Mireille thought she had a pretty good idea about just whom the auburn haired girl was talking about, but decided to go along.  
“Wow, and does this someone know that you entered a presentation about them…?”
“Nope!” Alya popped the p at the end for emphasis. She gave the other girl a mischievous grin and leaned in to stage whisper for added dramatics. “It’s all going to be a surprise.”
Mireille let out a little giggle at her schoolmate’s theatrics. Alya always did have a lot of spunk to her.
“Anyways, how long have you been waiting? What time is your appointment suppose to be at?” Alya wondered, adjusting herself a little sit a little bit more professionally.
“Oh! I already gave my presentation; I’m just waiting for a text from my dad letting me know he’s here to pick me up.” Mireille replied, holding up her phone.
“Really?!” Alya immediately fell into her default Ladyblogger mode. “How’d you think you did, what were the judges like, what did—“
Before Alya had a chance to finish her rapid-fire questions, or for the now slightly frazzled Mireille to get a chance to respond, a young, well dressed man in his twenties came into the room with a tablet and interrupted her.
“Alya Césaire?”
“Yes!” Alya replied.
He held the door at the opposite side of the room open for her. “Please come on in and begin setting up what ever you will need. The judges will be with you shortly.”
Alya quickly stood and clutched her notes and the USB drive her work was on tightly to her chest, her heart pounding with excitement and nervous energy. “Well this is it. I’ll see you later at school ‘kay. Wish me luck!” She smiled at Mireille as she left the couch to follow the man to the judging area.
“Good luck, Alya!” Mireille waved cheerfully which Alya returned before the door was closed behind her.
Shortly after, the short-haired lycée student got a notification letter her know her father was now waiting for her at the front. As, Mireille made her way down the stairs to the main lobby; she couldn’t help but think how great it was that Alya was choosing to do this report about her friend. But honestly, it did seem like a very good choice.
There really was only one person that Mireille could think of that fell into the category that the other reporter hopeful had described. It was sure to really impress the judges that Alya actually knew and was close to someone like that, and her presentation on them would no doubt be amazing.
After all… 
Marinette Dupain-Cheng really was a miraculous person.
_______________________________________________________________________
And there it is!
If I didn’t tag you, I’m sorry about that, send me a message and I will be sure to tag you for the next update.
I realized when I started brainstorming the next segment of this story that the connection from the first part to the climax was… lacking… and it was driving me CRAZY! I could not for the life of me figure out why the climax was not coming to me at all, I know what was going to happen and how but none of it felt right. That’s when I realized that the crescendo to that moment of truth that everyone is waiting for was not there. Therefore this story went from a two-shot story to a 3-4 part story. 
So now we have the proper set up. Alya has submitted her work and is about to face the judges. Gee! I wonder what will happen...?
Let me know what you all think. Also this story is now on FF.net, so if you guys want go ahead and check out this story there so you can leave your reviews and comments. Till next time!
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noforkingclue · 3 years
Text
Forget Me Not Chapter 17 (Billy Butcher x reader)
The second part of your backstory of Butcher is revealed in this chapter. Hope you guys enjoy :D
Forget Me Not tag list: @spookyminxy, @leslie2898, @hangmansjoke,  @scraftskhu35, @stephdavies95, @ that-cute-stranger
Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary
You tended not to revisit places that you had already scammed or had robbed someone in. However this casino was on the way to your destination and you could always do with a bit of extra cash. You hoped that nobody would recognise you and you watched over the crowds.
Then you saw him.
He looked slightly different to when you saw him last, which was about nine months ago. He had grown out a beard and his hair was still messy. When he turned around you saw that he was still wearing a hideous Hawaiian shirt. He made eye contact with you and frowned, almost as though he recognised you. He started walking towards you and you chose that moment to disappear. There was no way he could remember you but you’d rather not take the chance.
“Oi!” he yelled, “Oi hold it. I want to have a word with you.”
Ha, no chance. You weren’t about to let that bastard catch you. Unfortunately luck was not on your side. A hand clasped itself on your shoulder and you were forced around to look into his face. He had a confused expression but there was a murderous intent hidden under it. You were in deep shit if he actually remembered you.
“Who are you?”
“Buy me a drink and maybe I’ll tell you.”
You winced as his grip suddenly tightened.
“Oh no,” he said quietly as he stared dragging you away, “I know you did something to me. What are you, another supe cunt?”
“I ain’t a supe!”
“But you did something. You know a supe is that it?”
“Y/n,” a voice called, “Everything alright?”
You relaxed as your target for that evening approached the two of you. His name was Peter and he was rich and thick, exactly your type. You relaxed immediately as he walked up to you and put a hand on your other shoulder.
“Underhand her right now,” he said, “Or I’ll call security.”
“Security,” he laughed, “Load of fucking good they’ll do. What’s your plan with him? Rob him blind just like me?”
“Rob? Y/n what is he talking about.”
“Nothing dear,” you said, “I think he just had a bit too much to drink.”
You tried to use your powers to relax Peter but unfortunately, due to the noise and confusion of the casino, you hit the wrong target. You and the man, who you remembered was called Billy, both gasped. Peter had managed to pull you free but it was too late. Billy gave you a murderous look and you knew you were fucked.
“You cunt,” he hissed, “I knew I remembered you from somewhere. You fucking thieving supe bitch.”
“Security!” cried Peter as he wrapped an arm around, “Security!”
“I’ll find you,” Billy yelled as he was dragged away, “This isn’t fucking over!”
 *
 You woke up with a jolt then let out a groan as the pain hit you. You looked around the room and recognised that you were in the hide out. A wave of relief washed over you that the Boys had found you and you pulled back the covers. You lets out a hiss of pain as you tried to bend your fingers and looked down at them. They were wrapped in white bandages and you let out a shudder when you remembered what had happened.
Slowly you made your way out of bed. You grabbed the wall when you almost fell over and had to wait a moment until you regained your balance. You shuffled towards the door and gingerly grabbed the handle and swung the door open. Butcher was sitting on the sofa and looked up sharply when you entered the room.
“No,” he said firmly, “Go back to bed right now.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Tough fucking luck,” he said walking over to you, “I’m not going to argue with you. You’ve just been… You’re still injured.”
“Please,” you said, “I don’t want to be alone right now. When I am all I can think about is those men we robbed in that bar. How they-“
You broke off, not able to finish the sentence. Butcher’s eyes softened and he sighed.
“Fine,” he said, “Come here.”
You were immediately scooped up in Butcher’s arms as he walked back towards the sofa. With an unexpected gentleness he laid you down on the sofa and sat down next to you. You leant against him and when you felt him tense you started to move away.
“Sorry.” You said
“Don’t be.”
He pulled you back against him.
“If it makes you feel better than do it. Just don’t expect this all the time.”
“I understand. Where are the others?”
“I don’t think you’re in the right state of mind to know.”
“Butcher.”
“Later.”
“I have a right to know what happened to the people who fucking tortured me.”
Butcher was silent for a moment. When you looked up at him you could see the conflict on his face.
“Please Billy.”
“Fine,” he said, “One of them wasn’t there.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach
“The boss, the cunt we robbed. He wasn’t there.”
You felt your chest get tight. You sat up and put your hand over your heart. You were vaguely aware of Butcher saying your name but it sounded distant, as though he was underwater. Your breathing quickened but no air was going into your lungs. You felt hands on your face and you were forced to look into Butcher’s eyes.
“Y/n,” he said firmly, “Listen to me.”
“Can’t… breath.”
“Shh, shh, it’ll be alright. Listen to me, breath in-“
You took a deep breath in.
“Good girl. And out.”
You did this several times until Butcher was satisfied your breathing was better and you could feel your heart rate return to normal. He gently hushed you and stroked your cheek with his thumb.
“You’re safe,” he said, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“He’s going to find us,” you said, “He’s going to find us then kill us.”
“No he’s not.”
“Yes he-“
Butcher pulled you against him. You tried to pull yourself out of his arms but his grip just tightened. Eventually you relaxed against him. Butcher didn’t say anything and just stroked your hair. When he felt you shuddering against him he didn’t comment and he didn’t say anything when he felt his shirt getting wet. He was going to be there for you. You finally needed him but he didn’t want you to need him like this.
“I found something for you.” He said when you had finally calmed down
You looked up at him and he nodded towards the TV. He switched it on and he felt his heart fluttered when you smiled.
“How?” you asked
“I know a guy.”
“And you’ll watch this with me?”
“I might die of boredom or gouge my eyes out, but yes.”
“Thanks Butcher.”
“Don’t mention it.”
You relaxed again him and put your head on his lap. Butcher rested a hand on top of your head as your eyes were glued to the TV now playing the Antiques Roadshow. Maybe Butcher wasn’t as big of a bastard as you thought.
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midnights-light · 4 years
Text
Ladybug and the hound
Chapter 1
Imma be honest I wasn’t expecting 1 person to read my story let alone 48 but life is full of surprises and while that may not seem like a lot of people I was expecting no one to read this so for me it means a lot. Now a few notes.
So I forgot to mention a few things in the last chapter such as Captain’s breed. He is a Malinois Dog breed, second I may use some things from @kelelamentia Dogs are a ladybugs best friend ‘cause I love the idea of the way Ladybug and Captain do the pound it.Now on to the second chapter. Also I did not forget August you’ll just have to read to know what happens with him. I also am terrible at describing things and how people look so imagine them as you please.
Learning about Marinette
Marinette’s POV
After the battle me and captain were just trying to get home so I could help maman and papa in the bakery but instead I run into the people I handed August to while I yelled at Chat. He’s been getting worse and worse each akuma that appears demanding that I go on a date with him and accept that I love him even though I told him that I don’t like him over and over again. I lost my feelings for Adrien when he left me to deal with the class bullying me to make me pay for ‘bullying’ Lila. One good thing that came from the Lila situation is that I learned who my real friends are. Max, Kim, Alix, Chloe, Kagami, Nino, and Luka all stick with me.
Max had his suspicions about Lila’s lies since the beginning but the napkin incident is what made him completely sure that she was lying because one it was a napkin so it couldn’t possibly gouge his eye out, and two is that even if it ‘could’ gouge his eye out HE HAS GLASSES which would protect his eyes. Kim and Nino have been my friends since forever so they know that I hate liars so when I called her a liar they knew that there must be a reason so one day after school they came to my house to ask me why I think she’s a liar. So I pointed out that all of the lies that could be proven wrong with just a simple google search. Alix has known me since we could walk so she knows that while I could hold my own in a fight, I wouldn’t do anything that would harm someone else on purpose (and if I did then I would do everything I could to make sure that they are ok afterwards) no matter how much they deserve it. Kagami and Luka know that I will give up my happiness if it means someone else will be happy like when I gave up on Adrien to let Kagami get with him, but sadly they broke up a month later after Kagami learned that he told me to take the high road in the Lila situation. And Chloe. Chloe is the daughter of the Style Queen and the Mayor of Paris so she has a knack for finding out liars, and after a month or two of me being bullied by the class sans, my friends, she came up to me and apologized for bullying me all those years. I forgave her because I know she can be good she just doesn’t have much experience in people being nice to her but my friends were still a little protective of me for a few weeks till they knew that she could be trusted.
They found out my identity by accident but I am so glad that they found out, especially when Chat or should I say Adrien acts like the world owes him something in exchange for ‘protecting’ Paris. I hadn’t meant to find out his identity yet cause I want to find the true black cat before I take his miraculous away from him. I am a true ladybug, but Adrien isn’t a true black cat but Master Fu needed to get both of them out into battle fast so he couldn’t look for a true black cat so Adrien would have to do, but ever since Lie-la showed up he acts as Chloe had before Lie-la. We have been talking about replacing him but I want to find the true black cat and test them to see if they are worthy and I am going to ask if they want the responsibility cause no one should be thrown headfirst into this kind of stuff like I was.
Where was I? Oh Right! I hadn’t meant to find out his identity but Plagg was getting sick and fed up with his behavior so he came to me one night and asked how long till we find the true black cat. I told him soon and that if we didn’t find them before my birthday (which was on Friday) that I would take the ring from him and asked Plagg to give me a clue as to who he is. The clue was his birthday and I thought of when the birthdays of every male blonde I know that is around my age was and landed on Adrien so I asked if i was right and he nodded then had to leave before he woke up. Back to the people I ran into I see that Damian I think is around my age and he also has a dog, doesn’t hurt that he is pretty handsome too.... WAIT WHAT!? ‘NO NO NO! BAD MARINETTE! YOU JUST MET HIM!
After he’s introduced Damian grabs my hand and place a kiss on the back, said “Nice too meet you Angel.” and I start blushing and internally freaking out like ‘OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG! HE KISSED MY HAND! AND HE CALLED ME ANGEL!’ Then I hear Captain growling at Damian. He looks at me slightly waiting to see if he can shred him apart or not. I quickly say “Sorry Damian, Captain’s a little protective of me and doesn’t like strangers being around me.” I say a little worried that he would be offended but to my surprise he says, “I understand.” then he holds out his hand for Captain to sniff which he does and after he does he still is growling but he doesn’t look ready to rip him to shreds at least. Then we hear snickering behind us and Damian glares at the source of the noise which turned out to be his family... OH RIGHT! I am being so rude right now only focusing on Damian and not paying attention to his family. Then Captain and his dog start playing with each other making us laugh.  Then I notice that August starts trying to say my name, “Mariette, Mariette!” Oh that’s the guy I gave August to... AUGUST!!! I completely forgot to tell them what to do with him till his mom is able to get him. “Oh! Hello to you to August.” I say causing him to laugh and try to hug me which causes Dick to hand him to me, “It’s nice to see you again to. How about we call your mom and get you a snack?” He laughs and I say, “I’ll take that as a yes!” I laugh. I then turn to them and say ,“So shall we start walking to the bakery?” A chorus of Yes is the response so I start talking with Damian while Captain and Titus, I learned was his name, continue to play as we walk. Me and Damian talked while we walked and by the time I noticed our surroundings we were across the street from the bakery and as I was about to say we were there someone called my name and I froze.
Damian’s POV
I was having fun (Yes FUN) with the Angel next to me and as she was about to say something when an amber haired girl with glasses and a girl with sausage like hair called her and they looked angry. Maybe they were her friends though judging by the way she froze probably not... Wait why did she freeze? Just as I was about to ask what’s wrong she suddenly says, “Ok well the bakery is across the street just tell them Marinette sent you and could you take Captain and August in with you? Thanks!” She quickly handed the leash to me and August to Dick and ran off to where the other girls were and pulled them around the corner and Captain was desperately trying to follow her and was pulling hard on the leash.
“So we’re going to see what that was about right?” Grayson asks, “I mean she seemed in a hurry to get to them before they got to her and get them out of sight, so something is off right?” “Well I think only one of us should go instead of all of us. It could be personal though so how about we head into the bakery and wait?” Father asks. “Actually Master Bruce I believe Master Damian should go see what is going on, since they get along quite nicely.” Alfred says with a hint of worry in his voice, and while normally I would try to object I really want to get some time alone with the Angel to talk and ,if the chance shows itself, make her blush some more. So I agree and start walking with Titus and Captain who has gotten more desperate to get to her the closer we got. As I was about to round the corner a voice made me stop in my tracks, “-is for hurting Lila Marislut. You destroyed her homework so she gets to destroy your designs.” I then hear shredding noises and hear her crying and begging them to stop. I try to get myself to move and help but her heart wrenching sobs kept me frozen in place.
As soon as the tearing stops I then hear a loud crack and that gets me to move faster than I thought possible. I round the corner ready to commit a murder or help the Angel, preferably both, and as soon as I do I see a scene that breaks my heart. Marinette is sitting on the ground with a large hand print on her cheek and she is surrounded by torn pages and she is trying and failing to not cry. I then notice that Captain and Titus got loose from my grasp and are chasing the girls away and after a block they come back and try to help cheer Marinette up. Just then she notices me and she starts freaking out, “D-Damian wh-what a-are- you doing the-there?” I get down on my knees and start helping her pick up  the torn papers and say, “We noticed that you looked scared to go to those girls and wanted to make sure that you were ok. Good thing I brought Titus and Captain with me.” That makes her laugh though her voice is a little hoarse. “Are you ready to get inside?” She asks though I don’t know why she’s worried about me she just got slapped and had her designs torn up. “Only if you are but if you need a few minutes I can wait with you.” I reply.
“I’ll be fine,” she says, “I’ve been through worse I-” As soon as she says that I feel my blood run cold and boil at the same time. How bad has she been hurt before and who hurt her? Then I notice that she’s still talking “Sorry you don’t want to hear about my problems.Shall we go in?” I then did something that I had never done before but I have seen Grayson do it to Drake after he had a long difficult day at WE, I hugged her tightly and Titus and Captain lick her face. “Sorry I’m not to sure what to do to help cheer someone up but I have seen my brother do this to help. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” I say then I feel her tightly hug me back but I find that I don’t mind it. “No it’s ok I actually needed a hug. Thanks.” We stay like that for a few minutes until she pulls away and I get a better look at her face and I have never wanted to commit a murder this badly. The place she got slapped is starting to swell and her eyes look like they lost the spark they had when we were talking. “Thank You. Really.” “I’m not the best at comforting someone so-” “No I mean Thank you for coming to check on me. Not many people would do that so thanks.” And in this moment I knew that I would do anything for her and protect her as much as possible. We get up and she takes Captains leash and the papers from me and starts to head to the bakery. As soon as we enter I hear my family happily talking with Marinette’s parents about busy and slow days.It seems that August’s mother has already picked him up so I guess this happens quite a bit but that makes me concerned about how often this happens. How often is Angel in danger of akumas (Whatever those are) harming her? I clear my throat and Grayson is the first to notice us, “Oh hey guys ho-” he then notices Marinettes red puffy eyes and the hand print on her face and his big brother instincts kick in, “What happened!? Are you Ok? Who did this?” Then he’s moved out of the way by Marinette’s Dad, “Marinette are you ok do we need to call Chloe, Luka, and Kagami?”
Marinette doesn’t say anything but nods. He then calls out to her mother, “Sabine can you call Chloe, Luka, and Kagami and see if they can come over?” “Already on it honey.” and not even a minute later the door bursts open and a Blonde girl, a Asian blue haired girl, and a chill looking guy with teal hair tackle Marinette in a hug with the blonde asking if she could sue them, the teal guy asking if she needs him to play her song for her, which breaks my heart a little cause he must be her boyfriend, and the blue haired girl asking, “Can I run them through my blade now Mari-hime?” “No Kagami also I have a few guests with me.” They then seem to notice us and they suddenly look ready to pounce at any second with the blonde doing quick introductions, “Hi I’m Chloe, that’s Kagami,” The girl with blue hair bows a little, “and that’s Luka,” The boy gives a nod with his head, “now I want you to answer truthfully, what do you want with Maribug?” “What?” Asked Todd and Drake at the same time. She let’s out an annoyed huff, “I said, What are you intentions with Marinette. You know are you using her, do you want to be friends with her, or what? And answer truthfully we will know if you lie to us and it won’t end well for you. It doesn’t matter who you are we won’t let you hurt Maribug.” She says with a snarl. I don’t know when or how but somehow Marinette’s parents got behind them and are giving us dangerous looks and Captain is back to growling at us. And Angel’s friends look ready to commit murder if anyone harms her.
The looks they give us makes everyone even father and Alfred take a step back. I had multiple questions running through my head at once. What happened to this beautiful Angel to make her friends so protective of her? Wait beautiful? Where did that come from? And why did my heart skip a beat when she looked at me? And why... I’m in love aren’t I? Well guess the city lives up to it’s nickname. 
Find out how this goes in the next chapter. Also we find out how Marinette and Captain met and how he became Hunter.
So I feel like I need to say a few things just so that they are known
1.I have quite a bit of free time but I can’t always get the motivation to write even though I want to get the next chapter out sooner rather than later
2. I have several parts of the story planned out in my head I’m just not sure what leads up to that point what happens to cause the thing to happen, or what happens after ting happens so I’m just running different scenarios through my head and I can’t make decisions easily so I have all these scenarios happening and I’m not sure which one I want and so most of the time I just come up with one when I start writing so sometimes it’ll make sense and other times probably not.
now I don’t know how many chapters I’ll write so the most I’m going to try for now is fifteen chapters and if I have more ideas then there’ll be more. Let me know what you thought of this chapter. See ya guys next time, Bye!
One last thing I don’t have a set time to chapter updates I just plan to write and get them out to you guys as soon as I can.
tags
#iglowinggemma28  #i-am-ironic
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pokeasleepingsmaug · 3 years
Text
Agrotera
     Based off this post . I also started a companion piece to it about Apollo doing music therapy with the girls and his redemption arc for all his problematic rapey actions in the past, so I can post that too if you’re interested. 
     Artemis doesn’t quite remember when Apollo traded his golden bow for something smaller, sleeker, easier to conceal and faster to fire, but she’ll never get used to the gleam of the pistol at his hip, and she’ll never relinquish her prized silver bow. She worked too hard to perfect her skill with it over the long millenia, brought down too many enemies with it, and cried out in a hunter’s triumph when her arrows struck true. She still uses the hand-draw technique like the archers of old, eschews the use of a quiver because they’re clumsy and slow her down when she’s in pursuit. Easier to hold her arrows in the hand that holds the bowstring.
    Archery is an art that’s been lost over time to cheap trick-shots and Hollywood inaccuracies. But she’s a goddess and a huntress, and the tense snap of a bowstring sounds like poetry as she sends an arrow singing through the air. Maybe Apollo’s right and she has a dramatic flair, but she thinks that’s pretty rich coming from the guy who shot plague-arrows into half the Greek army during the final year of the Trojan War. If she ignores the fact that she once ripped a man to shreds with his own hounds, she can believe that Apollo is, in fact, the more dramatic twin.
    The drama queen in question leans against the wrought-iron rail of their third-story apartment’s balcony, pistol gleaming at his hip as he takes another drag from his cigarette. “You can’t save them all, Art,” he tells her on an exhale, and she wrinkles her nose and waves the smoke away. She isn’t worried about the health risks, sometimes even wishes she could die, but the smell is another matter entirely.
    “I could if you helped me,” she tells him, an edge of steel in her voice, and he sighs and rolls his jaw.
    “Fine. The next time you hunt.”
    She’s spent centuries with Apollo and knows when he’s only giving in because he’s tired of arguing, but she’ll take the win because she can’t stand to lose. “You have to take your bow.”
    Apollo looks at her with one perfect eyebrow raised. She nods. “I was going to take it anyway,” he snaps. She doesn’t bother to hide her grin. He stubs his cigarette out against the railing and shoves past her through the sliding glass door, muttering as he stalks down the hallway to his room. They have rooms more as a matter of principle, since neither of them need to sleep. Both of them choose to, sometimes. It breaks up some of the tedium of immortality.
    Artemis takes her twin’s spot at the railing, looks pensively at the sun rising above the city skyline. It seems distant today, the pinks and oranges less vibrant than normal. Apollo does this sometimes to show his annoyance, and still has the nerve to accuse her of being dramatic? He practically invented the concept.
    Artemis has always been most comfortable in the dark, but it’s been decades--or has it been centuries?--since the goddess of night skies and deep woods danced in moonlight filtering through leaves. City streets are her haunt now, hunting monsters of a different kind in the glow of street lamps and neon signs that dull the once-magnificent night sky into something mundane.
   She misses the time when mortals thought there was magic in the night and in the forest, when they used to pour unwatered wine and sing hymns to her, full of awe and fear. She was powerful once, adored. She isn’t either of those things anymore, but somehow she feels stronger than ever. More purposeful.
    She’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, faintly gleaming silver bow and a pile of pale ash arrows resting on the floor at her feet. “Apollo,” she calls, half-annoyed. “We’re hunting for prey, not lovers.”
    “I can’t find my bow.” His voice carries, muffled, from inside the apartment.
    “It’s in the hall closet, hanging on the wall. Right next to the door.”
    “I’m looking in the hall closet!”
    “Apollo. Your bow is bright gold. It glows, for Christ’s sake,” Artemis mutters. She paces down the hall, about to show Apollo exactly where his bow is, when he emerges from the closet with a triumphant shout.
    “I’ll tell Zeus you said that. Hey, can I borrow some arrows?”
    “Oh my God,” Artemis groans, wondering if he just loves to torture her. “How are you even alive?”
    “Probably because I’m immortal. So, arrows?”
    “Fine. They’re more for show, anyway.” She stoops to scoop up her bow and a handful of arrows, leaving about half for Apollo.
    “For show?” He questions, letting his eyes rove over his twin. She’s dressed all in black: black skinny jeans that hug her athletic legs and a black tank top beneath an unzipped black leather jacket. Her revealed skin is pale and gleams faintly silver, thick black eyeliner ringing her eyes, her lips the color of fresh blood. She reminds him of a panther in the breathless moment before a pounce.
    “Also, you can’t wear that. All black everything.” Artemis glares scornfully at his yellow t-shirt.
    “I don’t own anything black,” Apollo tells her matter-of-factly, smiling at her shocked face. “I’m a sun god, Art, not some weird emo moon goddess.”
    “I wouldn’t say that around Selene.”
    “Selene loves me.”
    “Selene tolerates you,” Artemis informs him, ignoring the offended noise he makes. She decides to let Apollo’s questionable wardrobe choices slide this time. She supposes he looks intimidating enough to accompany her, with his artfully messy hair, bright blue eyes, and the faint golden glow of his skin. At the very least he looks not quite human, and that’s probably the best she’ll get from him. Maybe they can do a good cop, bad cop routine or something. They’ve been doing that for centuries anyway, they’ve pretty much perfected it. She whistles once, a short, sharp burst, and her black-and-tan hound rockets off the couch. She reaches an affectionate hand down to scratch his long velvet ears.
    “Do we have to take him? He’s not, you know, inconspicuous.”
    “Aristo has been with me on every hunt since Pan gave him to me!” Artemis scoffs, more offended than ever. The old satyr gave her six dogs and seven bitches back when the world was still new. She still has the entire pack, but Aristo is the only one who comes into the city with her.
    “Where are the rest?” Apollo asks absently as he locks the door behind him.
    “With Hecate.”
    The twin gods head out into the city, walking down the sidewalk like any ordinary mortals might, and turn toward the college campus. Frat houses are usually a good hunting spot. Artemis pauses to smile up at the moon. Selene has it shining its very brightest for her tonight, a hunter’s moon perfectly round and low in the sky. Aristo trots happily at her side, Apollo has been quiet for probably three whole minutes, and she dares to hope, briefly, that she won’t need to hunt tonight.
    Apollo grins as they turn down a street, following a stream of girls in tight dresses hobbling in too-tall heels, and Artemis smacks his arm hard enough to earn a disgruntled yelp. “You’re disgusting.”
    “I look at guys the same way,” he reminds her with a shrug.
    “That doesn’t make it better,” she snaps, beginning to regret bringing him along, but the thought is interrupted by Aristo whining low and urgent in his throat. He bays, giving voice to his full-throated hunting song, and she follows the hound as he tears across the frat house lawn, partygoers stumbling out of his way. Artemis runs after him like she’s just an ordinary girl chasing her escaped dog.
    Apollo curses behind her as he starts running. Aristo waits for them at the front door of the house, still singing, and his claws leave deep gouges in the dark wood as he paws insistently at the door. Artemis shoves it open and follows him immediately up the stairs. He reaches the landing and skids around a corner, baying as he stops in front of a closed door.
    It’s locked but Artemis kicks it open with a crack of hinges sudden as a lightning strike. What good is a door against a god? She sees the boy first, the harsh moonlight streaming through the open window turning his eyes to black pits and deepening the shadows under his cheekbones. He reminds her for an instant of the type of monster she hunted in days long gone. He’s frozen in place as the door bangs against the wall, so stunned he doesn’t even notice the seventy pound dog hurtling toward him until Aristo hits him like a howling torpedo. His arms windmill as he topples out of sight.
    Artemis walks around the bed, lazy and graceful, following the sound of yelling and growling, of sharp gnashing teeth waiting for her command to sink into frail mortal flesh. She finds Aristo pinning the thrashing boy to the carpeted floor with his front paws on his shoulders. “Call off your dog! Please! Get him off me!” The voice is high and hysterical with mortal fear, and Artemis smiles down at him indulgently.
    “I am Artemis Agrotera, and I will deal with you another time.” She calls Aristo off with a sharp whistle. The boy scrambles to his feet, crashing back to the floor as his shoulder collides with Apollo’s thighs. Apollo reaches down and draws him up by the arm, smiling with a menace that can’t quite match his twin’s.
    “We’ll be seeing you,” he promises silkily, gives the arm a gentle squeeze, and stands aside to let the trembling criminal pass. Artemis sinks down on the edge of the rumpled bed, wipes tears from the girl’s cheeks with her thumb, and drapes her black jacket over the bare, shaking shoulders. The girl sobs and pulls the jacket tighter. Artemis makes a shushing noise in her throat and stands, scooping her up bridal-style like she weighs nothing at all.
    The girl hides her face against the goddess’s chest as they leave the house. Fear and guilt war in her, eating her alive with teeth that slice like knives because she knows what will happen. The police will ask her how much she drank and what she was wearing and if she was flirting with him, if she’d given him any indication that maybe she wanted this. The thought turns her stomach, but they’re outside in the cool night air and the moon is so bright it seems to shine just for her.
    Artemis looks down at the girl in her arms, and her heart breaks into a thousand pieces for the first time that night. “I’m taking you to someone who can help.” The walk back to the apartment building is about ten minutes, but the silence and the shaking girl make it seem like eternities. When they arrive, Artemis fumbles her car keys from the pocket of her black skinny jeans and hits the unlock button. “Do you want to sit in the front with me, or in the back with the dog?”
    The girl’s wide brown eyes flit between Artemis’s perfect moon-pale face and Aristo’s floppy ears and kind brown eyes. “The dog, please.”
    “His name is Aristo.” Artemis says, setting the girl on her feet and opening the back door for her. Aristo leaps in, tail wagging, and the mortal girl slides into the seat beside him. “He loves hugs.”
    “Aristo,” the girl murmurs, burying her face in his neck with a shaky breath.  “My name is Laurel.” Artemis’s stomach clenches. Apollo looks like he might be ill as he climbs into the passenger seat. He knows where the first laurel tree still grows, nearly as old as the surrounding hills.
    Artemis starts the car and within minutes they’re speeding out of the city, turning off the highway onto winding back roads, and she rolls all the windows down to feel the wind in her hair and focuses on that to still the angry shaking of her hands. “Hey Art, does Hecate know we’re coming?” Apollo asks as they turn up the long dirt driveway, past a sign that says Crossroads Farm in fading purple paint.
    “She always knows.”
    Sure enough, the front porch light is on and lights are shining through the front windows. “We’re here,” Artemis announces for Laurel’s benefit as she parks.
    “Where are we?” Laurel’s voice fills with fear. Artemis’s heart shatters into a thousand pieces, for what must be the thousandth time tonight.
    “Crossroads Farm,” Artemis tells her, voice gentler than Apollo’s ever heard it. “You’ll be safe, I promise.”
    “Who are you?” Laurel looks at them with wide, suspicious eyes and hugs hard enough around Aristo’s neck that he whines.
    “Artemis, and this is my brother, Apollo.” Artemis waves her hand vaguely in the direction of her brother’s faintly shining face and ridiculous yellow t-shirt. They aren’t so ancient that their names are completely unfamiliar, because Artemis can see recognition stirring in Laurel’s fearful brown eyes.
    “Like the ancient Greeks?”
    Apollo nods. “Something like that. Come on, you’ll like Hecate.”
    Before Artemis can stop him, he reaches toward Laurel’s hand to guide her up the steps. The mortal recoils from him, and Apollo looks so heartbroken Artemis almost pities him. She reminds herself he doesn’t know any better yet--he’s never spent time with a girl like Laurel before. He doesn’t understand the panic in her veins, the constant nagging fear she’ll carry with her for the rest of her life. He’s never heard a girl wake screaming from a nightmare she can’t stop reliving every time she closes her eyes.
    “Shouldn’t we go to the police station?” Laurel asks, but she follows Artemis up the front porch steps anyway. Apollo walks a respectful distance behind her, half-dejected and half-protective, but completely silent. When Artemis opens the door, Hecate is already sitting at the scrubbed pine table with four steaming mugs of tea, the picture of serenity.
    Hecate was called Iphigenia once, and she was the first mortal Artemis rescued; led to a gleaming sacrificial knife by a man who was supposed to protect her. She understands, in a way Artemis will never be able to, the fear and the guilt and the panic that feels like it can stop your lungs from filling. “Hi,” Hecate says simply, gesturing at the mugs. Laurel takes the empty seat beside her, and Artemis pointedly sits in the chair beside Laurel. Apollo huffs as he takes the seat furthest from her. “It’s herbal tea,” Hecate says, answering the girl’s unspoken question. “It will help you sleep without dreams.”
    Laurel nods, wraps her hands around the warm ceramic mug and inhales deeply. “It smells good.” She hesitates, her eyes dancing over the three deities. “Are--are you really Greek gods?”
    Artemis is proud of Apollo, for once, for the way he doesn’t let his face fall. She knows there’s nothing like a tragedy to unravel a mortal’s world; she’s seen it more times than she cares to remember and yet she can’t forget any of them. If something like this can happen--stories that happen on the evening news, to other people--then stories older than street lamps and cars can happen, too.
    “Yes.” Artemis has found, through trial and error, through centuries, that simplicity works best.
    “Artemis is the protector of young girls,” Apollo says, like that explains everything. “She’s been doing this--geez, for how long, Art?” He’s trying too hard to act casual, but Artemis can see he’s shaken. It takes some getting used to; this is only his first time and she has literal millenia of practice. She takes a deep breath and reminds herself to be patient.
    “Since mortals stopped protecting their own daughters. When police began asking a girl what she was wearing, instead of asking a boy why he felt he had the right to take her sense of safety away.”
    “Right. That long.”
    “I was the first she saved,” Hecate volunteers conversationally. “Back when Troy still stood tall on its hill.”
    “That clears things up,” Apollo mutters, rolling his eyes conspiratorially at Laurel. She rewards him with a tiny smile, and Artemis is half-surprised he doesn’t jump up and dance. He only grins, and she knows he’ll take whatever victory he can get even if it doesn’t feel like enough. A smile from Laurel won’t erase his past mistakes.
    “It should clear things up, you were there,” Artemis reminds him. “You built the walls of Troy with your own hands.”
    “Yeah, look how well that worked out.” Apollo pouts into his tea, unable to let go of that centuries-old sting. “Fucking Eris and her fucking apple.”
    Artemis raises an eyebrow. “That was literally ages ago. We have other problems now.” Apollo follows her gaze as it rests on Laurel, sipping her tea and watching them with open fascination.
    “How is this even my life?” Laurel wonders aloud.
    Apollo shrugs, apparently having recovered from his earlier unease. “You’re just lucky, I guess.” The joke falls flat, he hisses in a breath and scrambles to fix his mistake. “Sorry, Jesus, I’m so sorry.” Tea sloshes over the side of his mug as he sets it down carelessly and reaches across the table for Laurel’s hand. She withdraws it and stares flatly into the contents of her mug.
    Apollo’s face is crestfallen as he looks to Artemis for guidance, and she’s amazed that a god can be so painfully dumb. “Smooth,” she barks, patience momentarily snapped. Aristo rests his head on Laurel’s lap, much more comforting than Apollo could ever be, and she strokes him silently.
    “Laurel,” Apollo begins, but she cuts him off with a shake of the head.
    “It’s fine. Can-can I stay here tonight?” Her eyes are wide and wary as she turns to Hecate.
    “Of course. I’ll show you to your room.” The gentle goddess stands, leading the exhausted mortal down the hallway to the left of the kitchen, through the living room, and toward the bedrooms in the back. They’ve done this too many times since Hecate bought this place a couple decades ago; there’s a dozen bedrooms here reserved for the girls Artemis brings. Sometimes they only stay for one night, sometimes for a week, sometimes they’ll leave and show up again unannounced months later, dark circles under their eyes and a constant tension in their shoulders.
    Hecate never turns them away, only cooks them meals with the vegetables from her garden and gives them tea to help them sleep. They spend their days outside, reading in the sunlight or roaming with Artemis and her dogs, wearing loose chitons and carrying bows. There’s two other girls here besides Laurel; Kate, the girl Artemis helped last night, and Andrea, who showed up here a week ago and cried in Hecate’s arms again.
    “Artemis,” Hecate calls down the hall, interrupting her thoughts, “can Aristo sleep with Laurel tonight?”
    Artemis hates to relinquish her hunting partner, but he looks up at her with soft eyes, and she knows he would rather spend the night cuddling with Laurel than chasing her attacker. “Make sure Pelea has the scent,” she tells the dog. He wags his tail once in agreement and pushes through the doggy door to find Pelea. “He’ll be there soon,” Artemis calls back.
    She and Apollo sit in silence, Apollo fidgeting with his empty mug as Artemis waits for her dogs. They’re only gone for a few minutes, Aristo trotting in with Pelea on his heels. He bumps his snout against his mistress’s hand as he trots by. Pelea rests her head on Artemis’s lap, tail wagging as Artemis scratches her ears.
    A few minutes later Hecate glides into the kitchen on silent feet and sighs as she sits at the head of the table. “She’s settled in with Aristo. When are you guys going?” Artemis ducks her head to look out the window, squints up at the huge, bright hunter’s moon, and looks over at her brother.
    “Ready for part two?”
    “What’s part two?” His voice is apprehensive, and Artemis thinks it’s hilarious. She likes that she can still surprise him even after millenia.
    She smiles wolfishly as she stands and stretches, slow and lazy. “The hunt.”
    “Oh. I was wondering why you went by Agrotera earlier.” It’s an epithet he hadn’t heard her use in at least a few centuries, but it was one of the earliest used to describe her. Artemis Agrotera. Artemis of the Hunt.
    She rolls her eyes so hard, she can practically see the back of her own skull. “Don’t tell me you still go by Phoebus.”
    He shakes his head, looking away. “I stopped using my epithets a long time ago.”
    Artemis steps forward and grips his chin, forcing him to face her. She hates the shame she sees there, but she knows it’s been a long time coming. “Apollo Akesios,” she says softly, firmly. “Averter of evil.” Sometimes even gods need to be reminded who they are.
    “I don’t deserve that one. Maybe I never did.” His voice is low and full of sadness, but Artemis isn’t about to let him get away with wallowing. Self-loathing isn’t becoming for the god of the sun.
    “Then earn it now. I don’t have time for your pity-party, Apollo, I have hunting to do. You can either hang out here and mope over Laurel--and we both know it isn’t really about her, anyway--or you can help me catch the asshole who did this.” She releases his chin; he rubs his jaw ruefully. Her grip had slowly tightened the more worked up she became.
    “Fine, Art, geez. But tomorrow I’m going to Greece.”
    “Tell Daphne if she ever wants to be human again, she has a place here,” Hecate interjects from the table. Apollo waves a hand in acknowledgement, trying to ignore the way his stomach drops at the name. He’s barely finished composing himself by the time Artemis is halfway out the door, and he starts after her with a muttered curse. They slide into her silver car, and he doesn’t have time to buckle his seatbelt before she’s peeling down the driveway.
    “You can help me with this anytime you want, you know,” Artemis tells him, voice raised to be heard over the wind roaring through the windows. She’s tired of seeing her brother so lost, so far removed from the god he once was. They all are, except maybe Hades, because there will always be death. But hunting like this, protecting young girls like she used to, it reminds Artemis of who she is. She wants this feeling for her brother, too, because she loves him dearer than all the world of mortals.
    “I’m not much of a hunter, Art.”
    “No, but you invented medicine. You’re a healer. These girls, they need someone. Hecate does what she can, but sometimes it isn’t enough. Sometimes it takes more than herbal tea and an essential oil diffuser. For some of them, positive energy and sunlight doesn’t cut it. Hecate’s a minor goddess, but you? God of the sun, remember? Inventor of medicine and music and poetry. And Selene, she makes the moon shine brighter for them so they’re never caught out in the dark, but you can teach them to carry sunlight in their hearts again. You don’t have to hunt with me, after tonight. But when you get back from Greece,” she shrugs, “there’s a purpose for you, if you want it.”
    Apollo doesn’t have to answer, because Pelea barks suddenly from the backseat. Artemis barely checks her blind spot as she pulls over, parking so quickly she scrapes her tire against the curb. She jumps out of the car and opens the back door for Pelea. Apollo unfolds himself from his seat and jogs alongside Artemis, following the hound.
    “When did you train your dogs to do this?” He wonders idly, not expecting an answer.
    “A couple hundred years ago, maybe? Around the time Ivar the Boneless invaded Ireland.”
    “That was over a thousand years ago, Art.” He looks at her, bemused, knowing she doesn’t care about the specifics. It’s important to him, though. They’ve never kept secrets from each other, and this stings more than he wants to admit. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
    “You and Hermes sort of disappeared for a century or so, I didn’t want to bother you.” Apollo tries to remember this specific disappearance, thinks maybe it was when he and Hermes hung out with Calypso on her island for a while. It’s nice to leave the world sometimes. Pelea trots easily in front of them, scenting the cool breeze, and the moon is huge and high in the sky. It’s barely past the middle of the night.
    “Where’s she taking us?” Apollo grumbles. Artemis, ever the patient hunter, smiles serenely at him and doesn’t grace him with an answer. Pelea’s tail wags in slow arcs. Artemis knows they’re getting closer but she enjoys the pursuit. She hopes the boy is laying in his bed, unable to sleep, feeling in his cowardly bones that vengeance is coming to him. She wants to hope he feels guilty but knows he probably doesn’t, so the most she ever hopes for is fear.
    Pelea bays, just once, the sound that used to be the death-song of so many stags, and Artemis hopes the boy shivers at the sound. She sees him in the distance, a shadow against the horizon, a dark shape moving between houses. Pelea takes off after him eagerly, Artemis and Apollo hot on her heels. Pelea veers around to cut off his escape as the twins reach him.
    Artemis reaches out, a pale arrow clasped in her hand, and rubs the shining silver point down the length of his spine. “I told you I would find you,” she croons, sing-song as a baying hound.
    He stops dead in his tracks so suddenly that Apollo nearly crashes into him. Artemis strokes the arrow down the boy’s back again. She rubs her hand almost seductively along the back of his neck, leans closer, and whispers in his ear, “Turn around and face me.” She releases her hold, lets the arrowhead drag along his shoulder and chest as he obeys her. She tickles him lightly with the tip, just above the place where his heart beats so hard she can see the pulse throbbing in his neck. “Do you remember my name?”
    He nods frantically, too terrified to speak. A sharp smell reaches her nose, she glances down to the spreading stain on the front of his jeans and clucks disapprovingly. “What was my name, again?” She drags the arrow up to the wildly thudding pulse at the juncture of his chin and neck.
    “Art--Artemis A--Agro….” he trails off, she increases the pressure until he starts bawling. “Agrotera,” he chokes. She nods, pleased, and eases back just a bit.
    “I’m not going to kill you,” she purrs, arrow still pressed against his throat. “This time. A quick death is too merciful for men like you.” She sighs, as if she regrets that. “In Sparta, where they worshipped me centuries ago, they gave all their women small knives. That way, if a man ever tried to force himself upon her, she could slash him across the face and the entire world would know what he did. That was a good time for women, when they didn’t need me to protect them.” She stares him down with eerie, unblinking silver eyes. “Do you know her name? The girl you attacked?”
    He shakes his head, and Artemis gently traces the tip of the arrowhead along his jawline. “Her name is Laurel. She’s twenty years old and has a little brother, and she’s studying biology in college. She wants to be a cancer researcher, and travel the world, and she always loved the night until you made her afraid of it.” Artemis pauses, gives him a soft smile. “So now I want you to be afraid of it, too. I think they had it right in Sparta, all that time ago.”
    Quick as thought, she darts the arrow up and slices along his cheekbone. The slash is clean, surgically precise, and will heal in a narrow, smooth pink scar. It’s high enough up that a beard will never hide it. “That custom is long dead, more’s the pity.” She shrugs, twirls the arrow so that it flashes in the moonlight, and tastes the dark blood on the silver arrowhead with the tip of her tongue. “Coward’s blood, I knew it. No descendent of Sparta.” She brings the arrow up again and runs it down the slope of his nose. “No one will know why there’s a slash on your face except you. Every time you look in the mirror, you’ll remember what you did. That is my first gift to you.”
    She smiles, as if he’s just won the grand prize on a game show. There’s something feral in her eyes, a wildness mortals thought dead long ago. The boy is shaking uncontrollably. A first gift implies a second, and he doesn’t want anything except for this to be a dream. “So my first gift was knowledge, and my second is a promise.” She looks at him like she’s waiting for him to thank her.
    When he’s silent, she shrugs and continues. She inspects the arrow as she speaks, not looking at him. He doesn’t deserve the attention of her gaze. “I promise that I will be watching you until the day you die. I promise that if you ever do this again, if you ever raise your hand to a woman, I will be the last thing you see.”
    She reaches down, scratches Pelea’s ears affectionately. “This is Pelea. The dog I had with me earlier was Aristo. They’ve been alive longer than this country.” She gestures vaguely with the arrow; he instinctively raises his arms to protect his face. Artemis tries to hide the savage pleasure this brings her, but can’t quite keep the triumph from her ice-cold eyes. “They were given to me by Pan, the god of shepherds and wild places. Did you know he invented panic?” She tilts her head thoughtfully. “I perfected it, though.” The moonlight gleams off her perfect white teeth as she smiles.
    “Once they have your scent, they can find you anywhere in the world. There is nowhere you can hide, nowhere my hounds cannot find you.” Her voice is mild, almost pleasant, and it makes the boy sob with a terror that’s older than instinct. Centuries ago, humans feared the gods; that fear is buried just beneath the surface of their conscious minds. It’s nearly effortless for Artemis to awaken it. “Do you understand me, mortal?”      
    He nods rapidly.
    Artemis smiles and steps back. “Good. You may go now.”
    She turns on her heel, crisp as a soldier on parade, and walks gracefully toward the car with Pelea roaming ahead to sniff a tree trunk. Apollo glances at the boy, takes in the abject terror and awe on his face as he watches Artemis walk away, and gives the boy a smile that could be mistaken for friendly before he follows his sister. The walk is quiet, with only the swishing of their feet through dew-damp grass and Pelea’s deep whuffs as she scents the air. Artemis opens the back door and the hound leaps in happily.
    The twins climb into their seats and buckle their seatbelts, and Artemis drives them out of the city back toward Hecate’s farm. “Can’t you take me back to the apartment?” Apollo whines, not sure if he can face those girls when he can still remember Daphne morphing into a laurel tree to escape his touch.
    “I like to be there when they wake up. Someday, you will, too.”
    “After Greece, maybe.”
    “You’ve waited too long to apologize.”
    “I waited too long to learn my mistakes,” Apollo corrects.
    She smiles over at him, full of pride. “I knew you would, though. I hoped it would be centuries ago, but better late than never.” She shrugs, like a few centuries isn’t a big deal when you can never die. “If I’d known hunting was what would make you realize, I would have taken you with me a long time ago.”
    “Art, that was…. He looked at you like they all used to look at us. You were terrifying. I haven’t seen you like that in thousands of years. Agrotera, indeed.”
    She smiles, pleased. “Mortals haven’t changed much, really.” She turns up the long dirt driveway of Crossroads Farm. Hecate left the porch light on for them, but the windows are dark this time. Artemis puts the car in park and kills the engine before she turns in her seat and fixes her bright silver eyes on him. “So will you be here in the morning?”
    She’s really asking if he wants to see Laurel again, and Apollo knows it. And he does want to, but he can’t. Not yet. First he needs to see a different laurel, a tree nearly as old as the hills and twice as wise.
    He shakes his head. “I’ll be in Greece at first light. Tell Laurel,” he blows out a breath between pursed lips. “Tell her I’ll be back by dinner.”
    “I’ll tell her, if she asks,” Artemis promises, knowing she probably won’t. She hopes Apollo doesn’t pick up on that, but his face falls before he can stop it. She’s spent millenia reading his emotions, and her heart breaks into a thousand pieces for what must be the millionth time that night. She draws her twin into a hug. “Good luck, Apollo Akesios.”
    He wraps his arms around her. “I promise I won’t disappear for a century this time. This is my place now, just like yours.” He ends the hug and straightens, brows pinched together in the middle. “Should we end the lease on the apartment?”
    “No. That’s my base of operations in the city. I just let you crash there because you were a broke street musician.”
    Apollo huffs, offended. “Not anymore, though. I’ll see you tomorrow, Art.” He sighs and rolls his jaw. Artemis nods and opens the car door. When she reaches the porch and turns back to the car, the passenger seat is empty. She opens the door and steps into the kitchen. She hangs her gleaming silver bow on the hook by front door and tiptoes down the hallway.
    She peeks into three bedrooms, at the girls finally able to sleep peacefully, snoring hounds curled up at their feet. It’s not adoration like she once had, but it’s still a home, and these healing girls are just as much a family as her band of huntresses ever were. For what must be the first time that night, she thinks her heart might be whole.
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rosemaidenvixen · 3 years
Text
A Secret’s Worth
Chapter 13: Jim
Ao3
Content warning: descriptions of raw meat, mentions of violence, toxic thought patterns.
“You know hon, you’re going to have to talk to Toby eventually.”
Jim jolted, smacking the top of his head against the underside of the cabinet, it didn’t hurt in the slightest, but the loud crunch as he made contact did not bode well for the cabinet.
Barbara winced and set her coffee mug down on the table “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,”
Jim pulled back and stood up straight, grimacing when he caught sight of the broken boards and deep gouges his horns had left in the wood. They were going to have to hire someone to come in and fix that “It’s ok,”
“I’m just...concerned, if you two are having problems things aren’t going to get better unless you both address them,”
“Yeah, I know,”
He regretted the flippant words as soon as he said them, getting a glimpse of the look of hurt and worry on his mom’s face.
 “Can you tell me why you guys are fighting?” she said softly
Jim looked away, turning his eyes back down to his...food on the counter “It’s complicated,” 
It didn’t look like that answer satisfied Barbara at all, but rather than push further she just frowned and went back to her breakfast.
Jim felt bad for being so evasive, but that was vastly overshadowed by just how relieved he was that she was willing to drop it. He finished grabbing the empty jars and frozen plastic wrapped rabbit and headed over to the table to join her. Eating this close to sunrise usually gave him wicked stomach cramps, but he’d put it off for too long already, and he was too hungry to wait another hour and a half to eat a normal breakfast.
So he didn’t waste any time downing all the jars and getting started on the rabbit.
“Are just you and Toby having problems, or does this involve the girls to?”
Jim froze mid bite, a fresh wave of guilt and anxiety crashing into him. The hand holding the half eaten rabbit dropped down to the table. He hung his head, the weight of his horns tugging it down even further. Even without looking he could practically feel the hurt on his mom’s face, which made him feel even worse.
“I’m sorry, I know I’m prying, but I’m worried about you,”
He heard her setting down her fork and clasping her hands together “I don’t want you to feel like you have to tell me everything that goes on with you and your friends, but…” 
Barbara sighed “I was young once to. I know how high emotions can run, and how the littlest things seem to matter so much-- but they aren’t worth throwing your friendships away,”
Jim risked raising his head to look at her better. Briefly meeting her eyes and getting a peek of her melancholy smile.
As soon as she caught sight of him, Barbara sat up a little straighter and continued, emboldened by the eye contact “If you did something wrong, and I’m not saying you did, avoiding them won’t make it go away. Things can’t get better if you don’t apologize and start rebuilding trust. And if one of them did something to upset you…”
She paused, pulling in a deep breath “Then you have every right to feel hurt and angry, but you need to tell them that. Your friends can’t read your mind, you need to communicate how you’re feeling with them,”
Expectant silence filled the air, Barbara’s gaze stayed on him, patiently waiting for his response.
Jim forced himself to maintain eye contact, very deliberately did not ball his hands into fists, and only opened his mouth to speak once he was sure he could do it in a neutral tone of voice “You’re right...I’ll try to talk to them at lunch today, see if we can clear the air”
Whether she actually believed him or saw the cracks in his facade and decided not to push him further, Barbara’s only response was to smile, give a soft ‘I think that’s a great idea’, and go back to eating.
Which made him feel ten times worse about the fact that he intended to do no such thing.
He looked back down at the rabbit in his hand, stomach in knots. Even though it was the absolute last thing he felt like doing, Jim lifted the rabbit back up and forced himself to take another bite.
When you mess up you need to apologize, when your friends mess up you need to let them know that they hurt you.
But what do you do when it’s both of those things? Or maybe even neither?
He knew his mom was only trying to help, but this was way out of her league.
Jim wasn’t trying to keep secrets or shut her out. But Toby and the girls were straight up accusing her of abuse. How could telling her do anything but hurt her? 
They had threatened to send her to prison for crying out loud.
And maybe he was wrong or maybe they were, but bottom line, Jim couldn’t tell Toby and the girls the truth.
If this was how they reacted to just some scratches on a door...he couldn’t risk it.
He swallowed and glanced at what was left of the rabbit through the plastic, butchered and cleaned but still very clearly a rabbit, the ends he’d been chewing on bright red and bloody.
There was a monster here all right, but it wasn’t his mom.
Jim forced down the last of the macabre excuse of what passed for his breakfast and hurried back into the kitchen to start on their lunches. When it was time for Barbara to leave she kissed him on the cheek and thanked him before heading out the door.
And didn’t say anything about the fact he’d just made two instead of three, even though he knew she’d noticed.
He did his best to avoid thinking about it; but before he knew it the sun was up, he was normal again, and it was time to leave for school.
Jim sluggishly changed out of his now baggy t-shirt and jeans into his regular clothes, threw his messenger bag over his shoulder, and forced himself out the door, making a bee line for his bike. It didn’t look like Toby was waiting around to ambush him. But Jim didn’t want to give any openings just in case he was hiding in the bushes, which he’d tried a few days ago.
Fortunately that didn’t happen, and Jim was able to start pedaling to school in peace.
As glad as he was about being about to get to school without having to dodge a confrontation, Jim had definitely been taking Toby’s presence on their morning ride for granted. Less than two weeks and he already couldn’t stand the silence.
But as much as it sucked that’s just the way things had to be now.
All too soon he pulled up to the school. Jim headed around the building towards the bike rack, not one of the ones he and Toby liked to use, but the one near the gym that Steve and his cronies frequented. Hopefully they’d already gone in and Jim could avoid running into them directly.
His heart sank when he pulled up and saw Steve and Logan chatting by the end of the rack. So much for avoiding confrontation. Trying to be as discreet as possible, Jim quietly dismounted and started locking in his bike on the opposite side of the rack from them, praying to go unnoticed.
Unfortunately he wasn’t that lucky.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing, parking your dweeby bike next to ours?” Steve stomped over, a snickering Logan right on his heels.
Jim slammed his lock shut, what little remained of his patience gone “I thought that when people saw my lame bike next to your cool one it would make yours look better by comparison,” he said in a complete deadpan.
Steve’s face blanked as he faltered, unable to come up with a response. Jim tried to take advantage of the lull to get away, but he wasn’t quick enough. Steve stepped in front of him and snarled, looming in his personal space to block his exit. 
“You’d better tell me what your game is!”
Jim met Steve’s gaze without flinching, normally he wouldn’t try to butt heads with a guy who was called ‘Psycho Steve’ for darn good reason, but after everything he’d been through in the past week and a half Jim couldn’t be bothered to tip toe around him right now “Figure it out yourself Steve, because believe it or not I have bigger problems than your microscopic IQ,”
In hindsight that had probably been the worst thing he could have said. Steve’s face darkened, arm shooting out and grabbing Jim’s collar. 
Logan, still hovering behind him, let out a short laugh “Wrong answer Lake,” he said with a smirk.
Steve didn’t say anything, slowly raising his other hand in a fist. Jim winced preemptively and tried to brace himself for the coming blow.
But just before Steve could start rearranging his teeth, Coach Lawrence poked his head out of the gym door, causing all three of them to jump in surprise “Class starts in five minutes, everyone cut the chit chat and get in here!”
He snapped his head in their direction “Kish, Palchuk, that means you!”
Steve growled, but dropped his fist. The second Coach ducked back inside he shoved Jim into the bike rack before stomping towards the gym.
“This isn’t over Crybaby,”
He stalked off, Logan following shortly after. 
Jim glowered at Steve’s retreating back before pulling himself up and heading to his own class.
Getting teeth pulled was more fun than spending any time within a ten foot radius of Steve, but it was still better than the burning, queasy feeling he got in his gut whenever Toby, Claire, Mary, or Darci looked at him.
He breathed deeply and tried to force the sudden spike of stress down to a manageable level, Jim knew they meant well, he really did, and he knew all this stuff with curfews and scratched doors was scaring them, but he couldn’t tell them. 
Last week had been the closest he’d ever come to spilling the beans, when Toby had jumped him in the bathroom, begging Jim to tell him the truth, promising he wouldn’t go to the cops, Jim had almost done it. He had been so close to just unloading and telling Toby everything. But at the last second he’d bolted. Later once he’d had time to sit down and really think about what had just happened, he’d been really glad that he didn’t.
No matter how much Toby and the girls begged and demanded and insisted Jim could trust them with the truth, the fact was he just couldn’t, no matter how much he did or didn’t want to.
He fumbled with dial in an effort to open his locker.
Jim was a monster, and worse a liar. If the girls ever figured out what he really was...well they wouldn’t run screaming in terror that’s for sure. Maybe Darci would, but chances are she’d be helping Claire decapitate him while Mary filmed the whole thing. And Toby…
His throat tightened unexpectedly, struggling to grab his textbooks as his hands started to shake. That was the worst part, deep down he just didn’t know how Toby would react. Would he be crushed by the knowledge that his ‘best friend’ had never been what he’d seemed? Horrified that he’d never spotted the monster living across the street from him? Furious that Jim had lied to him for over a decade?
Knowing Jim’s luck it would be some unholy combination of all three.
Shutting his locker with much more force than needed, he turned down the hall towards Señor Uhl’s room.
So telling the truth was off the table, but the four of them had made it clear that they weren’t going to let this go any time soon. And they still had the pictures, and the recording Mary made.
Jim had been on edge for days after they’d first confronted him. Terrified that they’d gone ahead to the police with their evidence, and at any moment cops bust open the door and drag his mom away in handcuffs.
But a few days passed without incident, aside from hundreds of texts from all four of them, not an exaggeration, literally hundreds, Jim had slowly allowed himself to relax.
That and the fact that they were still badgering him told Jim that they needed more than just the photos and the audio to go to the police with, they needed him to. And if he didn’t go along with them there was nothing they could do to his mom.
Of course that didn’t explain why his phone had been disturbingly silent for the past two days.
He shook off the worries, Jim had more than enough of those right now, the last thing he needed was to go inventing more. If his friends had realized they couldn’t get him to say anything well then good for them. The important thing was for Jim to stay silent and not respond to their prying, in person or over the phone. As a long term solution it sucked, but he wasn’t about to get better alternatives any time soon.
His stomach was constantly in knots and it felt like he was walking on eggshells 24/7, but he couldn’t take the risk of dropping his guard even a little.
Jim rounded the corner only to freeze midstep. Two people were standing on the other end of the hall quietly chatting with each other. But not just any two people; Toby and Mary. And at the sound of his footsteps their gazes swiveled towards him, piercing him on the spot.
His heart rate tripled.
Ok, no big deal, looks like he was taking the long way to spanish today. 
Heart still going a mile a minute, Jim pivoted on his heel, stopping dead when he saw Claire and Darci in the hall behind him, blocking any escape.
Two might be a coincidence, but four? No way. This was an ambush, how long had they been planning this?
Now that he was pinned from either side, they started walking towards him.
Yep, definitely an ambush.
Jim tightened his grip on the strap of his bag. Stay calm, they might have cornered him but they couldn’t make him talk. And if he didn’t talk they couldn’t get anything that they could use to press charges against his mom. The five of them couldn’t stay here in the hall forever, sooner or later a teacher would come by to shuffle them all off to their classes. All Jim needed to do was stay quiet and wait them out.
The four stopped their approach at about three feet away. Jim braced himself, getting ready for the onslaught of begging and accusations.
Toby stepped up to him, breaking the silence “Jim, you don’t have to say anything, I-- we just need to tell you…” he dropped his gaze “We’re sorry, I’m sorry,”
Jim’s jaw dropped.
He what?
There were no words any one of them could have said that would have floored him more. He wondered if he’d actually heard Toby correctly. Right now Jim was too stunned to even react.
“All of us are,” Claire chimed in “We shouldn’t have pushed so hard, especially after you told us we were wrong,”
For over a week Jim had been hoping against hope for them to just drop this and back off, but now that that was, apparently, happening it almost didn’t seem real. If it weren’t for the fact that the school wasn’t made of gingerbread and he still had his pants on Jim would’ve thought that he was dreaming “I-- you-- you what?”
Darci looked nervously from side to side “Can we take this into the computer lab?” she gestured to the door off to the side “Somewhere a little more private than the hallway?”
“Uh...ok,”
They all stepped into the unoccupied room, Darci flicking on the lights and Toby pulling the door shut behind them.
Meanwhile the shock had subsided and suspicion was starting to creep in.
Did they really want to let this go, or were they just trying to get him to drop his guard?
 Jim leaned against one of the desks in a way that he hoped came off as casual “So…what exactly is it you guys are saying?”
Toby grimaced “We shouldn’t have kept forcing the issue of the whole basement thing and your curfew the way we did, if you say everything with you and Dr. Lake is cool….we believe you,”
Jim slowly turned to look each of them in the eye, trying to spot any traces of nervousness or dishonesty “Are you guys for real on this?”
“Yeah,” Darci stepped forward “This is your family, as soon as you said everything was fine we should have just butted out,”
Claire came up beside her “That goes for all of us, we’re really sorry we pushed it too far and made you uncomfortable,”
Jim didn’t quite know what to think, on one hand this was exactly what he’d dreamed of happening for over a week, but on the other...there was one person here who hadn’t said anything yet, who was known for having a stubborn streak powerful enough to crush diamonds.
He turned towards Mary, not even trying to hide the distrust on his face “Then what about the recording you made?”
In the second biggest twist of the day, Jim was taken aback to see that Mary actually looked genuinely...remorseful “I lied, I didn’t record anything,” she came up to him and plopped her phone into his hand “Check for yourself, and you can go ahead and delete the pictures of the….racoon scratches,”
Her voice dropped “And I’m sorry to…” 
Jim heard her apology, but for the most part he was preoccupied with the device in his hand. To be honest he’d been starting to think this all sounded too good to be true; but if Mary was actually letting him go through her phone--
He still couldn’t believe he was holding it, it was like being handed the holy grail, only somehow more sacred.
Only about a minute or so of browsing through her phone and Jim knew Mary was telling the truth, the photos of the scratched door were there, she hadn’t sent them to anyone. And there was no audio recording in her main files or her autobackup. 
A tiny part of Jim was ticked that she’d tried to trick him using an imaginary recording, but that was eclipsed by the enormous relief he felt that the damning words he’d said had never been captured in the first place. 
It was like a massive weight being lifted off his shoulders as Jim permanently deleted the photos of the basement door. After handing the phone back he looked around at everyone, torn between his remaining doubts and giddiness at the idea that this may be over after all.
“So you guys are really going to stop bugging me about my curfew and rules and everything?”
They all nodded.
“Yep,”
“Absolutely,”
“One hundred percent,”
Toby came up to him and put a hand on his shoulder, smiling wide “At lunch today what do you say we meet up at the food truck, figure out what we’re going to do over spring break, and forget all this ever happened?”
A tiny smile of his own curled on Jim’s face “Sounds great,”
They all filled out of the computer lab, Jim was last, flicking off the light switch as they left, actually relaxed for the first time in weeks.
Against all odds Toby and the girls had actually decided to let it go.
Jim felt so light he was practically walking on air. It was over. This horrible, screwed up mess was finally over. His secret was safe, his mom was safe. He wouldn’t have to spend every day swinging back and forth between anxiety and crippling loneliness. Jim could actually talk to his friends again, go back to actually having a life.
For the first time in a long time things were looking up.
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k7l4d4 · 3 years
Text
Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 5 Part 7
Once more, I arrive, with Midnight Striga in tow!! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!
Boyd was utterly bored. Groaning, he slung his knife, Radical Chop, over his shoulder, lightly kicking the twitching corpse next to him, one of Reticulus’ leftovers. Those were never fun to deal with, ‘cause they were already dead! What was the point of a killer guarding a corpse, instead of, you know, killing? Eh, maybe he could practice his mutilations, he had been getting a little rusty in that regard. Humming to himself, he slung the ragged body beneath his feet into an upright position; a girl from the looks of it, brown hair styled into three rings on the top of her head, her left eye gouged out, and missing her tongue. Glancing down he saw that her heart and stomach had been extracted. By his estimate, he’d say she was about 12, verging on 13. Ah man, he could’ve had such fun with her!
Sighing, he twirled his knife before pointing the tip towards her. The knife lengthened, stretched, and bent, contouring around the edges of her face, slowly and cleanly skinning off the layer of tissue. If only that eye wasn’t missing, then he could’ve added it to his collection! Ah well, better luck next time. While he was seemingly distracted, one of the nearby Witches decided to make a break for it, a boy whose hair covered his eyes and possessed rather bat-like ears. Without even glancing his way, Boyd’s knife shot out like a bullet, cleanly slicing through his throat in an instant. He didn’t even have a chance to scream, how boring!
“Stupid Witches, can’t even die properly.” He grumbles, flicking the boy’s blood off of his precious blade. “Stupid Reticulus, never leaving any good corpses to slice up.” He briefly wonders again as to why, exactly, he was being stuck with this stupid job. He was one of the Squadron’s best killers, so why were his talents being squandered? He mulled it over in his head, knife idly slicing through the girl’s corpse, when a creak drew his gaze forward. As the reason finally clicked, he deadpanned. He was being used as bait, and as a test; great.
Three kids stood in front of him, staring at him like he was some kind of fucking monster; to be fair, he was one, no doubt about that, but it was always so annoying when people looked at him like that. He briefly contemplated trying to figure out which one Reticulus wanted to test, but decided it would be more fun to just kill the little shits. Not like they really mattered anyway. The chunky girl with the glasses started doing that stupid circle thing they did to cast spells, can’t have that. His knife shot out, smoothly slicing through her wrist and across her face, stabbing through her eyes into the brain.
Before the other two could do more than widen their eyes, he struck again. His blade ripped through the neck of the Mint-headed girl, and wasn’t that a color, sending her head rolling. Before the smaller boy could even scream, the knife slammed through his skull, entering through one ear, and exiting out the other. Scowling, he called Radical Chop back to him. No trouble at all, not even worth the effort of being clean. He sighed, only for a familiar, sharp pain to rush through his body; he had been stabbed. Glancing down, he was both surprised and not to see a dagger driven into his gut, the angle allowing for it to be dragged into his other vital organs easily. He spoke up, perfectly calm in the face of his death. “You can drop the invisibility now.”
As the air next to him rippled and faded, he was pleasantly surprised to see another kid, her face carefully blank save the familiar rage in her eyes, the kind he saw in all the kids who saw him kill their friends. He smirked. “Gotta say, pretty cold of you to throw your friends into the grinder like that.”
The girl snorted, calling over her shoulder. “Gus! Drop the illusion.”
“Got it!” A young voice called out, the corpses of the kids fading along with the blood coating his precious blade, the kids from before shimmering into view, ready to pounce if things turned dicy for the kid stabbing him at the moment.
Boyd snorted. He had underestimated them. He gave the girl who had effectively killed him a smirk. “So, you’re the little rat Retic wants to test, eh?” He laughed at her furious expression. “If you’re looking for him, he should be up ahead, going over the latest batch of bodies. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Before they could blink, he whipped his blade, his beautiful Radical Chop, up to his head, driving it through his own skull.
Gus gagged, while Amity and Willow looked on stoically. It was certainly an improvement over Gus actively heaving and the girls shouting. It was to be expected, as this was the fifteenth kill by this point, though they had only gone for the stealth option when they saw how quickly he had killed that Witch trying to get past him.
Amity glanced down at the Witch the man had killed. She recognized him. “Hey, I think I know this one.”
Luz walked over, glancing down at the bat-eared boy, curious. “Really? Who is he?”
Amity shrugged. “I honestly don’t know him personally, but Skara was interested in him a little.” She sighed, knowing that she’d have to deliver the news to her friend. “I really hope she takes this well.” She glanced up at the feeling of a hand on her shoulder, seeing Willow giving her a comforting, if hesitant smile, which she returned.
Luz sighed. “Let’s go, we’ve still got to take down Retic if we want this to end.” The others nodded. Bracing themselves, they moved, ready for the fight to come, or so they thought.
Eda moved to Lily’s side, shaking her roughly. “Come on Sis, we don’t have time for this!” She cried, frantically gesturing to the crowd under attack. She bit her lip, tilting Lily’s head up. “Listen, Sis, I know we usually don’t see eye to eye, but if you can’t get out of your head, that crowd is going to die.” She thought she saw a flicker of light in her eyes. “You always said you wanted to be in Bonehead’s Coven to help people, well now’s your chance to prove it! Those people up there? They came here to see you, because they believe in you! Are you really going to let them down!?” She got down on her knees, pleading. “Sis, I need your help, as painful and ridiculous as it sounds, it’s the truth! Please!” She glanced back at Rudolph, who had paused, enjoying the show. The bastard was enjoying watching her beg for her sister’s help.
Rudolph snickered, and laughed. “It truly is amusing to see! Earlier, I had lamented your decision to keep the wretched thing alive, but I see now that I was wrong!!” He cackled, relishing the look of enraged confusion on Eda’s face, even as the crowd desperately fought to survive.
“What in hell are you talking about, you psycho!!” Eda growled, bracing herself to defend if necessary.
Rudolph gave her an ugly smirk, oozing amusement. “Simple. You may not have killed her body, but you certainly killed her spirit! She’s lost the will to live, I’d say!” He cackled, soaking in the look of dawning horror on Eda’s face, the soul-crushing realization of what her display had done, even if she couldn’t comprehend how.
“No.” Eda breathed out, slowly walking away from Lily. “That wouldn’t happen, not with her! She’s too strong for that to happen!”
“Is she?” Rudolph mused, genuinely curious. “Everything we’ve gathered has pointed to a woman with a rather fragile ego; seeing her baby sister showing her up once again must’ve been quite the shock.” He was amused at Eda’s denial; for all she claimed to be the strongest on the Isles, a statement not totally devoid of fact, she seemed to be a tad oblivious to the fortitude of those around her.
“Gathered…” Eda muttered, her eyes widening. “You’ve been spying on her!?”
“Oh her, the schools, the government, you, everyone really. We carefully staked this out ever since we arrived.” He placed his hands on his hips, looking pleased with himself. “I must say, we certainly displayed an impressive amount of restraint, building all of this up.” He shrugged. “Normally, we just come and kill everything and everyone we come across. It was quite the learning experience!”
“You…” Eda growled, pure hate coloring her voice. “Just who do you think you are!?”
“Why, my dear, I think I’m the one leading the attack on your people, at the moment at least.” Rudolph cheekily replied. “After all…
“... We are the ones who hold the power in this situation.”
Mattholomule silently cried behind a stand, the crazed laughter of the maniac out front still ringing in his ears. He had just seen a woman torn limb from limb by flying chains, her organs and blood splattered all about. Bria sat next to him, biting her lip, while Gavin and Angmar played Rock-Paper-Scissors to figure out what to do. That choice was taken from them, however, when a chain yanked Bria out of hiding, prompting the three to scream in fear.
“It is simply the way of the world, after all. The powerful thrive, the weak die. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Emira held in a curse, while Edric hyperventilated next to her. Two squads of the invaders had just finished corralling a group of kids into a corner. She closed her eyes, trying to tune out the screams, Edric silently crying next to her, as the Mages ripped the children apart in a hail of magic. Glaring daggers at the murderers, Emira paused, a plan coming to her. Whispering to Edric, who nodded firmly in agreement, the two slunk into the shadows.
“Why, it is only natural for those with power, namely us, to do with it as we- HURK!”
Reticulus loomed over a potential donor, their limbs spread by his veins, dislocated from his body and acting as ropes to bind and restrain his target. He licked his lips. It wouldn’t do for the fools to potentially damage his prize with unnecessary struggling, now would it? Just as he reeled back to rip his prizes from the worthless husk before him, his body registered the sensation of a blade digging into his arm.
“Just shut your fucking mouth.” Eda warned, the butt of her staff slammed into the sadist’s gut. Seeing his hands take on that icy glow, she raised her leg, slamming him back with a kick to the chest. “You don’t know anything about the people of the Isles!” She shouted, her eyes spotting Bump summoning some Abominations in the stands, directing them at Rudolph’s troops.
“You think just because you’ve got a lot of power, you get to throw it around, and we’ll just take it?” She countered his frost with a fireball, landing a cracking blow across his jaw. When Rudolph slammed his hands against the ground, summoning an encroaching sheet of frost, she ripped it away with a shockwave of magical force.
“Your resistance to the inevitable is growing irksome!” He yelled, forming a fang of ice around his hand, lashing out at Eda. She blocked his blow with her staff, grunting as he forced her back. Spines of ice formed along his arms, stabbing towards Eda. “Your people are a pack of sheep, blindly following the words of a false prophet in their inane desire for safety!!” He encased her wrists in ice, preventing her from casting, before slamming his forehead into her eyes. “You may well be the strongest on the Isles, but that title is as hollow as their leader’s words!” He slashed his blades at Eda’s sides, a cry of pain ripping from her throat. Unbeknownst to either combatants, Lilith twitched at Eda’s cries.
“I…! Have stood on my own two feet… my entire life!” Eda choked out, hands grabbing at the claws currently pinning her in place. 
“I do what I want to do, nothing more… nothing less…!” 
Bria screamed, feeling the skin of her arms and legs stretching from the chains pulling her in either direction. The pain was like nothing she had felt before. Angmar and Gavin were being pinned in place, metal blades pushing into their hands to keep them from casting. She was… she was going to die here. Tears came to her eyes at the thought.
The maniac tormenting her gave a demented giggle, gesturing for the chains to rip her apart, once and for all.
“Stay away from Bria!” A young voice shouted. The agent turned in shock, his casting forgotten, as a fist as large as his torso careened towards him, pulping his skull. Standing defiantly, was Matty, tears of rage in his eyes.
“But for all that I hate Bonehead… I love the Isles… and the people who call it home…!” 
With the plan prepped and ready to go, Emira glanced towards Edric. Grimly, she nodded, with him flashing a thumbs up in response. In perfect sync, the two yanked on the cords they had set up, releasing a colossal explosion of smoke into the groups of killers. Working in concert, the twins cast a spell onto the two groups. When their vision cleared, both groups saw the other as a squad of Coven Guards. Reacting to the apparent enemy, the two sets of invaders unleashed their magic upon each other, and in a matter of moments, all were dead. The twins dropped the spell, clutching each other in relief.
“So if you think I’m just going to stand back… and let you kill people because you feel like it… then you’re even crazier than you look!!”
With a scream of rage, Luz drove her blades into Reticulus’ eyes, while Willow used her vines to rip free the near-victim, Amity conjuring up her Abomination to cushion the fall, Gus using his Illusions to guide the way to the exit. Using his broad back as leverage, Luz pushed herself off of his body, landing in a crouch near the others, eyes glaring daggers at the hulking monster before them.
Rudolph scoffed, his humor long gone. “And did you forget that my magical frost builds up and hampers you further the more of it you are exposed to? Hmm?” He accused, eyes narrowed in contempt.
“Nope!” Eda gamely replied. “I just decided I hated the look of you more than I was afraid of dying against you.” Her cheeky grin turned daring, eyes bright with challenge. “Even if I die, I’ll have died fighting for my freedom. Give me your best shot, you two-bit bully.”
With a roar of rage, Rudolph reared back his arm, fully intending to skewer the arrogant Witch who dared to challenge his might! His eyes widened in surprise, however, when his attack clashed against a raised staff, brilliant aquamarine eyes glaring at him.
“Stay. Away. From my sister.” Lilith hissed.
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need-a-new-hobby · 4 years
Text
The Eyes Have It
note: this fic took like 3 days to write. hope yall like it. did it for the derek but there’s a little spencer x piper as always
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Piper walked into the bullpen later than usual, two cups of coffee held in her hand. Her eyes took notice of three things. The first was Anderson trying to balance a mug on his forehead which she couldn’t judge. His job was mostly paperwork, no doubt he got bored. The second was Derek chatting with Erin Strauss. As in the superintendent Erin Strauss. Their boss’s boss. Grandboss, if you will. The third was most of the team gathered around Emily’s desk staring at Derek and Strauss. She walked over to the other end of the bullpen, dumping her bag near her desk before rolling her chair over to the girls and Spencer. “What’s happening?”
“Some moron posted a blog called ‘What Would Carl Sagan Do?’.” Spencer snickered.
“Spence, I love you but uh… I was talking about Morgan and Strauss,” she said, passing him his coffee.
“Wait. You haven’t heard?” Garcia raised her eyebrows and Piper narrowed her eyes, tilting her head at her.
“Are you gonna tell me or not?”
“Hotch is stepping down as Unit Chief. He’s been getting heat from Strauss.”
“Stress from Strauss?” Piper tried to stop herself snickering and Emily whacked her arm. “Sorry, not the time, I know. But why?”
“The bureau thinks that his ability to lead the team has been compromised ever since Foyet,” Spencer explained from behind her and she nodded.
“That makes sense.”
“It does?” Garcia scoffed.
“Well, yeah.” Piper shrugged. “Last week, he practically launched himself unarmed and unprotected into a hostage negotiation. Our last case, he walked away from a suicide by cop incident. Strauss’s doubt makes sense. I’m not saying Hotch shouldn’t be Unit Chief but…”
“No, I get it,” Emily sighed as she wrung her hands. “Foyet’s distracting him.”
“So, why’s Morgan with Strauss? Oh nooo….” Realisation dawned on Piper as she groaned, leaning on her elbows. “He’s acting Unit Chief, isn’t he?” Spencer rubbed her shoulder. “He’s never gonna let this go.”
“Also, rumour has it, he went to see Tamara Barnes again this morning. For coffee,” Garcia whispered.
“Penelope’s over-exaggerating,” JJ laughed. “She asked him to go to the preliminary hearing with her, that’s all.”
Emily just sighed. “So, we're just supposed to move forward without any discussion?”
“After Foyet, I think we have to be ready for anything,” Spencer remarked, looking up at Hotch’s cabin.
“I just hope he doesn’t make me call him ‘sir’,” Piper sighed, putting her face in her hands. “He’s gonna be insufferable after this.” Her head bobbed up as Morgan yelled for them to get Rossi.
“This is Megan Chertow and her friend Beena Sukarto, both 17, found 2 nights ago in a parking garage, carotids severed. This is John O'Heron, 61,” JJ briefed. “He was found dead in a wooded area 4 days ago, blunt force trauma to the head.”
“Different MO and completely different victimology,” Rossi remarked. “How are the cases linked?”
“Their eyes have been removed,” JJ tried to say casually, her mouth drawing into a line as she took her seat.
“Oh, he's an enucleator,” Spencer beamed.
“You are way too excited about this,” Piper murmured to her boyfriend.
“Wait, there’s a term for this?” JJ asked, clearly disgusted now.
“It's a rare subset of criminal behaviour, but there have been case studies of assaultive enucleators,” Hotch explained.
“The overwhelming majority of them suffer from diagnosed mental disorders,” Emily elaborated.
“And they're usually males, lack social skills, their kills are disorganized and sloppy,” Spencer added. “The typical enucleator gouges the eyes out, but he doesn't normally take them with him.”
“We need to figure out why,” Derek said, looking to Piper. “You got anything on eyes?”
“Well, typically eyes have been seen as the windows to the soul,” Piper recalled, gesturing with her pen. “In TS Eliot’s The Hollow Men, he says they have no eyes, but he really means the soul. The earliest reference to enucleation would probably be Oedipus who gouges out his own eyes because um… he sleeps with his mother and it’s a whole thing. I think in Dante’s Inferno he talks about judgement using ocular imagery as well.”
“The point?”
“Well, three points, really. One is soul, the other is guilt and the last is judgement.” Piper nodded emphatically.
“You think this guy feels guilty?”
“I’d say in this case it’s more that he feels judged. These enucleators are generally paranoid and that could have been the trigger.”
“There are noticeable shifts from the first to second murder,” Rossi pointed out. “He goes from killing in seclusion to a public place.”
“And he escalated from one victim to two,” Emily added.
“What concerns me most is there's less than 48 hours between the murders,” Derek explained. “That's why I chose this case.”
“And from what we know about enucleators,” Hotch added. “They're almost always multiple repeat offenders.”
“Exactly. Which means he's going to need to kill again soon. All right. Let's meet on the plane in 30.” Piper watched the others leave before making sure Spencer got up okay.
“Is it always gonna be this awkward?”
“God, I hope not. Derek hasn’t bullied me once all day. I never thought I would miss it.” Piper pouted as she helped Spencer down the stairs. “Are you sure you wanna come along?”
“Yeah, I’m not staying cooped up with Garcia all day.”
“Hey, I didn’t want you there either,” Penelope retorted from Emily’s desk. “Also, cookies,” she thrust out a box for Spencer. “I felt bad for not giving you any the other day. But do not expect more.” Piper laughed as she grabbed her and Spencer’s go-bags.
“You know, the last thing we need is Morgan turning into Hotch,” Emily grinned. “Another grim-faced robot. I don’t think I could handle it.” Piper laughed and the three agents got into the elevator.
On the jet, Spencer spread his leg out carefully along the width of the plane while Piper perched on the table next to him. “The colours of all the victims' eyes are different,” Emily pointed out. “So, that probably doesn't factor into victimology.”
“It's more likely what he sees in the eyes,” Spencer explained. “Case studies show that most enucleators suffer from delusions. They hear voices and see things in people's eyes.”
“Usually something evil. They're driven to enucleate to destroy the devil. It points to someone who may have been institutionalized and recently released. I can help Garcia start looking,” Piper offered.
“All right, so talk to me,” Derek directed. “What makes these attacks so different?”
“With victim one, there were multiple blunt force strikes to the head— A more personal kill,” Rossi answered.
“And he disposed of the body, maybe as a forensic countermeasure,” Hotch added.
“The next murders seemed less personal, more opportunistic,” Emily finished.
“I think we need to look at why the first victim was bludgeoned and dumped.” Derek sighed deeply.
“Perhaps the unsub knew him,” Spencer theorised. “It’s possible he said or did something.”
“Prentiss, I want you to go to the disposal site, see if you can figure out why he was dumped there. Rossi, you and I are gonna go to last night's crime scene—”
“Actually, uh, the girls' families asked to speak to our team leader,” JJ interrupted.
“All right. um... Okay, in that case, Rossi, you can handle the crime scene solo. JJ, you're with me, and, Hotch, Reid, I want you to get into John O'Heron's life, See if anything at all points to a personal motive. Piper, help Garcia narrow down mental institution records.” They nodded and Spencer moved over to the couch to spread his leg out and Piper went to make a cup of coffee. “Hey, Bishop.” She looked over at him, a little tense.
“Coffee?”
“No, I’m good. Um… listen, about you and Reid.” Piper looked up. “I know Hotch may not have had a problem with it, but uhh…” Derek was unsure about how to phrase his next directives. The last thing he wanted to do was break them up, but he couldn’t risk the team dynamic becoming tattered.
“Derek, what are you saying?” Piper swirled a spoon of sugar into her cup.
“I’m just worried that if the two of you have a… an issue within your personal relationships…”
“Der, you’re like a brother to me, you know that. If we have an issue, we’ll sort it out.” Derek nodded, breathing in deeply. “Is everything okay?” Piper placed a hand on his shoulder gently, but he pushed her away. She sighed as he moved to resume his seat and she followed, worried about Derek’s new responsibilities.
^-^
Spencer, Piper and Hotch filed into the precinct and Hotch shook hands with Detective Bartley. Piper smiled and took a seat opposite Spencer before she turned her laptop on to find Garcia. “So, I started to look up recently released mental health patients who have a history of eye gouging, eye assault, and other gross things you can do to eyes and sockets. And there's no bingo for Okie City residents.” Garcia tapped her pen against her forehead.
“Well, I suppose that’s sort of a good thing. I can’t believe he started out with eyes though. Try a history of animal cruelty.”
“Gold star to you doctor. I’ve got 7.”
“Narrow them down to eyes.”
“Oh. They’re all gone, sweet-cheeks. Sorry,” Penelope pouted.
“That’s okay,” Piper said, rubbing her hands. “We’ll get back to you soon.”
“10-4 breaker! breaker!” Piper narrowed her eyebrows as Garcia blipped away, looking up at Spencer as she mouthed Garcia’s last words.
“What’d you get?”
���Nothing yet. What about you guys?”
“Both murders were 22 miles apart which is unusual since serial killers usually have a smaller kill zone,” Spencer replied.
“What I don’t get is what he’s doing with them. What do you do with eyes?”
“May be keeping them as trophies,” Hotch suggested from his position near the murder board.
“They wouldn't keep long as trophies,” Spencer gestured with his hands. “Eyes are 80% vitreous humor, which is essentially water. After a few hours, they begin to get cloudy and wilt.”
“Any other theories?”
“There have been cases where after enucleation, mental patients have consumed the eyeballs.” Piper almost retched. “Sorry.” She waved him off.
“Nope, it’s fine. I just really hope he isn’t; you know. But if these eyeballs don’t last long, won’t he try and replace them?”
“He will. Unless he knows how to preserve them,” Spencer said. Piper frowned as Spencer gazed mournfully at the victims. Hotch tossed Piper a marker and she got up, the notion of eye consumption far from her mind.
“So, O'Heron's friends say he has a history of drunken behaviour,” Hotch surmised from his file. “But they don't know anybody with a grudge against him.”
“He was last seen leaving a bar,” Spencer read out. “Bartender on duty said he left without incident.”
“We should get Garcia to look at his financial records,” she suggested. “It’s possible he did something earlier in the day where he met our unsub.” She looked over as Emily and Rossi entered the room. Emily told them about the remote farm road where O'Heron was dumped, telling them that the unsub didn't just stumble on it, he knew the area well. Hotch told her to make a list of people who live or work near the area before turning to Rossi. Piper and Spencer listened to the senior agent’s theory of their unsub’s patience and organisation. What worried them most of all was his lack of cooling-off period between kills. Meanwhile, Derek and JJ entered looking troubled before directing Spencer and Piper to see the medical examiner. Piper nodded, sighing at having to drive an SUV as she caught the keys Emily threw her.
“Hey, does this mean I can borr—”
“Absolutely not.”
Spencer sat perched on a medical table adjacent to the victim as Piper stood in front of O’Heron. The M.E. pointed out the way the eyes had been ripped out with the optic nerves protruding, but Spencer knotted his eyebrows at the precise cuts made with the other two female victims. They returned to the SUV, Piper watching carefully as Spencer got in. They talked about the case for a while and eventually fell into a comfortable silence at the traffic lights. They’d been dating for a few weeks, but she still couldn’t believe it, especially when he started rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. She smiled and the light turned green and the moment was over. Piper started chewing on her lip as she started driving again. She was lucky to have him.
Spencer knew how nervous Piper got around cars. It wasn’t as though she wasn’t a great driver, but she was a free, interminable spirit, unrestrained by anything but her own will. So, cars weren’t a good fit. A few weeks ago, he’d have been afraid to ask her to go out for coffee, but now, he could ask her to do anything. She was happy to do anything, as long as it involved him. But with his leg in his current state, they were having trouble finding dates. She never minded though, always up for anything. They’d watched her entire French film collection, gone on midnight strolls, even just gone on bookstore dates. They’d compete to find the worst scenes in the romance novels. Each time they make the other laugh, they get a point, the loser having to buy dinner. She’d ended up buying dinner after the carousel scene in The Notebook. He was lucky to have her.
Slowly, Piper pulled up to the precinct, sighing in relief as she parked, and her body leant against the still car before pulling out the keys and clambering out. While Spencer tried getting out slowly, Piper rushed over with his crutches. They made their way inside, updating the team on their findings. “He managed to avoid cutting the sockets or the eyelids. This was precise work. The kind of work only a doctor could do,” Spencer summed up.
“He was crude with the first victim, surgical with the others. The amount of effort he's going through to remove the eyes now, he wouldn't destroy them. He's keeping them,” Piper nodded. “But there’s one good news in all of this, if you can call it that,” Piper scoffed.
“What’s that?” Hotch looked up from his file at Emily’s question.
“At least he isn’t eating them.” Emily snorted quietly and Derek told them all to get some sleep.
Spencer was still looking over the file in Piper’s room as she took off her jacket. “You know, Derek told us to get some sleep,” she said, sliding into bed with her copy of Wuthering Heights.
“I don’t mind getting a dog,” he murmured, “but who’d look after it?” Piper knotted her eyebrows as he compared the two pictures of bodies.
“What kind of dog?”
“I guess so,” Spencer muttered as she rummaged through papers. “But I prefer Richard the Third’s monologue. More…sinister.” Piper sighed, putting the book away. She got up, moving over to him seated at the table. Piper slid her arms around his neck, nuzzling his ear. She huffed at his complete ignorance of her. She brushed her lips against his ear, trailing kisses along his jawline. “Pipes…”
“Bed,” she whispered between kisses. He turned his head up to her, meeting her lips fully. His hand travelled to cup her face as his lips moved against her. Strands of hair tangled between his knuckles as she leaned in deeper. They broke away for air and Piper grinned. “You gonna stop working now?”
“Well, I’m not sure I can focus on missing eyes after that.” Piper beamed before announcing she was going to take a shower so he could change, emphasising the need to sleep. He sighed as he watched her disappear inside the bathroom, trudging over to the bed. A gentle smile played on Piper’s lips as she came back out of the bathroom at the sight of Spencer softly snoring in bed. Piper flicked the lights off as she climbed into bed next to him.
He woke to sunlight streaming from the window, noticing a small weight on his torso. He glanced to the angel snoring softly beside him, an arm gently lain on his chest. Spencer kissed her cheek softly before getting up to pull on his brace. Piper got up slowly a few minutes after, rubbing her eyes at the blinds Spencer pulled apart. Blinking blearily, she trudged over to the bathroom, brushing her teeth while changing at the same time. She left the door open while she walked out, beaming as Spencer managed to limp over without his crutches. “You’re getting better.”
“Yeah, my PT’s gonna love me after this case.”
“How could he not?” Piper kissed him on the cheek, then moved over to pack the files into a box while Spencer went to get ready when Emily burst into her room.
“There’s another murder.”
^-^
The team gathered around the precinct, discussing the latest murder. Tracy Copper died the furthest away from the other crime scenes. She was 32 and an avid jogger, according to her husband. The woman had died from a single knife wound to the neck; a cold and efficient kill. She watched Derek, Emily and Hotch leave for the crime scene and JJ pulled up Garcia on the monitor. “So, Garcia, we have the list of local doctors, but we need to narrow it down.”
“Where shall I splice, my pretties?”
“Give me a list of all doctors who've had infractions like malpractice suits,” Spencer asked from his seat next to Piper.
“Got it. Bouncing your way.”
“Narrow it down to eye specialists,” Piper called out.
“Whoo, that's still a lot of names.”
“We'll chip away when we know more,” he explained.
“Hey, wait. Before you hang up, how's my Morgan doing?”
“Fine,” he shrugged.
“I know the man is fine. How's he holding up as head honcho?”
“Well, he's stressed, but he's on top of it,” JJ answered. “Speaking of which, there is something you could do for him.” Piper grinned ear to ear as JJ detailed her plan for Derek when they got back, but her cell buzzed and she sliced her hand along her throat, showing her Derek’s caller ID.
“Hey Der. What you got?”
“He laid a trap for her. All this, plus the way he bleeds her at the neck. It's the behaviour of a game hunter.”
“Jesus,” Piper sighed, rubbing a hand along her face while Spencer squeezed her shoulder.
“Hunting's a big part of this city's culture,” JJ pointed out.
“Yeah, hunting animals is,” Piper breathed. “What triggered him to start hunting humans?”
“This guy is taking people's eyes, so, he's definitely disturbed. What bugs me is that people like this usually unravel, get sloppy. And this guy's only getting better.”
“Okay. Let us know if there’s anything else.”
“Wait, Morgan!” JJ called out before Piper could end the call. “I'm fielding calls left and right here.”
“What's happening?”
“The case made national news. They're starting to call him the Eye Snatcher.”
“All right, um, you're gonna hold a small, controlled press conference. Answer their questions but try to squash that name. I want the people to be aware, but I do not want to make a bogeyman out of this guy. Anything else?”
“You're not answering Strauss' calls.”
“She's just trying to keep tabs. She can wait.” JJ’s face seemed crushed when Piper hung up the call.
Back in the woods, Aaron watched Derek hang up and return to the crime scene, ready to get back. “Maybe you should take the time to field the call,” Hotch advised softly. Strauss wasn’t an enemy any first-time unit chief should have. Erin had her own battles and tended to take it out on the unit chiefs below her. Yes, Derek was performing admirably, but even the slightest mistake leads to mountains of inspection from the higher-ups. Morgan didn’t know how to deal with that yet. That being said, Derek’s answer was every bit as expected, polished and professional.
“Hotch, we have to set up a tip line. We have to go over JJ’s talking points. We haven't gotten the profile out yet. All of that takes priority over dealing with Strauss.”
“I understand all that.” Hotch kept his voice smooth and placating as they walked through the greenery. “Let us help you set up strategy while you talk to her. We'll regroup with you before we proceed. We have enough battles. Believe me, you don't want to fight her, too.”
“Let me get this profile out, and then I'll go talk to Strauss.” Aaron almost scoffed as Morgan walked off. Bargaining. Derek reminded him of himself when he’d started out with this unit. He couldn’t have asked for a better team with Morgan and Reid. But the team had gotten bigger now. They had Rossi, an expert negotiator, Prentiss, a master in linguistics and terrorism, Jareau, an icon with the media and a sweetheart with the families and Bishop, specialised in trauma and children and Garcia, resident hacker. With that came a responsibility. Their little family of 8 were specialists, easily relocated if the Director wished. He’d carried that responsibility of putting them to good use and he wondered whether he regretted giving it to Morgan. We’ll see, Hotch decided before following.
^-^
Piper was sat cross-legged on a desk while Derek stood where Hotch usually did, delivering the profile, having the others step in when it came down to it. “We’re looking for a white male, 27 to 35. He is driving a van or a pickup truck with a removable cab. Something utilitarian that can get bloody and wash out easily. We believe that our unsub may have known his first victim,” Derek nodded to Piper. “Yet the rest were random.”
“Most enucleators have a mental disorder and are frenzied and sloppy when they attack,” Piper explained. “This one has more control since he lays in wait to kill his victims, he knows how to cut them so that they bleed out. This indicates he might have a hunting background.”
“That makes us believe he may also have applied for hunting licenses,” Hotch continued. “He has some sort of medical or surgical training but fell short of making a career out of it.”
“He is killing in different areas of the city in public places,” Spencer continued, limping over to the large map. “His large kill zone could be related to some type of travel pattern in his life, which indicates a comfort with these neighbourhoods.”
“The escalation might be caused by a self-imposed timeline,” Rossi added. “He has to murder so many people, take these many eyes, to accomplish a task. He's acting on a delusion that's fuelling this murder spree.”
“A man named Herbert Mullin had a fear of a catastrophic earthquake hitting California,” Emily recounted. “Now, he believed that by killing people and offering their blood as a sacrifice to the earth, he could prevent an earthquake. He was a paranoid schizophrenic, and his delusion led him to kill 13 people.”
“He may have been in a halfway house or have been granted leave from a treatment facility,” Piper continued. “Maybe his family moved him away and now he's back.”
“Our unsub kills at night, employs hunting tactics, and is patient,” Derek concluded. “He will wait until he can be alone with his victims.” While the detective dismissed the officers on duty to their roles, Derek moved to his office to answer Strauss’s call.
Piper waited in the cold night air for JJ to finish up her conference when she saw Spencer slowly walk over to her. “Emily’s grabbing her stuff, told me to wait outside.” Piper narrowed her eyes at the multitude of officers flooding out of the precinct.
“That’s probably why.” Piper chuckled. Spencer noticed the cheerful glint in her eyes. “How’s your leg?”
“It doesn’t hurt anymore. I just want to walk properly again.” Piper smiled sadly at him.
“I’m sorry.” Piper leaned carefully on her bike, looking mournfully at his crutches.
“For what?” He looked at her weary eyes.
“For not figuring it out sooner,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You know, I keep reliving it and uh… I keep kicking myself for being that dumb.” Her voice was soft, out of earshot from anyone except Spencer.
“Pipes, you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m gonna be back to normal in no time, you’ll see.”  Piper managed a small smile, breathing in deeply as JJ approached.
“Hey, you ready to go?” Piper nodded, hooking her leg around her bike before strapping on her helmet. JJ jumped on, giving Spencer a small wave before they speeded off.
The next morning, Piper yawned as she accepted the coffee Emily held out. “‘Nother victim?” Piper blinked sleepily.
“What time did you wake up?”
“Like 20 minutes ago.” Piper yawned again before sipping her brown brain juice. “So, he killed two this time?”
“Yeah, Morgan and I are gonna go check it out.”
“We're looking for a doctor who is also a hunter and a former mental patient who happens to be cutting people's eyes out. How the hell are we gonna find him?” Piper voiced irritably as Rossi strolled up next to her.
“Trust the profile. It’ll make sense.” Piper nodded, then moved over to a seat to peruse the files. By the time the others had come back, Derek had made a major break with the case. Wes's left eye was damaged during a struggle, so it was left behind while both of Sandy's eyes were taken, prompting Derek to suggest they weren’t dealing with a doctor at all; it was a taxidermist. Spencer nodded thoughtfully, explaining that a taxidermist has all the skills and supplies needed to preserve eyes and other body parts. That was when JJ marched in and placed her phone on the middle of the desk, putting Garcia on speaker. She explained that O’Heron had written a $250 check to Lloyd’s Wild Game Shop, the establishment whose owner had died of emphysema 4 weeks ago, leaving behind a 28-year-old son, Earl Bulford, with a petty crime record and 3 counts of animal cruelty. There wasn’t any record of mental illness, she emphasised, but his mom suffered from retinitis pigmentosa, a degenerative eye disease which eventually leads to blindness and died in a car crash when Bulford was 8.
Derek directed the team to move into position, with Piper and Emily taking the bike, Hotch and Rossi in one SUV and Derek and the detective in another. The three pairs converged on the same path and Piper took the front entrance with Derek and Emily. She winced from second-hand pain as Emily shoved an elbow in after Derek noticed a small pool of blood through the main window. Hotch and Rossi moved in from the back and slowly both units merged into the middle of the shop, clearing the establishment. Hotch found Bulford’s customer accounts and the detective pointed out how each customer lived in the same area as each victim they found. They divided again based on the last two victims, with Derek, Piper and Emily taking one address near Bleaker St while Hotch, Rossi and the detective took the other.  
Emily just gave Piper a disappointed look as she stepped down from the porch. Meanwhile, Hotch had found success, sort of, as the woman confusedly assented to having seen the unsub, but she wasn’t to know that. They split, calling all units to their area. The detective confirmed soon enough that they found the vehicle but not him. Hotch and Rossi decided to take the block by foot while the detective circled around in in his car. While Rossi took the east side of the block, Hotch took the west and heard screams. He yelled for Rossi, but his colleague was too far away to hear. Cursing himself, he sprinted towards the scream, shooting at the sight of Bulford leaning over the girl, a metal contraption pulling her eyelids apart. Spooked, the man sprinted down the alley and Hotch leaped over the young woman to run after Earl, pulling him down from where he was about to climb up the wall. Hotch swiftly pinned the murderer to the floor before handcuffing him. Secured, Hotch moved over to Jaime, slowly and carefully pulling out the metal contraption safely. Relieved significantly, Hotch walked out of the alley to see a beaming Piper on her bike, helmet in hand. “I see you got him.” Aaron smiled back despite himself. “I don’t remember the last time you cuffed a guy.” Her smile dropped as Derek and Emily approached.
“Detective said you ran after him solo,” Derek said, no visible trace of pride, humour or joy on his face. Not even a smirk. Emily shrugged imperceptibly to Piper.
“He wasn't far behind me,” Hotch justified.
“You know you should have waited for backup.”
“Would you have?” Aaron maintained eye contact until Derek walked away and the ladies smirked. “What?” Hotch looked between them.
“Nothing,” they cried in unison at their former boss, laughing once he was out of earshot at the irony of it all. Piper motioned for Emily to sit on the bike behind her before speeding down the sparse road to the precinct. They peeled out of their vests and headed back to the hotel to pack their things before Derek appeared, holding Bulford in tow. He dumped him next to an officer and moved over to JJ, asking if they could leave in about an hour.
Back at Quantico, the rest of the team hadn’t bothered going back into the building, opting to go straight home, except for Derek and Aaron. As Morgan finished the last of his paperwork before his second case tomorrow, Penelope strolled over to him. “You are here late,” she announced, a question embedded in the prompt.
“Reports. Hotch always stayed later than the rest of us, and now I understand why.” He glanced at the senior agent still in his cabin, working on who knows what.
“He doesn't have to write them anymore. Why is he still here?”
“I don't know. But I do know I need to get some rest. I got another case starting tomorrow.” Derek stood from his desk, packing his reports away into his briefcase.
“Um, I--before you go, can you help me get something out of storage?”
“Yes, baby girl.” His voice was sweet and smooth like caramel. “Anything for you.”
“Thank you.” Penelope beamed before taking him down the railed hallway past Rossi and Hotch’s cabins. She opened the door, letting him in before switching the lights on. “Voila!” Derek looked around at the vacated office.
“What are we doing in Hall’s office?”
“Um, it's kind of not Hall's office anymore,” Penelope grinned. “It's your office.”
“What?” Derek looked at his best friend incredulously, a smile playing on his lips.
“JJ made some calls. Agent Hall's retiring in a month, but he's finishing his caseload at home. So, while you all were away, Mama set to work clearing out the rest of his boxes and setting up an uber office fit for our acting unit chief.” She swayed slightly on the spot, waiting for his reaction. His grin mirrored her own.
“Garcia, this is for real?”
“It's kind of blah for my taste, but I figured you needed to keep up with agency standards. But…” She trailed off, moving over to the desk to open a secret drawer at the bottom. “I did make you your very own secret fun zone.” She playfully placed a light up robot-dog on the desk, beaming giddily at Derek before passing him a framed photograph of the entire team for him. He remembered the moment captured on film. It was his 30th birthday from a few months ago. He smiled as he gazed at his little family, Garcia planting a kiss on his cheek while he cut the cake while Spencer cheered. He rubbed his shoulder, remembering the dull pain of 25 punches and Piper’s sour expression when she was too tired to do the last 5. He smiled, remembering how Rossi had treated them all to drinks afterwards and how JJ kept pulling out Cheetos from absolutely nowhere. He pulled Garcia close, kissing the top of her head.
“Woman, you have lost your mind. But you are the best.”
“I completely agree. I will leave you alone to mark your territory.”
“Hey.” He stopped her before she walked out. “Thank you.” As she left, Derek sunk into his plush chair, relaxing and he gazed at his desk before pulling out his cell. He dialled a familiar number. “Listen, uh... Does that offer for a drink still stand?”
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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years
Text
Olly Olly Oxenfree (part six)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
TW: Death
———————
as quiet as an empty church
“Well, the station’s at the top of the hill.” Cathy said. With a sigh, she adds, “I hope this works.”
“Me too.” Joan said.
They were back in the woods, back to pushing through brambles and branches to get to the area with the cable car. Their goal was the upper cabin they didn’t go to before, and they began hiking up to i-
- .... . / .... --- ..- ... . / .. ... / .- .-.. .. ...- . / .- -. -.. / - .... . / .... --- ..- ... . / .. ... / .... ..- -. --. .-. -.--
“Well, the station’s at the top of the hill.” Cathy said. With a sigh, she adds, “I hope this works.”
Joan felt like she wanted to cry or pull out her hair and scream- maybe both.
“It’s the thing again.” She mumbled sluggishly.
Cathy groaned. “We’re due, I guess. It’s been, like, a minute since the last one.”
They try to trek up to the hill to the Catbird Station again, but are sent right back to the bottom of the maintenance cabin.
.... ..- -- .- -. ... / -.-. .- -. / .-.. .. -.-. -.- --..-- / - --- ---
“Well, the station’s at the top of the hill.” Cathy said. With a sigh, she adds, “I hope this works.”
“Yep.” Joan agreed.
She tries again.
Cathy doesn’t say anything.
So she tries again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
But the tenth try, Joan’s head was splitting open and she was frustrated to the point where she was near tears. She backed up, ready to maybe charge up the path and hope she couldn’t be looped if she moved quick enough, but then she noticed something under the bridge.
Lightning cracks and lit up the horribly bloody and disfigured shape of Anne’s body impaled on the rocks.
She’s strung by the stomach, gouging it wide open and letting her long, gooey intestines hang out. Her skull, which must have hit against one of the rocks, is split and her brains are revealed to the cool night air. Blood is practically soaking the entirety of the stone her corpse is stuck on, turning the river water below a sickly shade of red.
Kitty is on the other side of the bank, sitting on the shore with her head buried in her knees. She couldn’t bear to see the sight of her dead cousin.
Joan can’t breathe. She can’t even muster up the will to cry; she’s too mortified. Shock sets in fast.
“Kitty,” Cathy said as they both slowly approached the scene. The smell of blood and entrails was thick in the air. “What happened? What happened to Anne?”
Kitty snapped her head up. There are tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Anne’s— she’s— she had an accident, she— she died. I couldn’t—”
“Oh my god.” Joan whispered. Her knees wobble, then buckle; she’s on the ground.
“What happened?” Cathy asked.
“She—”
Joan’s vision bugs out. Anne’s bloated, waterlogged corpse is in front of her, skin grey, eyes clouded, mouth open in a frozen horrified expression and leaking water.
“She drowned.”
Joan’s vision bugs out.
“She—”
Anne is standing at the top of the guard rail on the bridge. She spreads her arms and falls backwards. The blood splatter splashed out onto Joan.
“She fell.”
Joan’s vision bugs out.
“She—”
Anne is nowhere to be seen.
“I don’t know... She just...stopped.”
Joan’s vision bugs out.
And then it twists and shifts and everything bleeds together. Starbursts and fireworks explode beneath her eyelids and her brain rattled viciously inside of her skull to the point where she thinks it may just fly right out. When she pries her heavy eyes open again, she’s standing in the maintenance shack in the dark. A storm is raging outside. The only light comes from the claps of lightning and Cathy’s red glowing eyes.
“I mean, does it really matter what happened?” She asked. “Either way, done is done.”
“I know you’re not really Cathy.” Joan grits.
“Soon, it won’t be a pretense. It will be an absolute.” Not-Cathy said, and her words ooze from her lips like thousands of spider. “Joan, we know you’re in charge and we know your plan and we also know that your plan won’t work. It never does.” A smile twitches on her horribly pale lips when Joan shivered. “So, we have a proposition for you.”
“Like what?” Joan pressed.
The door behind Not-Cathy swung open, not affected by the power of the howling winds outside. She turned smoothly and walked right out into the freezing rain. Joan has no choice but to follow, and she gets drenched instantly. The cold bites her right down to the bone.
“It’s over for Catalina, she’s gone.” Not-Cathy began to say. “We’ll pilot her through the rest of existence, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.” She glances over her shoulder and smirked at the shivering girl below her. “But...if you agree to let us take her, quietly, without a fuss...we won’t slaughter the rest of your friends like you did young Reginald, here.”
They stop at the bridge. Anne’s corpse rots below them.
“We will leave the rest of your cattle alone.”
“No.” Joan’s voice is firm and hard, even with the underlying laces of fear. “No way. I’m saving everyone!”
Not-Cathy laughed. “Courage isn’t always the answer, dear.”
Joan shrunk back. Her drenched, ruined grey jacket chafes uncomfortably against her back.
“You don’t have much time left.” Not-Cathy said. “Do you know how we know you don’t have much time left?”
Joan is quiet, even when she’s egged on with hums to answer.
“We know,” Not-Cathy went on, “Because we can be Cathy for this long... and her soul’s as quiet as an empty church.”
Joan’s vision starts to bug out-
“Jµ§† ñêvêr §å¥. Wê ÐïÐñ’† þrðvïÐê ¥ðµ. Äll. †hê rµlê§.”
-but this time it’s so much worse than all the other times before. It feels as if someone was taking a knife and stabbing it into her ears over and over and over again until brain matter is spilling out. She can barely get her eyes to focus after the looping sequence ends, but she recognizes that she’s back in front of the maintenance cabin, Cathy is gone, and there’s three tape players on the bridge.
Her legs feel like sticks of lead when she moves them to walk.
She winds up two of three tape players when she notices Kitty huddled beneath a lamppost with her head in her knees. Before she goes to the last one, she checks on the younger girl.
“I know she was your best friend, Joan.” Kitty said before Joan could even say something to her. “I— I’m sorry. I don’t— I don’t know what happened... One moment she was just there, and then she was...” The image of Anne’s corpse seemed to flash in her eyes like it did for Joan. “Gone.”
Joan wanted to yell at Kitty. She wanted to scream at her, slap her, spit on her, throw her stupid body off the bridge for payment for not saving Anne, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t needed.
“You were her cousin.” Joan whispered.
Kitty scoffed sadly. “You knew Anne better than I ever have.” Fresh tears stream down her cheeks when she realizes that she’ll never get the chance to know her cousin like that anymore. “I liked what I got to know of her.”
“If she can hear you right now,” Joan said. Her voice is breaking and the tears finally spill free. “She’d be over the moon.”
Kitty sniffled.
Joan moved on.
She winds the last tape player and lets the loop embrace her.
“Well, the station should be at the top of-“ Cathy’s voice halts and she gagged. “Ugh... I feel like I just ate a tree...”
Joan is still soaked, even though the rain is gone and nothing is wet anymore. She shivered and uselessly pulled her jacket closer.
“You were possessed.” She said. “It was the longest it’s been before.”
“Yeah, I can...kinda remember that part.” Cathy said. She notices her sister shivering, so she takes off her beanie and puts it on Joan’s head.
“Hello?”
The loudspeaker crackles.
“Hellooo?”
“Oh, they’re broadcasting from the station speaker somehow.” Cathy said as she and Joan made their way up to Catbird. She smiled slightly at both of the cousin’s babbling over the com and Joan’s wonder at getting to wear her beanie.
They get to the top at Kitty and Anne tell them about how they were ready to go at the bunker. Joan clicks on the microphone at the control panel.
“Hello,” She said. “Hello, we are here.”
After a quick joke- which, in hindsight, was pretty inappropriate at the time being, but they all needed it- Joan flicks a switch on the board.
“Signal Verified.” Said a mechanical voice on the panel. “Shelter TF1 Open.”
“Great!” Kitty said.
“Alright, hurry back, you two!” Anne added.
The sisters exit the station and begin walking out of the woods when-
“I have an idea, Mr. Jordan. Can we make him reborn?”
Joan whipped around.
Cathy’s eyes are solid red.
“Cathy!!” Joan cried.
Cathy blinked and her eyes are back to normal.
“Okay okay okay, I’m— god, I really hate that!”
“It’s getting worse, Cathy.” Joan whispered. “I think we’re running out of time.”
Cathy swallowed thickly. She nods slowly.
“Yeah...” She mutters. “Hey, I— I don’t want to get all sappy on you, but... I just want you to know that it would have been nice living with you and ending high school by your side.” If she’s about to cry, she’s really good at hiding it. “I’m just...glad I met you that’s all.”
Joan bites her quivering bottom lip. She doesn’t want to cry, not again, but her sister is making that near impossible.
“I’m just glad we met.”
Joan reaches down and takes Cathy’s hand as they walked to the shelter together.
“Me too.”
Cathy smiled at her softly.
They continue the rest of the walk in silence, hand-in-hand.
They meet up at the cousins in front of the bunker. There was no time for them to spare, so they cut right to the chase.
“The bunker won’t open back up once we’re in.” Cathy said. “Anne, Kitty, don’t wait for us. Find someplace safe to stay...or hide. Main Street might be a good idea.”
“Yeah,” Joan nodded. “If the ferry comes, get on it. Leave. Don’t wait for us.”
Anne and Kitty just nodded quietly.
“Ready to go?” Cathy asked her sister.
“Yeah. Just-”
Joan walked up to Anne and hugged her tightly. Anne hugged her back and she can feel her friend’s tears splatter on her shoulder.
“We’ll be back, Annie.” Joan whispered. “I promise.”
Anne sniffled and wiped her eyes. She squeezed Joan’s forearm with one hand tightly.
“You better.”
Joan goes to Kitty next and hugs her, too. The younger girl clearly wasn’t expecting it, but she accepts the embrace.
“Go bust some ghost heads.” She tells her softly.
Joan manages a laugh. “Will do.”
Then, she hugs Cathy before they both go to the bomb shelter door. They turn to Anne and Kitty and the true peril of the situation only really sets in when the cousins spring forward and pull all four of them into a big group hug.
“We love you guys.” Anne choked out through a sob. “Come back. Please come back.”
“We love you, too.” Joan whispered.
“This isn’t goodbye.” Cathy added.
And then the heavy bomb shelter door shuts and they’re engulfed by darkness.
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chuffyfan87 · 4 years
Text
Growing Pains. Part 10a
Cowritten with @disastrousintention. Content warning for illegal drug use.
-x-
Louis didn’t want to go to rehab! He’d fought and resisted the idea for so long but to no avail, he was going whether he liked it or not. The whole idea was stupid, he didn't have a problem. He wasn't an addict. He could stop if he wanted to! “I don’t want to go!!” He yelled in the car.
Charlie hadn't spoken during the entire journey. Duffy knew this was tearing him apart inside.
"This will help make things better." Duffy replied softly.
“I don’t need to be better!”
"You nearly died Louis." She sighed.
“So?”
"Me and your dad love you and want to help you."
"Really? Dad just does what you tell him to." Louis sulked.
“Louis, please.” Charlie sighed.
"It'd be easier for you if I was dead anyway."
“Louis! That’s enough. You’re my son! Why would I want you dead?”
"Then you could live your perfect little life with her!"
“That’s not true!”
Louis didn't reply as they arrived at the adolescent rehab facility and entered the building.
The lady behind the desk greeted them. "Are you dad and mum?" She asked.
“He’s my dad, she’s just the whore who broke up my family.” Louis mumbled.
Duffy sighed. "Do you want me to just wait in the car?" She asked Charlie.
“No. We’ll do this together.” Charlie replied as he entwined his hand with Duffy’s.
"He always takes her side. Probably afraid she won't suck his cock if he doesn't."
“Louis! Enough!” Charlie sighed, “I’m sorry about Louis.”
"Its ok. Would you like to follow me?"
They followed the lady as she led them through to a small room containing a single bed, desk and chest of drawers. This would be where Louis would be sleeping for the duration of his stay at the facility.
Louis flopped down on the bed but didn’t say anything.
Charlie placed the small bag they'd packed for Louis on top of the chest of drawers. They'd been sent a list of the things he'd need plus things that were prohibited.
Louis curled up in a ball and continued to stare at the wall.
Charlie sighed, “I know this is the best place for him.”
"We have a very high success rate in these types of cases."
“He’s got a lot of anger. A lot of things on his mind.”
"We include individual and group therapy sessions as a standard part of our treatment regime."
“I don’t need therapy!” Louis mumbled from the bed.
"It will give you an opportunity to discuss anything that is on your mind in an open and non-judgemental environment."
“There’s fuck all on my mind!” Louis replied back. “You don’t know shit!”
"Maybe we should leave him to get settled in?" Duffy suggested softly.
“I think that’s a good idea.” Charlie sighed, “Bye Louis. Love you.”
Louis merely grunted in return, not even turning around.
Charlie and Duffy left Louis to settle into his new room.
"We're doing the right thing." Duffy attempted to reassure Charlie as they drove away.
“I know we are.”
After giving Louis some time to settle into his new room a male staff member entered. "Hello Louis, I'm Antony, I'll be your case worker whilst you're with us." He explained.
“Kay.”
Antony sat down in the chair at the desk. "Do you know why you're here?"
“Cos everyone thinks I’m an addict!”
"Do you believe that?"
“That I’m an addict?”
"Yes, do you believe that you're an addict?"
Louis shrugged, “Does it matter what I am?”
"It matters to me." Antony replied. "The first step to getting better is acknowledging what the problem is in the first place."
“I don’t have a fucking problem!!” Louis shot back and then sighed heavily. “I...”
Antony remained silent, allowing Louis to continue.
“Don’t have a problem!”
"OK. So if you weren't here right now what would you normally be doing?"
“Being with my mates.”
"What would you be doing with them?"
“Stuff.”
"Do they take drugs too?"
Louis nodded.
"Do you only take them when you're with your friends or when you're alone too?"
“Depends.”
"On what?"
Louis shrugged, “On things.”
"What things?" Antony encouraged gently.
Louis shrugged, “Feelings and that.”
"Do you do more drugs when you're feeling upset or angry?"
Louis nodded.
"As a means of escape?"
Louis nodded again.
"What are you trying to escape from?"
“I don’t want to talk anymore."
"OK. Would you like something to eat?"
“I’m not hungry.”
"OK. You're welcome to go sit in the social room if you'd like?"
“I’m fine here.”
"OK. I'll leave you alone for a bit." Antony replied before standing and leaving the room.
Louis sighed. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
A while later a boy and girl of about Louis' age appeared in the doorway.
"Oi new boy, what you been thrown in here for?" The girl asked.
“Drugs. Everyone thinks I’m an addict, you?”
"We're all in here for that you twat! What drugs?" The lad asked.
"Oi, leave off him!" The girl fired back.
“Who are you calling a twat!” Louis got up and moved towards the lad, “What drugs are you in here for, ya pussy!”
The lad pushed Louis. "Think you're a hard man do ya?"
Louis shoved him back, “Fucking dickhead!”
Very quickly punches were being thrown by both lads.
They had to be separated by Anthony and another lad. Louis’ lip was bleeding.
Both lads were sent back to their rooms. Later that afternoon the girl appeared back at Louis' door.
“Is your friend always that much of a twat?” Louis asked without looking up.
"Yeh, Brad thinks he's top dog round here. I ain't never seen no-one stand up to him the way you did."
“I’m Louis.” He sat up.
"I'm Katy. So why are you here?"
“Heroin and stuff. You?”
"Same." She moved slightly closer and lowered her voice. "You're in luck coz I know how to score what you need."
His eyes lit up, “You do? How?”
"I have contacts. It'll cost you though."
“How much?”
"What you got?"
“No money but I’ve got a good cock.” He put his hand on her thigh.
"Oh is that so?" She smirked. "I'll need to try before I buy..."
“Go ahead.”
She got up from the bed and moved to block the door shut. There were no locks on the inside of any of the doors so she moved the desk instead. She then turned around, her hands on her hips. "Show me what you got then..." She smirked.
“You look like you’ve done this before.”
"Maybe." She shrugged.
He removed his joggers, remaining in his boxers. “Thought so.”
She stepped closer. "That doesn't bother you though?"
He laughed, “All you women are the same.”
"What you mean by that?"
“I’ve changed my mind! Piss off!”
"What the fuck?! What the hell is your problem? You never fucked a girl before or something?"
“I mean it! Fuck off!!” He yelled. He went berserk, trying to flip the various stuff in his room.
"You're totally fucked!" Katy retorted, leaning against the door watching as Louis trashed the room.
“Get out!!”
"Nah, I've always found psychos quite a turn on." She replied, her hands twitching slightly as she held them in front of herself.
“I won’t fucking tell you again! Fuck off!!” He was getting really angry now.
"Fine, you know where to find me when you start getting desperate."
As soon as she was gone, he screamed loudly and began to smack his head against the wall.
The scream alerted the staff who came rushing into his room.
He was still trying to split his head open against the wall.
They had no choice but to place him in restraint.
“Let me go!!” He tried fighting against the restraints.
Eventually they were able to subdue his outburst and decided to place him in lockdown until he was better settled.
Louis lay on his side, staring at the wall. His nails scratching his arm. He needed something to take the edge off.
Things weren't any better the following morning when he was allowed to rejoin the others in the facility. He hadn't slept at all and had managed to gouge deep scratches in his upper arms and chest. “Can I go out for some fresh air?” He asked.
"Only within the garden." Antony told him, unaware of what Louis had done to himself during the night.
“Fine.”
Once out in the garden Louis heard his name being called from over by the wall.
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